The Second Drive Home
A mini vacation to Big Sky Country
|
I have to admit that the week back at work was mostly spent telling the story of the initial breakdown and the mule deer incident. Shoot, that’s the stuff that made for the best story telling, not that we walked for a while, set up camp and slept.
I’d been in contact with Underriners and the service department manager earlier in the week and the truck was ready to roll. All I needed to do was book a flight back out to Billings Saturday morning and I’d be good to go.
I decided to take the following Monday off so that I could get a day of rest in after the long drive, but I was also harboring thoughts of maybe spending another night in the Beartooths or Bighorns just for fun.
Bright and early Saturday, number one son, Todd, and I left for Green Bay to catch my 6:40 AM flight. Naturally, the aircraft had a computer glitch which delayed the flight a half hour, but we managed to arrive safely in Minneapolis just after 8 AM. I had a brief layover there, spending some of it with Mike and his wife (whose name I can’t recall) from Kentucky. Mike’s family had a cabin in Alpine, of all places, and were heading out to spend the week. Conversation came easy.
|
The flight to Billings was uneventful if not a tad boring since we were flying over the clouds the entire way. My seatmate was a fly fisherman heading out to try his luck in Wyoming and we swapped a few stories for a while which made the time pass a bit faster.
Once in Billings, the cloud cover was starting to lift and I actually saw some sunshine. This was a good thing as I had a fairly long walk down from the rimrocks to downtown Billings. After traipsing through mud from road construction for about a mile a Chevy Blazer pulled a quick U-turn and doubled back my direction. The Kentucky couple with Mike’s mother at the wheel were about to save me from a long walk. I gladly accepted their ride and was within 3 blocks of Underriners in just a few minutes.
I had to spend a few minutes waiting for my paperwork (which never came) but was out of there shortly anyway.
|
My next major dilemma was to find a parking spot in downtown Billings. Hikerjer and I had made plans to meet for lunch shortly after noon at the Montana Brewing Company and there were no parking spots to be found. It seems Billings has a rather large farmers market on Saturday mornings that is very popular among the locals. I was finally able to find a spot semi-close to the Montana Brewing Company after taking a couple of laps around the downtown perimeter.
Still having some time to kill I spent some time perusing the market but was not in the market (ha ha) for fresh veggies at that time. Still, it was an enjoyable way to spend a few minutes amongst the locals
Promptly at noon, a siren blared out to signal closing time, which turned out to be the highlight of the market for me. Within mere minutes tents were taken down and trucks loaded with military precision. It was really quite impressive. By the time Jerry ambled down the street a quarter past noon, most of the vendors had already left or would be shortly and the street opened again for vehicular traffic.
Jerry and I enjoyed a leisurely burger and pale ale at an outside table talking about the Beartooths, kids, kids driving and the development ofdowntown Billings---which I found really quite nice.
Once we settled up and said good bye I trekked back to my truck and plotted a course back to Red Lodge. I was going to experience the Beartooths and sunshine on the same day if it killed me.
|
I knew my plan was in trouble as soon as I got back on the interstate and saw some puffy clouds blowing over the mountains to the south. Apparently the weather patterns had not changed much in the past week. The closer I got to Red Lodge, the thicker the clouds became and a light drizzle was soon to follow.
I stopped to top off my gas tank and grab a few caffeinated beferages just outside of the city limits and cruised on through a surprisingly busy downtown. The temperature was a balmy 53 degrees which was hardly a surprise considering all the great weather we’d had the week before. Sure as shit , I was going to get rained on for sure, and probably sleeted on higher up.
|
At this point I wished I had just headed back to Wisconsin on I-94 right from the start but was going to get something out of it, dammit.
I decided what I’d do was to let my camera run in movie mode over the Beartooth Highway---or until I ran out of memory or battery. Who knows, maybe the storm was a small one and it would be sunny and clear up at the summit?
So up I went, getting some quality footage and semi-coherent commentary along the way. The rain was holding off but for a few sprinkles but the temps were dropping as I pulled off at the Rock Creek Vista. When I decided to take the scenic route back home I was hoping to finally get a nice photo of the Hellroaring Creek drainage. That was not meant to be, again, but I did strike up a nice conversation with four bikers who had never been on the Beartooth Highway. As scenic as the vista was, I told them this was nothing compared to the summit further up the road.
|
Shortly after departing once again the rain started to come down a little but harder, eventually turning to sleet and then a mixture of something resembling snowy hail called “grok”. Through it all I kept the camera rolling despite a somewhat slippery road and limited visibility to either side.
Once I started the descent the precipitation stopped and visibility improved somewhat. Once below the tree line and the clouds the views became even clearer.
Road construction stalled traffic a few times but I passed the time talking with the bikers and a couple of 60-something women while munching on 3 week old GORP. Pondering my next move, I decided to make a detour to Island Lake to determine whether I could actually see High Pass, and then down to the Beartooth Lake campground in hopes of running into Jim and Jen from Minoqua again.
The results were mixed. Yes, I could see High Pass but didn’t see Jim & Jen’s rig in the campground.
Now it was time to start thinking about what I was going to do for the night. It was too early and the weather too iffy to stop for the night. I thought I might be able to make it to the Bighorns and camp there before dark, but it would be close. In the meantime, I was ready for the scenic drive on the Chief Joseph Highway. With any luck the weather would break and I could get some good photos from Dead Indian Pass.
It didn’t take long for my luck to turn bad as the rain started to come down heavier. The rain would continue up to the pass, and thus, no views once again.
The drive down to Cody was uneventful and, after stopping for gas along with the bikers, I was soon speeding across the Bighorn Basin. Again, it appeared that I was going to get rained on if the ominous skies ahead meant anything. I’d decided to take the “middle route” via Shell Falls this time since I hadn’t been up that way since 2003.
I took a few minutes of video driving through Shell Canyon between more raindrops, but the rain never really materialized, belying the dark clouds I’d been watching for an hour. Things slowed down a bit on the east side of the range due to the abundance of the dreaded deer and more road construction. It appeared that parts of highway 14 were being totally rerouted and workers were doing so 24/7 under large banks of portable lighting.
I made it to Buffalo by 10:30 without hitting any deer but needed to stop for gas. While filling up I struck up a conversation with a young guy, maybe 25, who was driving a big ol’ Silverado with massive cow catcher and told him about my new deer phobia and that I wished I had a truck like his.
Young guy: Where ya headed?
Me: Back to Wisconsin
Young guy: Well, if you can keep up with me I’ll get ya to Gillette in one piece
Me: That would be great, but I think I’ll lose you on the on ramp…it’s a piece of shit Hyundai!
Young guy: (Laughing) I’ll let you catch up. Just get right on my ass so if I hit one it doesn’t land on top of ya. I’m Hunter.
Me: OK, thanks Hunter, I’m Dorf.
|
To say I was more than a bit scared on the 70 mile drive to Gillette would be an understatement. Once I caught up young Hunt had us cruising through eastern Wyoming at about 92 mph. Every so often Hunter would flash his directionals. At first I didn’t know what he was doing, but then figured he was telling me where the deer were. Of course, by the time I saw the deer I was passing it.
The white knuckle ride to Gillette took about 45 minutes with approximately 18-20 deer sightings along the way. Once Hunter found his exit he flashed his brake lights, I flashed my brights, and I was forced to navigate the deer gauntlet on my own once more. Not wanting to push my luck I made up my mind to stop at the Moorcroft rest area, about 30 miles down the interstate, for the night despite feeling very much alert and alive. Driving at a snail-like 70 mph, I pulled off the interstate at midnight. The early rest stop meant I would have a very long day of driving tomorrow but I didn’t care as long as I didn’t have to avoid any more deer tonight. A quick calculation revealed that it would probably take me until 10 PM the next night to get home if I could be back on the road by 6 AM.
|
I didn’t wake up until 6:15, but was on the road by 6:30. I was still groggy, eyes full of sleeper seed and bugging as I got back onto the interstate. Looking directly into the rising sun didn’t help matters, but throwing caution to the wind soon had the Santa Fe up to 85 while pounding down the last of my 20 oz. Cokes purchased in Red Lodge the day before.
I was through Rapid City before most folks there had finished reading their morning newspaper and recalculated my ETA back home to 9:30. Exceeding the speed limit had it’s advantages.
Through South Dakota, Minnesota and into Western Wisconsin I flew, arriving in LaCrosse at 5:15. Only four hours from home, I should be pulling into the driveway at 9:15. I would have made it if not for a stupid detour on highway 10 which cost me 20 minutes.
The trip was finally over.
 |
 |
 |
