To say that the road to Yellowstone
via Boise is a boring wasteland would be a grotesque understatement. Pascal was getting rather bored in the back seat so we decided
to let the little guy put his hair into the wind a bit, literally.
Just when we thought things were never going to pick up low and behold like a mirage in the desert we rolled upon BYU Idaho. Growing up in Mesa, AZ I had many Mormon friends who put in at least a year or two at this remote University but had absolutely no idea where it existed.
I can now say it exists in the middle of nowhere. Despite the strict rules against fraternization with those of the opposite sex and the fact that it was the Sabbath Day, Pascal somehow managed to weasel his way in with three gorgeous Mormon ladies in front of the BYU Idaho sign and the local Temple. Keith and I were studiously taking notes there in the background.
Pulling into the outskirts of Yellowstone we all blew a sigh of relief to find the Fire Warning Level at 'Low'. Especially Pascal, which makes sense considering he is made out of wood.
A nice reaction shot from Pascal as Old Faithful faithfully blows its load in front of hundreds of onlookers. The other half of the people were looking at Keith and I wondering why we were carrying a giant nutcracker.
Chuck our neighbor in campsite #3 identified himself as a part time tour guide now that he has retired. He took us on a wild goose chase of a hike to Trout Lake via his state of the art GPS tracking system. 5 miles later....the original hike was 1.5 miles each way....27 mosquito bites, 3 open wounds to my shins, and soaking wet shoes later we found ourselves back at base camp.
Come morning we visited the Twin Falls then made an early go at the campsite Pebble Creek. A good thing seeing as how it was completely filled by 1pm, even on a Monday. Right next to our campsite was a big buffalo who is apparently synonymous with the Pebble Creek campsite. No matter how often they shoot him in the ass with rocks he always comes back.
After a few beers and a piss on the adjacent tree from our tent I decided to hit the hay while Keith hung out with Trong a few sites away. Little did I know but piss apparently attracts Buffalo. Not 10 minutes later and Keith popped his head into the tent with a relieved panting disposition. "Dude! Dude! Are you okay? Do you know what JUST happened? A buffalo came over after you went into the tent, sniffed the fire, sniffed your bike and then started sniffing the tent. Moments later a bigger bull came over and challenged him to a duel. Then butted horns literally right next to the tent. I thought you were going to get flattened! Thank god you're okay!"
It wasn't until the next day that we made the urine connection. So what do I do, take another piss...sure enough moments later I hear heavy heavy breathing and snorting outside the tent. Turns out Keith at one point couldn't even make it back to the tent. He had to hide out in the car. For a good hour every time he opened the door the Buffalo would snort and kick up dirt. Let this be a lesson to you all.
Billings, Montana....nearly as hot as Arizona
via Boise is a boring wasteland would be a grotesque understatement. Pascal was getting rather bored in the back seat so we decided 
to let the little guy put his hair into the wind a bit, literally.
I can now say it exists in the middle of nowhere. Despite the strict rules against fraternization with those of the opposite sex and the fact that it was the Sabbath Day, Pascal somehow managed to weasel his way in with three gorgeous Mormon ladies in front of the BYU Idaho sign and the local Temple. Keith and I were studiously taking notes there in the background.
