Day 8 July 13/14 West Yellowstone, Montana 2360 kms

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Five Course Highlights

It was a fast and furious ride from Helena to West Yellowstone, 180 miles all in a southerly direction on route 287. 10 miles out of town, we were served the appetizer, albeit you've got to be kidding me? Yep, a couple of miles of roadworks and gravel. WHATEVER.

Second course on the menu: discovered en route a tidy, quaint little western town called Ennis, also home of the Country Bumpkin Bakery. Ian was in heaven, savouring the best raspberry pie he's ever eaten, and for seconds, the pastry shell and half of the goopy innards of my pecan pie. Dave, they should sell THIS filling in a jar to eat on the couch in your u_____r. Almost as good as cherry.

The sorbet to cleanse the palate, as long as you promise not to tell anyone: Ian rode without a jacket on today. The temp hovered between 25 and 30, with some light wind out of the east. I kept mine on and suffered through it. Rather that than have bugs disintegrating on contact on bare arms.

Main course: riding through Madison Canyon, Montana where a major earthquake and landslide hit in 1959 causing 28 deaths (mostly families camping along the river), the formation of a new lake which they named Earthquake Lake (these guys now work for MOT in BC). We toured the small recently built interpretation centre which offered panoramic views of the damaged area. The lake has become a recreation haven, busy with boaters and water-skiers, fishing boats and lots of men fly fishing in waders, and crowded beach areas for swimming (count me OUT - clearly there are fish in there).

Dessert: Ian was in heaven, savoring the best swiss and mushroom burger he's ever had, at the Buffalo Pub here in town. I had salad. Don't frown now. You're not the one who will be renewing her gym membership as soon as she gets home!

The check please: YOU GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR. You will recall Ian writing in yesterday's blog that nothing comes cheap in West Yellowstone, except for one motel that I had emailed who sent a favourable reply that they had a basic room for $110 per night. Basic is an overstatement. Check out the photos of the Westwood Motel. Old fashioned room key on a fob imprinted with the motel name and room number (great for us if we lose it walking around), two double beds with 3" 20 year old zero quality mattresses whose springs leave round marks on your back, plastic covered pillowcases (I kid you not), blue, pink and yellow floral eiderdowns, see-through 30 thread count sheets, topped with a pilled brown blanket that traps everything I don't want to think about, worn purple carpet. No telephone, no radio-alarm clock, no coffee maker, no hairdryer, no pen and no personalized paper. But hey, George, it was cheap! It should come as no surprise that I won't be pulling the sheets up around my neck tonight, and sorry Ian, but this is going to be a night reminiscent of Steel Steeds where I'm once again keeping all my clothes on and showering in my socks (Pennsylvania, Blog Day #42 last year, link follows: www.Travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/Pennsylvania/Lewisburg/blog-790593.htm)

This tourist trap tiny town is like Niagara Falls: over commercialized, plastic (even the "wooden" benches in the street), expensive, one too many tacky tee shirt shops, fake building facades. Ahhh but all is not lost. There is an outdoor tree top climbing gym without the trees (girls, wanna come down?) and an IMax on the main drag where we spent two hours this afternoon watching Yellowstone Highlights and Bears, both pretty good.

Tomorrow we will venture into Yellowstone Park via the West Entrance and ride the 120 miles Grand Loop in tow with several thousand of our soon to be favourite friends. May we awake in the morning feeling refreshed, patient, and in a willing mood to suffer crowds. Damn, I forgot for a fleeting moment that we are not bedding down in the Yellowstone Lodge.

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