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Published: August 3rd 2008
Cowfish.... as rare of a find as Jackalope.
To briefly reflect on the last 48 hours, I must say that it is nice to have a normal bed to sleep in- to say nothing of AC and running water. Yet, as I lay here watching various media drivel on TV, occasionally gagging at all the fawning over Obama, occasionally puzzling over the "going out of business" sales of herds of cattle...I am incessantly leafing through various guidebooks and planning what I will pack for the next leg of the journey.
To celebrate Stef's birthday we went out to sample the local cuisine of Lander. Fortune was with us (me) as the restaurant she selected was within walking distance from our motel. I wish I could say that the walk was pleasant- but the 100 degree temperatures gave me a gripping desire to hurl my physical person into the Popo Agie River as we crossed it en route to dinner. If it was not for an exceptionally high level of refuse therein, coupled with very low water levels I might have followed these impulses with action. Rather we pressed on another half a block further, only to find that our establishment of choice would not open for a solid
half hour. We took shelter in a convenience store nearby whose AC was weak at best and smelled much like a public restroom- a clean one, but still, no one wants to browse beef jerky selections while inhaling the aroma of urinal cakes.
We made our way back out into the 100 degree shade to wait till the restaurant opened. Let me tell you that it was worth the wait. I guess I have found the cultural nexus of Wyoming- ergo, the one establishment I am forced to rave about. If you know me, you know I like to bitch about people/places rather than laud them, and to be sure, Wyoming has given me plenty of fodder. Cowfish is a restaurant worth the visit to Lander if no other reason can justify your being here. To be fair, Lander is pretty righteous with nice-ish folks and a nice park and outstanding recreational opportunities. But lets just say youre a nature-hater or an Obama supporter or belong to some other marginalized group, for arguments sake. Come here to eat at Cowfish. It is the home of the Snake River Brewery (somewhat Guilded Otter-esque for those of you familiar with New
This is how I look
23 years post birth.
Thanks for not caring the birth control failed. I'll try not to be a waste of life.
your favorite free spirited daughter.
*ex post facto* my eyes roll in moderate disgust at this caption but its not my birthday so I am compelled to let it slide...dung...
Paltz, but without the pretentious yuppies and drum circles). Since neither of us drink beer, that part wasn't a big deal but the service was wonderful and the food was outstanding.
I dont like spending money (indeed the conversation preceding dinner was largely me telling Stef how I do not celebrate my survival of a given climb but the successful descent from my route not having lost any gear) and I dont like eating out- probably because I'm diabetic and insulin shots in public places wig me the fuck out, putting it mildly- its a psychosomatic thing, but trust me it sucks- but this place superseded my neuroses to the point that I have to strongly recommend that you drop whatever it is you are doing at this moment and come out here and eat at Cowfish. I was particularly impressed with the fact that their vegetable selection was not some steamed cop-out but rather it was desirable in and of itself- and this is when paired with a 16oz ribeye which normally would (in my eyes) drown out any edible plant matter located nearby. Additionally they grow their own vegetables and I would bet that the beef is
Someone took the slow train from Philly.
I always did like trains. Since I couldn't be an engineer and I'm a hundred years too late to rob one, I guess the impromptu photo-op will have to do.
Incidentally, dessert was good too, from what I saw. Fine, I had a little bit. I ate the fresh mint leaf garnish with some vanilla ice cream, which apparently was incredibly comic- however it was really good. I recommend that too. They even make a good pot of coffee which rivals that made by my own father- which is really saying something.
Walking back from dinner was far more pleasing and we found another railroad car for me to get my picture taken on, just like the good old days. Back at the motel, we are now planning the next phase on our odyssey. Tomorrow, we will get up early, not sure how early but I have every confidence that it will be too early for my liking, and after a hearty breakfast off the McDonalds dollar menu we will head out into the Wind River Mountain Range (hence the title). I anticipate being out till the middle-end of the week. Pictures and tales of great deeds will follow.
Basically we are hiking out to the Deep Lake/Cirque of the Towers area from the Big Sandy trailhead (about 7 miles or so) set up a
Settled by the Scottish. My ancestry is apparent in the profusion of kilt wearing cowboys of the front-range.
basecamp and then periodically we will sally forth and surmount the various peaks in the area. I anticipate thrilling exposure, moderate climbing and digging holes to shit in. Two out of three ain't bad, according to Meat Loaf- who I do not expect to encounter. Til next time...
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