The northwest corner of Wyoming is home to two of the oldest and most well known National parks around, Yellowstone and Teton. Up and over Granite Pass and down through the winding red canyon of the Big Horn National Wilderness, we arrived at the Eastern entrance to Yellowstone. We thought our mid-September arrival would mean fewer crowds, but as soon as we hit Yellowstone Lake, without even noticing, we had inadvertently joined a large caravan of RVs and other slow moving passenger vehicles.
We spent three days in the park jumping from geysers to hot springs to rivers to lakes. Up the continental divide and back down into a deep canyon. There’s not another place like it in the world. The colors of the geyser basins, bubbling mud pits and steaming ground make you feel like you’re on a different planet.
We fished, but the Yellowstone trout proved to smart for our woven flies. We woke up before the sun to see a wolf pack nibbling on an elk carcass, but they were too stubborn to come out for us. We hurried to Old Faithful, but searched too long for a shady parking spot for the dog and missed the eruption. Good thing it’s the only predictable schedule in the park and we returned an hour later to see the next go ‘round.
South to the Tetons, the mountains glistened in the warm sun which provided a splendid back drop for our first lunch there. However, looming thunderstorms later played tricks on the majestic peaks. As the wind picked up, dark clouds swirled around the mountain tops and lingered just long enough to provide some heavy contrast to the setting sun.
Camped at Signal Mountain, we woke up before the sun again and it proved to be a good decision this time. Dodging herds of giant elk in the weak morning light, we made it to a crusty old barn just before the Tetons disappeared behind the clouds for the rest of the day…
Fortunately, we found a sweet campsite in Glen Canyon, just above the Colorado River and Sierra made it until morning as he relaxed in the dirt and stained his white pelt brick red. He rebounded slightly the next day, but we didn't want to test his fragile state by sightseeing too much in Capitol Reef National Park. 
We continued on to Bryce Canyon and managed to do some short hikes into the bowels of the canyon under the famous Thor's Hammer. Bryce's amphitheater of awkwardly sculptured rock spires, or hoodoos, radiate warm yellows and oranges at all hours. It was impressive to see such a drastic change in the landscape after traveling such a short distance.
Last, but not least, we made it to Zion and were greeted by Brooks' dad and sister. It was great to see family and to have them experience life in the van. They gave us a taste of the high life that we left back in the bay area three months ago. We ate and drank like kings and queens and worked off our full bellies each day on Zion's network of trails. The highlight was was slogging back into the narrows. Hiking up the river the canyon walls are 2000 feet high, but in places only 18 feet apart. 
We spent a day in Wind Cave National Park, featuring 129 miles of cave cramped under only one square mile of earth. The cave has only one natural entrance that the average American definitely would not fit through. We explored just two miles of Wind Cave and reached a depth of over 200 feet. Although the park is known for its vast underground network, the surface is also spectacular. Bison, pronghorn antelope, white tail deer and prairie dogs roamed the grasslands by the hundreds.
We capped off our time in South Dakota with Badlands National Park, where a hundred miles of South Dakota’s dry plains is abruptly interrupted by fantastic pinnacles and deep canyons of colorful petrified rock. Leaving the state, we were treated to an incredible sunset to the west and a full moon rising into the dark blue sky to the east.
In all, it was great to catch up, but tough to pull away from good company and a warm bed. Sierra was also sad to leave his new pal Cuzco and the comforts of a large back yard behind. We packed up, kissed Montana good-bye and drove off towards South Dakota.
An afternoon round of golf seemed to be a good idea for Brooks to pass his first hangover in months. The round itself wasn't brilliant, but the 515 yard 16th hole sure was. A 314 yard drive and a 201 yard 4-iron granted Brooks his first ever albatross. A two on a par 5, in his new par of lucky flip-flops and not so fancy rental clubs. His emotional high was short lived, however, as he scored a 6 on the par 3 17th hole and returned to his regular form.
Since being back in the lower 48 always seemed so far away, we never actually picked up a map and nailed down a route south. Such indecisiveness resulted in another detour from the journey we envisioned. Looks like we're headed to South Dakota now...
