The Pacific and the End of 20

Folks, it is done.  After three weeks and over 5000 miles, we have reached the Pacific Ocean.  Though a few days behind with the reporting, I have officially crossed the country on Route 20.

Boston of the West

Fruit infused beers are awesome and no one can tell me otherwise.  This has been reaffirmed by a flavor found only out west: Huckleberry.  Sweeter and more tart than the blueberry, Paul and I downed a six pack of Wild Huckleberry brewed in Whitefish, Montana as we watched the NBA Draft from the comfort of a Boise motel.*

Mountain Crossing

Our campsite is officially in the rear-view mirror.  After packing up the Chevy, we headed south towards Grand Teton National Park, our last major detour off Route 20.  Though we thoroughly enjoyed the three nights we spent camped out in Yellowstone, it soon became evident that we misplaced our priorities.  The Tetons are incredible.  Towering before us, I at last saw the Rockies in their full glory.  We snapped a few pictures and Paul vowed to return next summer to conquer Grand Teton, the tallest of them all.

Where the Buffalo Roam

Yellowstone National Park lures over three million visitors a year, and it’s easy to see why.  The place where we Americans first decided to preserve the bounties of the natural world for future generations to behold is home to an incredible diversity of landscapes, wildlife, and natural phenomena.

100 Years Young

Well, this was certainly not the plan.  I’m writing now from a Mickey D’s in Cody, the closest settlement to the east entrance of Yellowstone National Park, after spending two nights in Thermopolis – practically as long as we spent in Chicago.  I’ll most likely be out of pocket for the next several days as Paul and I explore the park, but I’ll keep on writing and put up a flurry of posts once I’m back online.  Until then, let’s focus on what a little town of 3,000 has to offer.