Belter Skelter

We entered Jackson, WY on a hot, sunny day. The streets were lined with an strange mix of stores geared towards tourists ranging from fancy souvenir shops to fine jewelry to tapestry rug stores. It was clear we couldn't afford anything in this town except postcards, so that's why a few of you are receiving postcards instead of Pandora charm bracelets. We ate lunch at Taqueria Sanchez, where they had come highly recommended by my UrbanSpoon app. Turns out, they have preeeeetty good tortas. Nothing like a giant Mexican sandwich filled with pork in 80 degree heat. Peeling our fat selves off the sidewalk we decided to blow this popsicle stand for the real reason we came to Wyoming, the Grand Teton National Park. 

Kai's not afraid of wolves

We had to pull over before we even reached the entrance to the park. I've seen these mountains in endless ski movies Kai has drug me to over the years, but the sheer beauty and ruggedness of these peaks was breathtaking. The first thought that came to my head was how anyone with half a brain could basically be Ansel Adams here, just switch the camera to the black and white function and let nature do its thang. It was so easy to take beautiful shot after shot of these mountains, clearly they must be professionals.

We camped that night at the northern most campground as most of the parks lots tend to fill up before noon. These old people we share the roads and RV parks with sure do get up early. So, since we don't really roll out of the van before 10:00 am on any given day, we are never at a campground until well into the afternoon, hence why we camped at the northern most campground. The following morning I had dropped the dog's large plastic food container on my left great toe and managed to hit my head pretty hard on the inside of the van, all before even leaving our camp spot... Despite starting my day off injured, we headed south back near the main visitors center to do some rock climbing. We thought it would be pretty bad ass to claim that we've climbed the Tetons, so we were prepared for the boat ride and short hike to the climbing area. That's when we heard the ting ting tinging coming from the engine. We pulled over as soon as we could and inspected the engine for what had sounded like a completely loose bolt flying about under the hood. Better yet, our serpentine belt was completely frayed with a large rip down the center and about a foot long strand hanging on by a thread to the rest of the belt. After consulting our mechanic, (my dad), it was decided we could make it the 30 miles back to Jackson to have it replaced. The real question on all our minds was why the french was this recently installed belt fraying with only 2200 miles on it? 

Back in Jackson we found a CarQuest and acquired a new serpentine belt. The shop next to the CarQuest gave us attitude about fixing our van in their lot, so we crippled along down the road to a grocery store parking lot. There we parked, facing the hot 87 degree sun and lifted the engine. After burning several parts of his arms on the scalding hot engine, Kai got the old belt off (see below). Here's where it gets exciting, and by exciting I mean incredibly lame... So we're trying to put on the newly bought belt and we are reaming as hard as we can on the tension spring but there is just no frenching way this belt will fit. We take it off and compare it with the frayed POS belt and it's clearly about 3-4 inches shorter. Sonofabitch at CarQuest sold us the wrong belt. So Kai hoofs it back down the road a la Clark Griswold style while I stay with the non-moving van in the parking lot of a grocery store.... in 87 degree heat. Kai returns a while later with a new longer belt. We place the belt on, Kai under the van, me on top guiding him through the pulley system diagram that is clearly marked under the hood, only this time we have easily 2 inches of slack. "Does it just get tighter once you start the engine?" I ask hopefully. The dismal look on Kai's face told me that, no, that is not how that works. Off with this belt and back to CarQuest, Kai obtains the first belt one more time. I'm wondering at this point why we aren't at a shop paying someone to do this instead of getting 2nd degree sunburned... but that's beside the point. We place the third (first) belt, and this time with a whole lot of elbow grease and some swearing, we get it on. The reason it didn't fit the first time was because my husband was replacing it the same way the original belt had been looped through the pulley system (which was incorrect) instead of following the clearly marked diagram so of course it seemed way too short.. because the shop back in Portland that had put it in evidently just put in whatever worked and looped it through using their own made up diagram. Damn Portlandia. Ok, so I'm severely sunburned from being in front of a silver van on asphalt in direct sun light and 4 hours have now gone by. We decide to forgo the rock climbing, we already know we're bad asses- hell, we just replaced a serpentine belt 3 times in 4 hours! I wore part of the frayed belt as a bracelet that day as a trinket to remind me of the good times we had had together. 

Cruising back through the Tetons, we took a different route and headed north to Yellowstone for hopefully better luck....

Smelterville You Later...

We headed east towards Idaho Sunday afternoon. Some where around central Washington, it was decided it was my turn to drive the Truckster. We pulled over at a rest stop surrounded by beautiful wind turbines, and after taking several photos, I put on the Captain's hat. My name? Captain Swerves-a-lot. Turns out, it's pretty god damn windy in central Washington, hence all the wind farms. So here I am trying to keep up with traffic at 65-70 miles per hour in a van about 9 times the size of any vehicle I've ever driven. This van is so tall that I can't even wash the windshield at a gas station. The power steering on the Truckster is so loose yet somehow also touchy that I have to turn the wheel back and forth at all times just to keep it going straight. Imagine an old movie scene where the character is driving, never looking at the road, and shaking the steering wheel so much that you think they must be driving on switch backs... that's what I looked like, minus the not watching the road. I was watching it like a hawk, swearing at cars and trucks who came near me, my knuckles still hurt today from my death grip on the wheel, and I might have permanent worry lines on my face. Not good. 

We finally got to Pete and Jerry's house around 11:00 pm that night. Having not seen them since 2005 when they left Alaska, we clearly had a lot of visiting to do. Visiting with Pete and Jerry in the past usually invoved munchies, beer, and Dumb Rum (Petester's drink of choice- Rum and Coke) and this time was no different. We stayed up until 2:30 that morning catching up. We left late the next day knowing only that we wanted to head in the general direction of Yellowstone National Park.

We needed to return some uneeded items we had purchased back from a Walmart in Oregon, so we pulled into a Supercenter in Smelterville, ID. I waited for about 15 minutes at the customer service line as the gentlman ahead of me cashed his paycheck. I couldn't help but notice his unusally large ears and the fact that he had written on BOTH back pockets of his jeans the words, "WORK PANTS," in black permanent marker. Like he was at some point going to mix those jeans up with his Hugo Boss three piece pinstripe suit... After a very slow return, we picked up a few things but couldn't help but notice the amazing mullets, slack bra straps, and overal lack of dentation. This is the Walmart dreams are made of.

After referring to several guide books we decided that Missoula, MT needed to be seen. Missoula provided an eclectic arrary of beggers, students, homeless young people, farmers, and hipsters. Our favorite homeless-person sign, and my new all time favorite, "Crack don't grow on trees. Ya herd me." We stopped off at the Flathead Lake Brewery for a mediocre meal and one stand out Belgian ale.  After the meal we pushed on southeast to the Lolo National Forest. The atlas showed the road into Lolo as double gray lines, which according to the legend, was an unmaintained or gravel road. We rolled into US Forestry Norton campground around 9:30 pm in the dark. No free wifi here, just one creepy campground host eating ice cream on his couch surrounded by dirty laundry in his camper. We paid the 6 whole dollars and parked as far away from the host as we could. Aside from a few chipmunks and the campground host, we were the only guests at the Norton campground.

We decided to continue on down that gravel road the next morning as it looked as though it was about 20 more miles to the state highway junction. We pulled over at a trailhead and explored the rocks and a cool suspension bridge. After passing multiple signs that said, "Narrow unmaintained road- not suitable for RVs or campers", we finally saw one that said the junction was just a short 36 miles ahead. We continued on at a speedy 25 miles per hour essentially seeing just a handful of fly fishermen and abandon homesteads. I looked at Kai and said, "Wow, I feel like we're in the middle of nowhere here." To which he replied, "That's because we are, this whole state is like the middle of nowhere." Which is sort of true, according to Wikipedia, Montana is just behind Wyoming, which is just behind Alaska in population density. They don't call it Big Sky Country for no reason, this place is just huge. The landscape and sky seem to go on forever and ever. Sort of like Alaska, except it's warm and there are cowboys here. 

After a lengthy discussion about fly fishing, (What's the freaking point? All that gear, all that tying of the flies, all that standing around for hours on end, and for what? Possibly, maybe a 2 pound trout? Which is so freaking little that you just throw it back in?!?! What is the point of this crazy River Runs Through It bullshit?) it was decided that Alaska has certainly spoiled us.


Sad that we had missed the Liard Hot Springs in Canada, we decided the short detour off I-90 to Fairmont Hotsprings Resort was in our cards. http://www.fairmontmontana.com/ Fairmont boasts both an indoor and outdoor hotsprings pool as well as a 5 story waterslide, hotel and spa. We splurged and dropped the $15.75 a piece to ride the slide as much as we wanted until we burned holes in our suits. It was about 80 degrees outside and 92.3 in the pool. We decided that this place would be undoubtedly more awesome in the winter time, but we weren't complaining. We rode the slide and got our sun tan on for a few hours before deciding to hit the road. 

Captain Swerves-a-lot at the helm again, but this time in wide open, flat southern Montana. No wind here so my hands were significantly less sweaty. I turned the cruise control on and before we knew it, we were in Idaho Falls, ID at yet another Walmart. This time to load up on groceries for our upcoming Teton/Yellowstone adventure and to buy a bigger, warmer blanket. While it's been lovely weather during the day time, we've been struggling to stay warm at night with the small blanket we brought from home. Which is weird considering the incredibly small space we call our bed. This mattress is no wider than a twin and about 10 inches shorter. I sure hope Karen Wannamaker is enjoying our old queen Serta sleeper right now... we certainly took it for granted.

Having very little camping options in Idaho Falls, ID we headed east towards Wyoming on Highway 26. Just before the 3G network cut out, Kai was able to find a campground online that was about 20 miles away. According to "the internets", Spring Creek Campground was just before the river, instead we found Falls Creek Campground. Keep in mind it's now 10:00 pm and pitch black out, and Capt. Swerves-a-lot has been driving since Montana... after 2 miles down a gravel road we saw a sign that said, "Dispersed Camping- Max Stay 5 days" with an arrow pointing to the right. We cruise, I shouldnt say cruise, we crawl, down this pot-holed, gravel road for what seems like an hour, never having seen a campround, a sign, or any numbered spots. After a while we see signs for road construction and we see abandoned cattle corals and slightly scared, we decide to turn around. I find a very small off road pull out and proceed to do a 25 point turn in our 21 foot long van on this darkened gravel road next to a river. We end up seeing this weird dirt pull through area that is near a trail head. It looks like where snow machiners might park in the winter then head up into the hills on the nearby trail. We were nervous the next morning for Ranger Rick to come tapping on our window informing us of a fine we now owed having camped in a non-designated campsite, and not paying, and trespassing. But instead we awoke to four wheelers and dirtbikers ripping down the gravel road and US Forestry dump trucks heading to the construction site. We packed up and headed back down the gravel road, made much less scary by the clear blue sky and sunshine until we reached the sign we had seen the night before. Sure enough, it just said the same bit about "dispersed camping" and dont stay longer than 5 nights.... no fee envelopes, no numbered spots, no ranger, and no outhouses. It was pretty rad, except for the anxiety we experienced about the ficticious ranger and the possible law breaking we didnt actually commit. 

Up next, the Tetons and Yellowstone...

Presenting Mrs. Ludlow...

Our final day in Astoria, OR ended with a totally organized Truckster complete with new vanity and kitchen storage area. My yoga mat is now providing the dog with enough traction on the linoleum so her bed no longer slides at every death defying turn on the freeway. She's also surprisingly more centered and zen-like...

Living in a van, down by the river...

Astoria

Jack riding the human Kai slide

Kai's parents threw a BBQ in honor of his aunt and uncle who were both turning 50 this month as well as our visit. Burgers, salmon, and sturgeon fritters + Kai's massive family = a good time. There was no shortage of obnoxious "It's Nifty to be 50" and "Over the Hill" buttons, balloons, banners, napkins and plates. I'm sure Mark and Millie, the birthday boy and girl, were just thrilled with all the attention and awesome decor. KK finished all the leftovers mummu could give her and her HgA1c is no doubt highly elevated.

We left Saturday morning to head north to the Bellingham, WA area to celebrate the union of Caitlin Ross and Orion Ludlow. Her parents who live in an amazing lakeside house were the hosts of this all night soiree. Fresh flowers and mini lanterns adorned every table while pale gray and yellow fabric and tall grass swayed in the breeze as we watched the ceremony as the sun set on the lake.

We sat at table number 12 with all of Kai's old Ashland, OR mountain buddies, former ski lift operators and a lone local celebrity reporter, Tom. (Orion works for one of the local news stations in Portland so naturally there were a few reporters and anchors as guests). But we were the very luckiest of all to have Tom at our table because essentially we all dined with Ron Burgandy last night. Tanned to a perfection and with a sweater tied over his shoulders in a subtle, "Hey, anyone want to go sailing later?" sort of knot, he made inappropriately awesome comments all evening. All that was missing was a neatly groomed mustache.


After a Mexican feast, we enjoyed weepy speeches and champagne toasts followed by an array of delicious pies. The barn was the site for the dance party which really kicked into high gear after most of the guests had caught the last shuttle back to their hotels in town. It was at this time that the bride and groom seemed to noticeably relax and a very small group of us took over the DJ booth, did keg stands, and talked a lot of mess about the issue of to circumcise or to not circumcise. We rocked out to Orion Ludlow original songs and to Ween and the Miami Vice soundtrack (random), we reminisced over good old times when Orion lived in Anchorage, AK. But the most fun of all was spent discussing Catilin's new alter-ego, Mrs. Ludlow. Miss Ross, the girlfriend, was sweet, fun-loving, and cute... but Mrs. Ludlow is going to gain about 50 pounds (mostly in the cankle region), make Orion sleep in another room so that she and the dog, Sarge, have the whole bed to themselves, demand foot rubs, and burn his dirty laundry if he doesn't pick it up off the floor fast enough. Mrs. Ludlow has a deep, gravely voice and she takes no shit. She probably will wear t-shirts that have cartoon characters on the front and says something crotchety like, "Don't mess with me, I haven't had my coffee yet", she'll likely never ever do her hair again, or wear an ounce of make-up either. Us ladies laughed as we watched the developing sweat beads and look of overall dismay and defeat come over Orion's face. Isn't marriage awesome?!?! 


Dr. Jim (Jimbo) Ross, father of the bride, put out plates and plates of his homemade pork sausage at the perfect time, you know when you're drunk and tired and sweaty from dancing and need a little meaty-pick-me-up? The teenage boys from the next house over showed up like little hyenas looking for scraps, but they were after liquid scraps such as half drank bottles of vino and champagne. Kai and I provided cover as they rooted through the nearly empty reception scavenging for bottles and chewing tobacco. Normally I don't condone underage drinking, however these boys' parents were out of town and they were allowing us to camp out in their yard next to their trampoline, so it was a fair trade in our opinion. Plus they got wrapped up in having to listen to the very, very intoxicated best man's current marital woes and anybody who had to listen to that deserved a drink in return.


We slept well in the van despite all the nearly poisonous gas that is the inevitable result of an evening spent drinking beer and eating Mexican food. Thank God for the vent above the bed. This morning we woke up at a leisurely hour and walked up the hill again but this time for a brunch spread. We rondied with fellow party goers and discussed the possible fate of both the best man, who was last seen asleep on the neighbor's trampoline at about 2:30 am, and of Clare, who can be seen in the keg stand photo below, last seen topless (???) and passed out in a vehicle around the same time.

Clare

Intermediate Poets, Theo and Orion

Mr. and Mrs. Ludlow

After hugging the newlyweds goodbye and stealing a centerpiece, we headed out to Everett, WA to have an early dinner with Kai's aunt and uncle. We re-gifted the centerpiece to Eija and Risto, who made us a Thanksgiving sized meal complete with a homemade ice-cream cake. They're kids Marko and Katri and Marko's fiance, Michael, joined us on the deck in the sun. We departed with full bellies and a sandwich baggy full of cookies for the road.


Up next? We're trying to make it to Hayden, ID by this evening to see long time family friends Pete and Jerry LaMetterey, former Alaskans who have successfully made the transition from Alaskans to Americans, like we hope to do.