Jackson, WY
Thursday, June 2, 8:47pm: Bridger-Teton NF (WY)
All my bad luck came out yesterday. Ooh – stress.
1) I had been staying in Salmon, ID for quite some time so I had to reorganize the car before I left. You know, take most stuff out and put it back in nicely. No big deal; I’ve done it a couple times now. Rain. (Wet tent packing, too.)
2) Driving along doing the normal thing, stop somewhere. The starting issue with the car is not solved. Probably the fuel pump is bad = expensive to repair. Oh well, nothing to do about it.
3) Stop for gas in Idaho Falls, ID. Get caught in hailstorm. Of course, I’m at one of those old stations with no awning. Freak out about my baby, the road bike. I’m helpless and can to nothing but worry and wait for the storm to pass.
4) I’m driving east, so I get to go through the storm again. Resignation.
5) Construction on road to Jackson, WY. Tire kicks up loose rock. Rock breaks rusted exhaust pipe in half before the muffler.
6) Drive remaining ~15 miles to Jackson (expensive resort town) to have it fixed. Car is ungodly loud and vibrates like crazy all the way there.
7) Mechanic informs me that the muffler has a whole in it; the whole exhaust system will have to be replaced soon. By the way, that fuel pump is more urgent.
8) Frustration.
In the end, I did find a good campsite (my current locale). I think I’m going to have to replace the car. I’m hoping the fuel pump will hold out until Boise.
Today was a vast improvement. I decided to stay warm(ish) in my sleeping bag and read in the morning for a little while. Then, I went to the campground host to ask for advice on a good hike. Went hiking along Granite Creek and saw a huge system of beaver dams (no beavers), a waterfall, a hot spring (turned into a public pool), and much scenery (see pics). Overall, a good hike. I sang and talked to myself the whole time because I don’t have a bear bell. That was tiring, but funny. (You were right about the bell, Mom.) From the trailhead, I started toward Jackson, realized my trunk wasn’t latched, retraced my drive to be sure I didn’t lose anything (phew!), and started back toward Jackson Hole, feeling dumb.
Jackson Hole is sort of a resort town/tourist trap/fancy ski resort place. I’m not into it. I mean, they have Eddie Bauer, Gap, Coldwater Creek etc. mixed amoungst the other shops on the main street. By some stroke of fate (it looked good), I stopped in the most non-Jackson Hole coffee shop imaginable for my chai. There was a sign on the door warning you not to disturb the dog. There weren’t any free tables because the owner and his two friends were playing some game at the only one. One of the friends has dreads down past his tush. It was basically a little shack somehow left standing on the main drag. The guy was nice, told me I should stay in Jackson since I don’t have a set destination, and made one of the best chai lattes I’ve ever had in my life. I would go back in the morning if it weren’t a sizable detour.
This reminds me, everywhere I’ve been (long enough to have a brief conversation) in WY, MT and ID someone has told me I should stay in that town. People either like me, like their towns, or are just welcoming in general. All seem like good things. I know there are other options as well, but... In Salmon, lots of people said I should stay. Joann Beers suggested it, telling me about another girl with a story like mine who did. The women who made my chai both times I went in. The woman who worked at the rafting outfitters. The guy whose kids I was playing with at the mechanic’s. I really liked it there. Everyone was great. The only person who thought I shouldn’t stay there was Skinner; he wanted me to go live in HIS home, Anchorage.
All my bad luck came out yesterday. Ooh – stress.
1) I had been staying in Salmon, ID for quite some time so I had to reorganize the car before I left. You know, take most stuff out and put it back in nicely. No big deal; I’ve done it a couple times now. Rain. (Wet tent packing, too.)
2) Driving along doing the normal thing, stop somewhere. The starting issue with the car is not solved. Probably the fuel pump is bad = expensive to repair. Oh well, nothing to do about it.
3) Stop for gas in Idaho Falls, ID. Get caught in hailstorm. Of course, I’m at one of those old stations with no awning. Freak out about my baby, the road bike. I’m helpless and can to nothing but worry and wait for the storm to pass.
4) I’m driving east, so I get to go through the storm again. Resignation.
5) Construction on road to Jackson, WY. Tire kicks up loose rock. Rock breaks rusted exhaust pipe in half before the muffler.
6) Drive remaining ~15 miles to Jackson (expensive resort town) to have it fixed. Car is ungodly loud and vibrates like crazy all the way there.
7) Mechanic informs me that the muffler has a whole in it; the whole exhaust system will have to be replaced soon. By the way, that fuel pump is more urgent.
8) Frustration.
In the end, I did find a good campsite (my current locale). I think I’m going to have to replace the car. I’m hoping the fuel pump will hold out until Boise.
Today was a vast improvement. I decided to stay warm(ish) in my sleeping bag and read in the morning for a little while. Then, I went to the campground host to ask for advice on a good hike. Went hiking along Granite Creek and saw a huge system of beaver dams (no beavers), a waterfall, a hot spring (turned into a public pool), and much scenery (see pics). Overall, a good hike. I sang and talked to myself the whole time because I don’t have a bear bell. That was tiring, but funny. (You were right about the bell, Mom.) From the trailhead, I started toward Jackson, realized my trunk wasn’t latched, retraced my drive to be sure I didn’t lose anything (phew!), and started back toward Jackson Hole, feeling dumb.
Jackson Hole is sort of a resort town/tourist trap/fancy ski resort place. I’m not into it. I mean, they have Eddie Bauer, Gap, Coldwater Creek etc. mixed amoungst the other shops on the main street. By some stroke of fate (it looked good), I stopped in the most non-Jackson Hole coffee shop imaginable for my chai. There was a sign on the door warning you not to disturb the dog. There weren’t any free tables because the owner and his two friends were playing some game at the only one. One of the friends has dreads down past his tush. It was basically a little shack somehow left standing on the main drag. The guy was nice, told me I should stay in Jackson since I don’t have a set destination, and made one of the best chai lattes I’ve ever had in my life. I would go back in the morning if it weren’t a sizable detour.
This reminds me, everywhere I’ve been (long enough to have a brief conversation) in WY, MT and ID someone has told me I should stay in that town. People either like me, like their towns, or are just welcoming in general. All seem like good things. I know there are other options as well, but... In Salmon, lots of people said I should stay. Joann Beers suggested it, telling me about another girl with a story like mine who did. The women who made my chai both times I went in. The woman who worked at the rafting outfitters. The guy whose kids I was playing with at the mechanic’s. I really liked it there. Everyone was great. The only person who thought I shouldn’t stay there was Skinner; he wanted me to go live in HIS home, Anchorage.
posted by Ashleigh @ 7:56 PM
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