Epilogue: Free Beer

Whoever is the first person to identify the good looking young man on the right side of the photograph I will be happy buy him or her a beer. The second person to name the person will have to buy me a beer. Be quick or be sorry.

And so it ends

How does 7,673 miles grab you sports fans? Add our trip to San Francisco last year and we have now driven more than two thirds of the way around the globe. Man does my recliner look good. Learned a lot, lost five pounds, ate like a pig but no beer for the entire trip. I guess riding in a car increases your metabolism cause it damned sure can't be that beer puts weight on me. I rediscovered that most of our fellow citizens are first class. We found people to be friendly, outgoing and eager to share their experiences. As an example, I asked directions in a small business in Kalispell, Montana, the lady did not know of the shop I wanted to visit but left her own business wide-open, with no one in the store and walked down the street with me to her friend's shop. Her friend also could not answer my question. However she went on-line, found the answer and insisted I use her telephone to call and verify the hours of the place we were looking for. That sort of reception was the rule throughout our trip. We checked into our cabin, stayed four days and checked out and never saw the owners or staff. When we arrived the cabin was left open with the key on the table. While we were out sightseeing, the cabin was cleaned and when we left the owner called and thanked us for leaving him a message about how much we had enjoyed our stay. I asked a ranger in a state park in Montana about me having a loaded gun in the car. She replied, Montana trusts our citizens and visitors." She continued that the Governor and Legislature had taken step to ensure that no matter what Obama and Washington did nothing would change the gun laws in Montana. I think, to some degree, I have assuaged some of my fears about the country moving too far left, too fast. There is a quiet but firm resolve in the folks we talked to that some fundamental things are not going to change. In my opinion, Washington will make a grave error if they underestimate how deeply people feel about what they view as basic freedoms. But hey, I have been wrong before.

A long drive home, from Rocky Mountain National, thru Denver, to Amarillo and the next day to Memphis for our last night in a hotel. From Memphis to Gainesville was about eleven hours. Other than about sixty miles of severe thunderstorms from Raton New, Mexico to Dalhart, Texas we had a good trip. Jeannie drove thru the thunderstorms as I whimpered "we are going to die," however I will have you know it was very manly whimpering. Jeannie says I was not whimpering that I was shouting "We are off the road. all is lost, tell my children I love them." I think that is somewhat of an exaggeration but not a flat out lie. Manly whimpering I say, with an occasional high pitched shriek.

Some of the posts were delayed because of computer problems. Eventually, I was down to typing "WORD" documents onto discs in the evenings and then going to the hotel lobby and copying them into the blog the following morning. But, with a lot of help we got it done.

Thanks to all of you for reading this and putting up with countless misspellings, fragmented sentences and semi literate attempts at self expression. Some of it may have been unwelcome editorializing, self aggrandizement and pompous overstatement. I certainly hope so. It was a lot of fun and your feedback was wonderful. Larry and Jeannie, our trip is done, we are home and I hope to see all of you soon.

Rocky Mountain Pictures

Rocky Mountain High

We drove from the Grand Tetons to Loveland, Colorado. The City of Loveland is just west of I-25 about 45 miles north of Denver. Rocky Mountain National Park is thirty five miles west of Loveland. Around Valentines Day, and on some folk's wedding anniversaries, Loveland gets a lot of cards asking that they be post stamped as being from Loveland. I guess that is a romantic gesture, personally I don't get it. Could be that is why I have never gotten a lot of cards.

We got an early start and drove over to Estes Park, Colorado. Just on the outskirts of Estes Park sits the Stanley Hotel. Two remarkable things about the hotel; First it was built by the same fellow that produced the Stanley Steamer automobile and second, it was the hotel featured in the Jack Nicholson Horror movie "The Shining." The hotel is a large, white impressive looking structure with several outbuildings, pools and fountains. It seems to radiates luxury and old money. The hotel was obviously intended for the very well to do crowd. The Stanley Steamer was an interesting vehicle. The car would climb any of the mountain roads in the area and had a top speed of 45 mph. It ran on steam and produced no pollution. One model of the car set a land speed record of 127 mph. Makes one wonder why they ever abandoned the concept.

I lived in Colorado for a few years. My home was less than fifty miles from the national park, so every time relatives or friends visited we brought them to the park. I have probably been through the park a dozen or more times. I tell you this only because after having visited five national parks in the past three weeks, I almost asked Jeannie to skip this one. To miss it would have been a mistake, Rocky Mountain National was her favorite.

We entered the park through the East Gate. Trail Ridge road runs through the park from the town of Estes Park to Grand Lake, Colorado. It is a distance of about 40 miles. It has the distinction of being the highest road in America. About five miles of the road is above 12,187 feet. That is well above the timber line and gives you the opportunity to see a pristine alpine environment. Unless one is an accomplished mountain climber, there is no other way to see animals and plants that live so high up. The road is snowed under for about eight months each year. The park ranger said that at the higher elevations on the road, winter winds of 150 mph and temperatures of 50 below zero are not uncommon.

Unlike most of the Rockies, Big Horn Mountain Sheep and Mountain Goats routinely come down to lower elevations and even cross the roads. There are not a lot of places that provide an opportunity to photograph either species. Rocky Mountain National Park also has a large population of Elk. When I lived in Colorado, we used to come up in the Fall and listen to males "Bugle" to attract their mates. On this visit Jeannie and I were fortunate to see a large male complete with a "double shovel rack" and a harem consisting of a dozen or so females. On the periphery of the herd was a young male looking longingly at the females. After sizing up the size and rack on the older male, the young suitor wisely kept his distance. We will post pictures of the herd and the two males.

We picked a good day to see the park. The clouds were few so we could see most of the mountain tops. There are several peaks of more than 14,000 feet. One of the more spectacular is Longs Peak. We had a wonderful unobstructed view of the mountain made even more dramatic by having some of the lower ridges obscured by low lying clouds. The summit appeared to rest upon lower cumulus cloud formations.

We saw a wonderful ice blue pool in the middle of a snow field, unfortunately the pictures did not capture the beautiful color of the water. There are boardwalks out onto the tundra. Some of the plants at that altitude take twenty years to grow an inch, so a careless misstep can instantly erase two decades of growth. You could spend months in the park and still see only a small fraction of what is available. There are numerous trails for both the fit and adventurous and for the not so fit and sedentary. Wildflowers are everywhere, one extraordinarily beautiful variety is the "Indian Paintbrush." I am still amazed how something so fragile can thrive in such a harsh climate. While stopped an informational kiosk, we met a park ranger who had received his Masters from the University of Florida. He had seen our UF car tag and talked with us a while about the Gators and also filled us in on some of the lesser know aspects of the park. Throughout our trip we have found all of the rangers to be friendly and knowledgeable. One fellow commented to us that people visiting natural attractions like parks or forests tend to be better read and more curious than the general public. I think that for our part, Jeannie and I have reinforced our belief that some things like these lands are sacred and must be preserved. I hope they are here for our grandchildren's grandchildren. All in all, Rocky Mountain National Park was a perfect exclamation point for our entire trip.

Because we lingered so long in the park we faced a long drive to Amarillo. Like George Strait sings we made "Amarillo by Morning" but it was 2:30 in the morning and man am I tired. I will copy this and pictures to the blog tomorrow. Tonight the bed is calling. Be safe, more tomorrow.

The Grand Tetons and Backsliding Gators

Leaving Yellowstone you make a turn for Jackson, Wyoming and out the right window of your car looms the Grand Teton Mountain Range. What does Grand Teton mean you ask? Well, think Dolly Parton. Here is a hint, it is not her blond hair. The Tetons are among the newest peaks on the North American Continent. Following a huge volcanic eruption they were formed and located along the edge of a giant crater. The floor of the crater collapsed thus forming Jackson Hole Basin. The town is Jackson, the valley is Jackson Hole. If you forget, don't worry a local resident will correct you every time you mistakenly call the town Jackson Hole. Unlike most mountains the Grand Tetons have no foothills. Instead of a gentle rise in elevation and gradually more rolling terrain, with the Tetons there is none of that. There is flat land, and then suddenly there they are, a range of ten thousand foot mountains. The bases of the mountains are dark, higher up there are large snow field and glaciers lie between the peaks. Because the mountains are relatively young they are jagged and more rugged than other parts of the Rockies. Directly in front of the mountains is a river and large lake. On a calm clear day the mountains are perfectly reflected in the water. You literally cannot tell where the mountains end and the reflection begins. The Grand Tetons have more glaciers than any other location in the contiguous forty eight states including Glacier National Park. As you drive toward Jackson from Yellowstone the mountains are on your right and the National Elk range is off to your left. To say the drive is scenic is an understatement.

The town plaza in Jackson has four entryways. All four are framed by arches constructed entirely of elk antlers. The arches have existed for more than seventy five years and are a hallmark of the community. PETA, one of the more zealous of the animal rights groups, suggested the City remove the arches and replace them with something more fitting. Maybe with Spotted Owl feathers and an aquarium filled with Snail Darters, I don't know. In any event the good City Fathers suggested that PETA get the hell out of Jackson. Negotiations are not ongoing.

There was a lot of road construction in the park. All of the roads freeze during the winter. As a result you have frost heaves and potholes. Along one particular stretch they had completely torn up the pavement for resurfacing. It was one of those deals where North bound traffic is led through by a "follow me" vehicle. Then a like number of South bound cars are led in the opposite direction. It was a slow frustrating process, there was a lot of dust, we were out of range of radio stations so Jeannie and I were left with no option but to talk to each other. That is when fate intervened.

Directly behind us in line was one of those high topped camper vans. Through my side mirror I saw a man exit the van and start walking toward my car. I turned to Jeannie but she had already opened the pocket of the car, unzipped the holster and placed the automatic under a newspaper by my right hand. Some women are just too precious for words, nothing like being prepared. It was all for naught, as soon as I looked at the man, I saw a distressed soul. He said, in the saddest voice anyone has ever heard, "Sir, I saw your University of Florida License plate". he paused and his eyes fell on Jeannie's Gator tee shirt. She was wearing the one proclaiming Florida as the "National Football Champions and King of all College Sports." He turned to the lady in the van and yelled "My God! Esmerelda she is even wearing a Gator shirt." I immediately recognized the situation. I was dealing with a former Gator who was in mortal danger of backsliding. He had been too long away from the warm and welcoming campfires of fellow Gators. Even worse, this poor, lost man was only days away from becoming a possible Bobby Bowden convert. I had to act fast. I immediately exited my vehicle and said "Son, I am a Gator Ranger I have been sent out by the Great White Father in Gainesville to seek poor unfortunates such as yourself and bring you back into the folds of the Gator Nation. The man began to weep, he said "Oh Gator Ranger if only you could". I said, "I can brother, before another minute passes I can have you back among the Orange and Blue faithful singing "We are the Boys From Old Florida". The look of hope that spread over the man's face was indescribable. I explained that Albert, the Great Gator who rules all of college sports, had anointed me to make special dispensation for wayward Gators if they would repent. I'm telling you folks you had to see the joy on the countenance of this prodigal Gator at the thought of coming home to the bosom of his Alma Mater. Why it was inspirational to this old Gator's heart. After asking him to kneel, right there on that dusty highway, I asked him THE QUESTION, you all know "the question". Do you believe in your heart that Albert the Alligator is the greatest force in all of college sports and that Urban Meyer is his prophet? He said, "I do believe". I said, "My son rise up!" He replied "I don't think I can." I of course had forgotten a key part of the rites of the returning Gator Ritual. I asked Jeannie to bring me the jar of Gatorade from our cooler. Upon receiving the Gatorade I laid hands upon him and poured a small amount over his head. Friends, he literally catapulted to his feet and begin to lead the "Two Bits Cheer. " Well, let me tell you there was there was some shouting for joy in the Grand Tetons. Later, the three of us stood together, arms across each other's shoulders and there on that mountain side was some semi-sweet harmony as we sang and swayed to "We are the Boys from Old Florida." As physical evidence of his return to the Gator Nation I gave him my Gator ball cap and instructed him that each night he had to chant "Hail Urban" for at least two minutes and say three "Our Tim Tebows." Folks I left that consecrated site with the knowledge that in the morning when that man cut himself shaving he would not see ugly, red blood coursing down his face. No! he will see new blood in glorious Orange and Blue and he will know that there on that road to Jackson Hole, in a mystical ceremony celebrated by the all knowing, but ever humble Gator Ranger, he had been victorious in casting off the chains of disbelief.

Tomorrow we will be in the Rocky Mountain National Park. It will be another opportunity to reach out to those who have wandered far from the loving arms of Albert the Great Gator.

Until we meet again, this is Jim and Tammy Faye, oops, make that Larry and Jeannie on the road for the Glory of the Gator Nation.

Maybe you really can't roller skate in a buffalo herd

Today we were in the car a little longer than average. We left Bigfork, Montana around 8 AM, the drive south was remarkable for the number of large lakes that are so close to the highway and the number of luxury homes that people have built either on the lakes or on the mountainsides overlooking the lakes. There is a lot of money in this world and I find myself always muttering “what in hell do these people do for a living?” There just cannot be that many drug dealers. Can there be? Oh well, I am big into class envy.

Another thought that has been running through my mind since arriving in Montana, and for that matter while driving through Utah and Idaho as well. These people out here are so kind, and they have such a high quality of life, what in the hell are people living in a sewer like Washington D.C. doing trying to tell them how to live and to manage their affairs. I know, calm down Larry, I promised Jeannie I want go off on a rant.

Our GPS, you will recall the comparison to a “drunk riding a mule backwards,” anyhow the GPS surprisingly routed us to within fifteen miles of the western entrance to Yellowstone. We had not planned on going through the park this trip, but when you are that close there is no way we were going to miss it. Opting to go through was definitely the right decision. Jeannie got some great pictures of a momma bald eagle trying to teach her young one to fly. The nest was high in a tree but not too far from the road. The young eagle would cautiously approach the edge of the nest, stand on it and spread its wings but then topple back into the nest. All the time the momma sat there looking regal as only eagles can. The momma would spread her wings, flap them and peck at the younger bird, but alas courage failed the young eaglet and flight would have to wait for another day. We also saw Old Faithful do its thing. According to the park ranger the geyser has only been erupting every ninety minutes or so for about 630,000 years. When you consider recorded history is only a few thousand years that is a pretty good run. I’m not sure I understand applauding the geyser; I mean it is going to come back for an encore whether or not you clap. We saw a large buffalo walking in the road, I admire their style. They remind me of some folks in a super market parking lot. You know what I mean? slowly walking, big butt swinging, Traffic backing up? Too bad! Me hurry? Not a chance! The buffalo waited until there was about a two mile back up of traffic, swung his head around and took a look, nodded, he was probably thinking that seems about right and wandered off into the woods his job done for the day. We also went out on the boardwalk by the boiling mud pits and smaller geysers. Signs are posted everywhere about the danger but inevitably some genius gets off the path and is scalded to death. They said they lose about a dozen or so each year and far more get badly burned. I mean, hello! That is boiling water with steam rising up, hear the rumble? Smell the sulfur? You may not want to dive in something that is on fire, but that’s just me. But what the hell go ahead knock you’re self out, heck maybe it won’t burn you because you are sooo special! I have to wonder what Lewis and Clark, later the mountain men and other early explorers thought when they saw the very ground boiling? The literature says it was all due to volcanic activity and that the geysers, hot springs and the like are indicative of continuing pressure. I sure hope it waits another million years or so before it decides to show off again. We, meaning us humans, are nothing when compared to real power and the nature’s ability to change things in an instant. We saw herds of elk grazing, lots of folks were fly fishing in the mountain streams and all in all it was a super day.

Jeannie is the photographer, in the parks I am usually driving so she is the person who leaps from the car and fearlessly snaps the pictures. She is having a wonderful time, we both are. When we entered Yellowstone, she was literally bouncing up and down with excitement. She called Jennifer and told her about the young eagle learning to fly, as soon as she did it I knew they were both going to cry. But hey, a tender heart is a good thing, a very good thing

Information Technology Teams Averts Crisis, Thousands Cheer

This post is entirely due to the efforts of the grandchildren of Bill and Jeanne Bolick, namely John and Jennifer Herold. They are my information technology team and personal heroes. Over several telephone conversations they were able to make me understand enough to get back up on line. Thank you Jennifer and John, for those of you who like the blog they are who you have to thank, for those who do not like the blog, well at least you know who to blame. Thanks guys, not a chance I could have done it without you.