Great night’s sleep on the bus. Rolled out of West Yellowstone for the park proper at a good hour, but not before I bought a can of Boost Oxygen: Calm from the gas station next to where I parked for the night.
Never seen this before — don’t know if it’s to counteract bear panic, road jitters, altitude issues, or if it’s a new way to get high that hasn’t made it to gas stations in the Southeast yet. Felt like I had to buy something, after I filled my travel bidet’s squeeze bottle with water from their drink fountain (I took the nozzle off — all good)
Yellowstone Park. America’s first National Park. $35 for a day pass, or $80 for a year-long pass, good at every National Park in the country. Fuck it, why not. Got plenty of places to see in this bus — let’s do the big pass.
I lack the proper poetic largesse to describe the park — it was absolutely gorgeous (ask John Muir to describe it better, idk). Ample spots to pull over in front of the most incredible vista you’ve ever seen, until you get to the next spot to pull off, then you have to revise your most incredible vista rankings to make room for one more.
Hot springs and geysers aplenty — geothermal activity on full display. The sulfur mist being belched out from deep down within…it smelled good. Like a sensory reward for making it out here. Chose the Grand Prismatic Spring over Old Faithful as my main park attraction for the day. Good choice. I’d describe the springs as more ‘steamy’ than ‘prismatic’, but stunning all the same.
Spent the day in the routine of a motorist’s visit to this enormous park. Drive down a two lane road, see something incredibly sick, park the car, walk around for a bit, then bop off down the road for a couple miles until the next site catches your eye. It provided plenty of opportunities to make a grand parking lot entrance with the bus. Turned lots of heads. Felt good, not gonna lie. It’s like driving a Cybertruck, except people are happy when they see it, they compliment your vehicle, and don’t make fun of you behind your back (or to your face).
Parked next to a Chinese tour bus at one stop. An elderly woman walked over, pointed to the bus, and motioned if she could look inside. I welcomed her and a handful of others on board for a quick tour. When she exited the bus, she patted it a couple of times and proclaimed, “…good cah” and nodded. I nodded back, grateful for the endorsement.
Left the park as the sun was starting to set. Used a brief moment’s cell reception to pull up my destination for the night — The National Museum of Military Vehicles in Dubois, Wyoming. Don’t care much about a bunch of tanks, but they have a massive parking lot, where oversize vehicles are welcome at all hours.
90 miles away. I can make that, no problem. Got plenty of sunlight left.
WRONG. That sun disappeared quick — I checked the time. 7:30. Looked a lot closer to midnight. Way too early to bed down though — especially with no cell reception, so it’s time for my first dose of Night Driving.
Drove through the Grand Teton National Park without stopping to learn what a Teton is. Heard something like a windchime clattering around somewhere in the back of the bus. That can’t be good. A lighting fixture had become unmoored. Can’t worry about that at the moment.
Firmly in Wyoming now, and this state has some inclines. Crawling up a particularly problematic stretch, I see the temperature gauge edging up to the red. I’m pot-committed, and there’s no places to pull over.
“please no more hills, please no more hills pleasenomorehillspleaaaaaase” I repeated to myself as we edged up the perpetual incline. I’ve flicked on all the heaters I know how to, and downshifting is only doing so much.
The bus responded with three words: CHECK ENGINE SOON.
“Fuck! Fuck!! okay okay I know you don’t like this please just a little more please oh yes there’s a spot to pull over thank god.”
The light blinked off as we came to a stop, and hasn’t come back on since. Trust the bus. We both just needed a break. I left the oxygen holstered, and slugged back a couple ounces of my iced coffee reserve instead.
The downhill glide after I crested this Wyoming summit was fucking nice. Cool engine temps, quality coasting, and very few cars on the road. Cell service is still zero at this point, and I’ve exhausted the meager podcast supplies on my phone. I mash buttons until music starts playing — a chaotic assortment of random tunes cached on my device. MF Doom to Ariel Pink into Charles Mingus followed by some Longmont Potion Castle and some City Pop as I cruised towards Dubois.
Very, very happy to see Dubois come into sight. Already at a point in this trip where seeing a Motel 6 with a gas station and a couple bars around it makes me think “Ah…the big city.”
Military Vehicle Museum is about 9 miles outside Dubois. The most tempting attraction I saw driving down the main drag in town was the “World’s Largest Jackalope Exhibit”. Don’t know if it’s worth doubling back for, but I don’t know when I’ll be around even the World’s Second Largest Jackalope Exhibit…so maybe I gotta make time.
Pulled into the gigantic, empty lot for the museum, grateful to be off the road. Parked, put the rear stabilizer down, ate two gummies, cracked open the last Busch NA in the fridge, and took a massive drag off that Boost can1. Gratifying rewards after a long day on the road.
Writing this in an internet dead-zone. I’ll wander over to the museum tomorrow to get on the wifi and post. Wrote this in about a quarter of the time though. No distractions.
Sardines and Triscuits for dinner, if I can be bothered to eat. Fixed the light fixture though.
- Didn’t do much, really ↩︎
bus.hair 