GGG 1: U.S. SW/Rockies

Great Geezer Getaway Blog #1, Summer 2010

3,750 miles/18 days/8 SW & Rocky Mountain states:
Nevada, Utah, Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota, Montana & Idaho.

(Blog Authored by Dave)

We posted blogs on each of our two major Great Geezer Getaway adventures. The first was into the American Southwest/Rocky Mountain regions in 2010 and, two years later, into the Pacific Northwest. On both, we received considerable responses and encouragement from friends, family and friendly folks we met on the road!
Below are our chronological daily logs AND the un-edited comments from our followers:
Here’s a chronological copy of our 2010 blog, which includes our respective accounts of each day’s adventures, followed by several comments posted by friends, relatives and strangers.
ENJOY!

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Two retired, widowed “old guys” with a combined age of 145 years visited a blog a few years ago that chronicled the ambitious cross-country walk of a young man in his late 20s. Called "The Walker,’’ they followed the young man’s experiences with interest and a dash of envy!
This sparked an idea to launch their own motor/photographic vacation trek of the Great Southwest/Rockies as a test of their close friendship...and to just have fun.
So early Monday morning July 26, 2010 – with a sparkle in their eyes and wearing big grins – Las Vegans Dave Kennedy (nearing 70) and Larry Litchfield (15 days away from 75) will depart from Dave’s home in his loaded hatchback on what they call The Great Geezer Getaway.
The pair’s self-imposed challenges: to do it as cheaply as possible, to camp most nights in sleeping bags in a tent, to cook meals over a fire and to visit and photograph as many different sights as possible
The aging adventurers plan to cover more than 2,500 miles and visit six other states: Utah, Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota, and Idaho.
They are avoiding freeways, hope to discover the personality of small towns and their residents and look forward to basking in the beauty of the vastness of the western America heartland.
"We intend to post our thoughts and pictures on this blog daily to the best of our ‘geezer’ abilities," said Dave. “The only drawback might be getting to the Internet with our borrowed laptop. It may take several days before we can report adventures in remote areas. We'll do our best and hope you follow along.”

7/25/10 – Prep Day
The final countdown continues on this beautiful Sunday morning. The day’s agenda: to load Dave’s car for tomorrow’s blastoff. I arrived about 10 a.m. while he was cooking breakfast. We were cracking jokes and discussing the adventure that lies ahead. Dave continues to search his computer with mounting frustration for his trip “to do” list. He says we’re a good team: he tends to be distracted with random thoughts and mental detours that can cause him to lose track of time. On the other hand, he claims I’m more a “worrier” and tend to keep him focused. We’ll see how this assessment plays out during the next three weeks. Next on the day’s agenda (as soon as Dave finishes vacuuming the hatchback) is to load the camping gear that was generously loaned to us by chorus mate Ross Marty…and then the miscellaneous “stuff” Dave and I have been accumulating for several weeks. Thanks to daughter Val and her David for unwavering encouragement and support of this adventure! – LL

This is confusion day! Right at this moment I’m trying to get used to using the laptop so generously loaned to us by my daughter and her husband, Laura and Randy. One stipulation, “Keep us posted!” My biggest worry is WHAT ARE WE FORGETTING? I make lists…but is everything on the list? Larry keeps asking, “What’s next?” I don’t know what the hell is next! And so it goes today. But somehow we’re making progress. And are laughing. -- DK

J.R.
Happy Trails, Lads!
Just remember these three rules and you'll be fine:
1 - Always carry at least twice as much water as you think you'll need.
2 - If you come across a place that looks a tad compoundish or see more than two plants with seven-point leaves, retreat posthaste and don't look back.
3 - Never play poker with anyone named after a state (especially Montana or Nevada) - but you should know that, by now.
Take care, post often and we'll see you back in the queen city of civilization in three weeks.

7/26/2010 – Our Long Awaited Blastoff
We met at Dave’s, loaded our final cargo and fled in a loaded car. We got off to a great start by almost hitting a senior bicyclist going the wrong way on Washington and then he headed the wrong way on 95 so he took 215 to reach 15. Poor Dave. We got gas in Hurricane and kibitzed steadily until stopping in Jacob Lake for ice which we forgot! At the Grand Canyon Park gate, we were told the campground was full and were advised that DeMotte Campground had spaces so we backtracked and found a nice campsite there…so we made an instant change of plans by staying there two nights instead of one. It was a reenactment of a Laurel & Hardy flick to watch two old geezers set up their first ever campsite…but we did it. First thing we did was to put up a BARBERSHOPPERS WELCOME sign to lure drop-ins. – LL

I didn’t think we were too incompetent at setting up the camp. We may have done a couple of things in the wrong order, and if we had prepared our sleeping areas earlier, we wouldn’t have had to do it in the dark. Larry had to make a fire and we set about gathering wood – damp wood since it had been raining all day long – and attempted to light it. We got smoke, lots of smoke! So we finally roasted hot dogs over the camp stove. They were delicious. The only lighter ran out of fluid, the matches Larry bought wouldn’t work. Now we had no lantern, so we went to bed. It was a rough, hard night, but we’re still laughing. Tomorrow we head to the Grand Canyon for the day. – DK

CC & Peck
Our prayers go with you for a totally unique experience! Looking forward to those entries! We're almost as excited as you two are. Vaya con Dios, amigos!

J.R.
Happy Trails, Lads!
Just remember these three rules and you'll be fine:
1 - Always carry at least twice as much water as you think you'll need.
2 - If you come across a place that looks a tad compoundish or see more than two plants with seven-point leaves, retreat posthaste and don't look back.
3 - Never play poker with anyone named after a state (especially Montana or Nevada) - but you should know that, by now.
Take care, post often and we'll see you back in the queen city of civilization in three weeks.

Elaine Kudalis
Hi Guys.....This is great, I've added it to my "favorites" so with a quick click of a button I can check in on you guys to see how your adventure is going. Keep us posted, this is definitely Kool with a capital K.....by the way, what's the temp where u are at? It's still hotter than heck in LV, though it's cooled off to a low 103 degrees, with a chance of rain, which we haven't seen yet. Hope you have great weather, lots of laughs, see lots of sights. Most of all, have LOTS OF FUN!!! :) E

Kent Litchfield
Anxiously awating you postings as we continue to pray for smooth roads, great weather and joy and humor in all that you do

7/27/2010 – The Grand Canyon North Rim
Up at 4:30 AM??? Well, we’d gone to bed when it got dark but it was a hard night, or at least the ground was hard making the sleep fitful. The sun wasn’t up so I took some pictures of the full moon heading for the western horizon before joining Larry photographing the low fog drifting through the meadow below the camp to the East. After securing camp, we drove to the North Rim, a twenty-three mile drive, where we had breakfast at the lodge. Okay, so we didn’t have a camp breakfast, but we had no lighter or matches. After we ate, we went out on the balcony, which was right on the edge of the rim. Larry opted to sit in a chair enjoying the scene while I followed a trail looking for some interesting camera shots. Had I noticed how steep the trail was going down, maybe I wouldn’t have worn myself out returning to the lodge. When we returned to camp we found it had been raining there. The roll of paper towels on the picnic table was soggy. It soon began raining again. Larry had started a fire (We’d bought a lighter) and insisted on cooking the chicken breast over the fire. The rain got steadily worse and after 45 minutes over flame, smoke and steam, the chicken was fit to eat. (Barely) The tent or the car were the only places to keep relatively dry. We opted for the tent, ate the chicken and went to bed. – DK

Yep! The rain was awesome, as Dave said. As a matter of fact, we agree that there has been more rain so far at our campsite than falls in Las Vegas in five years! Harmony isn’t only required to bust a good barbershop tune, it’s also a requisite for a camping getaway. After a full day on site, Dave and I are on the same page and work well together doing chores. We’re still tossing out one liners and laughing. The scenery is incredible everywhere we go, especially at the North Rim where we took many pictures. Nope…we’re never without our cameras. This trip is about many things: having fun, seeing the many incredible sights and meeting folks as we go along. Many couples and families from around the country and overseas come up to us expressing curiosity about two geezers traveling together. When we explain who we are, our common interests and especially our love for barbershopping they perk up their ears and request the link to this blog. Thanks for all the messages you folks are sending to us. We enjoy reading them to each other. – LL

David Kippen
Love the blog and the pictures, guys! Particularly love the picture of you, Larry, at the Grand Canyon with the huge cumulonimbus cloud (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cumulonimbus_cloud) next to your head. If you'd only known what was coming! Keep your chins up and have a great time!

CC & Peck
Appropriate sign....if you had brought 2 more guys with you (to make a quartet, of course!) you could have entertained the whole camp... once you got settled (if it was before midnight!). You're adding smiles to our days; keep up the great journaling!

Karen
I'm enjoying reading your comments - you are both entertaining writers. Looking forward to hearing more about your adventures.

7/28/2010 – Heading for Colorado
“Most people at this point would pack up and go home!” It was early this morning after a rain storm had plummeted out campsite and tent all night. We had awakened at 2 a.m. to find the tent floor had water in it and drops were falling from overhead. We shuffled some belongings around and simply went back to sleep. About 6 a.m. we got up and saw it was still raining. As we were breaking camp for the long drive to Colorado, I asked Dave what he thought of the rain. He offered the above reply and added, “but not me.” I echoed, “Me neither.” Today, in the wake of some wet moments at the North Rim, we enjoyed a long drive to the gateway of Mesa Verde National Park. Total mileage to date: nearly 700 miles. En-route to this popular destination we were awed by the majestic spires of Monument Valley on the Navajo Indian Reservation. If the rocky towers weren’t enough, the skies displayed a 360-degree show of incredibly beautiful, billowing cumulus clouds mixed with dark thunderheads spewing gray streaks of rainstorms across the desert landscape. It was a spectacle to behold. – LL

Tonight is motel night. Why? Rain, rain and more rain. I haven’t seen this many raindrops in the last ten years. The tent didn’t quite withstand five hours of heavy downpour, and when I told Larry we should pack up and go home, he misheard me. It took from 4:30 till 7:30 AM to break camp, cleaning and drying as we folded and rolled. Then we started driving. And quit complaining about a lack of posts! I spent the first two hours of travel as Larry drove, going through photographs and trying to pick what to post. Writing the blogs is another time consuming task. Once we prepare all that, it’s pretty simple to put it on the site as long we’re somewhere with Wi-Fi, such as this motel rather than a soaked encampment during a thunderstorm. A blog is a lot of work! You may notice that there is no rain in the photos we take. Who’s dumb enough to take pictures in the rain? You may see some distant precipitation in Monument Valley pictures, and it has followed us everywhere. Rain is expected in Mesa Verde tomorrow. We’ll try it and see what happens. If we get soaked again, don’t be surprised to see us back in a couple of days. P. S. In Cortez CO. we spent an hour in a laundromat drying the sleeping bags and washing the wet cloths we'd been wearing. -- DK

Rick
liked the soggy paper towels. Sounds just like two quartet geezers. Are you using the rain fly?

John T.
Wow! Sounds like you're having a fabulous time. Take advantage of all God's gifts out there in the wilderness - including the rain. He's just testing you. All these adventures will be great fodder for memories, and stories, and laughter in years to come. Stay the course - enjoy - don't worry about the little things, and don't fret about a timetable - go with the flow. Have fun.

Margo Boylan
I have enjoyed your posts...have a wonderful time and don't give up......Margo, Jack and Marmalade.

Karen
How well I know that feeling of rain in the tent. It happened a time or two to us when we lived in Washington. But I'm happy you aren't giving up! I have a feeling good weather is on the way...

7/29/2010 – Mesa Verde
Larry woke me at 6:30 AM! I’d been up until1:00 AM trying to bring our blog up to date and finally was able to use my C-PAP machine, so I didn’t want to wake up. But I did. Having a shower was a luxury after two days of wet camping. As soon as we were ready, we took off for Mesa Verde National Park. Just inside we stopped at the campground to find a campsite and set up camp. We’d heard that there was a 40% chance of rain so we wanted to choose our camp carefully. At check in, we were told it was a 50% chance of rain. When we found a campsite where a doe and her two fawns were standing, we figured that was a good omen and grabbed it..By the time we left to see the sights, it was around 1:00 PM and due to road construction delays, it was nearly 2 PM when we got to the main Mesa Verde area. Then we ate for the first time since we got up. I hiked down to the Spruce Tree House cliff dwelling while Larry sat up at the top and cheered me on. After the hike we took a drive along a scenic loop and saw many cliff dwellings and other Indian Ruin. One of the rangers told us that the chance of rain was 60% so we drove back to camp worrying while watching a couple of rainstorms move by. Then we saw a half rainbow and I told Larry it was a good omen. A few miles further on we saw the other half of the rainbow and I said, “That makes it a full good omen. We’ll have a dry camp tonight, trust me.” – DK

Since then archeologists have been learning about the people who lived in these hidden cities about 1,400 years ago. They were called “Anasazi” from a Navajo word sometimes translated as “the ancient foreigners.” Now they’re called “Ancient Puebloans”. Today Dave and I were treated to the whole uncut story about this ancient culture! We drove from outlook to outlook looking down into a dozen or so different cliff-side cities. The green vegetation and the reddish tan sandstone walls contrasted dramatically with the billowing white and grey cumulus clouds pillowing across the horizon. We also came across native wildlife, including lizards, a pack of vultures (which Dave alertly captured on film (‘er card). I spied a small herd of wild horses grazing in the shadow of scrub vegetation.As we were setting up camp in the morning, we met our new neighbors across the street. They were Harley-Davidson bikers from Phoenix who had just rolled into the neighborhood with a thundering roar. As they were turning into their site, Dave noticed one of the guys giving him a “shhhh” sign with his forefinger to his lips. I soon noticed a few minutes later “bashful Dave” standing on their tarmac chatting with them. I wandered over, introduced myself and we had a rousing chat with Shawn, a union leader, and Mark, a construction handyman Meeting nice folks like these along our Geezer Getaway is what it’s all about as much as soaking in the beautiful scenery. -- LL

CC & Peck
Took a hard copy of your blog to barbershop practice last night; CC read it to the guys; oh, yeah, they were rolling in the aisles! Almost couldn't sing after that. Too bad I didn't print out the photos; we are enjoying them, also. Please bring some of that rain back with you! My family in PA is following your trek now.

Melodie (the sister in law)
reading this my first thought was..... "and this is why I'm not a camper!" Hats off to you guys for pressing onward and upward!
Hope the weather clears up for you - I'm sending some California sunshine your way - catch!

7/30/2010 – On to Denver
We awoke at 6:00 AM in a dry Mesa Verde camp. The good omens worked and my promise to Larry was kept – it didn’t rain. I suggested that he start cooking breakfast while I start taking everything down and packing the car. A problem arose. There were no plates. After a short discussion, we decided to go to the camp service center where they sold breakfast – pancakes. With a well-packed Honda Fit and Larry driving, we left the park and headed for Durango CO. I worked on the laptop getting pictures ready for the blog.At Durango we went north through Silverton and on to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park where we took a number of pictures, met some people and all that stuff. We left there and went to the town of Gunnison where I made cell phone contact with my old buddy George. I took over as driver and we followed the road over Monarch Pass and on toward Denver. I guess we caught up with the rain that must have moved northeast. As it got dark, the rain got heavy. We went over the 10,000-foot summit of Kenosha Pass as darkness fell.I now know that my windshield wipers will work on the fast setting because I had them there for the next few hours. Most of the time I was going 40 mph or less while hunched over the wheel trying to make out the centerline and the line at the side of the road. Much of the time I couldn’t see either, particularly when there were headlights coming towards me. I did my best to miss those oncoming lights. It was a bit easier when there were tail lights ahead of me, which occurred when a couple of brave souls passed me and discovered they couldn’t go over 40.I was scared but I was concentrating so hard on the road ahead that I could hardly feel the fear. I had Larry call my Denver buddy to explain our delay and get assurance that we were still on the correct route. Somehow we got through it. Eventually the rain subsided and I started to see where I was going. In Denver, George talked us right into his driveway. – DK

The really big news is we passed the 1,000-mile mark just outside Gunnison. Dave’s explanation of our harrowing experience on a dark and windy night in a (at times) torrential downpour is not exaggerated. During the evening’s ordeal, he kept asking me where we were so I was focusing on the map with a flashlight and relaying locations to him verbally. I kept telling him he was doing GREAT, to keep his eyes on the road, to follow the car in front of him and not to speed! That seemed to stabilize his anxiety. He seemed to get a little calmer each time I told him he was doing fine. I asked him once if he was afraid and he quickly said “yes” without lifting his eyes from the road. I never asked him that again. (Pals know when to keep their mouths shut and thoughts to themselves!) He expertly navigated some very curvy roads and soaring elevations (Monarch Pass at 12,312 feet for one). For a baritone/bass barbershopper, he performed brilliantly, as I expected him to…under very stressful conditions. The happy highlight of the day was a visit to Silverton, a small community nestled in a valley surrounded by towering tree covered mountains. It is a town whose citizens are totally committed to their only “industry”: tourism! Until the early 1970s the main drag was unpaved; now only that central corridor is paved and all side streets are dirt. What immediately catches your eye are the many different vibrant colors that cover the unique buildings throughout the entire town. Merchants are required to adhere to rigid design and architectural standards set and monitored by the City Council. What also is appealing are the variety of store-front signs and artsy nick-knacks that are placed on the sidewalks in front of shops to lure tourists. A narrow gauge railroad links nearby Durango with Silverton daily. Oh yes, Dave wanted me to point out I got lost leaving Silverton and had to turn around after driving a mile or so up the wrong road. Hey…no big deal! – LL
P.S. Excuse the length of this post, but last night’s adventure somewhat justifies it.

Sam
OK, I'm getting addicted. Maybe you should just keep going. Hope you have a rain fly for your tent, and have figured out how to use it. If not, stop at an Ace Hardware and get a 1 mil dropcloth to put over your tent and keep the water out.
This sounds like the trip of a lifetime, wet sleeping bags and all. All of us on the "comments" area are really envious, and I'm sure we all think it's a tremendous thing that you are doing a trip like this.
Keep the comments coming. Once a day is barely enough to satisfy my need for an update.
Go gettem, little bro!

Laura
I'm so loving this blog! And so happy you guys were able to do this. The writing is very entertaining (by both) and the pictures are FABULOUS! I love the fawn. Don't forget to get some pictures of the two of you together out there.

Karen
Loving the pictures and glad you are finding some good omens.

7/31/2010 – Dawn in Denver
We arose early this morning at the home of Dave’s Air Force band buddy, George (Over) and his wife, Betty. Real nice folks! We were up late last night getting acquainted and rehashing the long wet drive into Denver. A soft bed and warm shower were both welcome. The big event of the day, following Betty’s hearty breakfast, was a motor tour led by George, of the spectacular Rocky Mountain National Park, also dubbed “the top of the world for everybody.” This park is set in the southern section of the 2,700-mile Rocky Mountain chain that extends from Mexico to Alaska to form the backbone of North America. The tree lines and tundra are accessible to visitors along the park’s Trail Ridge Road – the highest major highway in North America at over 12,000 feet. With cameras at the ready, Dave and I emerged from the car at countless outlooks to snap spectacular shots. The views were jammed with tourists, many with rambunctious kids, chipmunks eating handouts and birds flying freely among the treetops. George and Betty had “all but promised” a close-up-and-personal views of large groups of elk watering and grazing on the large masses of grassland. Bottom line: no elk! – LL
Some explanation about my friend George. We were in the Air Force Band together, and were good friends then. He and his girlfriend Betty introduced me to Rae and the four of us became friends. I married Rae and he married Betty a short time later. We visited with each other for the next few years until the separation of our homes made it too difficult, but we kept in touch. It’s been thirty years since I last saw George and even longer since I saw Betty. We’ve had a great reunion. I spent four hours in the morning updating pictures for the blog. This thing is a lot of work…you should try it some time. We took a trip to the Park to see the elk, but evidently the elk heard I was coming and stayed hidden, unwilling to pose for my camera. The views were fantastic and Larry kept asking me to pose in front of them. I gave in a couple of times. I took pictures of furry little animals and their feathered friends in addition to the beautiful landscapes. – DK

Melodie
Karen's right - white knuckle indeed! I think we all can relate to that one, I know I can! I've had a few of those drives where I've wanted to get out and kiss the ground when it was over!
Hey, who's Harmony??

Karen
Oh, and go gettum big bro!

Karen
Sounds like a nasty white knuckle drive. Glad you made it to George's and that you didn't have to tent it in the rain again.

8/01/2010 – Bald Eagles and Stuff
Today was quietly spent with hosts George and Betty in the Denver suburb of Arvada, CO. While they were at church, Dave and I worked on the blog…selecting photos and writing text. I take no credit for our blog, which is Dave’s project; I submit my text and he uses many of my photos too. But the time consuming work of designing and updating it is his. I’ve given him many pats on the back for doing a great job and he’s tickled the response has been so positive; to date there have been more than 200 visits. George had an afternoon gig with his quartet, so Betty drove us to a nearby photo op location where she said bald eagles could be seen with their young. We ended up in a blind searching the trees for nests. Soon it was apparent the eagles had flown the coop. It was a minor disappointment like yesterday when small herds of elk failed to show up in the Rocky Mountain National Park.After the eagle search, Betty took us to her favorite nearby small park with a tranquil lake and many trees that offered up some fine scenic photo ops. This quiet, restful Sunday schedule was a welcome respite before we leave tomorrow morning for Wyoming and an isolated campsite in the Medicine Bow National Forest for several days of camping and exploring. This campsite is near what used to be French Creek Ranch, a dude ranch where I spent a fun summer as a teenager working as a horse wrangler. When Dave learned of my sixty-year-old link to southeastern Wyoming, he quickly supported the area as a Geezer Getaway landing site. So we’re off early in the morning with the tent, two coolers and enthusiasm for what could be several days out of touch with civilization! Thus, this could be our last blog posting until we regain an Internet connection. Stay tuned; we’ll be back! And thanks for all those messages; Dave and I get a kick out of reading them. And thanks again, George and Betty, for your warm hospitality. – LL

The visit with George and Betty has been an extreme pleasure for me. As Larry has mentioned, they were exceptional hosts. For me it was an emotional experiencing renewing an old friendship from the time Rae and I were dating and the first years of our marriage. It brought back the memory of the deep friendship I’d shared with George. When I saw some old movie snippets of me at their wedding, and from a visit when our babies were just a year old, I saw some surprising things. One was skinny me at 130 pounds, and of course seeing Rae at 20 years old was an emotional delight. Although I enjoyed the sights we saw and the pictures I took, the experience of getting together with my old friends is the highlight of this adventure for me. Now we are planning on traveling on to Wyoming and a possible stretch of non-communication with the rest of the world. If several days go by with no updates, it’s because we have no way to connect to the Internet. So we don’t need complaints of a lack of postings. We will post as soon as possible. -- DK

CC & Peck
Your commentary is superb! We'll grant you a tiny leave for the time being (especially since we have enough for entertainment at barbershop practice this Thursday!). Thanks for letting all of us enjoy this trip with you; we are indeed envious (most of the time)!

8/03/2010 – Finally . . . French Creek Ranch
After a breakfast feast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast accompanied by V8 juice for Dave and a fresh orange and coffee for me, we tidied up camp and headed for the ranch. Unlike yesterday when the gate was padlocked, this morning the chain was attached but not locked. Dave was steadfast and refused to trespass. Dave’s that way and probably didn’t want to get arrested or shot! I told him I didn’t come over a thousand miles NOT to see my teenage ranch…now with the gate unlocked. So I removed the chain, walked thru the gate, left Dave happily taking pictures along the road and started hiking. I passed the dozen or so decaying guest cottages, the large pond now teeming with huge trout, and finally the main ranch house. At that point, I spied two trucks and a man refurbishing an old cabin. When he saw me, he dropped his tools and approached. I shrugged off some trepidation and we met. I said “howdy” in the clearest cowboy drawl I could muster and he replied. I noticed he was not carrying a gun. Then another man emerged from a second cabin, smiled and greeted me warmly. Soon the three or us were smiling as I explained who I was and why I was trespassing. As my tale unfolded my two new chums were patting me on the back and became fixated on my tale of being a youthful wrangler six decades earlier. I told the man in charge (Glen, the friendly building contractor refurbishing the old ranch) that I had left my buddy down by the gate because he had refused to break the law. Glen offered to drive his truck to the gate to retrieve Dave. He and I jumped on the tailgate and rode back to the ranch house, where Glen invited us to go anywhere we wanted. The bunkhouse where I had slept had been demolished, and the stable and corrals were gone. Dave later told me that he was confident our visit to the ranch would turn out exactly as it did. -- LL

We awoke early to the sounds of some animal. We both perked up and Larry said, “It’s a moose!” To which I replied, “It sounds more like a cow to me.” “No,” Larry replied, “I’ve never heard a cow sound like that.” “Sounds like a cow,” I reiterated. That was when Larry looked out the tent window and said, “My God, there’s a black cow licking the charcoal from our fire pit.” It was true. About six Black Angus cows had invaded the campground. I didn’t know what to do, so I ignored them. A camper from Nebraska, however, got a stick, banged it on tree trunks, and drove them out with the help of his three young boys. I asked the young ones if they lived on a farm and they said they did.So after we ate breakfast and secured the camp, we took our first walk, towards Larry’s ranch and what transpired there is pretty much how he described it, except I had a hard time keeping his excitement level down. Our second hike that day was the opposite direction where we found the “Tie Hack Trail” and followed that through thick trees, over a footbridge around 40 feet long over the French Creek and on through a mountain meadow. That was about the time we saw the cow, calf and big bull, a big, Black Angus bull. He was lying down, but when he saw us, he stood up and stared at us. The trail passed pretty close to him, so after discussing it, we decided to turn back. On the way back to camp, we saw a sign about revocation of mining status and I put on my glasses to read it. When we got back to camp, we noticed the threatening sky and decided to follow my brothers advice and put a drop cloth over the tent. After we were satisfied with our work, I noticed that my glasses were no longer in my glasses case in my breast pocket. We retraced our steps back to the sign twice, but no glasses. I realized that they were probably lost for good when the lightening and thunder started. It rained and hailed but the inside of the tent stayed dry. We were ecstatic. After the rain, a fisherman from Kansas came by and offered us a couple of trout for our supper. Again, we were ecstatic. The fish was very good. -- DK

John W 2010.8.4 22:15
Guys, I can't tell you how much enjoyment I get from your "Adventure" so far. We'll keep Cici reading the updates at chorus for everyone to follow. I've been to most of the places you've visited so far and your narrative is spot on and better then anyone's description I've ever heard, and sounds like a lot of phun. You're blog is spreading all over as, I guess, a few of us have told folks, who told some more folks, et cetera. Can't hardly wait for the next installment. BTW, the Whittier Shows were a blast and they treated us very well. C'ya in a couple weeks.

8/04/2010 – Still at French Creek Campground
Morning found two cold and lazy old men. I didn’t feel like a big breakfast and Larry wasn’t about to cook for one so we broke fast on cinnamon rolls. I took a short hike up a hill beside the campground. It was steep and around 600 feet high. There was a nice view and I didn’t fall. When I returned, Larry and I took another trip along the path where I lost my glasses. No luck. When the sky grew threatening, we prepared the camp for rain, (put most stuff into the car) and made sure the drop cloth was in place and secure. When the rain hit, we ducked into the tent. It was a violent thunderstorm with wind, lightening, thunder and lots of water. We took a nap and stayed dry. When we woke from our nap, it wasn’t raining, so we decided to take a walk down to French Creek. Everything was soaked and the bottom of our trousers became wet as we trudged through tall grass avoiding the frequent, wet cow pies. We followed a precarious path beside the creek and found a place to take some pictures. I found a spot with one foot on a large rock at the edge of the water and took a picture of the creek while Larry took a picture of me. When I moved back to safer ground my foot slipped on the rock and – here I go again – I fell over backwards, sliding down through the mud knowing I was heading for a cold bath. Somehow I caught myself with my left arm elbow deep in the creek, but nothing else. I looked at Larry who was about to have a hemorrhage. As I worked at getting up, Larry hurried down to help me. I probably could have gotten on my feet by myself, but I accepted his help. I wanted to get back to camp to get out of my wet shirt and doctor the small wound on my knuckle. After waiting for Larry to negotiate the treacherous bank, we quickly returned to camp. Later we walked down to the three-man camp of the men from Kansas who gave us the trout dinner. We had some conversation and laughter, particularly when Larry told them of the fall. Well, I was laughing too. – DK

Today started out quietly with no strict agenda…heck, it isn’t every day one digresses six decades in time! With the revisited ranch experience behind me, Dave and I moved on. Under clear skies with billowing, breathtaking clouds, we decided to take a short drive up from the campsite into the Medicine Bow Mountains. I took many pictures along the way. Upon returning to camp we prepared for what looked to be a looming rainstorm and decided to take a short nap. After the rain, we headed down toward the creek with cameras at the ready; we were looking for his lost glasses along the way. The underbrush was thick, the ground was soggy, but the splashing of the creek was growing larger with each step. Daring Dave was leading the way and walked down to the creek’s rocky edge. I saw him stepping out on some big boulders pointing his camera toward the tumbling water upstream. That was the last photo I took of him before the fall. He moved toward the bank and had one foot on the muddy shore and another on a rock. He was repositioning himself, moved his foot on the shore when I saw him wobble, utter a word or two of surprise and “kerplunk” down he went on his back in a muddy splash. He still had the camera in his right hand as he lay there with a look of surprise and a tinge or embarrassment. My quandary at that moment: to snap a picture or two of Dave splayed on the rocks with his left arm outstretched OR to help him up. I opted for the later and helped him get to his feet and to the grassy bank. His clothes were muddy his jacket was soaked and he wanted to return to camp. As we walked along, he repeatedly said I should have taken a picture or him lying there on the shore of French Creek. It was a question I couldn’t believe I was hearing. -- LL

8/05/2010 – Hello Saratoga, Wyoming
We woke up in the morning to a cloudless sky and an eagerness to move on. I hadn’t slept well because my finger had grown throbingly painful. I knew it was infected and needed some treatment. Larry asked me about breakfast and I suggested we break camp and go to Saratoga first. He agreed but he wanted to go for a walk around the campground. I began arranging things for packing, got the tarp from under the tent and found a place to spread it out in the sun. I noticed Larry talking to the campers down the road. Next time I looked he had disappeared around the bend. A short time later, a pickup came to a stop by the campsite and the driver shouted, “Hi Dave!” I looked at this guy I’d never met and said, “You must have been talking to Larry.” He laughed, we conversed a bit and he moved on. When I went to check on the tarp, I noticed that Larry was back at the camp down the road talking again. The tarp had dried enough to shake off the dirt which I did as I walked back to the camp, then folding it as I stood in the road beside our camp. Entering camp through the brush along a path I hadn’t used much, I was being careful about the cow pies. Suddenly, sparkling in the sunlight, I saw my glasses lying there. I was ecstatic. They may have been stepped on once because they were slightly out of kilter but other than that, they were fine. I walked down to the next camp to show Larry. We got everything packed up and left for Saratoga where I went to a clinic to have my finger checked out. Larry was eager to explain to everyone just how I hurt it. Thanks to Medicare I didn’t have to pay anything. X-rays indicated no breaks and I was treated for an infection. They wanted me to come back the next day to check it again and I agreed since we planned on spending the night in a motel so we could update the blog. – DK

This morning -- in the wake of my French Creek Ranch adventure two days earlier -- I decided to wander the 11 camping sites, meet our neighbors and do a little “GGG” PR along the way. The “campers” Dave was referring two were a park ranger (Steve) and two young university students who were spending a “learn-by-doing” summer with him in the area we were visiting. As I continued on, I saw a pickup approaching so I stepped aside. The two occupants waved, stopped and got out. One was silver haired; the other was a youthful carbon copy of the other. They were a most congenial father (LeRoy) and son (Kevin) duo from Kansas who were in southeast Wyoming to do some fishing along French Creek. We chatted a long time. That evening, Dave and I wandered into the campground of the fishermen who gave us the two trout for dinner. This is one of the more delightful aspects of our trip that Dave and I truly enjoy: meeting strangers at our sightseeing destinations and at the campgrounds where we stay. After Dave’s medical crisis at a clinic in Saratoga, we high-tailed it to a local Laundromat for our second clothes washing. We easily attracted considerable non-solicited assistance from women doing their own wash. We also visited a local hardware store to buy a lightweight “drop cloth” to toss over our tent during frequent nocturnal rain squalls. NOTE: during a quick glance at the speedometer, I noticed we had recently passed the 1,515-mile mark. In mid-afternoon, I got the brainstorm to visit the local Saratoga Sun weekly newspaper to offer up a small feature story idea on the GGG trek with the local “news peg” being my return to French Creek Ranch. General Manager Liz Wood listened to my story with considerable interest and took copious notes. She said she would visit our blog and would welcome some further information upon our return home. I promised to follow up with her. She also mentioned the name of a local colorful chap named Dick Perue, whom I had contacted several months ago regarding the existence of the ranch she urged us to visit him; which we did by following Liz’ directions to his home. Dick, the acknowledged “historian” of Carbon County, greeted Dave and me warmly and treated us to a “showing” of his large collection of historical photos of southeastern Wyoming. He encouraged us to provide the Sun and Liz with follow-up information on the outcome of our Great Getaway. – LL

8/06/2010 – Goodbye Saratoga
After working on the blog last night and still not being caught up, Larry and I continued this morning. The motel advertised wireless Internet but as it turned out we had to go to the office to connect. The manager was nice and ran the whole place with the help of a summer employee who was mainly there to paint doors. (We’re being frugal.) We were rushed because I had a 10:30 appointment at the medical clinic. The finger was feeling much better and the nurse practitioner was pleased with the way it looked. I guess all I had needed was the touch of a woman. After breakfast we headed north with a late start. We knew we couldn’t make it as far as we’d planned so we spotted a camp icon on the map at Glendo Reservoir. It was a pleasant surprise to find a free campground with plenty of campsites available. The unpleasant surprise was the thunderstorm that was moving in. We should have known because it seemed to rain at every campsite we had. Sure enough, shortly after we got the tent set up, a crash of thunder introduced the rain. In the beginning there was a lot of wind that billowed the drop cloth like a parachute and tore it loose from the rock anchors. Rather than fight it in the rain, we opted to let it hang like a flag from the cross rope and find shelter in the tent. The rain was hard and the thunder was loud, but it all ended in a half hour. The tent survived and we were able to put the drop cloth on in case there was more rain. There wasn’t, in fact within an hour we were under a blue sky so we could watch the sun set. Around 11:00 pm, I stuck my head out to see if the stares were visible. They were, so I told Larry to get out of the tent and look. There we stood, two old men in skivvies, looking up at the sky. I thought Larry was going to faint. He was in awe of the millions of stars and the wispy streak of The Milky Way. “Why have I never seen this before?” he asked. I told him he probably had but didn’t remember it. -- DK

I started the day driving Dave to his follow-up med check on his finger…we learned he’ll survive. Later, after a riverside breakfast at a rural restaurant, the morning’s drive became quite scenic, following the meandering North Platte River through farming country and range-land. We smiled at some whimsical road signs along our route. They included “ROAD WORK AHEAD – Pay Attention or Pay The Price” and, providing our first major laugh of the day: “LOST SPRINGS…Pop.1”.The camping routine is becoming much easier for both of us and the Glendo site proved no exception. One of my chores has turned out to be gathering wood for our evening fires while Dave sets up the tent, which, we discovered is easier to do alone. But locating dry wood chunks has been increasingly difficult. We manage to have long-burning blazes each night however and enjoy sitting around the fire ring chatting and laughing. The view of the stars overhead, unencumbered by lights of cities or rain clouds, indeed, was a sight to behold. I had forgotten how vast our universe is and seeing it so up close and personal brought goose bumps to this ol’ geezer. -- LL

CC & Peck
We appreciate all the time it takes to write in your blog and attach those awesome photos. It took a while to read the passages about your 'mountain trek in the rain' and visiting Dave's friends, so the guys had to just sing faster for the second half of rehearsal! You won't recognize your fellow G-A's; after listening to your adventures, we are all green with envy (& St. Patty's day is a way off). We've decided you will make a book about this adventure

8/07/2010 – Mount Rushmore
Two lazy old men broke camp at the Glendo Reservoir and decided to buy breakfast in the nearby town of Glendo. It was good and Larry was ecstatic. With Larry driving and me working on blog entries, we began looking for Custer State Park and Mount Rushmore. We found motorcycles, hundreds of them, in groups ranging from three to thirteen and more. We found a rest stop near the eastern border of Wyoming that featured large, well-maintained restrooms with an American flag waving over it. There were over a hundred motorcycles parked in the large parking lot around it and motorcyclists stood around talking and relaxing. One was giving away cold, half liter bottles of water, even to car drivers. It was there that we learned of the 70th Annual Sturgis Motorcycle Rally that expected a half to three quarters of a million motorcycle riders. We found that every road within 150 miles of Sturgis, contained a plethora of motorcycles. After entering South Dakota, we drove into Custer State Park where we saw Bison, pronghorn and motorcycles. The cute young lady at the entrance gave us a list of other animals it was possible to see, but they evidently saw us first. The scenery was great and the road led us onto the approach to Mount Rushmore. They didn’t accept our Senior Pass there so we had to pay. Everything was impressive and we looked at it all. I still don’t know why Teddy Roosevelt was included with Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln; however, I learned how the sculptor was able to get the job done both physically and politically. Shortly after we left Mount Rushmore we found a campground. It was a hosted National Forest campground so we paid half price with the senior park pass. We set up camp and it didn’t rain. I was ecstatic. – DK

Today turned into a planet of noisy motorcycles! They came at us from all directions. Dave describes the situation accurately. They were parked roadside, jammed into gas stations and restaurant parking lots. We chatted with many and learned they were all courteous, friendly and willing to discuss their pastime and the route we were taking. We also noticed most were middle aged! We also decided that these folks use the Sturgis Rally as an excuse to get out on the road and tour the west every summer; many bikers we encountered claimed to have done “The Sturgis Thing” annually for decades. We passed many towns along our route that were on our map, but decided a large number of them were comprised of only the one or two homes we saw. The scenery continued to reflect the awesome beauty of this western part of this great country or ours. The beauty of Custer State Park was quite impressive as we saw Bison roadside and spread across the distant landscape in vast numbers. The spectacular view of the four presidents carved into the granite of Mt. Rushmore was very moving and we took many pictures from the crowded viewing platform. We located Nevada’s “Battle-Born” blue flag amidst the other state and territory flags and dutifully took our share of remembrance photos. I have noticed that Dave still needs gentle coaxing to be photographed but he’s becoming easier to get into a picture with that big smile of his. -- LL

8/08/2010 – Into Montana
Before I got out of the sleeping bag, Larry told me, “Boy it really rained last night. It’s a wonder it’s still dry in the tent.” I’d been awake myself a couple of times and I answered, “No, it wasn’t rain, it was the wind blowing through the pines.” He disagreed, claiming he heard the raindrops hitting the tent but upon opening the tent door, he saw that it was dry outside. So I began taking down the tent and rolling everything up while Larry fixed breakfast. It was great, but I didn’t have much of an appetite that early in the morning. Once packed we headed for the Crazy Horse Monument, but they wanted money and we could see that it was still under construction with only the face done, so we didn’t go in. Traveling on north, we went through Historic Deadwood where thousands of Motorcyclists were seeing the sights and spending money. At the edge of Deadwood, I missed a turn and we wound up going to a town we hadn’t intended to go through: Sturgis. There were booths, tents, saloons and restaurants, each surrounded by parked motorcycles, and moving motorcycles going both ways on every street. Each tiny town we went through within fifty miles of Sturgis had special booths and tent concessions catering to the motorcyclists We found our way to Devils Tower and more motorcycles. This is truly a natural wonder. I took the hiking trail all the way around it while Larry relaxed and talked to one of the biker wives and learned all about the biker clubs. Supposedly, Harley Davidson has tucks outfitted to repair broken down motorcycles for free during the Sturgis Rally. At the visitor center we learned the geological explanation of the tower in addition to the explanation through Indian folklore. Personally, I’m going with the Indian explanation. On the road away from Devils Tower we stopped at what turned out to be a prairie dog town. I got some good photos of the cute little buggers. On the road again we found a free National Forest campground. We were the only campers there. It rained after we set up camp but it didn’t last long. The stars were out when we went to bed so I took the rain cover off only to wake up an hour later to some splatters of rain through the star view screen of the tent. Thus, in our skivvies, we got out into the light rain and put it back on. – DK

I still maintain it SOUNDED like rain, although the wetness I believe I felt on the tent side was caused by the frigid outside air. (Enough about this…time to move on.)The Crazy Horse visit seemed like another government ripoff. Twenty bucks to get past the guard gate to see a barely started rock replica of the Indian chief seemed way too extravagant for these two budget-conscious seniors so we told the ranger “thanks anyway” and turned around. We did, however, take a quick photo of the monument under construction in the distance. Deadwood was a fascinating town with the highway weaving between high hillsides lined with interesting establishments reflecting its colorful “gun-slinging” history. Dave’s account of the constant presence of Sturgis-lured bikers in Deadwood is accurate and needs no amplification!One of my all-time favorite Hollywood films is Strange Encounters of the Third Kind so our visit to Devils Tower held a special attraction to me. At first distant glance, the film’s centerpiece landmark appeared stately above the hazy horizon. As we approached it, more detail of the towering lava protrusion became visible. The visitor’s center was packed with bikers and as we walked toward the tower, Dave spied a trail and I figured he’d be disappearing again; as his jaunts often are too steep or difficult for me to maneuver. He quickly vanished up the trail into the scrub oak and I looked around for something to do. I took some photos and met a middle-aged biker lady named Betty who explained to me much of the lore associated with Sturgis and the black-clad bikers in general. She had her own bike and shared much information. They wear leather clothing as protection should they fall on the pavement; and bikers wishing to join a biker “group” must demonstrate his/her riding abilities and friendliness before being accepted into that group. I came away with a much better understanding of the camaraderie and purpose of biking. Dave and I both enjoyed chatting with friendly bikers along our journey. –LL

John T.
It's been almost a week now since your last blog entry. Anxious to hear about your latest trip experiences and events. Sure hope you taqke the time to go to Glacier Nat'l Park. I think you'll be awestruck there.
John T.

8/09/2010 – Little Bighorn
We have been trying to decrease the time it takes to break camp. We did pretty well but we took time to repack the car. It had become a mess. Larry made some coffee and we both had a couple of cinnamon rolls and went looking for Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument. It turned out to be a fascinating, informative and inspiring experience. I particularly was pleased with the information and memorial for the Indian warriors who died there. When leaving there, we found a KFC and had a nice chicken brunch and then hit the road that led back into Wyoming. Once back in Wyoming we headed west towards the Bighorn Mountains. I finally realized where the name of Little Bighorn came from. The hills east of the Bighorn Mountains are the Little Bighorns. As to the name of the Bighorn Mountains, it comes from the Bighorn Sheep, but there are no longer any there because they were wiped out by disease brought by domestic sheep. Right after 9,033-foot Granite Pass, we found a visitor center and stopped for a short hike along a paved trail. I took pictures of flowers, landscapes, dead trees and a marmot, evidently related to a woodchuck. Moving on, we found Shell Creek National Forest Campground, a hosted site where I used my Senior Pass. Even as we checked in, there was a spattering of raindrops. – DK

A feeling of deep emotion settled upon me as we approached the site of General Custer’s futile battle with upwards of 2,000 Lakota, Cheyenne and Arapahoe Indians who, in late June 1876, attacked and killed 260 Army soldiers, including Gen. George Custer, on the rolling plains of Southern Montana. The site is well mapped and offers a vivid glimpse into those two fateful days 134 years ago. A solemn pall hangs in the soundless air as visitors trek over walkways from site to site reading plaques and envisioning the battle sequence. We see a fenced site where Custer and his comrades were found. We also are granted access into a special Indian Memorial that describes the Indians’ sense of sadness and determination for what they did – but no remorse. Many tribal leaders are quoted acknowledging the extreme bravery of the soldiers in defending their positions until their death. One can almost visualize the attacking Indians approaching up the many gullies toward the soldiers, who are literally sitting ducks atop the barren ridges. It was a sad two-day battle and an emotionally moving day for Dave and me. Shell Creek was a beautiful campsite beside tumbling water beneath towering, root-gnarled oaks. It had two vacancies and we grabbed one of them. I did my customary firewood gathering while Dave set up the tent. The ground was too hard for him to hammer pegs into to secure the four corners of the tent; so he used a long length of rope in a creative, maze-like design connecting to large rings in the log border of the tent boundary. (I told you it was creative!). He was quite proud of his handiwork and basked in my casual praise. We continue to joke and laugh…and during the early evening hours met many fellow campers as they moved along the bank in search of elusive trout. -- LL

P.S. We apologize for the lack of regular blog postings. We’ve been camping for many days and have just landed in a motel in Alpine, a small town at the Wyoming-Idaho state line where we plan to bring our adventure’s chronicle up to date. Thanks for staying with us. Please keep those comments coming…we love reading them. All’s well and we’re still speaking to each other as we enter our third wonderful week on the road!We left our campsite, in the shadow of 7,000-foot Black Mountain, and headed for breakfast in Greybull, another small mountain town. Our targets for today include Buffalo Bill Dam/reservoir, Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons – the latter two considered among the highlights of our much heralded Getaway; neither of us have visited these world-famous attractions..When built in 1925 (then the world’s tallest, the Buffalo Bill Dam, near the town of Cody, towered 325 feet over the Shoshone River, which it harnessed; Twenty-five feet were added later. By contrast, Nevada’s Boulder Dam stood 723 feet when completed in 1936 across the Colorado. Yellowstone totally fulfilled its advance billing. We were surprised with the expanse of Yellowstone Lake, which spreads widely throughout the central park area in huge depressions created three volcanic eruptions millions of years ago. Despite the heralded population of a variety of animals, we only saw a few bison. Traffic was heavy. At one point we were backed up by tourists standing on the side of the road photographing what they excitedly claimed was a sleeping Grizzly! We decided against joining the picture taking throng. Leaving Yellowstone, our route took us south through the Tetons Wilderness Area with the well-recognized view of the Grand Tetons Mountains. We stopped and took pictures, despite the haze and sun being in the wrong position. Today is my 75th B-day and I feel no older! It’s been a milestone I’ve contemplated since a kid and now it means little. Age is relative and a frame of mind. Be happy, stay healthy, think young…and sing barbershop! -- LL

We again opted to buy breakfast rather than cook it. My problem is getting an appetite which usually comes along about an hour after I get up, while Larry is looking for coffee the minute he gets out of bed. As we drove through the beautiful landscape of Wyoming, we found an impressive waterfall on Shell Creek. We paused to take pictures and then moved on, passing trough the town of Cody. After passing through some interesting tunnels and found, quite by accident, the Buffalo Bill Dam. The scenery was impressive and it was interesting to learn that the dam was finished in 1910 with the final pour of cement done in -10 degree temperature. They had it covered with canvas under which they had steam flowing to keep the cement warm until it set. I’ll have to admit that by this time I was starting to burn out on sightseeing and camping. Larry later admitted that he was too. We went through Yellow stone with only two stops to take pictures, and made a couple of stops at the Grand Tetons for the same reason. Jackson Wyoming looked like a tourist destination too expensive for us so we passed through without stopping. It was getting late and we wanted a motel, but would settle for a campground which we found, but were scared away by the bear proof food lockers at each campsite where all food had to be kept so the Grizzlies wouldn’t smell it. We went on and found Alpine, a small Wyoming town near the Idaho border. Larry asked a young woman working in a convenience store if we were still in Grizzly country and she said “Yes,” in a matter of fact tone. I told her we were from Las Vegas and didn’t know how to deal with Grizzlies. We found a motel and tried to get up to date on the blog. It’s time consuming and internet connections are rare, but we do the best we can. -- DK

8/11/2010 – Craters of the Moon
We started off on the wrong foot as we departed Alpine. When we left the motel, I turned right instead of left and while I was on the correct highway, I was going the wrong direction. Larry started questioning it when we saw some mileage signs to towns we weren’t supposed to be going to. Fortunately I’d only gone about 10 miles and we did see some nice scenery. Once we turned around and started going the right direction, the scenery got sort of dull. We were heading towards a National Monument called Craters of the Moon. It’s a lava field with small cinder cones complete with holes that go down fifteen or twenty feet and curve off into some underground passages. As we toured this desolate looking area, I was struck by the beauty of some wild flowers that were growing there. We passed through a lot of farm land, most of which had sprinklers watering the fields. At times it looked like there was more water being pumped onto those fields than Las Vegas Valley uses in a week. Everywhere you looked you could see the white mist of irrigation. In farmland, there aren’t campsites. We began to get worried as it got later, and finally, after passing through a small town, we spotted a Sheriff pickup sitting beside the road, probably on the lookout for speeders. I stopped and Larry asked him about campsites. He told us how to get to a campsite by a large reservoir that was only ten miles out of our way. It was a pleasant campsite and it didn’t rain much, just a little. – DK

The road from Alpine continued northwest on Highway 26, alongside Palisades Reservoir into Idaho Falls. We passed the unique, lava rock-covered Craters of the Moon where I was intrigued by the countless dead trees standing proudly in the strange soil; I took enough dead tree pics to fill a coffee table photo book. Dave’s assessment of the farmland and extensive irrigation was accurate. Some of the farms and ranches in the verdant valley we passed through were well manicured and fenced; the ranch homes were large. Cattle dotted expansive green pastures and what looked like quarter horses grazed leisurely at each ranch. When we passed the Sheriff’s truck about 5 p.m. or so while heading for the Nevada state line, we were near our wit’s end...not having the slightest idea of where the nearest campground was nor where we might find am affordable motel. When I spotted the Sheriff’s badge on the truck we had just passed, Dave was reluctant to stop and ask for help. But I insisted and he acquiesced. I got out and walked back about 100 feet or so and saw the deputy watching this grizzled geezer with a very keen eye. I spewed forth our tale and after chatting for about 15 minutes or so and giving him our blog address (at his request), I returned to a relieved Dave and we drove to our trip’s final near-empty campground on the shore of the Bruneau arm of the C. J. Strike Reservoir. It was located several desolate miles south of the small town of Bruneau (near the intersection of state highways 78 and 51/725. Dave says we passed within three miles of Bruneau Dunes State Park, which is not on our map so we failed to visit it. The C. J. Strike Reservoir is like the winding Snake River which was dammed to create the reservoir with about eight arms of various sizes all connected by narrow channels. We noted crossing the Snake at least a dozen times during our earlier journey. We took some spectacular photos as the sun was setting beyond the reservoir through a bank of brightly illuminated clouds. We also heard and saw some Air Force planes zooming overhead; Dave speculated there was an airfield nearby. After supper and as our evening campfire was fading into glowing embers, we retired to our tent. The stars were out in their full glory but we could see the luminescence of Boise’s bright lights in the night sky. -- LL

Roger
Great travelogue. I really am in awe, first that you're doing this trip of a life time together but that you figured out how to blog, too. What a great friendship! Thanks for sharing.

Harmony
Me again. Not the Grand Canyon we met at the Black Canyon in Gunnison, CO. I enjoyed reading your blog! Have Fun!!

Harmony Neuschwanger
Hi Larry and Dave, It's Harmony from the Grand Canyon. Hope you are having a great trip and Happy Birthday Larry! We had a great time too! Best Wishes

8/12/2010 – The Last Leg
We emerged from the tent on the shore of C. J. Strike Reservoir in Idaho as the sun was rising. I could see mist rising from the water and called Larry's attention to it as I hurriedly grabbed my camera. The water, mist and rising sun created an inspiring sight so we ran around the shore, and a dock that was there, taking photos. I didn't fall! I was ecstatic. We quickly broke camp and hit the road. I knew that there was probably no place to eat before Elko and that turned out to be true, and we found the cheapest breakfast at a casino there. It was only 10 a.m. and I knew we could be home by the end of the day. I had chosen a route, from a map and Google Earth, that took us over the Ruby Mountains to Ruby Lake. I had no idea that it was mostly a dirt road. Had I known that, I would have taken another route. The problem was, it was paved for miles before it suddenly changed to dirt. Ruby Lake turned out to be mostly wetland in a desert valley with no trees. I drove on, looking for the road to become paved. It finally did, but it was at least thirty miles later, and after another twenty miles or so, for no reason at all, it became a dirt road again. It was over eighty miles of paved-dirt-paved-dirt road that we traveled. I was ecstatic when I found Highway 50. We got a bite to eat in Ely and had a pleasant drive from there down through a long valley full of farms and a couple of lakes. We were singing Barbershop Polecats to my MP3 playing the bass learning tracks, Larry on tenor and myself on baritone. We arrived at a construction site and stopped at a flagman to wait for a pilot car through a one-way section. I was the first in line and we rolled down our windows still singing. The flagman was impressed, and amused. He looked in at us and told us we looked like a couple of prospectors returning from a long trip! We went through all twelve Polecats before the pilot car got there and we were able to move on. We eventually reached Interstate 15 and soon saw the lights of Vegas. It was good to get home. – DK

We closed down our final campsite early this morning in record time and headed for Idaho State Highway 51/225 and the Nevada state line. The excitement of visiting new sites had diminished since leaving Craters of the Moon National Monument; we sensed then that we’d seen just about all there was to see and vistas were becoming desert-like as we neared Nevada. We hit Elko and decided to take the most direct route back home via Routes 228 through Toyabe National Forest and the Ruby Mountains and 7,200-foot Harrison Pass. We crossed the Pony Express National Historic Trail and continued south on State Route 3 – one of the longest and most desolate roads either of us had ever been on. The constant switching between dirt and paved drove Dave nuts! By this time his reliable Toyata Fit was covered with grime; he could hardly see out the rear window. Dave drove the entire way from our last campsite to his home. At the north tip of the Humboldt-Toyabe National Forest, we linked up to various state roads until reaching Ely, where we took 318 south to 93, I-15 and Las Vegas. The Great Geezer Getaway is history! We’ve been gone for nearly three weeks, driven 3,700+ miles and seen the heartland of the Great American West up close and personal. We visited seven states: Utah, Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota, Montana and Idaho.* * *Dave deserves full credit for designing our much heralded blog site and overseeing its updating/posting (when we found a wi-fi site). In addition to being a wonderful traveling companion, he quickly became the blog-master; setting up time-line procedures for the writing of frequent postings by each of us...from which we often wavered. We edited the other’s daily comments (I think Dave had the worse job in curtailing my enthusiastic verbosity). We selected the final photos together from pictures we both took...and there were upwards of 1,000 snapped by each of us along the way. In recollection, I’d say we could have planned our adventure a little more thoroughly. Keeping the two coolers filled with ice sometimes became of critical concern. Although our entire route used AAA maps (color highlighted by both Dave and me) we failed to clearly pre-select areas where campsites would be available or occasional motels to shower, sleep in a bed, and gain wi-fi access to the Internet. The campgrounds we did use were outstanding, especially those operated by the National Forest Service. We had no day-to-day timetable, choosing instead to meander along our route visiting the many attractions this Great Country has to offer. Being close friends helps, too, as agreement in making en-route decisions is critical. We were in continuous conversation with nary a conflict. A carefully budgeted trip like this is something anyone can do with forethought and perhaps more detailed planning than we invested in the project. The Great Geezer Getaway, from my perspective, was a huge success; and despite warnings of some naysayers, Dave and I are still pals...talking and laughing as before. Life is good! (Our deepest thanks to Gamble-Aires bass Ross Marty for generously contributing our tent, sleeping bags/air mattresses and other “survival” paraphernalia!) -- LL

Ross
Sounds like you both are having loads of fun, I love camping in the west as you know, with all the great outdoors, and you never know what Mother Nature is going to throw at you next. Keep safe, I cannot wait untill your next blog, not to mention hearing all your great adventures in person when you get back.

CC & Peck
Happy Birthday, Larry! We'll celebrate at barbershop when you return (& only share cake with those who read about it here! HAHA!) Your descriptions continue to amaze us; thank you so much for taking the time to write. I now have friends in NM, PA, and OH that are reading along. Ceci is heading home (PA) to babysit for 3 weeks but will continue to monitor your antics online.

Gayle
Hi Dave...It's Gayle..All I have to say is....WOW !! I love reading the blogs and cant wait to see you and meet Larry.....and hear all about it. See you soon....

Karen
Happy Birthday Larry. Nice that you are celebrating it during your great adventure. Thanks for keeping my shy brother in line. I too probably would not have passed the no tresspassing sign or stopped at the highway patrol. If I embark on an adventure, I'll be sure to find a companion with at least enough boldness to do the sensible thing! You guys have seen some really fantastic places. Your blog is the first thing I check each morning when I turn on my computer. I am really looking forward to seeeing all the pictures when you return.

Karen
Welcome home! You entertained us all with the stories of your trip.

George and Betty Over
We just got home from our trip to Europe and see that you are home after a great time camping and sightseeing through the west. Rain was almost a constant companion for you guys! Good blog, good pictures. Thanks for including us on your tour. Happy Trails, George and Betty

ryder
the picture of the sunrise over the misty lake is beautiful!

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