As the evening light faded into the night, the check-engine light from the dashboard grew brighter. We were so close to Grand Teton National Park. We pushed on, reassuring ourselves that it was only cheap gas.
The drive was like dropping down into a roller coaster. We were scared of the unexpected, but alive to the beauty and newness of it all. Each twist and turn offered something fresh. There were rock formations everywhere. Some deserved names like “Hairy Toes,” while others demanded our full attention.
Our eyes were relieved to finally see “Welcome to Jackson Hole, Wyoming.” Our bodies were trashed from the 25 hour drive, but our spirits were high. We ate Wendy’s and made home in a cheap motel room for the night.
The alarm clock beckoned us to begin our journey at 5am the next day. We packed up and drove thirty minutes to Schwabacher Landing. It was our first taste; like a big juicy bite into a ripened peach. The Tetons reflected off of the Snake River like glass. It was the reality of all the planning and dreaming we did in the months prior.
Everything was exciting. Each new location was like unwrapping a gift on Christmas morning. On our drive into Canyon Village we stopped at Yellowstone Lake, Mud Volcano, and Hayden Valley. We checked into the campsite, set up our tent, and headed to Tower Falls.
Tower Falls was impressive, but it was the fly fishing that reeled us in. We were fortunate enough to meet a family from Michigan carrying on the family tradition of fly fishing. The dad was teaching his daughter and son-in-law techniques passed down from generations ago. We were honored to be able to capture such a special and intimate moment.
We decided to hike the Chittedon Trail up to Mount Washburn next. After about an 45 minutes in, we crossed paths with some guys from California. They encouraged us by letting us know we had just passed the halfway mark. As we approached the 10,432 ft. peak it started to sleet. It was nasty. The fog was so thick towards the top we couldn’t see anything, so we decided to turn back. We backtracked to a location that was clear and took some pictures with the American Flag.
It was as if we hadn’t eaten in weeks. Our bodies were exhausted from the hike to the peak of Mount Washburn, but it was nothing a Bison Sloppy Joe couldn’t fix. Afterwards we took a LONG hot shower, started a fire, reflected on the day, and hit the sack.