Day 5: Teddy Roosevelt National Park

Day 5, July 1. Due to a break in the time-space continuum, today's events are out of chronological order.

After so many hard days of driving, today we finally got the pay-off. This morning we went on a hike that even the most anti-hiking among us (cough, cough *Kieran*) thought was fantastic. It was the Petrified Forest hike on the western edge of TRNP, 3 miles out and 3 miles back, through the most incredible grasslands, rolling hills, and – wait for it – the many, many beautiful petrified trees that are the prime attraction on this hike. And the wildflowers. Oh! The wildflowers.

You may have heard that it's been a bit stormy out here. It has, including rain for most of the night. What that means is that the soil here, this peculiar soil that is unlike anything you see back in the scenic finger lakes region, turns into a sliding stream of wet potter's clay. You could absolutely make a nice terra cotta vase and/or make out with the ghost of Patrick Swayze with this clay. The first ½ mile of the hike was 3 steps forward, 2 steps back, but eventually we made it uphill to the plateau and the amazing views. We stopped for lunch at the spot we had decided to turn around, and were rewarded with a visit from some new friends... three bison that had been grazing nearby, but thought they would begin to make their way toward the trail we needed to return on. So we hoofed it out of there (see what I did there?) as quick as we could. The amazing thing... We had been dreading the return because the only thing worse than going uphill on a slippery slope is going downhill on it. But, even though the rain had stopped, the wind had not. And we would gladly take hiking in sustained winds over driving in sustained winds; but the constant gale had actually dried out all of the muck before we got back to it.

So, how did Liz and I begin the day? We decided, since NPS said we should be sure to have a “high-clearance vehicle” and we would be traversing “rugged terrain” on our way to the trailhead, to remove the kayaks from the top of the truck. So, we walked calmly to the truck, unlocked and disengaged the Hullavators, and tipped the kayaks down from the truck. Now, if you've been paying attention, you are already laughing out loud. If not, please refer to paragraph 1, “rain for most of the night.” Somehow we missed that it had poured rain overnight, and there was easily five gallons of frigid rainwater sitting on the boats. Which we started our day by dumping completely on our heads.

The after-dinner evening had Mom and Dad taking a lovely walk with Kieran while I did laundry (Agh! See below!) and Liz made Banana Boats on the grill with Gabe and Izzie. Shout out to Aunt Melissa!

Tomorrow! The Gowfolk plan to kayak the Little Missouri River. It should be amazing. Mom and Dad are supposed to pick us up at a designated point. If they decide they like the peace and quiet, my next post may be in about a week, from British Columbia.

And now for the afternoon... After getting back to camp, Dad took a full hour getting the mud out of his boot treads. Liz and Mom did laundry. I want desperately to say “because that's women's work,” but I want to see tomorrow. The children read and rested and I went on a nearly epic bike ride on the Maah Da Hey Trail. I don't use “epic” lightly. The Maah Da Hey has been designated “Epic” by the International Mountain Bike Association. As a shout-out to my biking bro's Pete and Joe: I'm not saying I can't ride all 96 miles of this trail. I'm just saying that when I'm in this current condition, riding in the car for 4 days, hiked three miles before riding, nope. So here is an interesting thing: This trail is multi-use. Bikes and hikes and horses all living in perfect harmony. And the whole trail was uphill on the out. And I was so looking forward to the return and the downhill. And I got this fancy new thing for my bike that shows me how fast I am going and how far I've gone and I am blazing, BLAZING down this trail and I look down for just an instant... 21miles per hour. Yes. I am speed. I am the wind. I am awesome. I look back up. Horse shit. Nail it. Right in the juiciest bit of it. Do you know what happens when you hit horse shit with your bicycle at 21 miles per hour? You ride back home and invest in a nice set of fenders. That's what you do.