Wyoming country

With just four days left before my flight back to Europe, I felt the need for a grand finale - something which would combine an epic drive with a grand finale. Leaving Yellowstone behind, the southward John D. Rockefeller Highway provided instant gratification as the Toyota glided past the snowcaps of Grand Teton National Park on the right and bison pastures on the left.  

 Stopping at Jackon Hole for the night, I ordered bison steak for dinner at a restaurant famous for this sort of fare, mainly out of curiosity. While they're alive, these are tough animals able to endure the harshest winter conditions. Served on a plate, they become five times tougher. By the time you have negotiated the first two mouthfuls, the rest has pretty much gone cold. On the table next to mine, there was an Englishman who was audibly from the home counties - alone, mildly insane, cordial with the staff, and talking to himself. Although i didn't enjoy the dinner, I did enjoy his company. From what I could decode, he had been living there for well over a decade (therefore avoiding the bison and opting for a conventional sirloin) and hadn't left because he was still waiting for his children to visit him. I'm always amazed at these kinds of encounters. Complete and utter misfits showing up in places where they shouldn't, logically, belong.  With a convivial 'tally-ho' I returned to the motel and fell into a well-earned coma.

A very early start meant that, by mid-morning, the rocks and pines of Yellowstone/Teton gave way to greener pastures. Lovely countryside, this, and barely a car on the road until you reach the point where you have to decide whether you want to veer eastward for some mountain driving in Colorado, or west into Utah.This is a small town called Alpine, where I procrastinated with the decision longer by stopping for a lunch.

Colorado or Utah? Looking at some of the distant mountains to the east, Colorado was certainly tempting for all the alpine driving it promised. On the other hand, the trip to Utah would entail almost a full day's worth of motorway driving. Nevertheless, I was eager to prove to myself that I was able to make a plan and stick to it. The drive was indeed a slog and it wasn't until dusk that I had eventually by-passed the heavy traffic of Salt Lake City, then turned east at the designated intersection. A late sunset revealed a glimpse of what was to come before exhaustion and the thirst for a hard-earned beer compelled me to stop at the junction town of Green River.