This is a Knife

On the 8th day, we showered.
It takes 12 pegs to secure seven black curtains within a converted Ford transit van named Big Bird.

   Leaving Yellowstone, we made our way South towards Moran and found a small free campsite beside Hatchet Resort on the 287. A fantastic dinner with drinks at the Grill House, we caught up with events back home and a wedding in China. When we returned to our campsite, sadly we had lost our mobile coverage, so made a late night, 11:30pm drive back to the Resort carpark and sat out the front, stealing wifi and seeing a wedding live.
   Which we loved, but it made us horribly tired and a little frustrated with the mobile coverage in the States.
The following day, we tried to recount how long it had been since our last shower. We had to go all the way back to Ainsworth Hot Springs in Canada. That surprised us a little, but definitely accounted for some of the strange smells and odd looks we were giving strangers. So we sought out a grocery resupply and showers. Fortunately we found both in Dubois.
   Deciding on a diner for lunch, it was amusing to overhear friendly conversations between friends. A lot of chatter, possibly due to the timing of the seasons, revolved around hunting animals. Families were describing a kill they made, or a type of rifle they used. Some friends were discussing a particularly difficult and gruesome death for a large Elk that did not want to die. As other customers came in, the greeting was all, "Hiya friend, how is the hunting going?" It definitely seemed like their way of life.

   That afternoon, we made it to a small conservation camp site South of Dubois at Torrey Lake, though we stayed alongside Trail Lake. We enjoyed a relaxing afternoon of washing clothes and snoozing. The next day after buck wheat pancakes, we made a short one hour hike three quarters up a peak near where we camped. This involved a lot of scrambling and scrub walking as we lost the animal trails numerous times. We enjoyed the view and found the descent much harder. Both of us ignoring the other and choosing our own path down.
   As we made our way out of the camp site and further South East, we stopped at a nearby rest area. Another vehicle and horse float pulled in behind us. We were gathering some potable water when the epitome of an aged cowboy staggers up to ask, "You wouldn't happen to have seen a black angus bull around here have you?"
   We advise we didnt stay here the night, nor have we seen a bull while we have been here.
"Dang it, we lost him last night and haven't been able to find him." He tells us, then wishes us well and off he went. This provided some enjoyment for Ian while Jamie drove, he kept staring out the window in search of an AWOL black angus bull. Not that he had any method to advise the poor owner if he found it.

   A brief stop in Lander and we both remarked at how many resident's carried hip holster knives. These weren't small pocket knives either. We're talking about Crocodile Dundee kind of stuff. Maybe they do a lot of potato peeling.
   Further South and we made our way through Rawlins. The landscape along that stretch of road was simply divine. We couldn't count how many times we've crossed the Dividing Range it has been that many. There were times when it felt like we could touch the clouds while Jamie could not stop saying, 'Now that is rock bedding!' The dramatic change from Yellowstone down to South Wyoming has been a privilege to experience.
   Listening to the local radio, we pick up on a fire report near some potential camping spots we had considered. There seemed to be a grassland fire at the West base of Medicine Bow National Forest. So we alter plans and instead hammer in pegs beside a small lake at Saratoga. Our plan is to slowly venture our way South into Colorado, skirting the West side of the mountain range then cutting in towards  Monument Valley and then Grand Canyon.
   We have a little over four weeks remaining with our Big Bird, we've changed back into shorts and shirts and we believe we are the first to have invented a new word, 'Nagivating'. It doesn't matter who is driving or who is navigating, we feel nagivating better describes what takes place when attempting to communicate a new course.