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Saturday, September 6

...if I never saw an eagle fly

It was nice to spend the night at a place where the art was not bolted to the wall. Kate's folks have a cozy Wyoming home and we slept like babies in the quietest, darkest night I've ever experienced.

We were getting close to the end of our road trip. There would be a quick deviation from the westward ho to see the Tetons. Another beautiful drive with unexpected locals providing photo ops..

A stop in Jackson Hole

for breakfast at Bubba's (the best in town according to a guy in a fishing store and they know)

Note to wildlife types who have antlers. Skip Jackson Hole. Just a hunch.

So, off to the Tetons, another glorious ride.

You almost get used to this stuff. Almost. And then Grand Teton National Park. Not too shabby.

But, Geez, enough of this purple mountains majesty stuff. Get me there. The dog is car sick, I have a kink in my neck. The only radio you can get is Country Western or radio preachers. But Idaho grabs you by the neck and says "Look! Stop yer whining" OK, Idaho. I hear ya.

A few hours and we would be in the fat part of Idaho. One more state to drive through. As if to bid us farewell, a visitor, flying, then posing. Thanks, big guy,

We check the maps, calculate mileage, decide we may try to make it to Oregon in one more ride. No stops. Russell will be doing all the driving. Mountain roads intimidate me, I am embarrassed to admit. But he says no problem, let's go for it. And we do.

Daybreak will bring us to the end of the road.

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