Eastbound and Down- Wyoming

The van was three months old when we left, and had 3, 635 miles on it. It is a comfortable vehicle to drive (except that it is a huge wind sail and doesn't weigh much, in spite of its substantial cargo, so at speeds above 70 you can suddenly find yourself changing lanes without a signal when you get a howling crosswind). I had wanted to bring a Suburban, which has a much more substantial chassis and far superior ground clearance, but not nearly the room inside. Connie said no way, and she was right. First of all, all of our junk would not have fit in a Suburban. But more importantly, the Suburban would not have provided the halo of personal space around each minor passenger necessary to establish and maintain the peace. Put differently, if you measure the length of

each child's arm, extended laterally toward his sibling passenger, he or she should not be able to reach his neighbor's head or deltoid muscle with a jab. We are riding in a 2-2-2 formation and there is no question that that this separation has resulted in a peaceful journey.

However, the van does have its shortcomings. It has the ground clearance of a Mexican Low Rider. It is a conversion van, so it has all these running boards and farings and such that are not heavy duty truck rated. Tires, not exactly monster truck material. And I knew we would be beating the dog out of whatever truck we took. It is being driven at high speeds 10 hours a day down rough roads, through dust storms, in 108 degree heat, it is loaded to the gills, and it is starting to show.

The first sign was in Bozeman, MT. We had lunch in a little tapas place in town. When I came out from lunch, there was an eight inch crack extending across the windshield midway from the left edge. No sign of an impact - could be a stress crack. I don't know. We subsequently took a 30 mile long gravel and dirt road from Bozeman down to US 89 which cut a significant corner off of what we would have had to do by going down the interstate further east to Livingston and then down 89. And the scenery is spectacular; no one on this road, which parallels the Yellowstone River in places. However, it is like putting the van in a paint shaker. The potholes, washouts, and ridges cut into the road by the wind put the van to the test.

When we arrive at the Elephant Head Lodge in Wapiti, Wyoming, our son Neil slides under the front for an inspection. He reports that one of the foglamp brackets is broken, said foglamp now only illuminating groundfog in the most literal sense,and that two bolts formerly supporting the front bumper are missing. The tires are not likely to reach their planned useful life, as they have some chunks missing. But we are still rolling. This GM -made Chevy van is still under warranty in all respects so I hope President Obama has earmarked some bailout money for Government Motors for warranty calls. We will first have to remove the entomological museum from the radiator, which would provide damning clues as to where this truck has been.

The Elephant Head is great. 13 log cabins, built by Buffalo Bill Cody's neice. It is called Elephant Head because of a rock formation looming 1000 feet above it which looks a lot like one. We have a big cabin, which is still small. Great setting. No cell phone coverage, no internet signals, no TV, no radio, no newspaper. There is a "courtesy phone" in a metal box on the side of the cabin that is the office and bar. I open it to call the offcie on my second day; it is a rotary phone. It works. I forgot how long it takes to dial someone's number literally. Connie doesn't like all this isolation. This is what I hope Heaven is like.

The staff is great- young people who were carefully hired for their enthusiasm and apparently, their good (wholesome) looks. But they are not worldly. One night a very pretty young woman from Tennessee is waiting on us and asks me if I can show her how to use the corkscrew to open the wine Connie ordered. I guess not too many wine drinkers up here. I show her how this device works. The next day she is waiting on us for breakfast; by now she knows the whole road trip story and all the places we have been, and we know she is from just outside Chattanooga. She asks me what is my favorite region of the country. I answer, truthfully, The South. She is pleased to hear this and now wants to know which state is my favorite. I look at her carefully and then say " I am partial to Tennessee", which was also truthful, as of just after she asked the question. She says "Me too!" It is an amazing coincidence. She then adds, "I am just so glad you didn't say Texas". There was almost no chance of that unless she had been from there. I don't remember her name, in part because Connie supervises these blogs.

The Codys left their stamp on Wyoming, but none of them was ever a basketball player, I am sure of it. The cabins are well-built but the tallest door head, and they are all different heights, tis 5'-10". When I get up in the middle of the night to visit the bathroom, as middle aged men are required to do, I first encounter the bedroom door head at 10 mph- Kaboom! I duck under the bathroom door head, still seeing stars, but when I pivot to leave, Kablam! 2 inches lower on the brow. The rest of the family passes under these obstacles unscathed so they find the collisions very funny. I think it is called Elephant Head because that is what my head will look like by the time I leave.

Our cabin neighbors to the south are Frank and Nina. Frank worked as scholarship director for Holy Cross College in Worcester, MA for 28 years, retiring 11 years ago. He lived in Boston forever but now has opted for the good life in San Diego. We met them because Fiona wanted to pet their dog and now we have had long conversations at two meals with them. I ask Frank, a big white- haired Irishman, if he remembers my friend Dave Mulquin, who played basketball for Holy Cross from around "77-'81. He does. He says what is he doing now. I say he is my attorney. Frank says " He is an ATTORNEY now??"

If Dave is reading this post, to be fair, those caps above and the extra question mark are what attorneys call "Emphasis Added".