This leg of the trip has truly shown us that we’re not cowboy enough for Montana and Wyoming. Chacos with socks and hiking pants obviously don’t jive with local fashion, so here’s to sticking out like a sore thumb.
We finally had the honor of experiencing the forever drenched feeling of being in the Pacific Northwest. Our tent has had so many close calls with drying out, only to have it downpour in the middle of the night. As amusing as it is to watch Evan’s frustration rise (the crazy eyes get real), he’s got nothing on me when I hit my wall. So, I guess you could say this part of the trip is where we broke.
Surprise! Our legs found more ski slopes this week, but skiing wasn’t the only time we were on the snow. Our three-season tent had the honor of experiencing season four. Likewise, Evan has made some new jumps: he adopted a giant slug and smashed our windshield with his mighty fist.
These past few days we’ve experienced extremes. Evan and I went from 282 feet below sea level all the way to 9,050 feet above sea level at the top of Squaw with our skis in tow.
We set out to see Gold Butte, but our Golf had finally found a road which it could not conquer. Luckily for us, we found some cool things in the middle of the desert while trying to hide our disappointment. For example, this lovely sign: