And we drive...

August 18, 19 and part of the 20th.

Whew...we needed to make tracks in order to get from Northern Montana to Breckenridge, CO in time for the big Motorcycle conference so for three days, we drove 8-11 hours per day (nearly 1,400 miles!). That Towed got majorly towed. Along the way, we encountered the following fella in Yellowstone National Park:

We encountered this following fella in the back seat of our car (bug bitten, band-aided, wind burned, and bored shitake-less):

And we encountered heart-stoppingly, drive-off-the-road, stunning-ass scenery along the way.

That's Old Faithful at Yellowstone, and the Grand Tetons from our car window.

About 9 hours later, we pulled into Rawlins, WY (for you travel-neophytes - that's the home of Wyoming's largest state penitentiary, which was a convenient stone's throw from our kozy KOA Kampground) for a well-earned night's sleep.

But here is the lesson of the drive: FEAR the FLAGPERSON! We hit probably four flag people, all of whom cheerily pulled us aside, and made us sit for 45 minutes to an hour while the road workers took their lunch breaks, then eventually got back to the unpaving, pot-hole making, bone jarring road repairs that plagued us fo miles and miles. We were pulling the Towed through the most unbelivable situations when we were moving at all. The only good thing? We were dragging our own bathroom. Huge.