We said good-bye to Jim and David and hit the road at 9:30 under overcast skies but no rain. By the time we got to the Wyoming border it was raining hard and cold – 50 degrees and windy – so we weren’t too hopeful we would be able to see Devil’s Tower from a distance (we planned a side trip en route to Yellowstone). As we headed toward the famous monolith (remember Close Encounters of the Third Kind?), the clouds cleared away and we saw the tower from a distance of about 18 miles. As we got closer, Devil’s Tower got more impressive, rising 800 feet above the valley below where the Belle Forche River continues to slowly cut its way through the prairie.
We didn’t have time for a hike, but Vicki got another NP passport stamp and we walked around the base of the tower and took some pictures before heading back to the souvenir shop and restaurant at the entrance. Vicki and Joy made my day when they found stickers for the trailer – including one for Mt. Rushmore and the Black Hills! Finally, the sticker drought is over. We had lunch while the rain came down in sheets (the clouds returned), mixing with the crowd of bikers headed for Sturgis, and climbed back into the van for the long, long trip across Wyoming.
Everything I had ever read on RV boards online warned me that the van would not be able to handle a serious mountain pass. Because of lower air density, the engine loses 3% efficiency every 1000 feet above sea level (which means a 10,000 foot pass robs the engine of a third of its pulling capacity). Since crossing the wide Missouri River in South Dakota, we had been traveling at 4000 and 5000 feet, but we faced two 8500+ mountain passes on this leg of our journey – and I had been worrying about them virtually from the moment we conceived this summer odyssey. Vicki and I almost had to get out and push our little Honda Accord when we crossed the Rockies the summer of 1989 when we drove from San Diego to Rhode Island, and memories of that near miss gave me the shivers when I thought about the van tugging the trailer over a serious mountain.
Our first challenge was the Powder River Pass, at 9,666 feet above sea level. I had purchased a truckers guide to mountain passes in the west and decided on rerouting us to take this pass on Wyoming Route 16 instead of taking on two passes to the north (one of which was named “Oh My God Hill”). We got off I-90 for gas at a little town called Buffalo while the Bighorn Mountain Range loomed ominously above us. My first good omen was the sight of a mini van pulling a pop up at the gas station – they had just finished crossing the pass. If they could do it, then so could we.
The climbing started right away, 25 miles away from the pass. I played Boston for the crossing, while the van labored in second gear and the engine temp climbed to 70% - but held steady. The hills began to roll up and down, and as Boston played “Don’t Look Back” and “Longtime – Foreplay”, the crossing of the nearly 10,000 foot pass was almost anti-climatic – attended with high fives all around. Going down was also a challenge, but the second gear held us to a safe 40 mph and allowed us to slow to 25 for a couple of hairpin (hair-raising) turns without burning up the brakes as we gasped at the 350 million year old rock formations and peaks above us – and wished the RV’s growling toward the pass good luck.
By comparison, the second challenge – the 8,600 foot Sylvan Pass in Yellowstone NP – was almost a foregone conclusion. The bigger challenge was completing the long, long journey of 566 miles with a 2 hour side trip to Devil’s Tower, which we did as the sun set on Yellowstone.
We passed a rodeo in Cody at 8 pm, and spent the next 125 miles working our way up the mountains, into and through Yellowstone Park, which is far, far larger than any National Park we’ve ever seen. We drove over 80 miles from the East entrance to the South entrance of the park, watching the sun set and then winding our way through the darkness. After a very long day, we found our reservation and site number taped next to the “Full” sign at Flagg Ranch, and set up in the darkness at 11 pm. We climbed into our sleeping bags as the coyotes howled and the temperature dropped to 34.
We’re finally in Yellowstone. What an awesome day!
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