You had what on your pizza???

10/13/08

The difference between the east and west half of Wyoming is drastic. Upon entering the state along highway 18 from South Dakota, I was struck by the sheer scale of everything. The hills, while not very high, were long and rolling and the prairies stretched out like vast golden oceans. Nearly all of this land was ranch land. Even one ranch seem to continue for miles. While this might seem like one person hoarding land to some, I had recently learned that it takes 30 acres to support just one head of cattle. Otherwise the appetite of the cows wins out over the speed at which the grass grows and we end up with another dust bowl.

All this was quite impressive for a while, but after about 100 mile or so you begin to get the idea. Fortunately, the western half of the state is much more dynamic.

The changing scenery, was likely due to the fact that I had ascended around 3,000 feet since leaving South Dakota without realizing it.

As I approached the western half of the state, I found that the prospect of visiting Yellowstone became almost unbearable. Looking at the map, I decided that Moran looked like a good place to set up shop for the night and make my approach the next day.

At this point, the elevation began to climb steadily. The roads that were dry and freshly paved, became snow-covered as the sun began to set. Just a short while ago, at the time I took the above pictures, I was cruising at a steady 55 mph. Now, I found it to be too risky to go more than 25.

All of this peaked at Towgotee pass. As you can see by the picture below I was quite high.

To put the speed at which the conditions changed in perspective, the picture directly above was taken exactly 13min and 47 sec after the previous one.

When I arrived in Moran I was a bit dismayed to find that it was no more than a junction and not the town I hoped for.

Jackson was only a half hour away so I headed south.

Though the sun had set, there was still some light in the sky. The highway from Moran to Jackson runs right by the Tetons and lit only by the post-sunset light and the moon, they had a very mystical quality about them.

Upon landing in Jackson Hole, my priority was to find the nearest brewpub. If that still surprises you, then you must not have read this blog from it’s beginning, as breweries are one of this trip’s major themes. The Snake River Brewing Co. seemed like the obvious choice. I really don’t have much bad to say about the place. The staff was exceptionally friendly, the atmosphere was appropriate, and most importantly, the beer was good. They consistently take home medals from the WBC, and their Zonker Stout certainly deserves it’s acclaim.

As an added bonus, I showed a rare moment of weakness and sacrificed part of my trip budget to ordering some food. I had intended to stay strong, but the bartender wrenched my arm more than i could take (she asked if I wanted anything because the kitchen was about to close). I was hansomley rewarded, however, when I chowed down on my chorizo, peach, goat cheese, sage pizza. It’s on the menu. I couldn’t make that up if I tried.