Erik Stays Too Long (not by choice)

Yes, indeed we made it to Jackson Hole, Wyoming to spend some time in the old Murie family haunts of the Teton Mountain Range. We stayed two nights in the Gros Ventre campground, a huge national park campground with 300 sites and a dump station, which is handy when the shitter is full Clark, which it was. I spent an hour or so having a happy hour beer with Bob next door in camp site 117. Bob was a heavy equipment operator from the oil fields of Alaska. He had a stroke in 2003 and was spending his time bach'in it in an Ambulance that had been converted to an R.V. He was a handy dude with an intolerance for children and too much hustle and bustle. He left early the next morning for a more remote campground near Dubois. Gros Ventre is pronounced Grow-Vont and Dubois is pronounced Dew-boys. You can use hack French when your a cowboy or a redneck from Arkansas, but only some of the time apparently.

The next day we had to be at the Jackson Hole airport at 12:09 p.m. to pick up Mr. Erik Shollmier. I have known the freak for several years now and I still am not confident of the spelling of his last name. Erik is a good friend, he is always in a chipper mood, much like my wife. We took a quick tour of String, Leigh and Jenny lakes in the Teton Park along with a short hike. We figured a three mile hike earned us pizza at Mountain High Pizza Pie in Jackson. After stuffing ourselves we went back to camp where we introduced Erik to his bunk bed in the front of the R.V. The next day we trucked over the steep Teton Pass to Grand Targhee Resort on the Idaho side of the Teton Range. We were introduced to our camp site by Mark, a very friendly local working the event gates for the three day bluegrass festival. We ended up with a primo spot that overlooked the tent campers and was next to the water,bathrooms and had a wonderful view of the mountains. We were able to crank out the awning and set up a greeting station for passers by. This greeting station was manned mostly by Erik who welcomed people with a fine, Southern "what's happenin' " or "it's all good in the neigborhood brutha!" depending on how much alchohol had been consumed. Kim tried to kill me and my buddy by taking us on a 3 mile hike straight up about 1600 feet or so. Erik was a good sport, but I did notice he declined the next offers for hikes. Lots of good music, food and libations for the next couple of days with a grand finale of Robert Earl Keen and grilled steaks.

We went back over the pass after the festival and found a nice camp site 5 miles up the Gros Ventre river. It was right on the lake and quiet. We had a nice evening and retired early, so Erik could get his rest for the next day's flight home. We dropped Erik off at the airport at 11:30 to catch his flight and headed to the Snake River Canyon so I could kayak. At 12:30 we got a call from Erik, "guess what? The ticket you got me is for next Tuesday!" Whoops! We turned back around and picked Erik up again. He was in good humor about my stupid mistake. I guess that's why I'm a heat 'n air guy and not a travel agent. We took Erik to the Snake River and rafted it in a small, non self-bailing raft. It was fun and uneventful. The Snake River is big and swift, but not too technical. We did avoid going through the Big Kahuna at the urging of Kim, probably for the best. We would have either swam or had a bathtub for a vessel.

We were obliged to have more pizza and beer at Mountain High to help Erik over his trauma.

The next day Erik got off to Arkansas and we headed up the mountain for a 10 mile hike to Amphitheater Lake. We spent Thursday in Yellowstone and packed up our nice camp the next day. Off we go to Boise, Idaho to see our good friends Stasia and Sarah. Later.

James and Kim