Beartooth Highway. . .

We drove through the Lamar Valley on our way to the northeast entrance/exit of Yellowstone. My friend Cindy had recommended Beartooth Highway as a scenic drive to their home. We saw several more herds of bison. I am always in awe when I see this animal! 

Beartooth Highway was once called "the most beautiful drive in America" by the late Charles Kuralt. (Side note: I still remember his face from the evening news segments he did with Walter Cronkite when I was a kid!)

Due to some construction, we were stopped for about fifteen minutes on the road. Kevin and Emma went for a walk while Adri napped. The air was so fresh and pure where we were. There was a significant drop in temperature from where we had been to where we were stopped. The water in the lakes was a brilliant blue.

As we neared the summit, the views became more amazing.

We made a short stop at the summit. This is a "Where's Waldo" picture. See if you can find my rock-climbing husband below! We also saw countless bikers along the road. Sturgis was about to begin in South Dakota, so everywhere we went, we saw bikers flocking toward the huge bike rally.

Right when we made the stop, I ran up the rocks to get a good picture. An older couple was sitting still, enjoying the view when the woman gestured to me to be quiet and look down. I would have missed the mountain goat and her kid had I not looked down.

The kid had already turned the corner and I was so hoping they'd come back, but they didn't. As I climbed down after them, I found a tuft of goat wool that had snagged on a rock. I stuffed it in my pocket and gave it to Emma as a souvenir. I've never seen a kid so happy to have goat hair!

The summit. . .

This is the only picture I have from the descent. Apparently, I have some weird issue that makes me want to vomit while driving down a mountain. It could be the fact that I could literally see a half a mile straight down while looking out my passenger-side window. The steep zig-zags made me want to cry. Later, as I was talking to a sister, I realized the fear goes back to my childhood. When we were little, my parents had a twelve-passenger Ford van. My dad would often take us on trips to the Rocky Mountains, probably because it was free to drive through the mountains and it was relatively close to where I grew up! I mean, who wants to pay for 15 kids to go on vacation? Anyway, I clearly remember riding in the van while he was driving up the switchbacks to Pike's Peak. For whatever reason, my dad decided to turn around! Being the stubborn man he can be, he didn't wait to find a "good place" to turn around. No, he did it on the edge of a cliff. I must have been in the very back of the van, because I'm sure I looked out the back window and didn't see any earth below me. I still shudder when I think of that moment. Driving down Beartooth Highway brought back that fear! I ended up looking back at Emma and Adri or putting my head in the console area of the van. I felt as if the abyss was trying to pull my side of the van downward. My husband is an excellent driver and he really enjoyed the highway. I think he even enjoyed giving me a hard time for my nauseousness!

The drive down really was beautiful. . . at least the part I saw:) I was happy to make it to more "solid" ground and I even took over driving after that. We finally made it to Richey, Montana, home to some of the most amazing people I've ever known. . . the Sponheims!!