A "ghost house" on the way to Moose Meadows. No moose, no ghosts.
Epic landscapes in the Cabinets. What a great and underappreciated range of mountains.
We drove to Portland, where a car was waiting for us.
A last-minute trip to the coast. It brings back a lot of memories from my trips there as a kid. I wonder what Cooper will remember. (Click on this photo to open it.)
Incredible secret beach.
Trail leading to another.
Old growth forest -- where I learned that "old growth" just means it hasn't been cut in 200 years. That's lame.
Killing it on the Great Divide.
Killing it in the Prius.
Killing it in the Extreme Buick.
Just your basic average every day Labor Day Weekend snowstorm.
Dedicated wine glasses are for glampers.
The Hour of Magical Light along the Madison.
Took a two-day 150-mile mountain bike ride from Elk Lakes Provincial Park to Banff and back. It's not a super-tough endeavor, but there's one caveat: the six-mile stretch of trail between Elk Lakes and Kananaskis Country Provincial Park circumvents a 200-mile drive, meaning if something goes wrong, you can't just stick out your thumb and get a lift home.
Pretty country, though.
Somehow I got my mileage count off and the first day was 20 miles longer than I had planned. I would have stopped and camped at Spray Lake (the camp host flagged me down, actually, and offered moose sausage) but I had already spent a considerable sum to reserve a spot in Banff. Banff, as expected, was a tangle of tourists and outrageously-priced restaurants. I fell asleep to whistling wind and woke to the cute pitter patter of what I hoped were pine needles hitting the tent. It wasn't. By the time I was packed up and downtown it was pouring rain and 43 degrees. I got wifi from Starbucks and the radar showed showers extending as far west as Golden, so pedal in the rain it was. As a consolation, Mountain Hardware's $75 rain jacket really does work pretty well.
So a full day in the rain, with just enough dry breaks to take a few photos.
Yeah, it's fall for sure.