Sorry for the delay, folks, but we encountered a series of problems.  First, wi-fi access is limited in the old west due to buffalo wrecking the internet tubes.  Second, and more importantly, my laptop is on the fritz.  All I know at this point is there are no longer wires connected to my start button.  I'll do my best...



For Day 5, we stayed in Cody, WY as something of an "off-day" from driving.  Just because no driving occured, however, does not mean we slacked off.  Rather, we booked a white water rafting trip in the morning.  The Shoshone River - which translates to "stinky water" - is a dam fed river that runs through Cody, making it perfect for our purposes.  Here are the major happenings from the rafting trip:


1. We booked a 4 hour trip about a month ago.  Unfortunately, Wyoming had a very, very mild winter that produced little snowfall.  Consequently, the trip we booked wasn't running because they didn't have enough water.  A 2 hour trip was available, however, which actually may have worked out better in our case. 


2. I also made my first mistake (honest) of the trip here when I mixed up the days.  I booked for the 20th, not the 19th.  Fortunately they could take us that day, so no harm no foul.


3. The low water made for some pretty weak rapids.  Most just gently rolled the boat.  A few did get us wet, which was very refreshing actually.  The air temp was probably 80, and the sun made it even hotter.  The 48 degree water actually felt good. 


4. Each boat was assigned a guide.  Ours was "Wes," a college kid majoring in cellular biology from the Cody area.  Wes honestly made the trip for us.  He was a fount of information on Cody, rafting, and life in general.  Here are some things we learned from Wes:

A.    Russian olive trees are invasive in Wyoming.  They are bulldozed by the thousands every year because they choke the life out of things.  All this in spite of the fact that the fruit of the Russian olive is unique in that it tastes like vodka and is excellent mixed with khalua and cream.* 

B.     Wes chose his school – Montana State – because it has the best skiing in the area.  There are certainly worse reasons to pick a school, but I immediately pegged him as a joke major (like political science).  Wrong.  Cellular biology/pre-med.  Lesson learned.

C.     Our trip had two rafts of people.  We were paired with a family from Texas, mother, father, two younger daughters.  During our trip we talked a great deal about traveling and what to do at certain locations.  Every time I asked about certain things – nightlife in Cody, the music scene in Nashville – the father, who really was a very nice guy, just said “kids…”  They were not enthused about getting wet, which seems odd for a rafting trip.  We were hot, however, and egged Wes on to hit the rapids (which were very tame) hard.  Fat people always win in rafting trips. 

D.    Our group has rafted before on the Ohiopyle in Pennsylvania.  Wes asked us about our previous trip and we told him about the time we took our five-person raft through a key hole rapid meant only for kayaks.  Long story short, it involved the raft folding in half.  Not a man was lost in this maneuver.  Fat people always win in rafting.  Anyway, Wes’s comment was “Wow, I can’t believe your guide let you do that!”  Our reply was “We didn’t have a guide.”  Wes, appalled and almost visibly offended, gasped “What?!  We would never do that!  How did not you die?”  Good to know we defied death on the Ohiopyle.


*I made this up, but it sounds plausible. 

After freshening up after rafting, we grabbed some lunch at the Proud Cut Saloon.  The meal was pedestrian, except for the Rocky Mountain Oysters (RMOs).  I watch a lot of Chopped on Food Network, which has clued me in to exotic items like Hicama, Deckle of Beef, and RMOs.  For those behind on their Chopped, RMOs are bull testicles.  Big, beefy bull testicles.  Being a summer of new experiences, we ordered a set.  They come thinly sliced and deep fried.  Here are our thoughts:

1.       Kati – “Tastes like everything else deep fried.”

2.       Josh – “Overcooked chicken.  Chewy.  Not again.”

3.       Matt – “Best testicles I’ve ever had.” 

4.       Becky and Chunk don’t have the balls to eat balls. 

 

That look isn't Kati disapproving of RMOs, she disapproves of Matt eating fried food



We divided forces after lunch with the womenfolk shopping and menfolk going to the Buffalo Bill Museum (BBM).  My Dad tipped us off about the gun collection at the BBM, but nothing prepared us for the onslaught of second amendment rights.  The collection is massive and includes virtually every firearm imaginable.  Over 2,700 guns are on display.  We plowed through 1,200 before we had to go see other exhibits with our time.  The amazing thing is the 2,700 is only one-third of the total guns they have.  They also have wings of the museum dedicated to Native Peoples, Buffalo Bill, and art, which were swell.

Gold trimmed, because why not

Teddy Roosevelt's big stick

Presented to Reagan for not being Jimmy Carter

Cody day was also food day, apparently, as we had an excellent meal at the Wyoming Rib and Chop House.  Speaking personally, it was one of the best meals I’ve ever had.  Chunk and I ordered the Tomahawk steak to share, which contrary to your first impression, is totally not gay (in a completely, non-heteronormative use of the term).  Its 44 oz of bone-in ribeye.  The kicker is the bone is basically the cow’s rib (see associated picture).  I’m surprised it didn’t have the Rocky Mountain Oysters attached.  It redefined beef for me, and we left satisfied men.

Chunk calls it "The Raptor Cut"

We took turns gnawing on the bone



"FINISH HIM!"



Last event of the day was the rodeo.  It was literally our first rodeo.  Events consisted of bronco riding, calf roping, barrel racing, bull riding, and miscellaneous novelty acts.  The spectacle was pretty enjoyable, but two items stick out.  First, one of the bulls score a hit on a rodeo clown-type helper.  Before I continue, he was fine and continued to work after this takes place, so do not pity they guy who steps in front of the bull literally begging to be gored.  One of the riders was bucked off five seconds or so in.  They had some trouble corralling him, so one of the clowns took the initiative to anger the bull into running after him towards the gate.  Surprisingly, the bull was both angry and fast.  It’s almost like he was bred and trained to be ornery.  He closed in on the clown and caught him by the seat of the pants, flipping him a solid fifteen feet in the air.  Not satisfied, the bull hit ‘em again, scoring combo points for another hit.  Disappointed the clown was still moving, the bull landed a third blow weaker than the first two.  At this point he had his fill and sauntered off.  The clown hopped up and went on his way, so all is well that ends well.

PETA still approves of kid wrangling, fortunately

Second, intermission featured a kids' event.  All kids 10 and under were invited to the ring.  They then turned loose three calfs with flags on their tales.  The kids then ran after the calfs and tried to grab the flags.  All the flags were gone in the first 10 seconds, but the kids chased the calfs for a good minute before they were corralled. 



Bronco - 1, Silly Human - 0



Finally, the chief rodeo clown – who I will refer to as the “racist rodeo clown” or RRC – oscillated between off-color humor and benign slapstick.  I call him racist because, well, he nailed everyone – Asians, African-Americans, Muslims, and Latinos.  You’ll be shocked – SHOCKED – to know he lobbied against Obama during the rodeo.  I have little doubt his endorsement will lock up the election for Romney.  He had two gems, both occurring during the youth (5-12 year old) bull riding competition.  First, a kid was bucked off and visibly upset, to which the clown stated “He’s not upset because he was bucked off, he’s upset he drop his Copenhagen.”  This is probably more sad truth than funny commentary.  Second, one of the kids got in the chute but bailed before the ride.  The RRC commented “He’s come down with a stomach problem…no guts.”  It takes a brave dude to harass a seven year old kid for not wanting to ride a half-ton bull.  That said, we laughed hard.



Up Next: Beartooth Pass, the Other Grand Canyon, and Lamar Valley.

Random Stats:

Hours Driven: 43

Ounces of per capita Meat consumed: 25

Rapids encountered: 0

Angry Bulls: 15

Quote of the day:

“I can’t wait for my testicles!”

– Matt at lunch