along the Targhee

The light from the morning sunrise was only beginning as I leave Jackson Hole to drive home. The whiskers on my face have grown long and wild, my scent strong from lack of a shower.

I leave a Mountain Man of the Old West, perched upon a stone overlooking the grand splendor before me.

The trees are on fire with color as the sun lights up the autumn leaves. Clouds that were nestled against the mighty Snake river overnight are now breaking free and rising to the sky as morning comes.

I put rubber to the road and zoom through the magical forest.

Halfway down the canyon an area opens up where one can sit and search for wildlife. Bear, moose and elk come down to the Snake to drink and forage for a hearty meal before the snow flies.

I quietly observe for a spell, then head back down the road.

My head is satisfied with the adventure, and the memories of this place.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?