Tuesday, May 31: I bid farewell to Yellowstone. Appropriately, my last images in the park were of a bison herd walking along the road in the morning, the overnight dew glistening on their shaggy coats in the cool morning sun.
My next destination was Missoula, Montana, about three hundred miles to the northwest. While the drive through rolling prairie and pasture was extremely scenic, it poured throughout and I was not a little relieved to reach Missoula around 3 pm in one piece. Contrary to my expectations, Missoula turned out to be quite a large town, partly explained by the fact that the University of Montana is located there. In keeping with the unique nature of this road trip, I was checked into my motel by a desk clerk with a hook for a right hand. While being back in civilisation had its benefits, including a soft, warm bed and television, I now had the unpleasant task of catching up on nearly a week’s worth of missed phone calls and emails which took up the better part of the afternoon, leaving me no time to do much else.
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