Rawlins is not a nice place. At least that is how a local Airbnb describes the town. The listing states that while Rawlins “has fantastic people” it fails to meet the standards of a basic tourist destination. Three nights at this Airbnb would set you back about $360.

We actually disagree with that sentiment. Rawlins has a very compact/functional downtown populated by the usual collection of repurposed old buildings and saloons. They also have an excellent Thai restaurant. Really great stuff. I recommend the spicy eggplant and also the shrimp massaman. Yum yum in my tum.

Which brings me to a rather obvious point. Jackson Hole is nothing like the rest of Wyoming. The covid vaccination rate for Jackson, for example, is a very impressive 71% while the rest of Wyoming comes in at a death wish 34%. A similar gap can also be found in the political realm with Biden easily outpacing Trump in Teton county (67% to 30%). But the biggest difference between Jackson Hole and the rest of the state is in housing prices which range from “you can’t afford it” to “hmmm, that’s just a bit more than I thought it would be.”

So where would we rather be? Guess it depends on the day. For now though this trip is quickly moving east with tomorrow likely bringing us home. We miss the mountains already

The red moon last night was as pretty as it was unnatural. Whereas a few nights ago the Milky Way was still prominent across the night sky (and I saw three shooting stars in the time it took to empty my bladder at around three in the morning), last night there were maybe two dozen stars visible.

The world is on fire. In Greece and Italy. Closer to home fires rage in California, Oregon and British Columbia. Their intensity is such that they choke people a thousand miles away from their flames. Here in the Tetons the smoke drifts with the weather patterns. The current heat wave brings with it a hazy blanket that drapes over the not so distant peaks.

Climate change does not care if you believe in it. It’s kind of like Covid that way. And the next ten years or so will likely be a doozy with feedback loop after feedback loop making everything hotter and drier than the day before. At least those were my thoughts while tending a fire under a bright red moon

Ask anyone in Thermopolis about the Swastika building and they will tell you that it ain’t what it seems. The building was built in 1917. The “Swastikas” are reversed and were included in the architecture as a peaceful message to the neighboring Shoshoni tribe who have used this symbol for a millennia. All of this may be true but it is still not hard to see why this building might run people the wrong way.

Even more surprising is that several businesses adjacent to the Not Exactly A Swastika Building have menorah stickers prominently displayed on their doors. On Tuesday night, around 6 PM and at the height of the tourist season, all but one of those businesses were closed. The one employee at that business had no idea what a menorah was. When shown the sticker affixed to her window, the elderly woman explained that there “are not a lot of people of that religion” in the town but that the owner of the building was in fact “someone of that religion.” I told her that I was actually one of those people of that religion. She thoughtfully nodded her head at me then suggested the stickers were put on to make that one Jewish businessman happy. I walked out confused.

Later at Hot Springs State Park we met a very cool local who also thought the menorah stickers were a way to make that one Jewish businessman feel welcome. Hmmm…. Interesting. But that answer still did not feel quite right.

The next day we asked a few more locals about the menorahs. First thing we discovered is that everyone in town knows that this one business is owned by a Jewish couple from New York City. After that though the stories became a bit muddled. One person thought it was part of a fundraiser. Another knew it had to do with a chalk art festival. None of these answers really made a lot of sense.

During lunch at a local cafe we finally heard a story that felt true. A local eccentric once sketched out in chalk a few stock symbols of the Jewish faith with the word “repent.” This message was drawn in the general vicinity of that one Jewish businessman’s store. In a show of solidarity the surrounding businesses affixed menorah stickers to their doors. Later they were invited over for a Hannuakah dinner where they took turns spinning a dreidel and lighting a menorah. And that my friends is the Miracle of Thermopolis.

The saddest of the falls we visited this week was in Sioux Falls, SD. The falls themselves were fine although they have, per the park signs, seen better days. For example there use to be a beautiful wooded island smack dab in the middle of the rolling falls. People supposedly came from all over the world to picnic there (grainy photos show men and woman in very uncomfortable dress pretending to have a good time eating a sandwich outdoors). The island was later flooded after a dam was built to help generate a little electricity.

But falling water makes clean energy and if that means overly dressed ladies and gentlemen have to find a new place to picnic then so be it. The thing that made the falls sad to us was their incredibly close proximity to a very large meat processing plant. Falls Park even offered a small museum dedicated to giving tourists the “stockyard experience.” Yikes.

It’s not all slaughter houses and waterfalls though for us on what is our second road trip of the summer. We are also checking  out a few more colleges including Macalester in understated but still hip St. Paul, MN. But really we just want to head out west to see some mountains. Sadly though the view will likely be hazy. And if the fires weren’t bad enough, Covid cases are on the rise everywhere. And don’t get me started on the growing right wing threat to democracy. Some days I think it’s only the falls that keep us going.

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