Wyoming Wedding

11 days, 7 states, and 442 pictures later, I’m home. Our road trip started with the first 10-hour leg to Salt Lake City. Things got exciting when we pulled into a gas station in Vegas and I saw a polygamist and three wives. I so wanted to a take a picture for Marianne, but my camera wasn’t reachable. Another bummer: three hours into the drive I was struck with some pretty vicious food poisoning (what is it with me and food poisoning? Holy crud!) The kind of food poisoning that makes death seem like a welcome option. We had to stop every half hour for me to use the restroom or throw up in a bush. Naomi and Rita spent one such episode laughing in the car and taking photos of me hunched over all pathetic-like. Perhaps God thought I needed some humbling because I was a disgusting, sad little wretch in front of my friends and it couldn't be helped. To make it worse, when we dropped Naomi off at her cousin’s in Salt Lake, they let me use the bathroom and I had to come out and ask for a plunger when I was done. Humble, humble, humble pie.

Anyway, by the next day I was back on my feet and ready for a tour of the temple of all Mormon temples with my Aunt Cheryl. Two very demure missionary Mormon girls led us around for half an hour. At the end they sang us a song. I was thankful Marianne wasn’t present because I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together. Afterwards a guy from Jerusalem approached me and asked the difference between Mormonism and Catholicism. I told him I wasn’t a Mormon, but gave him my take on the differences. Suddenly, an older Mormon woman appeared out of nowhere and said “Well, I am a Mormon and here’s what I believe.” A growing bunch of us stood there in Temple Square and had a little theological discussion. Pretty groovy. We then had some lunch in the Joseph Smith building and boy, can Mormons do oven-roasted turkey like nobody’s business.

The next day we headed out to the Grand Tetons (literally translates as “Big Boobs” in French.) Stunning! Rita and I had a great time floating down the Snake River, then Naomi joined us for a freakin’ fantastic hike near Jenny Lake. We ran into a moose on the trail, but thankfully no bears. A few hikers saw a bear seconds before we ran into them on a trail earlier that morning, so we adopted the practice of singing and clapping to alert bears to our presence. Thankfully we never took any bears off guard, but we did get to see one a few days later in Yellowstone, along with tons of elk, bison, mountain goats, and a coyote. Near our cabin in Colter Bay there was an Indian Museum and they sponsor artisans who rotate every 7 days and demonstrate and sell handicrafts. We met Sacagawea’s great great niece and Naomi bought some earrings that she made. Pretty cool.

After we had our fill of the park, we zoomed over to Cody, Wyoming for a couple of days at Bison Willy’s Hostel. Our one roommate the first night was the very sweet Curtis, with whom we shared a bottle of huckleberry wine. Curtis seemed pretty happy to be sharing a bunkhouse with three ladies. The next night we were joined by the two motorcycling Seans. Anyway, we visited the awesome Buffalo Bill Museum, which had an excellent Native American section. Trail Town was followed by a kitschy miniatures museum, then a visit to Christi’s dad’s taxidermy shop. A definitive highlight, people. I touched elephant feet and saw a freshly skinned bear. Yikes! I think we created a little stir in the tiny town of Cody. We were like the United Nations. A drunk guy came up to Rita in a saloon and said “Wow, a black person!” and gave her a hug.

The next day while Rita rock climbed, I had a private horseback ride with my own personal cowboy, Trinity. Me likee cowboys. Enough said. We finally landed at the Shoshone Lodge in time for Christi and Josh’s rehearsal dinner. It was great to see our pal Christi again. The wedding on the side of a hill just outside of Yellowstone was laid back and casual and words would not ever be able to do the reception justice. There were only about 50 people and let me tell you, those 50 knew how to whoop it up. There was a very rough-around-the-edges cowboy/rock band and by song three or four, the bride and her sisters had already donned their glitter berets. We met a cool cowboy couple, BJ and her husband Marshall, who danced with each one of us. The drummer had tattoos and an eye patch and one of the guitar players was completely wasted, yet managed to play the guitar behind his head with his eyes closed. Later, right before he fell down the stairs, he offered to “entertain” both Rita and I at the same time, if you catch my drift, to which Rita responded “That is SO inappropriate.” Then she wiggled out of his greasy grasp. We met so many characters that we spent half the time laughing hysterically. If you’ve never been to a Wyoming wedding and you ever get the chance, hightail it out there lickety splickety…