Day 8 -481 Miles- Buffalo, WY to Colorado Springs, CO

I’ve been putting this off for quite some time for several reasons. First, I was waiting for my brother to post his report because I told him I would. He posted a couple of days ago so I don’t have to wait anymore. Second, once I post this report of the last day of the trip it will really be over and I’m kind of sad about that. It has been great fun telling the tale and sharing it with all those who have expressed an interest. And last, not that much happened and it’s kind of anticlimactic.

I looked at my almost 400 pictures and discovered I did not take one picture of this day’s travel. Not one! Luckily Carlton did so I at least have some to include.

As usual the day started with the hunt for caffeine. That’s the problem with staying in cheap hotels; besides the fact that they’re not really cheap. They either don’t have coffee at all or they don’t have coffee worth drinking. Lucky for us there was a McDonald’s just down the street and over the last couple of years they have made a concerted effort to supply a very good cup of coffee. I found it to be one of the best on the market and considering the price that some places charge it is one of the best values also.

We walked to McDonald’s and had a cup of coffee and a bite to eat then headed back to the room to load up. Only one of the other motorcycle riders was up and about. He was headed north into the teeth of the cold front that had snuck in overnight and not having the right gear, he was bundle up in everything he brought. Carlton gave him some electrical tape so he could seal off the bottoms of his pants and he headed out. I didn’t make notes but I think he had just bought the bike from some rich dude in Denver with too many toys and was headed back to Missoula. I hope he made it alright; I wouldn’t want to be riding that bike with those forward controls into that kind of weather.

Not long after that we were on the road ourselves. I thought we could run out from under the cold front but I was taking chances like I had on Thursday. I dressed for the current conditions, not what I thought it might be down the road the bit.


Carlton said I would scare small children but I figured with the chin bar down they wouldn’t notice too much.

We headed south on I25 and had the road pretty much to ourselves. If I had been alone, I probably would have pushed the speed limit a little but Carlton was trying to maximize his range we settled in around 80mph and I locked the throttle down in a loose trail formation.


At the first gas stop we debated shedding some gear the temps had climbed from the mid 40s to the mid 50s but at 80mph that’s still pretty chilly so we stayed geared up. Carlton handed me his camera so I could take his picture but I couldn’t find the zoom out button.


I later found out he had wanted a picture of himself in his cold weather gear so I found this one in the reflection of my sunglasses in the first picture above:

Sorry I can’t clean it up any better; I don’t have all the high dollar software the use on CSI.

After that it was a couple of hundred more miles of this:


Then we got to Denver. Temps were finally in the 70s. We had outrun the cold front and it was a beautiful day. We stripped some gear, got some gas, ate a sandwich and jumped back on the road. Traffic in Denver was mercifully light, that means it flowed through, if not at the posted speed, at least without stopping…much.

Once through Denver it was a just a short 45 minutes home but we couldn’t quite make it without that last fuel stop. Actually we probably could have but Carlton was headed out in the morning and he was already running on fumes so we went ahead and topped off on the way in. He did anyway. I still had half a tank (almost 3 gallons) which is enough to get me back and forth to work (30 miles round trip) for a week.

With the sun low in the western sky, we parked our bikes and settled in for the evening.



We sat at the computer and laughed and reminisced as we reviewed the well over 800 pictures we had taken. We were pleasantly surprised at how good a lot of the pictures were and we relived the trip in our minds as we reviewed the roads we had traveled. We were again awestruck at the memory of the beauty we had seen and disappointed in our inability to capture the tenth part of it on film (I guess that should be “as pixels” now but somehow it looses something when phrased that way.)

The next Morning Carlton left early as he had a long day in front of him. It’s over 700 miles to Garland from my house and the only fun part is over Raton Pass and even that is just OK. I have made the trip numerous times myself and although I was sad my trip was over I didn’t envy Carlton the last leg of his.

My youngest brother, Mark, recently gave me a copy of a book by Louis L’amour that is unique in that it is not a western. It is a historical novel called “The Walking Drum”, set in the twelfth century, covering a span from Western Europe to Western Asia and I highly recommend it.

There is a People described in the book called the Petchenegs who were pre-Mongol invaders from the steppes of Asia (they were real. I looked it up.) They had a toast in their language, Yol bolsun, which meant – Let there be a road – a toast I now embrace with gusto and with hope that you will join me!

YOL BOLSUN!

Day 7 -362 miles- Columbus, MT to Buffalo, WY

The Super 8 we spent the night in had a business center so since we had been out of touch for several days I went downstairs to update the blog while sleeping beauty got his rest. They had a continental breakfast set up but I refrained because we had a planned breakfast stop in Red Lodge. I did attempt the coffee though and it was pretty nasty so I laid off that too. Lucky for me I packed some extra strength Excedrin that has 25mg of caffeine and in a coffeeless emergency one will generally hold me over.

I had suggested the route change that brought us to Columbus instead of Laurel based solely on the squigglieness of the road on the map.

This:

Simply looked like more fun than this:


I think choosing roads may have something to do with what kind of bike you ride.

On a clear day, it would have been an excellent choice. On a clear day…

Lucky for me (and I have to say, some luck you just have to make for yourself) I had the right gear for where we were headed.


This fog:


Eventually limited visibility to less than 100 feet and made for pretty slow going in spots. It’s never a good idea to outride your line of sight and we were in and out of “open range” and smacking into a cow at highway speed that suddenly appeared in front of me out of the fog (100 feet is pretty sudden at 70mph) did not sound like a pleasant experience. Besides, I would hate to have had to ride home some 900 miles on the back of the Valk.

Right before we got into Red Lodge the fog lifted like it was never there. We pulled into the Café for an eagerly anticipated cup of coffee and a spot of breakfast. I was somewhat disappointed that there was no Eggs Benedict on the menu but the coffee was good, the service was great, and breakfast was not bad at all.

As I was making my way to the restroom after the meal a gentleman seated at a neighboring table asked me if that was my Vstrom out front. I said that it was and he invited me to sit with him and his wife and discuss it. How could I say no? By the time Carlton tapped me on the back and said we needed to get going (another couple was waiting for our table and some of my gear was still stacked there) the distinguished gentleman had pretty much decided he was going to go look at a new Vstrom. I wished them well and Carlton and I resumed our journey.

The road up Beartooth pass was a serious bit of road and I didn’t take any pictures. Carlton, not being saddled with a motorcycle that leans over too far in the curves, was able to snap a few.




Standing on top of that pass was like standing on top of the world. Usually when you go over a “pass” there is still some mountain on either side of you, not in this case. I think that road went right over the top of that mountain. We could see for 100 miles in any direction. Awesome!


The way down was just as much fun as the way up, hence, no pictures. Sorry. After we got to the bottom I let Carlton Lead. He likes to lead and I don’t mind on the straight stuff.

You’ll notice that throughout this trip I have lots of pictures from behind him as he leans into a turn and he has none of me in the same position. That’s because when I’m in front on a road that lends itself to that style of riding, I’m way in front. The lens required to capture that shot is a little too cumbersome to use from a moving motorcycle. His close-ups of me riding are generally more like this:


We headed down 120 through Cody and somewhere just north of Thermopolis we cut over on 431 to Worland and the start of the Chief Joseph Scenic Byway and lunch.

On our second pass through Worland we found a little Mexican place that, while it didn’t look like much, at least had some cars in the parking lot (always a good sign). It was OK but a little on the bland side, nothing to write home about.

The Chief Joseph Scenic Byway was anything but bland.


Too bad there’s not a picture of me in this turn because I look better than that even with one hand on the camera.

This is a shot of Meadowlark Lake on the back side of Powder River Pass.

We ran into a couple of interesting groups throughout the day. At one point we crossed paths with a couple of guys from England who had rented Harley’s to tackle Beartooth and explore Yellowstone. They were having a great time and were in awe of the sheer size of the open country. A guy in another group had trailered his Goldwing to Wyoming from Minnesota to ride through Yellowstone. Yeah, I don’t get it either.

We ran into several more bikers at the hotel. They were either on their way from or going to all parts of the country. I was beginning to think Buffalo, Wyoming was a major travel hub.


Bonus time for Kevin.

I have grandkids that live with their Mom and Other Grandparents in Buffalo. I had called earlier in the week to let them know I would be in town. So when we got checked in I headed out to hook up.


I spent a great evening playing baseball with Brandon and then getting a tour of the house from Whitney and seeing all her artwork. Their other Grandparents, Benny and Patty, along with the kid’s Mom, Denise, were gracious hosts and would have fed me everything in the kitchen but I settled for some Coconut Cream Pie and some Tang Patty had bought on a whim because she hadn’t seen it in years and I hadn’t had any in years so I drank some.

The kids were as happy to see me as I was to see them and the visit was much too short but it kept me smiling through most of the next day.

Day 6 -423 miles- Kalispell, MT to Columbus, MT

My eyes popped open at 6:30 and while I couldn’t smell it, I knew that coffee was just under 300 yards away. I looked out the window to see if I needed my flashlight to hunt it down and saw that the sunrise had some photographic potential so I threw on some clothes and headed outside to wait for the sunrise to materialize. It didn’t really reach the potential I thought it had but it was still pretty nice.


After the sunrise petered out I headed over to the Java Hut for my morning fix. I knew it would still be at least an hour or two before we left and we would not eat breakfast until we’d been on the road for a while so I bought what I thought were a couple of pastries to go with our morning coffee and carried it all back to the hotel.

Did I mention that Carlton was still asleep?

Carlton was still asleep when I got back to the hotel room but it was going on 7:30 and past time to be getting showered and packed. I walked in with coffee and what turned out to be a pair of muffin tops that were dry and dense and barely edible. A couple of bites ought to last anyone a day or so. The coffee however, was great!

Today was supposed to be a mostly interstate day to get in position to ride Beartooth pass tomorrow. I looked over the map and made some suggestions that not only made it a bit shorter; it made it a bit more fun too. Instead of heading back down Hwy93 to I90, we would go down Hwy 83 to 200 to 141 to 12 to I90.

When we finally got on the road I thought I might be a little underdressed. It was pretty chilly and while it wasn’t raining, it was thinking about it awfully hard. I decided to go on like I was, surely the sun would burn this off and it would warm up pretty soon…


That makes me pretty dumb. I don’t know if it ever warmed up in Kalispell that day but it sure didn’t while we were there. When we passed through Swan Lake I stopped and got a picture of the sign for my Mom who loves Swans but stubbornly refused to believe it would stay cold for any length of time.


While I didn’t put on any extra clothes, I did seal up my vents. It wasn’t enough. By the time we stopped for gas in Seeley Lake I was on the verge of shivering. Not good. I drank some water and put on my quilted liners before we headed out again.

That fixed the problem for me and the sun was trying to come out, it just couldn’t quite make it.


Then we finally rounded a corner and there it was…Sunshine.


It warmed up pretty quickly after that and I was able to shed some gear at the next fuel stop. Luckily, Carlton was riding the Valk and fuel stops were fairly frequent.

The rest of the ride was relatively uneventful (although I90 in that part of the country is actually pretty fun) until just over an hour out from Columbus. We were at, yet again, a fuel stop and Carlton suggested swapping bikes for a bit. I tried to put him off. I told him the Interstate does not reflect the strength of the Vstrom. It can do it and do it well, it just isn’t best suited for that type of travel.

Tangent: The Vstrom has been referred to as the SUV of motorcycles. It is one of very few bikes that can do just about any type of riding you want to do. It doesn’t really shine in any one category but it can hold its own in all of them and it can better than hold its own in some. Just like a Ford Expedition can handle a dirt road with ease but you would be reluctant to take it rock crawling, the Vstrom can handle dirt roads in just about any condition but it’s not really made for off-road work. It can hang with the canyon carvers or cruise with the Goldwings. It’s a great commuter, and makes a pretty decent sport-tourer. It is the multi-tool of the motorcycle world and there are only a small handful of bikes that it can be compared to and the Valkyrie is not one of them. Compared strait up to a Valkyrie on the interstate it will loose. Compared to a DR650 on a single track it will loose. Compared to a Ninja in the twisties it would depend on the riders. But none of those bikes can compete outside their categories while the Vstrom can hold its head up across the board.

OK, I’m back.

I told him if you really want to see what it could do, the Interstate is not the right place to test it. He said he knew it could do the other stuff and wanted to see how it rode on the Interstate. Long story short, he didn’t like it and was happy to trade back and truth be told, so was I.

Columbus is not a big place. We discussed out options while, you guessed it, getting gas. There were two hotels in town; a super 8 that was under renovation and an old place down town. I walked into the Super 8 and requested a double.

The girl at the check-in counter looked in her computer and said, “I have a non-smoking room with two queens for $88.”

I looked her in the eye and said, “That’s too high.” This line was delivered totally dead pan and she wasn’t sure what to say next.

The manager, expecting trouble, came out of her office as the girl at the counter was asking me why I got a discount.

“I’m cute.” This was said with one eyebrow slightly raised and a rising inflection but not quite enough to imply a question.

The two girls doubled over in a laughing fit obviously due to my expert delivery of these rather comic lines and not to any perceived discrepancy in the factualness of the statement.

When she caught her breath, Kim was kind enough to list a rather extensive list of categories that qualified for a discount and finally found one that applied for me. I’m a veteran, so I got $20 off. Nice.

I asked for a recommendation for a place to eat and she gave me a couple but we couldn’t refuse this place:


I asked to speak with the owner since we shared a rather uncommon last name but as it turned out we didn’t share it. They just picked the name because they liked the sound of it.

Nothing like a little humor, a cold beer and a good steak to cap off a good day.

Day 5 -212 miles- Glacier National Park Loop

The Big Day! The reason for all the miles, the months of meticulous planning (day dreaming really – I mean, it’s rather obvious that the bulk of this trip has been a bit of a seat-of-the-pants adventure with little more than a general idea of where we want to be before (or shortly after) dark and roughly what road we want to take to get there). That is, all except for this day; the goal of our trip, the climax of the story, the peak of the adventure…

It started with the hunt for caffeine.

There was a pot in our room but hotel room coffee is almost always nasty so I didn’t bother trying to make it. I was headed to the front office to see what was available when I ran into another couple coming back from there with two each of those little 6oz Styrofoam cups. I decided to pass.

Luckily, not far down the street there was one of those little drive up java hut booths in the middle of a parking lot for what I think was a grocery store but it was closed and I didn’t get a picture because I hadn’t had any coffee yet. The coffee was good and well worth the walk (almost 300 yards, I think).

With a short day planned and it already being close to 9:00AM we decided to indulge in a little breakfast before we headed out. We found a little place kind of like a Denny’s but not. I think it was a regional chain but I forgot the name and don’t have it in my notes. The only reason I mention it is because I had the Eggs Benedict and they were really good. Carlton had the two egg breakfast but he was eyeing my Eggs Benedict. I don’t think he’d had them before. He didn’t get them though and since I don’t remember the name of the place I guess you don’t either.

After breakfast we headed to the park. You should always keep your camera ready because you just never know what you’re going to see. I saw this sign and although I didn’t have my camera out, I found a picture on the internet so I can share it with you anyway.


The Park itself is really indescribable and I don’t think we were even there at the optimum viewing time. I can only imagine how much more colorful it would be in the fall or how much more spectacular it would be in the spring. Even so, it was awesome as it was.

The road into the park was its own kind of beauty:




Then the scenery once you got in was spectacular:



We had barely started up the pass when we were stopped for road work. At least they told us there was going to be a thirty minute delay so we could shed some gear and relax. There was a trio of Harley riders from Kalispell in front of us that were out for a day ride. So we passed the time talking to them about the local biking climate. They were out for one last ride, getting ready to put there bikes away for the winter! I shudder at the thought.

When we got moving again the line of traffic in front of us due to the hold up made enjoying the climb rather difficult, so I pulled over and waited for every one to go by.

Soon it was clear sailing again.


At the top of the pass there was a parking lot, a book store/museum, a bathroom, and a drinking fountain along with signs just about everywhere explaining almost everything, and just incase that’s not enough, there are Park Rangers on duty to answer your questions. You could spend all day at the top and still not know everything there is to know about that area.

I was surprised to learn that the pass was only about 400 ft higher than my house. The landscape is a lot different up north.

There are several trails that lead to various places within the park. We (Carlton and I) were standing at one of the trail heads that headed straight up the side of the mountain from the pass. There was no sign indicating where it went or how far away it was or what was at the end or if it even had an end. There was just a trail going pretty much straight up (OK, it zigzagged a bit.)

Carlton was looking up that trail longingly so I finally said, “If you want to head up that trail don’t let me stop you. I’m sure I can find plenty to entertain me around here until you get back.”

“Well, maybe I’ll head up a little ways and see where it goes.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll hang out here.”

Of he goes up the trail, I head back down to the bike to apply some more sunblock because the sun was pretty fierce and I hadn’t put any on since that morning. On the way I over hear the ranger telling this couple that just down the other trail, there is a family of mountain goats up on the side of the cliff face.

I decided to fill up my water bottle and head “down” the other trail for apicture of the goats. “Down” being the key word. Now I know that every step down is a step I have to take back up but that’s different than an unknown number of steps up to who-knows-what. Plus, I could turn around at any point and know exactly how far up I would have to climb to get back.

On the way to fill up my water bottle, I ran into the sign for the trail Carlton was on. It was 1.5 miles to the hidden lake overlook and 3 miles to the lake itself. I figured I had time for my goat expedition. It was only about a half a mile down the trail to the goats.

By the time I got back to the parking lot. I figured Carlton would almost be to the over look where he would probably take some pictures then head back. I figured if his heart was still beating he was probably thirsty because I know he didn’t take any water and the heat and altitude will trick you flatlanders so I headed up the trail with a new refill figuring to meet him on the way down.

I was almost to the halfway point when we met and he was real appreciative of the water I’d brought from him.

Here’s what he saw at the top:


Oh, and this guy:


I, seeing no need to continue to the top, joined Carlton in his descent.

This has to be a record for a motorcycle trip. In almost 6 hours we had covered about 50 miles and still had 150 to go.

We saddled up and headed down the east side of the pass.


The way down was as magnificent as the way up. We stopped to take some more pictures. At one point Carlton parked his bike in one of the pull-outs and head down the side of the road to get a picture of a water fall from right underneath it. He lost his footing, very easy to do when walking on an uneven surface in a full face helmet, and nearly fell down the side of the mountain. He was too far away for me to yell a warning and he was probably fully aware of what had just happened so I did the only sensible thing, I got my camera ready incase he did it again.


This is the shot he got:


We took over 800 pictures between us on this trip and most of them on this day. As tempting as it is to put them all here, I can’t. It is incredibly difficult to choose which ones to post so I hope you like these:





We saved the park sign for last because there was a line of people at the west entrance waiting to get their picture in front of the sign and I knew there would be another one at the other end.


At this point I thought the day was pretty much done and we were just going to head back to the hotel and get ready for tomorrow. Little did I know…

Hwy89 south out of Glacier National Park is one of the best roads of the trip. Sorry, no pics. It’s a high speed, two hands kind of road. We turned on to 49 (Looking Glass Hill Road) at Kiowa and went over the hill (we would call it a mountain). This road is on a Blackfeet Indian reservation and is closed in the winter and not very well maintained. When the sign says loose gravel on road, what it means is “loose gravel road”. That’s a bit of a surprise the first time but I got used to it.

On the other side of the pass we hooked up with hwy2 and took that around the south side of the park and back toward Kalispell.

We stopped for fuel (I know, it’s the Valk, it can’t even make a simple little day trip without stopping for gas) just short of Hungry Horse and I asked a customer at the pumps if there was a good place to eat close by and he recommended one so we headed out to the Elk Horn Grill.


While we were there, there was a little guy that was absolutely fascinated by the motorcycles in the parking lot. He kept going over to the window and starring at them and insisting to his mother that there were motorcycles.

“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”

“Yes honey, there are motorcycles.”

“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”
“Mama! Motorcycles!”

“Yes honey, there are motorcycles.”

She had more patience than I did. As we were leaving, I offered to let the little guy sit on my bike and his parents readily agreed. Gabriel, as it turns out was not as enthusiastic about actually touching one though. With some prodding from dad he did try it though.


The food and service at the Elk Horn Grill are excellent and I would recommend it to anybody.

Later that evening as we were cleaning the bugs off our bikes and enjoying an ice cold beverage my phone spoke. I say spoke because it’s more accurate than rang or chirped etc. I have it programmed to notify my in different ways for different things. For example, when I get a text message it plays a clip from Monty Python that starts with the sound effect of an arrow hitting a board and vibrating then some one saying “Message for you sir.” When I get and e-mail, Tweety Bird says, “What’s this, a letter for me?” Well, Tweety spoke so I pulled my phone out to read my e-mail and spewed beer all over the parking lot when I read Jason’s e-mail: He said to tell Carlton sorry about the Valk but he had gone to look at a V-Strom. I laughed pretty good at that. It was great way to top of a great day.

Day 4 -505 miles- Boise, WY to Kalispell, MT

The temperature fluctuations and accumulated miles from day three had made me pretty tired and I slept great that night. I think we rode through about a 40 degree swing from the upper 50s to the upper 90s, from rain and overcast to bright-sun-in-your-face-sucking energy-out-of-your-sweat-soaked-bones. Luckily my AST and a bottle of water I could squeeze into my vents as I rode kept me cool in the hot stretches.

Day 4 promised to be different.

The continental breakfast was pretty good. I had fresh waffle (made it myself) covered with strawberries and whipped cream. As I was stuffing my pie hole with all that goodness Carlton was upstairs watching the local new and weather. I think that kind of takes the fun out of it. I mean we’re going where were going anyway, right?

As it turns out, a fire started in the night right along our planned exit route. I learned this from Carlton as we were mounting up. They hadn’t closed the road yet but it was a possibility. Since we really wanted that road we decided to head on and hope we made it through before it closed.

We headed out and when we reached the top of the pass we could see that the valley ahead was full of smoke. I took a picture but it really doesn’t show the smoke that well:


I didn’t have my camera out as we headed into the valley and I really should have, Carlton got some great shots. I wanted to get a shot of the fire I could post on the blog from the road, not knowing at the time that my friend at work couldn’t see my pictures anyway. I could post pictures from my phone but not from my camera but I couldn’t use my phone as a camera while riding so had to stop. Had I watched the news, I’d have known hat this is one of things you are not supposed to do but I didn’t get caught so I was able to post the picture nobody could see.

Here are some of Carlton’s (kind of):




After the fire things got really nice.


The road was wide and lonely, the speed limit was high enough to be fun and the turns were wide enough to sail a ship through.



Somewhere before Hwy55 intersected with Hwy95 we passed through the little town of Donnelly, ID. In and of itself this is rather insignificant. We didn’t stop although I wish I had long enough to get a picture of the sign in front of the local café. It read:

Buffalo Gal’s Diner
World Cuisine
&
Sushi

That struck me as one of the funniest sites I’d seen. I could just imagine a bunch of farmers in Podunk Idaho bellying up to the Sushi Bar in their overalls. I kick myself for not getting that picture.

Shortly after that we turned on to Hwy 95 and cruise into Grangeville where we picked up 13 to Kooskia, ID, the gateway to Motorcycle Heaven.

But first a spot of lunch.

In the small town of Lowell there was a small Inn, Ryan’s wilderness Inn, with an attached diner that evidently people come from all over the country to enjoy:


There is a quest book on the table beneath the map and a little dish of pin flags for customers to use to add their home town to the list. Mine was already pinned so I just took the picture and signed the book.

(Lunch was good too. Bonus. I had the tuna on wheat toast and cheddar/broccoli soup)

Hwy 12 is also know as the Northwest Passage Scenic Byway. It supposedly unchanged since Lewis and Clark first saw it (I assume they mean other than the asphalt).

Back to Motorcycle Heaven:

All that squigelliness on the map is what motorcycle riders live for. It happens to come right after this sign:


And in this case the sign does not lie. What followed was an uninterrupted hour of some of the best riding on the trip. The turns were great big, high speed sweepers that didn’t take so much concentration that we missed the scenery which was spectacular. It was the best of both worlds; scenic and great fun to ride.






As we started to climb the pass (Lolo Pass) the turns began to tighten up but still not so tight we couldn’t enjoy the scenery.



At the top of the pass we crossed the state line.


And we relaxed for the rest of the cruise into Kalispell.


I had put my camera away at our last fuel stop as the sun had started to set and I figured it would be too dark soon. Once again, it was a mistake. The first sight you get of Flathead Lake as you head north on Hwy93 is absolutely breathtaking. I didn’t take the picture because we thought we would be back that way the next day at around the same time but we never made it and so there is no picture and it’s your loss. I got to see it and it will
remain with me for a long time. I know that sounds kind of harsh but there it is. All I can say is, “Go see it!” I know I’ll be back.