As we got into the Old Faithful area, I was pretty sick of watching my back for mounties and flicking my lights on and off to simulate brakelights. I pulled into the former Hamilton Store, and seeing no one within one hundred feet behind me, I didn't do my light trick.
As soon as I got out of the 'Runner, a somewhat disgruntled man approached me with the proclamation that "You don't have any brakelights. I was behind you and saw no brakelights. You have no brakelights!" I assured him that I was painfully aware of the situation, and that there was no remedy for the problem aside from taking up permanent residence at Old Faithful unless I drove at least forty miles and waited for two days until Monday when something could feasably be done, and I'd still be driving there without brakelights. I was very cheerful and tried to act grateful for his information, but he seemed unsatisfied with my speech. So I just went back to the task at hand.
Admiring a '79 p200e in the space beside us.
Wow. Quite a clean little wasp. I ogled and took a few photos, leaving a short note of camaraderie and admiration while Ryan complained that I was straying from the established course of focusing on the acquisition of a couple of BMW bikes before the close of the coming winter.
I am a fickle biker, sometimes.
Anyway, we made it into the store/cafe in due time, and although we were a bit disappointed in the changes in the menu made by the current proprietors (no extensive kid's menu served on frisbees and no Bison Burger being the most egregious), we ate and were satisfied indeed.
Walking over to The Geyser, we were struck by how many people there were. Ryan doesn't like crowds any less than I do, but he has probably had less opportunity (or cursed impositions, as the case may be) to have to learn to deal with the same. We went to a few of my favorite old spots, watched the Geyser blow, payed our respects to the Inn and Lodge, and left for less populated climes.