Go back to Wyoming.

The Diarrhea

It’s a 4-day Presidents Day Weekend and all the usual destinations have shit weather forecasted. Instead we roll the dice and head east towards Devils Tower and the promise of dry if chilly sunshine. Benny comes along though this is not exactly a dog-friendly destination – he’ll sit things out in the car (it’s winter; temps will be chilly anyway) and we’ll get some family hiking in on the afternoons post climbing. On day one, we climb the beautiful if stiffly rated McCarthy West Face route (the 10b variation, not the 11), just left of the more famous El Matador. Benny stays back in the Subaru entertained by (bribed with?) a large smoked bone we brought along for the occasion. We can see the car from high on the route and know that he’s quietly chewing the bone and not drawing attention to himself as the handfuls of tourists don’t even glance towards the car. When we get back a couple hours later, we find Benny soundly asleep with the bone between his paws. We hike a bit, let Benny enjoy the snow and even visit Frank whom we have not seen since our first trip to DT some 14 years ago. We make plans for day two climbing and fade out early in the motel room. Sometime in the pre-dawn hours, a smell wakes me up. I try to convince myself that Benny is having gas but no such luck. Seems the smoked bone did not agree with Benny and there are a couple of dollops of diarrhea on the floor. Morning turns into a marathon clean-up session and since we’re not willing to leave Benny to shit up the car, we head home instead. Another single route outing to Devils Tower.

The Photos

Go back to Wyoming.