In the distance, I could see the Idaho hills covered in snow as we got further north. The deeper we got into Idaho, more and more signs of “Icy Roads” were popping up. As a native Californian, I melt like sugar in the rain. I’d only seen snow on day trips up the mountains, once every five years or so. I’d never driven in wet, icy conditions. I’d never even seen warning signs for ice on the road before. However, my hubby is a native of Massachusetts. He grew up shoveling snow every winter and had recounted stories of getting cars stuck in snow drifts like it was a normal occurrence.

Stories like this were echoing in my head as my hands gripped the wheel tighter, seeing patches of white begin to surround me on the sides of the road. It was my husband’s stories that reinforced how unprepared I was to be behind the wheel right then. I’m not sure if the car was actually getting colder, or if I just felt frigid with the whitening landscape surrounding me; feeling all alone while my exhausted hubby snoozed so peacefully in the reclined seat beside me.

Weathering the Road Blocks

I couldn’t wake him. My conscious wouldn’t let me. But, I suspect my hubby somehow picked up on his panicking wife, who was beginning to freeze like the slivers of ice beginning to fall around her. (My husband has an uncanny ability to read my mind). He opened his sleepy eyes, sat up to look at our surroundings, then looked at me.

“You can pull over when you get a chance,” he said.

“Are you sure?” I spit out with not-so-hidden relief.

He insisted. Claiming he couldn’t sleep anymore anyway, though I think he was just trying to wash away my guilt. A 3-hour nap was all he needed, he said. Being excited for our trip seemed to keep my husband awake… I guess.

I wondered how long his stamina could last.

We reached Gardiner, Montana around 11:30am. Though the snowy landscape of hills and trees were breathtaking, that gorgeous view was the reason we couldn’t enter Yellowstone that day. Typically, only the north entrance is opened during this off-season: however, the wet and icy weather conditions had created mudslides, closing off our only passage of entry into Yellowstone. Even with all of our planning and research, we couldn’t have planned on this.

Feeling pretty disappointed, we walked around the entrance a little, taking pictures of the metal statues for the bear and wolf preserves nearby, promising ourselves to come back during a warmer season. But, that’s all we got to do for that stop. Over 15 hours on the road, and we were off again. Imagine our disappointment. Our first stop’s plans were already being foiled.

It was around here, however, that signs and warnings for bears kept popping up on the side of the road. I couldn’t help feeling excited. Though I realize a bear-sighting should be met with caution, the childish animal lover in me couldn’t help wishing for such an encounter. Sadly (or luckily), I saw no bears. Nor did I see any moose or buffalo that apparently also have crossings along highway 90. However, somehow, I wasn’t as disappointed as I thought I should be.

Yellowstone is Beautiful Inside and Out

The natural scenery surrounding us was possibly the most beautiful landscape that I have ever seen in my life. Gorgeous green hills, snow-sprinkled mountains, frosty creeks, lush forests, and patches of snow enveloped us for miles. The contrasting colors were so vibrant with the greens, whites, orange and yellow foliage and blue skies. I wish I was a painter or a poet to fully commemorate that inspiring moment of sheer, natural beauty.

The picturesque view made all of my previous frustrations vanish. We may not have seen the inside of Yellowstone, but the surrounding mountains were anything but a let-down. I can only imagine how breath-taking the rest of the park is. With that scene, suddenly our day of driving didn’t seem wasted at all. There were hours of driving ahead, but there was no where else we wanted to be. As the landscape around me rolled on, I made a mental note that this is definitely on my list of places to return to.

Everything Changes at Night

Around 9pm, we rolled into Historic Keystone, South Dakota, the smallest of towns where most everything is dark and closed during the off season. Driving through the town in the dark of night, I could still tell it must’ve been adorable in the daytime with the 1800-themed shops, though it is seemingly no bigger than a single block and mostly closed this time of year.

Though we were tired and anxious to rest, our excitement to drive to Mt. Rushmore couldn’t be ignored. Driving to the scene, the enormous busts are lit up at night from below, yet we felt completely let down on first appearance. The sculpture of our presidents had terrible detail; they didn’t look at like the pictures I’d seen growing up. Seeing them at night was anything but a good idea. Confused, but refusing to give up hope, we were determined to get a better view in the morning, and much needed rest.

Small Town, Quaint Hospitality

We stayed at one of the only open motels around – the Mr. Rushmore White House Resort.

And, we ate at the only open restaurant in Historic Keystone at that hour. We were also the only diners sitting at a table.

A buffalo burger and bacon-wrapped jalapeno tater tots were just what we needed to fill our empty stomachs, lifting our spirits as we tasted our first bite of local cuisine outside of California.

Likewise, our motel room was tiny, but clean and comfy. It was just the recharging that we so desperately needed. I was exhausted, but my hubby showed no signs of fatigue as he worked on 3 hours of sleep in the last two days. Despite a few disappointments, he was pumped and ready to continue our journey. Luckily, a little coaxing to lie down had him falling asleep in a matter of seconds.