The Sheridan County High Point, Bighorn Mountains, Wyoming (6-27-20)

Part 2 of Day 5, Days 6 & 7 of Lupe’s 1st summer of 2020 Dingo Vacation to Wyoming!

Continued from Part 1 –

6-27-20, 1:50 PM, upper S slopes of Dome Peak (10,828 ft.) – Getting to the first grassy bench wasn’t the panacea SPHP thought it would be.  Instead of having an easy romp the rest of the way down to the 10,300 foot saddle S of Dome Peak, Lupe started coming to a series of green benches separated by 25 to 30 foot steep scrambles lower on jumbles of massive boulders.  Loop had plenty of time to enjoy the scenery or sniff about while waiting for that slowpoke SPHP to catch up.

The Carolina Dog had already lost most of the elevation she needed to by the time she came to a large snowbank.  A little below it, Lupe finally reached consistently better terrain.  Most of the boulder fields behind her, she now made rapid progress through meadows and pine forest, but soon encountered a long wall of rock blocking the way ahead.

Choosing to go E rather than W looking for a way around the wall, Loop found a way to scramble SE up onto it.  Flat rocks provided a decent path forward to open terrain beyond the wall.  No serious obstacles remained between the American Dingo and her next peakbagging objective – the Sheridan County High Point (11,020 ft.), still 1.5 miles away.

Once S of the 10,300 foot saddle, Lupe climbed steadily through fields dotted with boulders and small trees.  She passed W of HP10565, and had already made it to a steeper slope W of HP10740 when suddenly there was movement.  50 feet off to the L (SE), someone was coming down.  SPHP waved and shouted, and the stranger strode this way.

Jared was on his way back to his truck, parked several miles NW of here near Woodchuck Pass.  He had just completed his second ascent of the Sheridan County High Point.  The first time he had been here was 5 years ago with his wife and black lab.  Sadly, his dog had since died, and his wife had left him, so he was dealing with memories of better times on today’s journey.

According to trip reports SPHP had read, the Sheridan County High Point has two summits.  The N summit is a bit lower than the S one, although not by much.  At the high point of the S (true) summit, a large cracked boulder sits perched atop a rocky ridge.  A little exposed scrambling is required to get to this boulder, and to get up on top, it’s necessary to shimmy up the crack.

Jared said he’d made it up on top, and had also signed the register at the base of the cracked boulder.  SPHP asked for advice on what route to take to get to the boulder?  Jared advised staying to the R (W).  He’d tried scrambling around the E and SE sides, but found it to be a huge waste of time.  Too difficult!  And with that admonition, Jared was on his way.

Lupe and SPHP continued S.

Well, that was interesting, Loopster.

Do you think Jared gave us good advice?

Yeah.  He’s just been there, and came from the same direction we are, so it’s probably very good advice.

Was what Jared said different from what you expected?

Not really, but most of the written trip reports I’ve read are a bit hazy on exactly what direction people approached the final scramble to the cracked boulder from.  If I remember right, some have said that the SE and S sides are difficult or impossible, so I kind of had the impression that they’ve come up from the SW or W.  On the other paw, the GPS tracks I’ve seen come from Coney Lake off to the NE, and they don’t appear to confirm anyone circling around the mountain.  Looks like they go right up the E face or NE ridge.

Sounds confusing!  Maybe multiple routes exist?  Why don’t we just see how things look when we get there?

Hah!  That’s always the plan, isn’t it?  Or, at least our contingency plan.

Despite SPHP’s numerous brief rest stops, Lupe finally arrived at the base of the Sheridan County High Point’s N slope.  Rocky, but not nearly as rocky as Dome Peak’s S slope.  Simply a walk up, at least most of the way.  After a pause for more heavy breathing and contemplation, the steeper trudge higher commenced.

The ascent was all very straightforward.  Roughly 100 feet from the top, SPHP suddenly realized that Lupe was lagging behind.  Looking back, she wasn’t far away, but was standing stock still gazing intently up at an enormous snowbank off to the R (SW).

Giant deers!  4 of them, except they weren’t really giants yet.  They were small giant deers, mere fawns with spots on their coats.  The fawns had just crested the snowbank.  2 of them were heading this way blissfully unaware of the American Dingo’s presence.  The other 2 were hanging back, bashful and concerned.  They already knew the score.

Lupe was transfixed!  The 2 giant deer fawns ambled slowly closer and closer.  Their worried comrades began bleating warnings.  Suddenly, the innocents saw both Lupe and SPHP.  Instead of returning to their friends, the fawns were off like a shot, racing up the mountain and out of sight.  Seeing them flee, the Carolina Dog followed, but they were gone.

The giant deer fawns were the most thrilling thing that had happened all day.  Enthusiastically dashing this way and that, sniffing like mad, Loop showed renewed energy during the rest of the ascent.

6-27-20, 4:22 PM, N summit of the Sheridan CoHP – Lupe stood panting on the highest boulder of the N summit.  Getting here had been easy.  Worth it, too.  What a tremendous view!  Elk Peak (11,050 ft.) was in sight a few miles away.  Far beyond it were Black Tooth Mountain (13,005 ft.), and Cloud Peak (13,167 ft.), high point of the entire Bighorn Range.

The American Dingo was perfectly happy.  Tempting to just stay right here, enjoy it all, and call it good.

Not possible.

An irresistible, invisible force laser-focused the eye 200 feet S where the famous boulder sat perched atop a narrow rock ridge.  The crack wasn’t visible, but without a doubt that was the boulder the experts considered the true summit of the Sheridan County High Point (11,020 ft.).

That’s it, isn’t it, SPHP!  The true summit boulder!  Why, it hardly looks any higher than where we are right now.

Yeah, hard to tell much of a difference, Loop.

Look at it, though!  I can’t get up on top of that, SPHP!

Don’t worry!  You won’t have to.  This is as high as you’re going, and very nearly as high as that crazy boulder, anyway, so good enough for Dingo work, but I still want to give it a shot as your personal representative.

Are you sure, SPHP?  Looks dicey, way more dicey than what we are used to.  You aren’t a rock climber.

I know it.  Maybe I can’t get up there, either, but while we’re here, we just have to go see how close to success we can get, don’t we?  We’ll be very careful, I promise!

A brave speech, but mostly bravado.  In fact, SPHP couldn’t really even tell how to get close to the cracked boulder, much less get on top of it.  Just because others had done it, that didn’t mean SPHP could.

For 15 minutes, Lupe and SPHP rested atop the N summit.  This really was a fabulous spot, but it was getting late.  Loopster had to get back over Dome Peak before it got dark, and it was miles back to the G6 after that.  If any attempt at all was going to be made on the true summit, it was now or never.

A vertical drop prevented any possibility of heading directly to the true summit from the the N summit.  Lupe had to go around either the E or W side of the mountain to get to the connecting saddle.  Losing at least some elevation would be required no matter which route she chose.

Even though Jared had clearly advised approaching from the W, the E side was closer.  Might as well take a peek at what was involved in that direction.  Retreating NE next to a near vertical edge far enough to reach a spot with a partial view, what could be seen looked more challenging than SPHP was anxious to take on.  Hard to say for sure without losing even more elevation, but the first impression was listen to Jared.

Lupe now traveled W over to the 10,860 foot saddle leading to the NW ridge.  The view from here was still extremely rocky, but somewhat less daunting.

No way around it.  Clearly, Loopster was going to have to lose another 70 feet of elevation to get below a steep rock slope and around to the region where she could start up again toward the ridge connecting the N and true summits.

Even after losing the 70 feet, it wasn’t possible to completely avoid a rock hop across talus, but the situation then improved.  Coming at it from the W, by staying toward the S side of the slope leading up to the connecting ridge, Lupe found some vegetation among the rocks.  The scramble higher wasn’t bad at all.

Success!  Or was it?  Lupe made it to the connecting ridge between the S and true summits, but now what?  The true summit boulder was out of sight behind some other large boulders.  SPHP could see no safe way past them.  Every route looked either impossible, or fraught with danger without some real rock climbing skills.  Stymied!  After all this effort.

Could it be?  Was this the end?  Sure looked like it.  For several minutes, SPHP simply stared at the rock formations.  Going E was out.  Over was out.  The only possibility seemed to be to creep SW along a narrow shelf below a big overhanging rock to what looked like a dead end.  Nothing else made the least bit of sense.

Looper waited patiently.  SPHP finally ditched the backpack.  Absolutely no possibility of success lugging that thing along, and it might well cause a fall.  Game over.  Permanently.

Wait here, Loop.  I’m going to check out that shelf.  If it doesn’t lead to something we’re outta here.  Don’t know what else to do.  Don’t even much care for attempting this.

Be careful, SPHP!

Believe me, I will use my best little girl techniques.  Laugh all you want.  I’ll call you if by some miracle this seems to be panning out OK.

Creeping along the shelf, SPHP found that it actually went a little beyond the end of the overhanging rock.  Just past the overhang was a 90º turn where a different perpendicular rock 14 inches wide provided a ramp along the edge of a precipice.  The ramp led up to a much safer spot with a little room.  From there, it looked possible to continue higher.

Come, Lupe!  Don’t like it, but I think we can make this work.  Really have to be careful.  No room for error.  I’m going to hoist you up onto this rock ramp.  All you have to do is run up it to a safe spot and wait.

Loopster came, but she did not want to be hoisted.  Letting her attempt a leap, though, would be incredibly dangerous.  Uh-uh!  No way!  After several attempts at persuading the Carolina Dog to cooperate, she finally did.  Ever so carefully, SPHP lifted her onto the ramp.  She immediately trotted up to safety.

SPHP was next, but going up that narrow ramp was out of the question.  However, between the rock supporting the overhanging rock and the perpendicular rock forming the ramp, was a narrow opening of about the same width.  Squeezing through that crack, maybe SPHP could self-hoist the 6 or 7 vertical feet necessary to get up to where Lupe was?

Difficult, nerve-wracking, but it worked.

I think we’re almost there, SPHP!

Yeah, I do, too.  Keep going.

Continuing SW, Lupe trotted beneath the true summit boulder up to the highest rocks immediately W of it.  SPHP followed crouched or creeping as necessary.  Reaching Looper’s position, there it was – the big crack in the summit boulder!

The crack was widest toward the W side where the entrance was, and ran roughly E/W through the true summit boulder, dividing the rock into N and S halves, each about 10 feet tall.  Beneath the S half was a hollow area back toward the E big enough for Lupe to get into.  She explored it a couple of times, but didn’t want to stay in there.

At the entrance to the crack was a white tube which contained a damp, but still legible registry.  Ready for a break, SPHP took a few minutes to enter Lupe’s name, and read some of the other entries.  The earliest was by Bob & Russ Hamilton on 8-25-1983, who referred to the mountain as Antelope Peak.

In an undated entry, Jay P. of Riverton proposed the name Sheridan Peak, because by then the mountain had become known only as the Sheridan County High Point.  Bob Packard had also visited on 9-3-1997.  Bob left a detailed entry about this being the 122nd highest CoHP in the lower 48 states, and showing the ranking of other Wyoming CoHP’s as well.

Jared had written an entry only a few hours before Lupe got here.  His was the only one since 2015, which made SPHP think there must have been another registry that was now missing.

Upon finishing with the registry and returning it to its resting place, SPHP prepared for the attempt to get up on the true summit boulder.  Lupe would have to wait below, which was a worry in itself.  What if she decided she didn’t like it here and tried to leave by herself?  That part by the perpendicular rock with the ramp was so dangerous!  She might fall trying to get down.  Better make this quick.

SPHP ditched the camera, which would only get dashed repeatedly against the granite during the antics required to shimmy up the crack.

Loopster, listen carefully.  I’m going to try to get up on top.  You stay here.  Don’t move!  Not an inch!  Don’t go anywhere!  If I get up there, I’m only staying for a few seconds.  A quick look around, tap the high point, and right back down.  So, stay put!

In the crack, a little ledge about 1.5 feet up on the N half of the summit boulder provided an initial boost, making it possible to grab a rock wedged over the entrance to the crack, and the upper surface of the S portion of the boulder.  The rest was all will power gathering whatever strength could be mustered jamming and shimmying higher.

It was hard, very hard.  Limbs shook with effort.  Several attempts, and SPHP’s R leg started wanting to cramp.  Another attempt.  Yes!  Barely, but sweet success!  Sort of.  Not actually sweet.  SPHP was petrified.

SPHP!  You made it!  What’s it like up there?

Airy!

Scary?

That, too!  Terrifying!  Not much room up here.  Stay where you are.  I’m coming back down momentarily.

Ever so slowly and carefully, SPHP lowered back down into the crack.  Enormous relief when toes touched that little ledge way down near the bottom of the N half of the boulder.

So how was it, SPHP?  What were the views like?

Almost the same as from the N summit, I guess.  I could scarcely look at them.  Couldn’t pry my eyes away from the edge, so horrifyingly close on all sides.  When it comes to anything remotely like true mountaineering, I’m a real purist.  Pure coward, that is!  Never doing that again!

Well, thanks for being my personal representative, SPHP.  Glad to hear you had such a fabulous experience!  So that’s it?  Are we done?

Yeah, for sure.  Let’s go, but let me to go first.  It’s still dangerous!

The whole ascent process had to be reversed.  SPHP was aghast when Lupe didn’t wait to be grabbed and lowered to safety down by the ramp.  Instead, the nervous, impatient, but sure-pawed American Dingo snuck down all by herself and leapt to the precarious rock shelf below all on her own.

What an experience!  The world seemed a better place once Loop was back at the ridge connecting the two summits.  SPHP retrieved the backpack.  A couple of final photos, a few moments of calmer reflection, and it was Onward!  Puppy, ho!

6-27-20, 6:57 PM, back at the 10,860 foot saddle near the NW ridge – Would have been fun to return to the ever-so-relaxing and beautiful N summit of the Sheridan County High Point, but Lupe and SPHP were both tired, and weary or not, the need for speed was urgent.  Loopster had to get all the way back to Dome Peak (10,828 ft.), and up and over it before it got dark.  Not scrambling that thing in the middle of the night!

Leaving the 10,860 foot saddle by the NW ridge, Lupe traversed the same snowbank the giant deer fawns had been on to get over to solid ground again.  From there it was downhill most of the way to Dome Peak.

This time when Lupe got to the wall of rock near the base of Dome Peak, she went around the lower W end, instead of going over it.  Her second ascent went well considering that exhaustion was setting in.  A better route brought Loop to a connected series of grassy ramps that led higher, permitting her to avoid most of the scrambling on large talus.

By the time Lupe reached the upper S slopes, a new worry was creating additional urgency.  The weather had been perfect all day, but now, off to the S, a rain shower was heading for the Sheridan County High Point.  Thunder rumbled only a few miles away, and the sky over Dome Peak was already all gray.

Suddenly, thunder boomed overhead.  Lupe and SPHP instantly sought shelter by a boulder.  Couldn’t stay here too long, though, or the light would be gone.  Several minutes went by without any repeat.  Onward!

6-27-20, 9:01 PM, Dome Peak –  A chilly wind blew as SPHP helped Lupe up onto Dome Peak’s true summit boulder for the second time today.  Several feet NE of the boulder, SPHP noticed something missed during Loop’s first ascent, the Dome survey benchmark.

The need for speed had not abated.  Might storm at any moment.  Loop’s second visit atop the boulder was necessarily brief.  No time to look for marmots under the old fire lookout foundation this time, either.

Before Lupe even made it to the billboard perched along the NE edge of the summit, it started to rain.  Thunder rumbled, but not too close by.  Loop and SPHP took shelter beneath an overhanging rock close to the billboard, crouching uncomfortably on a slab of ice.  A terrible spot in the event of lightning, so close to the billboard’s massive metal support.

Just a squall.  10 minutes and the rain quit.  Lupe scrambled down to the level region 80 feet below the summit.  She’d made it over Dome Peak, a crucial success, but with little light to spare.  Not wanting to waste any of it, SPHP led her NW down the same steep grassy slope the Carolina Dog had come up so many hours ago.

At the saddle S of HP10480, Lupe did not return to the big ridge leading to Rock Chuck Pass.  Instead she continued NW down the broad open valley that would eventually get her to USFS Road No. 226.

Progress was fast, at first.  Eventually, a light-colored region appeared ahead.  With dusk deepening, it wasn’t until Lupe got close to it that SPHP realized she was approaching a vast boulder field.  Turning SW to avoid it quickly led into boggy terrain.  SPHP’s feet were soon soaking wet, as Looper sploshed through a vast lumpy wetland.

The Carolina Dog was pawing SPHP’s legs, begging to stop for a rest.  Almost too dark to see now anyway, so what difference did it make?  No longer any advantage to hurrying on.  A lone white boulder appeared amidst the swamp.  SPHP donned the blue plastic rain poncho, and sat down.  Weary, Lupe curled up on a small patch of drier ground at SPHP’s feet.  SPHP hunched over her, the poncho forming a protective tent as light rain began to fall.

Nearby, a stream could be heard trickling.  To the NW, lightning flickered in a deep gray sky.  Farther down the valley, a ragged black line marked the start of the forested region.  An orange dot glowed in the distance.  Must be a campfire somewhere close to Bruce Mountain.

The lightning was far away, no rumble of thunder.  Only the cool breeze could be heard whispering in the soggy wilderness.  Lupe didn’t stir.  20 minutes drifted by.  Although the lightning seemed closer, the rain quit.  The orange dot still glowed, a tiny beacon of hope in a black world.

Loopster, you ready?  Sorry, sweet puppy, but I can’t sit here all night on a rock in the middle of a giant bog.  We’ve got to keep going.

How much farther do we have to go, SPHP?

About a mile and a half down to USFS Road No. 226.  A long 3, maybe close to 4 miles back to the G6 after that.

Going to be a long night, isn’t it?

You said it!  But we knew it all along.  Our fate was sealed when we left Dome Peak the first time to head for the Sheridan County High Point.  Could have just turned back instead, but here we are.  C’mon, let’s go!

The soggy trek SW resumed, now aided by the weak beam of SPHP’s little flashlight.  The American Dingo pressed on looking for drier ground and a decent route lower.  Crossing numerous tiny streams, she finally got past the bog, reaching firmer terrain.  Turning NW again, Lupe roamed down a long slope, aiming for the glowing orange dot.  To the N, all those trickling streams joined forces.  For a while, Loop followed the S bank of the resulting larger creek.

The terrain steepened.  Boulders appeared.  The rushing stream plunged noisily down a series of small cascades.  The rocks became increasingly numerous and difficult to deal with.  What little flat land existed among them was usually boggy.  Lightning flashed, intermittent light rain fell, thunder rumbled in the distance.  Lupe persevered, but traveling slowly, losing lots of elevation.

Upon reaching the forest, the orange dot disappeared.  Among the first trees, the ground was better, permitting a faster pace, but deadfall soon began to appear, forcing Lupe to wander in search of ways over, under, or around it all.

The stream became a gushing, plunging torrent, constantly reinforced by small tributaries and seeping bogs.  Boulders the size of cars and trucks made it necessary to stay well S of its banks.  Rocks, trees, deadfall, bogs!  The steep descent went on and on.  This time it was SPHP that called a halt.  Dropping the backpack, SPHP laid on the ground.  Not at all adverse to stopping, Lupe curled up nearby, her wet fur glistening.

Give me 15 minutes, Loop.

Relax!  No big rush on my account, SPHP.  How much farther now?

To the road?  No clue.  So hard to tell in the night; it magnifies and distorts everything.  Seems endless, doesn’t it?  But it can’t be. 

Laying there in the forest in a spot that would be impossible to ever find or recognize again was one of those strange memorable night moments that sometimes occur in the mountains.  Breaking the otherwise deathly still silence, Woodchuck Creek, for that was what it had to be, roared like Niagara.  Shared exertion, uncertainty, experience and deep exhaustion produced an eerie sensation of profound togetherness, as if sharing some great secret here amidst the black, unseen unknown, illuminated only by the little flashlight’s feeble beam.

SPHP stirred.

Alright!  Let’s get to the road, Loop!

Down, down, forever down through a wilderness of trees, boulders, and dark slopes.  A giant snowdrift backed up Woodchuck Creek, producing a pond that had to be avoided.  Up and over the snow and a rock ledge, then down some more scrambling through giant rocks.

The terrain finally began to level out.  SPHP kept seeing the road ahead, but Lupe only came to fallen tree trunks.  At last she arrived at the edge of the forest.  A barely perceptible level line a bit higher than where Lupe was now was ahead.  This time, that had to be the road, didn’t it?

The open ground leading to it wasn’t the nice, easy field SPHP expected.  Another bog.  Figured!  Straight on through it, though.  The American Dingo led the way.

Woot!  Loopster stood on the road, grinning in the flashlight beam.  She’d made it!  No. 226!  Couldn’t be anything else.  2 miles at most from Dome Peak, which was forever ago.  Seemed like 10.  No worries now, though.  Well, maybe one, but it was still a good mile and a half away.  Lupe headed N on No. 226, the sky dripping a few raindrops, although any lightning and thunder had long since moved on.

The Carolina Dog was making tracks now, yet the night spell stretched mere minutes into eons.  At last, an unmarked side road went uphill to the L (NW).  Must be No. 268 going to Calvin Lake.  No. 226 curved lower and continued on.  0.5 mile later Lupe was standing on the S bank of the E Fork of the S Tongue River.  The final obstacle!

The first few feet of river bottom showed up clearly in the flashlight beam.  Not deep at all.  Beyond that, the river’s smooth surface stretched away over a black void beneath.  30 feet across?  Maybe something like that.  Possibly less, the way the night played mind games.  Lupe stood waiting for SPHP, no longer anxious to lead.

This same ford had looked like an easy wade way back this morning, a century or two ago.  Exhaustion and darkness combined to produce a sense of unease.  SPHP turned back, heading S toward the edge of the forest along the W side of the road.

Let’s rest, Loop.  Not as certain about this as I was.

SPHP took off the blue plastic Cookie Monster look-alike rain poncho, and spread it out on the ground, laying down with the backpack for a pillow.  Lupe curled up next to SPHP.  The dear Dingo was wet, but as warm as a furnace.

30 minutes dragged by.  Light rain set in again.  Sleep would not come.  SPHP’s feet were sore and wet.  The ground, hard and cold.  Everything ached.  Lupe grew tired of SPHP’s constant shifting, and wandered off.  That was the last straw.

Nothing to it!  The water couldn’t have been much more than a foot deep the entire way.  Lupe didn’t have to swim a stroke.  Without the slightest hesitation, the Carolina Dog had followed SPHP into the cold, black void, waded effortlessly across, and shaken herself off on the N bank.

Up on USFS Road No. 26, Loopster trotted E.  Less than 2 miles to go!  SPHP could scarcely walk, but plodded gingerly after her anyway.

In the nick of time!  10 minutes after Lupe reached the G6, the sky opened up and rain poured down.  Within the dry comfort of the G6, it was a soothing sound.  (End, 6-28-20, 3:52 AM, 44ºF)

6-28-20 – A gray day.  Continuously overcast, with periods of intermittent fog, rain, or mist.  Didn’t matter in the least.  Neither the American Dingo nor SPHP were in any shape to do much of anything, anyway.  How very fortunate that Lupe had gone on to the Sheridan County High Point from Dome Peak yesterday!  No doubt both were lost in the clouds today.

Between meals, Lupe snoozed peacefully, only occasionally venturing out of the G6 to bark at squirrels.  SPHP caught up the trip journal or napped.  By evening it was raining again.

6-29-20, 5:59 AM, 44ºF – Clouds clung to the mountains.  Wisps of fog drifted in the valleys.  The gloom was particularly dark toward the S & W where Lupe’s next adventures were to have taken place.  This Dingo Vacation could have been extended a couple more days, if the weather had cooperated, but given the circumstances, and with company due back at home before the 4th of July, well, this was it.  SPHP turned the key, the G6 sprang to life, and Loop was on her way.

Herds of deer and elk roamed the ghostly early morning fields.  Some took their chances running across the foggy highway.  Lupe barked like a Dingo possessed.  Even a couple of moose put in appearances, before the road dropped, snaking down out of the Bighorns.  From I-90, only the lowest foothills of the Bighorn Range were visible.  A steady mist kept the windshield wipers slapping.

6-29-20, 11:21 AM, 86ºF, Black Hills of South Dakota – Home again.  The lawn was brown, totally parched.  Not a drop of rain had fallen here.  Lupe’s first Dingo Vacation of the Year of Perfect Vision was over.  She’d finally broken the long peakbagging dry spell the new year had brought.  It had been a grand time, and great preparation for adventures yet to come.

Links:

Next Adventure                         Prior Adventure

Dome Peak, Bighorn Mountains, Wyoming (6-27-20)

9-3-01 Sheridan CoHP trip report by Dave Covill (Coney Lake route)

7-18-18 Sheridan CoHP GPS track by Daniel Mick (Coney Lake route)

Want more Lupe adventures?  Choose from Lupe’s Summer of 2020 Dingo Vacations to Wyoming, Utah & Montana Adventure Index, Dingo Vacations Adventure Index or Master Adventure Index.  Or subscribe free to new Lupe adventures.