Woke up to a chilly, gorgeous sunrise at West Yellowstone and fixed a top-notch campfire breakfast of homefried potatoes and eggs. We were off the ground by 9:00 am, saying good=bye to Muffin, the FBO pooch, as we departed. Rob did some serious mountain flying today: only two hours to Johnson Creek, but navigating the mountain passes at low enough altitudes to keep my headaches at bay was his goal, and he was a champ. It was great flying weather -- just got a bit lumpy around Stanley, and there was a forest fire near Sulphur Creek that permeated the cabin of the plane. But we landed handily here at this backcountry paradise. Nothing much has changed since our visit last summer, except the new freezer.

Paul was out on his ATV as usual, moving the sprinklers that keep this strip so lush. While Michael explored the abandoned mine, we took the courtesy van to Yellow Pine for the obligatory burger. Nikkie runs the joint, and actually lives in Yellow Pine all year round, one of 25 hearty winter residents. She makes quilts which she sells on Craigs List, so I'm gonna have to look for them.

Met some nice folks here, including Donna, a fellow cancer-survivor, who flies a Citabria while her significant other, Dennis, flies his converted tailwheel Tri-Pacer alongside. They live in Cottage Grove, and just came to the Twin Oaks pancake breakfast for the first time last week, and I'm sure we'll see them again.

Dinner's done, the dishes are washed, the sun has fallen behind the mountains adjacent the strip, and the mosquitoes have decided I'm delectable. Here comes another plane -- can't say it's crowded here, about a dozen so far, but I don't expect too many more tonight. Heard it was below freezing last night -- that should surprise Michael in the morning.

We've promised Michael sourdough pancakes at the Pancake House in McCall -- then on to Boise to drop him off, and we'll head west again on our last leg.