In early June, friend Jack Kline and I headed out to Medora and camped in the south unit of Teddy Roosevelt National Park.

Our purpose was to take some photographs in the park.  Jack is a real photographer; I am a point-and-shoot kind of guy who wouldn't know his aperture from a hole in the camera.

As we were unloading our camping equipment, Jack had all the cooking stuff.  I was responsible for the tent and sleeping bags.  Alas, while remembering the tent, I forgot the poles.  Jack was complimentary: "You've improved over last year when you forgot both the tent and poles."  As Dan Quayle said, "What a terrible thing it is to lose one's mind."

We stayed at the Cottonwood campsite [middle left on the map] and took the circular 25-mile drive around the park toward evening and again early in the morning.

Here, doing his own rendition of Loudon Wainwright III's greatest hit, is Pete the Prairie Dog.

Pete's twin, Pat, poses in Prairie Dog Town, of which there are several in the park.

Jack finds the best scenes.

In the middle right of the photo is a petrified tree stump.  Jack says it's been rubbed smooth by critters, mostly buffalo, over the years.

Speaking of buffalo, a herd of more than 100 has free reign in the park.

The panorama is awesome as you look east from one of the highest elevations inside the park.

The lens doesn't quite capture the depth of the valley.

In the wee hours, as luck would have it, the rains came.  Jack moved into the car where the cramped, hard space kept him from getting any sleep, while I pulled the tent awning over my sleeping bag to keep dry.  Around day break, I heard this loud snorting sound.  It was very close and conjured up the image of a humongous hog.  When I pulled back the awning, I thought I was in Jurassic Park.

This furry dude was twelve feet from my air mattress and responsible for the snorts.  I sneaked away and got my camera.  I snapped away until two of the bulls started whirling around, head-butting each other.  Then I got the heck out of there.

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