After stopping in West Yellowstone and checking on RV Park prices (a minimum of $50 per night with hook-ups and kid tax), we decided to drive 13 miles west to a campground that accepts Passport America. We set up, Mike started working, I took a nap, and the kids went in search of the advertised rec room. What Miranda and Data found was a dusty room with passed-down equipment—foosball machine with mostly headless players, a skee-ball game that doesn’t register the 10 point hole unless a hand flicks the switch, an old TV with a huge library of VHS tapes, a couple of player pianos, and a ping pong table that was in good shape but quite crowded by other covered equipment. As far as the kids were concerned, they’d hit the jackpot. We hung out at the RV park for the evening, planning to head into Yellowstone after Mike’s business phone call the next day.
Our journey into Yellowstone took us through 3 states—our “home base” was located in Idaho, the West Yellowstone entrance is in Montana, and the main portion of Yellowstone National Park is in Wyoming. Although we saw many families taking group shots at the Welcome to _______ signs, we opted to skip this activity. We did, however, add the Wyoming sticker to our trailer door map.