I should apologize. I wasn’t able to stay in touch as much as I wanted to on the trek. Among the billions of civilized comforts missing in central Wyoming are water, pay phones and satellite signals. I finally gave up trying to file reports after climbing to the top of a hill and not getting any cell phone signal. Also, my laptop is full of dirt.
Here’s what I wrote during the days we went missing. I'll try to post in order as I rescue the notes from the laptop.

11:30 p.m., Wednesday, July 30
Jackson Campground
This place BITES. It’s windier than a Republican convention. At any one time, about 25 percent of the landscape is moving horizontally. While eating dinner (excellent stew) a small praying mantis landed on the rim of my plate.
Right now, I’m in the bottom of my sleeping bag. It protects me from the wind. But there’s a coyote a couple hundred yards away mindlessly aggrieved about something. From the sound of it, it’s probably love. It’s been howling for hours. I hope it chooses Rick first. Jessica is asleep in the back of the 4-runner with the doors locked because we weren’t able to convince her that snakes don’t know how to operate door latches.
No signal. More tomorrow. Or not.
P.S. The stars in the desert are—I don’t know. Someone pried the lid off God’s jewelry box. I can't describe it.
P.S.S. This place really bites.