Yee-haw! Writing about Cody without a "yee-haw" thrown in must be illegal. It's a rodeo-mad kind of place, and the bikers like it, too. A little rough-and-tumble but cute as an engraved silver button.
We plunked down in a wee cabin at the Buffalo Bill Village for the night then headed out for some Mexican food and an oldies concert for the motorcycle crowd in front of the Irma Hotel. Did I mention Buffalo Bill stayed there?
The best part of making camp in Cody was the Buffalo Bill Village staff. The cabins are only open for the summer -- winter's too snowy -- and it is fully staffed by retirees who come up from Florida and points elsewhere, park their RVs behind the cabins and greet guests. It was like staying with 30 of your closest grandparents. They really looked after us and our two favorites, Hank and Brenda, even pulled out pictures of their RV. We half thought they'd invite us back for a glass of punch later.
Signs like this one were in many hotel bathrooms along our route. Motorcyclists are everywhere and they like to keep their bikes shiny. But using hotel towels is a no-no:
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