As with many of the best discoveries, the Frostop wasn’t a planned destination. It just appeared in the distance, its giant rotating root beer float beckoning in the highway distance.
We had already eaten (in my favorite town Victor, Idaho) but Ashton was far enough away that Joe had room for a milkshake. I, with my Four Hour Body diet, could have no milkshake, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to experience the Frostop, even if I had to drink hot tea to do it.
Joe loved his cherry shake and moaned about the extreme misfortune that we’d already eaten. The woman behind the counter was so lovely, sharing all the information she had about Yellowstone trail we were looking for, and Joe promised we’d be back. At first I was doubtful we’d actually back, but he’s talked about it so incessantly ever since, I’m starting to think you might get a full report. Also, we spent the drive doing Joe’s favorite pasttime, which I call Easter egg hunting: scanning all the old farms for rusting cars (and trucks!) Joe can restore. I’m pretty sure that, coupled with the allure of the Frostop, will take us back to Ashton before this adventure’s over.