|I didn't find summer on its solstice until I glided down the western slope of the Sierras into the Sacramento Valley where it was 90 degrees. The blustery cold had swept me along through southern Montana and into Idaho where I'd huddled for the night before being buffeted across Nevada and over Donner Pass. Lonesome George and I were happy to disembark in the warm evening air of home at the end of our long day of driving. Lonesome George joined me in my travels in Medora where his namesake had been a longtime photo op who hung around the entrance to Theodore Roosevelt National Park. George is taken with California but he and Ursa and I are biding our time until our next great adventure under the Big Sky. Thanks for joining me on this year's Great Bison Quest.