Day Ten

Remember that book I told you about yesterday? Finished it in one sitting. I recommend it for anyone camping, on vacation, or out in the wilderness. Montana 1948. Thanks Jan!

I got up at six this morning and moved my campsite to the other side of the park. Skies were clear and I drove to the grand canyon of Yellowstone where I hiked for roughly seven miles and the canyon’s brim. Hiking alone in Yellowstone is a trip. I have never been so cautious about reading tracks and droppings, checking the skies, and checking the contents of my bag. The simple fact that around any corner can be some hungry beast is a bit intimidating. A small bird snapping a branch would halt my progress. In Yellowstone I have a very healthy almost paranoid respect for mans fragility and nature’s power. On my drive back from the canyon the weather started to turn but I had to stop for a grizzly bear sighting. The thing was enormous, my pictures didn’t really pan out because my lens was totally spotted with rain. I returned to camp and rushed to build a fire to get dinner going before I would be marooned in my tent. I hid in my sleeping bag from the pounding rain and cold for a few hours praying I would fall asleep and wake up tomorrow to clear skies. The weather had gone from bearable to malicious, and quite frankly was no longer fun. Just as I had had enough, the skies opened up so I walked down to the lake where I did some push-ups and then some pull-ups from a tree, and immediately felt better. I’ll have to remember this little remedy in future tests. Tomorrow morning I will leave Yellowstone and head to eastern Wyoming where hopefully I’ll find some heat.

Day Nine

Tonight I write next to a roaring campfire after a dinner of grilled cheese and turkey sandwiches toasted on my fire. Because of the temperature, I am sitting literally one foot away from the fire in full winter gear, luckily I brought some. today I read in the newspaper that Yellowstone had the coldest temperatures in the nation this weekend. I guess someone forgot to turn on summer down here. This morning I visited the geysers with some friends I made last night around the campfire. They had been to Yellowstone before and served as both guides and transportation throughout the park. Old Faithful was faithful as always and our group disbanded after lunch. The geysers were an incredible mixture of color and power. There are tons of them within the park and they are all unique. Some are burping mudpits, some are boiling perfect cyans, and others are just plain showing off for the tourists. I retreated from the weather for a few hours in my tent to nap and catch up on the newspaper. Tonight looks like an opportunity to start a new book Jan Praxel in Spokane let me borrow. The skies are now clear and I have a couple hours left in my campfire to put a good dent in Montana 1948. Tomorrow I will venture to the other side of the park where I will spend the remainder of my Yellowstone visit.

Day Eight

Friends, I write tonight at peace knowing that in the snowy wilderness I was able to light a fire successfully and most likely will survive Yellowstone, as I write, it is currently snowing on my tent. Today was absolutely amazing. I have never encountered such beauty at such magnitude. The colors, the mountains, the heavens-- the sheer expansiveness is both stunning and overwhelming at times. As I drove through the park, it seemed every turn had some fantastic feature: geysers, hot springs, rock faces, green valleys, herds of animals, even a lone bear trudging up a mountain side. In this place I have felt true joy, the kind that makes you smile uncontrollably and hyperventilate from the depths of your stomach. God’s creation is good in Wyoming. I think everyone should visit this place alone to experience and ponder the grandness of the land, and then again later with loved ones to share. Tonight the temperature is bone chillingly cold and my spirits are high. The weather hid the mountain peaks today. Feeling somewhat disappointed did not last long as a calmness rolled through me. There was a strange satisfaction with not knowing how high the mountains really went, like nature was giving me a tease through the grey sheets of clouds saying, “ If you really want to know, you’ll have to come up and find out for yourself.” If there wasn’t any mystery in this, we would probably stop looking. Perhaps when I return.