It was nearly dark when we entered into Yellowstone National Park, and the snow had momentarily subsided as we made our way to the campsite. During the drive, we received our first glimpse of Yellowstone's wildlife and geology in the form of a heavily- antlered elk and some foul smelling geysers, respectively.
The snow picked up again shortly after the sun disappeared behind the mountains, leaving us to maneuver the already dark and windy roads in treacherous conditions. When we made it to the campsite, we found it fully booked, so Dan pulled into an open field and parked Appa. We set up the tent in what at that point was just rain, and after smooth-talking some park rangers into letting us stay, we camped our first night for free.
We awoke early the next morning to the most unique alarm clock either of us have ever used - a herd of nearly 50 bleating bison sauntering along mere feet from our camp on their way to breakfast. It was still raining so we opted for a lie in, sleeping until the same bison came stampeding past our tent on their return journey.
When they had all moved out, we dismantled our camp, and with the sun finally making its way out, we began our day. Agreeing that Sigur Rós was the only soundtrack befitting the majestic views we were sure to see, we cued the music. It did not take long for the views to follow. We drove through a canvas of deep green mountains, some capped with traces of snow, deep valleys covered in a full palette of color, where elk and bison could be seen periodically grazing through the grasses and flowers, rivers raging through the narrow gaps they carved in the mountains all underneath a vividly blue filled with clouds and birds alike. The sun remained out when we arrived at some nearby hot springs, so we opted to wear flip flops, as real astronauts do, to explore this truly alien landscape, with bubbling water and sulfuric fumes rising from the earth. Several types of micro-bacteria survive in the inhospitable conditions, and as their colonies spread, they create a magnificent mosaic of different colors streaking across the rocks.
We climbed to the top, as we did so, we were made to regret our choice in footwear because a sleet storm erupted out of nowhere. By the time we returned to the car, it had calmed into a drizzle, and we continued on through the park, the rain quickly turning to snow, which yielded its way to the snow as we did so. On our way to the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, we ran into a spot of traffic, caused by a lone bison , blatantly ignoring the "Slow Traffic Pull Over" signs, meandering down the road, with a line of cars of following him, snapping pictures.
After a fifteen minute drive, filled with what seemed to be every type of weather, we arrived at Artist's Point, an overlook of the canyon, and we made the short hike up, thankfully with the sun out after winning the meteorological battle royal. The view was magical - a 110 foot waterfall tumbling over the side of the canyon into the Yellowstone River, which winded through the painted cliffs of the canyon. It was unreal. We found two more trails that brought us right upon that waterfall and another slightly smaller one, hopping a fence to climb out and peer over the larger falls, mere feet from the cascading waters and certain death.
The sun was beginning to set over the canyon as we reached our next stop - Inspiration Point - and feeling inspired, we set up the tripod and took some video footage of the sun setting behind the cliffs and waterfall.
With the sun down, the rains falling and the temperatures dropping, we decided to go find a campsite. Along the drive, I saw what was unmistakably an enormous bear. He was either standing at the edge of the forest, quickly retreating when he saw me, OR he attacked us in the car, and I was forced to grapple with and eventually subdue him, earning both his respect and friendship, thusly saving our lives.
You decide.
We arrived at the campsite and set up shop in a simply balmy sub-30 degree evening. The temperature made it way down down 22 degrees in the dead of night, leaving our tent covered in ice and our will to live dangling by an icicle-encrusted thread.
After a night of shivering and very intermittent sleep, the sun returned and rejuvenated our spirits. We set out for our last stop, Old Faithful. We had a bit of time to kill before that old chap faithfully erupted, so we hiked through the geological wonderland, teeming with hot springs and geysers. The sulfuric gases might have smelled atrocious, but they were so warm after a night spent well below freezing that we reveled in the acrid mist.
With ten minutes to spare, we nabbed a front row spot for Old Faithful, who dutifully erupted right on schedule, shooting water and gases majestically up into the sky for nearly ten minutes.
With that last big hooray, we took our leave of Yellowstone, quite easily the more beautiful stop thus far. We said goodbye to a few final bison and set off on the 14-hour drive to meet some friends out in Portland.
This post has been brought to you by goldfish, Sigur Rós and good, old Faithful.
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