national park road trip. week 3.

It's Monday again. Last time I posted it wasn't actually Monday. Now it's actually Monday…that is, if I can get this up in one sitting, which isn't likely. But it's raining outside, so maybe.

So we wrapped up week 2 with a spat in Bozeman. Who really knows what the measurement of a spat is but it just came into my head and I had to use it. That's pretty much what happens when I'm writing. Sorry bout it.

Anyway, Bozeman was great. A nice break from the hard ground and bear induced night terrors. But after Bozeman we headed right back into that pesky bear territory, with even colder, harder ground than before…more on that later.

Last Monday started the Yellowstone National Park chapter of our trek. Four and a half days of pretty cool shit. Well most of it was cool. Again with the hoards of people though. National Parks, don't you know you're supposed to deny entry to anyone who doesn't truly appreciate nature, anyone who sleeps in a lodge and doesn't hike at all and throws coins in the geysers and eats nachos and pizza for every meal.

Says the girl with the nacho cheese currently on her fingers. Teehee.

No, I know summer time is obviously high profile time for these places. That just ups the ante in the race for tent space. Because quite a few people actually do camp in these parks. Unfortunately, Wendy and I are not the only ones. Poo.

Again we got a late start out of town on the way to the park. And again we arrived to an entirely full park. So we asked the ranger at the entrance what our options were. As we turned the car around to exit where we had just so excitedly entered, we saw the impending doom of an angry ass thunderstorm headed our way. We drove up to Eagle Creek Campground, which is just outside of Gardiner near the northern entrance to the park. As we climbed and climbed and climbed, the storm drew closer and closer. When we finally made it to the mostly empty campground at the top of this mountain, all we could think about was getting blown away, struck by lightning, and eaten by bears…simultaneously. So we decided to check out our next option, which was an RV camp down the way that had some space for tents.

We walk in the office door just as the storm cracks open. It begins pouring as we find out that this lady's got some tent space for us, but it's gonna cost us $32.00. She knows her tiny tent spaces are a hot commodity in this summertime Yellowstone overflow area. Well played lady, well played. At least we can have wifi while we sit outside the laundry room at night listening to an old couple work through their marital issues. I mean, I wasn't listening. Geez. What kind of person do you think I am?

After staking claim on a site we headed out into the mayhem to grab a beer and figure out our plan for the next few days. We were not about to set up our tent in the middle of the second coming. Seriously, these summer storms are just a little outrageous. Don't they know it's July, sunny and 75 is my request, por favor.

After our beer, we headed out to the Mammoth Hot Springs. The rain had abated just a bit, enough for us to work our way up with the masses to the top of the lower terraces. It abated just enough for me to think I didn't need to wear my raincoat. And then of course, it broke open again while my car and raincoat were away in the distance, laughing at my wet rattiness.

Here are some weathery pics for ya:

After the hot springs we went for a long drive to catch the Tower Fall and maybe spot some wildlife as evening approached. Apparently that's when they're most active ya know? The wildlife, not the waterfalls. Those are pretty active all the time. Except in California where the drought is ending all life, at least according to my newsfeed.

I digress. 

Here are some photos of what we found along the way:

That last one is a petrified tree. It's gated off. In case anyone wanted to try and run away with it or something I suppose. 

We tried to continue driving west and far on into the northern part of the park but ya see, the lightning was starting to strike just a little too close to my vehicle. And I'm not really into that. So we turned around to head back.

Oh I forgot to tell you about my new friend. His name is Lonely Buffalo and I'm convinced he was trying to bring an end to his lonely life the day we happened upon him. 

My only reason for believing this to be true is that we found him ambling down the middle of the road, on two occasions, with about an hour gap in between. He desperately wanted someone to come racing around the corner, ending his lonely misery.

Either that, or the buffalo sheriff was convinced he'd had too much to drink and was forcing him through a sobriety test. I'd say he's doin' a pretty fine job. Well, I suppose he's getting better with practice. He's a little off in the first one. No one wants to encounter a drunk buffalo. So we took some pics and headed out on our way.

Also, learned later in the week that there is no difference between buffalo and bison. Apparently, bison is just the more "scientific" term. Although the Mormon brother of my couch-surfing host recently would beg to differ. He claims buffalo don't exist. There are only bison. To each his own, I suppose.

I prefer the word buffalo. It's just more fun and I pretend they have the Veggie Tales Water Buffalo song playing in the background when I happen upon them in the forest alone, like this:

Perhaps they're not water buffalo but I'd much rather have a fun song in my head and pretend they are friendly creatures instead of envisioning how they could kill me if they really wanted to. Because all over the park we would see signs like this:

Because, as you can see in the photos, they certainly appear tame. And you think you can get close to them to get your stupid tourist photo, and then they gore you, and you're dead and sad but at least you have a close up photo of a buffalo goring you to go on top of your coffin at your funeral.

Morbid. But true.

Do not approach buffalo.

There are also signs warning not to approach elk. But I did that. I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it.

He was a 12-pointer. Do you even know what that means?!

Yeah, I didn't either until a gentleman was making an incredulous comment beside me, and then I googled it.

It really just means that he gets all the ladies because he's got a nice rack. Bulls use their antlers to spar over females. Bigger rack means more chance of victory. I suppose that's how it often goes.

Except for this guy seemed to have a really small body. Like his antlers just grew too quickly and his body couldn't catch up. I would say he'll grow into them but apparently they lose them every year, which I just learned. I also learned the size has to do with metabolism. This fool must be a lean, mean, sparring machine. Check him out:

He's still got the velvety goodness on them, which means they're still growing too. You go boi.

We also caught a bison coming off a nice dip in the river:

As well as a few family of elk and a pronghorn:

That's about the extent of our wildlife viewing for the week, oh wait…we also caught some mountain goats after climbing up Mt. Washburn:

I must admit, being that close to wild animals although rather thrilling, is also quite terrifying. You really have no idea what they might do if they consider themselves to be threatened.

Luckily we made it out of there alive.

Wendy and I nearly got to sparring ourselves on Tuesday morning though. And not over a bull either. You often come to blows when you spend this kinda time in this kinda close proximity with only one other person. So instead of eating each other alive, we spent a day apart.

In bear country.

Good choice ladies. Good choice.

We both bought bear spray don't you worry. But we also both ignored every warning and sincere discouragement regarding hiking alone.

And we both went hiking. Alone.

I was pretty scared for the first mile or so, and then it wore off. I was rockin' a bear bell and I had my iPod blaring out of my side pocket. So with bear spray cocked and ready, I set off on my 11 mile jaunt to the top of Observation Peak.

I picked many a wildflower and managed to leave my camera case at the top of the mountain. I'm happy to say those were the only casualties of the day though. So that's good.

Aside from the solo hike in bear country, I also hit up the Norris Geyser Basin and the Brink of the Lower Falls. Pretty cool shit. See for yourselves:

After the descent to the lower falls I was utterly pooped so I spent some time writing postcards at the cafeteria, making eyes with the cutie bussing tables who was much too young for me.

In the early evening I decided to head back to see if Wendy had made it home alive. She hadn't. At least not yet. After chillin' in my hammock for a bit, I decide to head out in search of the bathroom in our new campground. Oh, I forgot to mention, we had another race for tent space Tuesday morning. We were successful in nabbing a gently sloping campsite in between two families with small children, one with a teen who likes chopping things with his ax. Perhaps not the most desirable spot, but you can't afford to be picky in the race for tent space. I did get invited to a marshmallow roasting by an 8-year-old so that was quite nice. 

Shortly after I began my journey to the bathroom, Wendy pulls up with a trio of elderly folk. The older gentleman rolls down his window and calls to me, "we've got a package for you!" Little did he know what a major buffer he played in the reunion of two gnashing females. Fortunately we had the day to cool off, but that initial interaction after coming back from a fickle morning ready to fist fight, well that's always awkward right? 

Thank you old man, for not only bringing Wendy home safe, but for helping to dull the potential for tension before dinner that night.

Wednesday Wendy and I climbed Mt. Washburn, to a summit of 10,243 feet. Nothing in Yellowstone is ugly. Not even a 1,200 foot incline over 3 miles.

After Washburn we headed over to Fishing Bridge and Yellowstone Lake where I took an awesome nap on a couch in the lobby of the lake lodge. Check out that completely unintentional alliteration!

After a quick snooze, we took off for another hike…this one on the Elephant Back Trail. Who knows why it was named that. The trail on a map looked nothing like an elephant's back to me. But whatevs. We pit stopped on the bridge to drink our coffee before hitting the trail:

From the bridge we hit the trail…again:

The end of this hike marked the end of our energies. So we headed home to drink beer and smoke sausages. Our standard evening routine.

Thursday was geyser day. And it was also a day of mixed moods regarding planning where we would be for my birthday. At first we were gonna drive back to Missoula because we had people there we could celebrate with. And Missoula is just awesome. But in reality, the drive time and gas money just weren't worth it. So we decided we would drive to Jackson Friday and figure it out from there. My only stipulation was that we be in a town. Not in a tent.

So back to Geyser day. We started by hitting up the Midway Geyser Basin so we could see the Grand Prismatic Spring. Pretty mesmerizing stuff:

We were really hoping a surprise helicopter would swing by at this most opportune time and swoop us up so we could catch an image like this:

Unfortunately, we were largely unsuccessful in our high hoping. Good thing there are postcards for that.

From the Midway, we ambled on over to Old Faithful. And we got there just in time. No waiting around for 90 minutes for us.

Although she was pretty cool, the whole thing was just too much. Amphitheater seating. People with popcorn. It was like we were at the cinema, or in the midst of an amusement park. The whole thing was pretty weird. Thousands of people showing up to watch some hot water shoot out of the ground every 90 minutes for eternity. Pretty nuts.

We walked the boardwalk to check out all the other less notable geysers, the red headed stepchildren of the geyser family so to speak.

Last one looks like a goofy monster. I like him.

After geysers we drove out to the west thumb of the lake and spent some time chatting on the beach.

Spent one more frigid night in Yellowstone before heading to Jackson Friday morning. Seriously, it got below freezing. There was ice on my car and frost in my hammock. Middle of summer Yellowstone. C'mon.

We arrived in Jackson mid day and sat down to figure out what the heck we were doing for the next few nights. We had nowhere to stay and every place in Jackson costs over a $100 bucks a night. And there are only two active couchsurfing hosts in Jackson. I sent out a message to the two of them and then looked up the next closest town. Idaho Falls. There appear to be three active couchsurfing hosts there so I message all three of them.

Low and behold I get a response almost immediately.

Sam Hancock is his name and he's offering us a 32 foot trailer for the next three nights as well as a bout of huckleberry picking for my birthday adventure. Um, yes, we'll take it!!

So we drive on over to Idaho Falls, which is about 90 miles away, and we meet Sam and take a tour of our double wide in the front yard of The Ghettos (Sam's self-proclaimed neighborhood name). He takes us out to a nice bday eve dinner at The Celt where I shovel some shepherd's pie down my throat and toss back far too many birthday shots of Fireball. It was on special, what do you expect?!

Here's us…just before midnight.

The next day marks not only my 27th birthday, but my first encounter with huckleberry picking. I'd say it was a huge success as I picked the most. Neener neener. And we got to have a most lovely cheesecake with huckleberry compote a little later in the day.

After a nice nap, and some lovely cheesecake, Wendy and I decide to try and head out for a night of dancing:

Instead we end up eating way too much food at the only restaurant that's open past 10 on a Saturday night. Not only does everything close by 10 on a Saturday night, everything is closed on Sunday. Everything.

Luckily we found one coffee shop and one laundromat that were open so we could handle our business before saying goodbye to Idaho Falls this morning. We are now here in Grand Teton National Park where it is raining. Hence the ability to write this absurdly long weekly update of this outrageous adventure.

Until next week, toodles folks.

Go take a nap now. I'm sure my long-windedness has really taken it outta ya.