Yellowstone

I kept on headed north, stopping on the way in Daniel, Wyoming, where the old mountain men held their rendezvous for a few years.  The cottonwood trees are really big along the river bottom, and the grass is tall and ever so green.  It's not hard to imagine those hardy men having a heck of a party with the traders, Indians, gamblers and hangers on.  After sitting a bit, I headed on up to Jackson, the Grand Tetons, and Yellowstone.

Jackson is crowded, noisy, and well visited by many people.  Getting through town was a chore, and it was a relief to be headed towards the Grand Tetons through the National Elk Preserve.  The grasslands spread out to the east, and the mountains appear to the west, and finally you give up looking at anything but the mountains, that great gray spiny ridge of mountains with snow fields at the tops, a surge of granite that captures the eye and holds it.  My only complaint was and is that they put the highway too far away from the mountains.  If I could just get a little closer, I would be so much happier!  I stopped at the visitor center in the park, and ambled around reading the history of the park.  Like every great park, there was controversy in its establishment, and controversy over who climbed what first.  I'm always reminded of the competing claims of righteousness by the opposing sides of the Lincoln County War in New Mexico, where each side clamors that they were the "best" and most righteous.  And the truth, of course, can't be found, though it surely lies somewhere other than where either side claims.

From the Grand Tetons, I headed into Yellowstone National Park.  I first visited Yellowstone in 1972, and I enjoyed it then.  Since then, each succeeding trip has been less enjoyable, and this time was to be no different.  In August, the Park is full to bursting.  Parking areas at the major and minor attractions are overflowing.  It is hot, and not all tempers are restrained. Along the way, I encountered this charming little trailer.

I wanted to go to Old Faithful, to be faithful I suppose, and encountered a cloverleaf intersection.  That's right: to get to Old Faithful, you have to figure out a highway intersection with a cloverleaf and overpass!  I did it, to arrive in what must be a 40 acre parking lot, no shade except maybe 10 pine trees, and more Harley Davidson motorcycles than you can count.  I didn't try.  Harley Davidson riders do not believe that parking directions apply to them, so they were on sidewalks, striped areas, traffic lanes, crosswise, everywhere.  And apparently they can neither stop nor go without revving the engine several times.  Why is that?  They are like an old man clearing the phlegm form his throat every few minutes.  Get a cure!  I am not a fan of these riders who are noisy and self-centered.

I went into the Old Faithful visitor center with the idea that I might get a sandwich.  That notion was soon dropped, as the lunchroom looked like 15 pounds of apples in a ten pound sack.  With lots of aggressive behavior going on by those apples, I thought a ride to somewhere else to eat was a good idea.  So I pointed my front wheel to West Yellowstone, and the West Yellowstone KOA where I had made a reservation on the recommendation of the fellow in Rangely.

On the way, I was caught in a two mile traffic jam, the resultant mess from a woman rear ending a motorcyclist.  By the time I got to the accident, it had cleared off, but the air-cooled boxer engine I was riding did not enjoy the sitting-in-line.  I was very close to overheating, and so was the bike.  I saw some buffalo on the way, which is nice, but apparently they had seen enough motorcycles during the day that mine was not particularly attractive to them.  I rode past unmolested.

Yellowstone is, of course, a crown jewel of the National Park system, and that is why people go there.    I can't blame them, but I just don't enjoy being with that many people at once.  I admit I wonder what it would be like to do a VIP trip there, with rooms in the famous lodges reserved, and time to hike around a bit and maybe fly fish.  But I don't think that will happen, and so I just enjoyed my memories, plus what I saw this time around.  Good stuff.