Old Faithful & Farewell

Tying up some loose ends from Yellowstone: I didn’t ever post the iconic Old Faithful photograph. I did take the photograph, though. If you go all the way to Yellowstone, you kinda hafta take the photograph.

So here it is:

What else? What have I forgotten? We took long walks around the boardwalk at both Upper Geyser Basin and the Back Basin trail at Norris. There was a lot of activity at the time. None of the geysers were in their full throttle mode, like Old Faithful which shoots over 100 feet in the air, but most of them were sending off pretty large flumes and spurts.

The boardwalk at Norris takes you out over what looks like a salt-plain, except for all the steam and ruptures and bubbling and sulfur smell. That’s a really foreign feeling place, out on the far edge. I didn’t take many pictures, because I was focusing on walking quickly so we could not be there anymore. My feeling is that after you’ve seen copious amounts of steaming hot water spurt out of the ground, there is not a great deal to derive from the experience of going to see more hot water spurt from the ground.

But I shut it. I did. I went along to all the geysers they wanted to gawk at, cus I know that although I’ve seen a cuttlefish and stared at it for a long time, I’m still fascinated by cuttlefish and would like to see more. If steamy flumes in treacherous places fascinate other people, who am I to judge? But I’m pretty much good now. I don’t need to see another geyser, ever again, all good here.

Some random picture, then one last thing and we’ll call this vacation a wrap.

girl with whole world

Bison dudes

Did I mention we saw a lot of waterfalls?

We saw a lot of deer, too.

One of the stags came really close.

 I  really liked the trip. It was kind of where I chose to go, foregoing another whack at Disneyland or someplace tropical. I wanted to hike. Bill Bryson, (or the person who recommended Bill Bryson) got me in gear, and I’m glad we went cus it was good. I was eager to be home again after a week, but a little part of me stayed there to meet me when I go back again.

So that last evening, I kinda pressed to drive through the Lamar Valley again, allegedly to ‘search for critters’, but that wasn’t it, really. I would have been thrilled to spot a moose, but we did get our fill of pronghorn and bison and bears, Oh my!

Just didn’t want to spend the last evening eating something decadent in the hotel dining room. I wanted to go, to see Yellowstone and be out in her before all the time was gone.

And we didn’t have a big deal sighting, but we saw herds grazing out on soft-red fields before the sun went down. And I saw the shadows advance, and turn the valleys purple, and the highest hills retain light the longest, brushed by the closing kiss of the sun.

And Yellowstone was mine, all mine to try and capture through the window. Is it truth or human nature that a place seems most perfect and beautiful the very moment you have to let it go?