After relaxing in the rustic lobby, designed for weary tourists, we flooded out with the crowds, jockeying for position on the benches forming a wide arc around the timeless geyser. As 6:02, eruption time, approached, people with iPads, iPhones, and camcorders prepared to digitally encode and imprint into their memory, its first blast of water. 6:04: nothing. 6:07 puff, puff chug, chug. Not even a spew. "Oh, with our luck, it won't blow..." several among the crowds moan. A little girl asks her mom if it REALLY works. "Where does the water come from?", another child asks? 6:10 more puffs, a spew..."OOOOH, here it comes!!" Buttons depress, the perfect shot! "Ack! False start!" More silence. Some folks seem irritated, restless. "If a human actor put on such a show, the crowd would thin", I think. "It's a dud!!" I consisder singing "God Bless America" to break the suspense--the monotony--the discomfort of breathing in unison with strangers.
I never garner the courage to intone....alone. But still, "God Bless America!" My song remains squeezed inside me, like the water and steam within my Lady, Old Faithful.
Finally, almost 18 minutes late, Old Faithful begins her chug! Poof! Vavoom! Like your child before your eyes: diapers to diamond engagement rings: Overnight, seemingly. She shot up higher and higher. A true monument! A testimony to her Creator's faithfulness! A reward for faithful tourists! She shoots out of my view. I stand back hoping not to trip over a person, personal belongings like our barely used child carrier, all while maintaining my iPad focused on recording the event, but not missing it "live" either!
As I type this, we've spotted Elk. They're bountiful in Yellowstone, yet create a traffic jam every time!! I give thanks that we're not inured to the glory of an 8 point (or was it 10 points?) elk...or Elken...as we've determined the Peterson Plural of Elk is!
Oh no! another BISON....some fly fishermen....some ranger/cops pulling motorcyclists.....I've never seen a ranger actually hellpiing anybody here..
Back to Old Faithful time: Old Faithful! She stands true, many people's idol, for, the crowd began clapping as the geyser died down and returned to her temptress status: puff's of steam, sulphur scented steam, a screen blurring continuously spouting, yet, mainly unappreciated, smaller wonders down and around the boardwalk....far away..."Let's get ice cream, Dad. This stinks!"
The crowds disperse to their cars, the gift shops, a nasty cafeteria macaroni and cheese dinner....
In high spirits, we hit the road, Camelbaks refilled with ice water, spewed from a modern, reliable soda fountain.
......and now I wait, along with other tourists---- alongside the road with two rangers---the first sign of grizzly bears in the area---an elk runs out of the woods, nose raised in the area. It keeps its head and eyes focused on the spot where the grizzly entered the forest. A bison poops in the meadow next to us. Quite a show...a kid says to make up a story about actually seeing the bear. Lydia says,"why let the truth get in the way of a good story!" I don't know how long we'll wait....wait...the elken reenters the woods....the rangers leave....Goodbye grizzly.
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Epilogue:
News flash! The elk doe was probably running away from the bear as a decoy, in order to protect her calf, which she probably hid in the sagebrush, the ranger educates us. Apparently calves don't have a scent for a while either.
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