Mt Washburn: 10,243 Ft

I took this picture, with my tail-light in view, in order to give perspective to how high WE are at about 8800 ft.  The monstrous mountain masquerades as a hill in Yellowstone's vastness.  It stands as a spectator to the grizzlies lumbering on its slopes.

Below note an "erratic' that weighs 300 tons.  10,000 years ago a glacier dropped it here, a minimum of 15 miles from its nearest point of origin!  I was amazed that  this lone behemoth rested among a forest of pines.  I feel certain that it has witnessed numerous forest fires over the ten thousand ears it has rested here as a testament to the power of living water, the frozen river of ice.

The Yellowstone River, before the falls, "Lower Falls".

Buffalo Herd! Yes!!!

Some of us just finished our hike down 300 plus metal steps to feel the mist off of Lower Falls cooling their face.  Ben decided my descent, with him snugly held against me, would be the best time to "melt down" and flail!!  I maintained an iron grip on the open railing, and squeezed a screaming Ben, with my left arm wrapped around him.  My left hand became a vise grip on his forearm.  The open wire steps revealed plunging terrain beneath me.  Adrenaline pumping up my anxiety, I turned around at 150 steps and panted my way up.  8000 ft high, gave me less confidence about the security of my, now trembling, legs.  (Kirsten's legs shook violently after her ascent.)  I rested periodically on the bendches provided:  a woman with knee replacements suggested I let Ben walk.  "Are you out of your mind??"  Some Asian folk cheered me on, in Chinese, but I understood.  I sheepishly admitted to another man, who said I was "crazy" in a good way, that "No, I was a Marine." and that "prudence" had taken over at the 150th step, where I turned and began my return to stable ground, not a waving staircase, attached to rock known to shear!

The family got pictures, even of a young CLEMSON alumni proposing!!  Providential!  

We ventured off, again, on our DAY-LONG excurision to Old Faithful, traveling along a long that grows longer with each mile-marker.

After a few curvy, slow miles a traffic jam appeared: AGAIN!  "Ooooo, they must see something."  Indeed, two herds of buffalo, about 30 head each, had begun their approach to their crossing of Yellowstone River, a mile up, or so, from the falls.   MAN-BULL took the lead as the herd, several calves included, swam, and drifted with the current, one behind the other, as they forded the river, across an ages old path, no doubt.

The boys collected clumps of bison fur, shed from their ragged winter coats.  Johnny asked for it, but flung it down when Brian said, "Ha Ha!  Somebody just cleaned their brush!""  Not!

We drove away, through an ancient, extinct lake, become a meadow, toward Yellowstone Lake and Old Faithful.  The lake was bigger than Yellowstone Lake (20 miles by 15 miles; 110 miles of shoreline; 332 ft deep; freezes over completely in winter; thaws by late May; 42 degrees at the bottom year-round;.)  It's elevation is 7733 ft, and it's one of the largest mountain lakes in America.  (I wonder if Tahoe is bigger?)

Mt Sheridan, 10,308 elevation, stands at the rim of the ancient caldera(formed 600,000 years ago)  that is Yellowstone! Another bay, West Thumb, is 4 miles by 6 miles.  It fills a crater that was formed only 200,000 years ago.

Ah!!!! Whooo-Weee!  We're here!!!!  Old Faithful, HERE WE COME!!!  6.5 HOURS after we started out!

Old Faithful: High Spouting Temptress

We arrived at Old Faithful 25 minutes after her last "eruption", therefore, we were forced to spend about an hour licking ice-cream (kids...and John), sipping coffee (me), and shopping  ALL OF US!!  Even little Boo Bear manage to scrounge out a souvenir:  a buffalo, what else?  Truth time:  I DID lick ice-cream, and the girls refilled my coffee mug so many times that we're all twitching from caffeine.  

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.

 

adorable calf in our cabin area: Mammouth Hot Springs Hotel area.

Characters Along the Trail

Outside Nashville:  Trio of Mexican American Woman...and their ancient mother of 12....traveling up to Knoxville to visit a missionary priest who had served them in the tomato fields of CA years ago when they were migrant workers.  These jolly American Born women, and their single tongued mother adored all the kids.  They loved Benny's hair color and wished us all well.

Memphis after Camping:  African American Cashier who would've loved more kids, but the men just wouldn't co-operate!  She had 3 children by three, or was it four, dads.  Quite simply a tragedy!  BTW, the Kroger's itself was a cultural experience!  NO deli, only fried chicken type stuff and nasty packaged meats.

Arkansas:  Crop dusters provided great air show entertainment.  Some planes, dazzled the eye with their bright colors.

Dallas:  The brave young widow and her daughter about to ship off to West Point.  The husband/father passed away one year ago while out training on his bike.  He had been director of admissions at West Point for years and the family had just moved to Dallas right before his tragic death.  George W.Bush paid respects at the house.  She generously loaned us Army cots, and wished us well.  She and her daughter were headed out to a Rangers game.  I perceived amazing courage and dignity, along with graciousness in these women. 

Amarillo:  "Siri", yes of iPad fame, for searching, and searching, and searching, in vain for an open pizza parlor.  It was Sunday.  The kids ate CCs.  I wouldn't dare, but settled for a Jason's deli Reuben instead, that I shared, along with a hot turkey sandwich.  Kirsten and Rebekah don't eat CCs either apparently. 

Tucumcari, NM: 1.) Nasty "roadsters" in knock off BMWs of various sorts,  pretending to be cool, as they traveled Rt 66.  From Michigan, they showed NO southern hospitality as they kicked me, in my über maneuverable   "sports car", out of my space so they could all snuggle together in consecutive parking spots....I hope a hail storm hits your pathetic, narcissistic selves!!!

2.)Hail and Dust Storm Survivors:  Yep!  We came across some of each.  Hail storms "hailed" from Oklahoma, and dust stormers had blown in from Nevada.

3.)Days Inn Breakfast bar-maid, and all bar-maids in fact:  Thanks for busting your tails to give us the BEST start to the day possible.  I sure have gotten my money's worth of Malto-Meal waffles!

Santa Fe: 1.0 Navajo College kid, proud of his studies, encouraging my kids to study hard and go to college. (this theme played out among several Navajo.)  Native artisans. very friendly and converse-ive.

2.) Woman (the artisan) who sold me my turquoise necklace.  She was excited for us.  Turns out she's NEITHER Navajo Nor Hopi, but rather of Spanish descent.  Her ancestors settled in Santa Fe in the 1500s. 

Just Inside Arizona:  Navajo teen-aged clerk, proud of her hand made silver jewelry.  She shared that her sister had put herself through college selling it.  Sadly, we think al Kirsten's personal belongings were stolen here by some Navajo girls hanging around the parking lot.

Before the Petrified Wood Forest:  John and Katie back home scouring the internet for a place for us to stay.  In between service and No Service, they reserved a Days Inn for us.  As we approached along 

I-40, we all gagged at it and kept on driving into the dusk.

Petrified Wood Forest:  Nasty Ranger!!!! She apparently knew nothing about anything, eg if we could even make the drive around the park, snakes at a rock drop (roadside campsite with NO facilities).

Grand Canyon: Ranger who as we arrived asked, "Are you some kind of a group?"  "Yes!  The Peterson Family Group!"

2.) Terrific, but very harried camp reservation worker who rearranged my camping dates!!!! Huge help!  He didn't seem like he was going to make our changed dates work,but then did a whiz-bang job!

3.)Two French sisters, around 60, saturated with sweat, climbing up and out of Grand Canyon via the 

Bright Angel Trail.  I later saw them much cooled, dry, unshod and with band aids on their blisters.  They had hiked "Rim-to-Rim", which is a four day hike:  down, DOWN,  across the Colorado River, and  Up!  They obviously slept on the trail!  Amazing women!  I offered them a sprit of Chanel #5, which they readily accepted with huge smiles!!!  Unfortunately, I had just taken it out of my purse and left it in my suitcase.  Who would've thunk you'd need THAT on the trail!?

4.) Tourists---  The bozo kids jumping inward off ledges in hopes of the perfect action shot "Big Air in Grand Canyon!".  Families perched on ledges for the amazing camera shot of floating in Grand Canyon! (Are you nuts!  what difference does a couple ft make in a photo?  This is YOUR LIFE you're risking!) Jovial people for the most part, wanting to enjoy their vacation! Appreciative family groups when you offer to take a family picture.  We met Nigerians, Italians, Chinese, Japanese, Russians, Germans...Everybody "Coming To America" (Neal Diamond).

5.) Fellow Campers---young family who had migrated from Seattle, their place of birth, to Yuma, AZ.  (NUTSO!!  It's hot as heck there!)  Supposedly there was work to be found.  The dad showed me how to light my Colman lantern while Mom nursed their infant.  The 18 month old flopped with exhaustion while the two school aged girls sat and listened to conversation.  Sweet family, and I wish them well (he's just getting an Associate Degree and she works as an Administrative Assistant)

Young woman, in search of herself, and very protective of Grand Canyon's water (All the water on the South Rim,where we were, is piped over from North Rim.)  She reminded us we were in a desert as my kids ran over and used the well several times (to wash a Brat that had fallen in the fire pit, for example) I scolded the kids to save face, and educated them later.  Apparently the forests around her town were burning.  We DID see the smoke billowing as we drove down to Phoenix several days later.

Phoenix:  my dear friends Kate and Ken Warren and their lovely family!  Thanks for a great--too short--visit and wonderful dinner:  cold cuts, homemade potato salad, and homemade blueberry muffins!  A shot of to Norman Felder, my high school buddy, who opened his home to us for the night, and taught the girls about Aloe Vera as a sunburn relief agent. (Grand Canyon:  tough on skin!)

L.A.:  Parking Lot Guys, MAN!  Can you whip a car around and slide it into a coin slot!  No personality, but who cars?  You can sure maneuver a van, and keep it safe, for a few bucks.

Peter and Alden Egan, who welcomed us into their urban LA apartment 
AND shared Peter's amazing home-fermented yogurt...that's my next hobby:  yogurt making!

Doing Laundry...again.!!!

 

Firehole River!

the river literally boils, as water from the pits pours through hollowed out limestone tunnels...Very cool!  I've heard that you can swim in this river downstream in Montana at the 45 parallel!  

Even in the car, I can smell the hot pots!!!

I remember walking around these boardwalks, crazy with the stink, and not a happy camper!!  My mom was vigilant about us staying on the walk.  I distinctly remember being intrigued by the fact that you could die if you fell in.  I wondered what would happen to the flesh, how fast, who would fish out the skeleton?  Childhood memories....

We just saw a lone buffalo in the marsh beside us.  People swim in the waters of Firehole river....must not be too hot at this point, like the run-off from a stream at Lassen in which I soaked my Chaco shod feet.

All of us continue to be amazed by all the WATER here!

Rebekah sits beside me, reading The Book Thief.  It's a wonderful novel, but dark for this beautiful Eden!  Kirsten reads And the Mountains Echoed, to her self, not to me!  Boo Hoo!  I guess I'll never find out how it ends....when do I ever have time to read/relax?  It'll take me a week to relax, I guess, (I've never had the opportunity to find out!)

The winding Main Loop road seems to go on and on!  Fortunately it is punctuated by spectacular sites, which is why I bought Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks Road Guide through Amazon.com before I left.  It has a detail in about 15 mile increments.  

Honestly, one needs weeks, or a lifetime here, not three days.  Call me crazy, but be may be back next year!!!  Seriously! though!

All these pictures were taken along a 20 mile stretch!  Yellowstone is its own world.  Complete!

The air has cooled, perhaps because it's 7:42 here.  (We left at 9:40 this morning, ridiculously late, but we had endured a clock shift!)

Evergreen fragrance blows over me to the voice of Josh Groban...life is good, even if wafts of sulphur continue to curl their way, unseen, into my nostrils.  THAT is life.  I must accept it.

our first buffalo