Post from July 12

(I didn't have internet when I was in Montana)

Today, I drove 600 miles. That was not entirely the plan, as it is not directly 600 miles from the Black Hills to Gardiner, Montana. However, I took two detours. The first was to the Devil's Tower, but alas, my encounters were not as close as I would have wished, since there were about 30 cars ahead of me to get into the park, and I was on a schedule.  The detour had already cost me an hour, since it was not as close to the highway as the state of Wyoming would have you believe. 

On the way to Montana, to the very northwestern entrance of Yellowstone, signs for a more scenic route than I-90 kept tantalizing me. Now, I've been on I-90 since New York. I'm rather sick of her, of her construction, and of endless views of sameness.  So, I gave into temptation, and took the scenic route through Yellowstone. Not just through Yellowstone, but through two national forests as well: Big Horn and Shoshone.  I'm getting well acquainted with national forests, since I just camped in Black Hills National Forest.  Big Horn was filled with meadows of purple and yellow flowers, and felt so alpine that I almost burst into songs about hills being alive with the sound of music. Shoshone felt much more wild, with the Shoshone River swelling at its banks, just ready to burst.  And finally, I came to the gate of Yellowstone. My national parks pass is definitely giving me my money's worth: Yellowstone alone is $25, and the pass only cost $80. This is the third time I've used the pass.  The ranger asked me if I had a place to stay (I later understood her response of "good" to my "yes" when I passed full campground after full campground and hotels with no vacancy signs) and handed me a map and flyer along with my vehicle permit. The bright yellow permit has a warning about bison on one side (visitors have been gored!) and a rather disturbing warning on the other side about thermal crusts being thin and covering boiling water. The image is of a boy falling through, a look of pained surprise on his face as his baseball cap flies into the air. The ranger warned me to watch for animals on the road at this time of night, and sent me on my way.  

Melting snow send cascading streams down sheer rock walls that bordered the road, and the various rivers and streams were all as raging as the Shoshone.  I drove higher and higher, into snowcapped peaks, through forests decimated by fire, past shimmering lakes, and yes, bison. I smelled the sulfur and saw the steam that makes Yellowstone so famous. I'd kind of expected the whole park to feel like a wasteland, with the images of hell conjured by sulfur and heat, but it is one of the most beautiful places that I've ever seen. I added at least 30 minutes to my trip because I kept pulling over to take pictures.  

Several hours later, I was through the park and pulling into the 4 mile long driveway of the house that I'm staying at.  I can see nothing but mountains, all around me, as I look out the windows.  It's utterly isolated, heartbreakingly beautiful, and has a washer and dryer and a place to dry out the tent that I packed up in the misty Black Hills this morning. 

I can't wait to go explore the park more fully tomorrow!