Yellowstone

Apologies for any strangely formatted text. I'm finding this "Blogger' difficult to use. Results  seem to vary a lot. There is sometimes “whited-out” text (for which reason I cannot figure out nor fix).

Yellowstone Lake in the evening kind of reminded me of Bras D'or in Nova Scotia. Completely different, but for a moment there I could have riding my bike somewhere else.

I drove up from Grand Teton, which I was sad to say goodbye to. I wish I could have stayed another night there. Sort of more "chilled" and relaxing than Yellowstone.

I was camping again here. To be honest, in the evening when I arrived at "Bridge Bay" campground, at first I thought I'd driven into a refugee camp - lots of people! And lots of campfires, which with the lack of trees in the fading evening light, gave it a sort of "Darfur-like" feeling. I'm probably exaggerating a bit, but it was pretty crazy looking!

In the morning, I was minding my own business, sitting at my campsite, eating my oatmeal (porridge, in the Queen's English) and drinking my coffee...waking up, actually. I had lucked out and got a great campsite under some trees, so the blazing sun didn't turn it into an oven at 6AM. Anyway, this kind of mean bastard in a white van with "Xanterra" (National Park Service mercenaries, er...I mean contractors) written on the side, drives by and asks me to get my bike up on the pavement. I told him, "Sure, no problem."

The previous evening it wasn’t really clear where to park, and I'd parked on some dirt beside the campsite. It's hard to explain, but it was an easy mistake. However, my bike was certainly doing no harm there. A few minutes later - like 5 minutes later - Mr. Snotty comes by again in his hate van, and this time says, "I still need you to move that." I was LITERALLY chugging down the last of my coffee and getting to my feet to do just that, when he pulled up again. It sounds like nothing now, but it was just unpleasant and unnecessary. He and his buddy proceeded to sit there and stare at me while I moved the bike. "FUCK OFF ASSHOLE!" I wanted to say, but I restrained myself. He's probably at it every day, right now even, terrorizing some nice family. Why don't people like that just go away and die?

Anyway, I put Mr. Snotty out of my mind and proceeded on the loop drive around the park for the day. I would head counter-clockwise, take in the sights, and end up at Old Faithful in the evening. Then hopefully  back to camp for "supper" - just like in a western!

Despite Mr. Snotty, I have to say that most people are really nice. However, notwithstanding that, I am amazed at how useless most folks are at taking photos. I deliberately have attached two photos that  I had two different people take of me in front of the "Dragon's Mouth" - in both cases they missed the object of the photo (other than me) – the Dragon’s Mouth! Don't they know I want a picture of myself and the Dragon's Mouth? I could have stayed home if I just wanted a picture of myself alone.

I saw a few buffalo in the distance further down the road. There was a sign saying "Bison on Road" which I paid close attention to but didn't worry after a while as they were off in the distance. As I rounded a bend about another mile down the road, this ENORMOUS male was just standing by the side of the road. He must have weighed nearly 2,000 lbs. It nearly scared the shite out of me! Not so much that I didn't stop to take a picture though.

As you drive along in Yellowstone, despite the crowds, every so often you find yourself alone, especially later in the day. All across the landscape, you see these strange vents and steam rising in the distance, or sometimes bubbling away nearby. They think Yellowstone, and a few other places, like Lake Taupo in New Zealand, are actually "super-volcanos" that when they erupt they blast matter for several hundred or even a thousand or more miles. When Yellowstone erupted 640,000 years ago, it spread ash and material beyond the Great Lakes! The massive "Loop Drive" you take in the park to see all the sights - which takes all day, easily (as I was to find out) - is actually around the caldera of a huge volcano. At least I think that's the story. As you’re walking or driving along, you sometimes think, “I wonder will that happen again TODAY?”

I took a wrong turn toward the NE entrance where I would be going on Monday (this was still Sunday). I realized my mistake after about 12 miles. I turned and that's when I saw the grizzly bear. Grizzly bears are very rare in the Lower 48 now. The only one left in my home state of California is the one on the state flag (the last one was killed near Yosemite in the late 1800's). It was amazing to see such a magnificent creature in the wild. There were a few other people who saw it too, and we all felt very privileged.

By the time I got to Old Faithful, it was about 8:30. The next "blast" wasn't due until about 9:40. Bear (pun intended!) in mind my campground is 34 miles from Old Faithful, and there is a lot of wildlife on the roads here....so I decided to stay!

It was pretty amazing and surreal to see it at that time of the evening - really nightfall. Just a few of us around. I warmed up in the Lodge while I waited and put on my warm gear for the bike ride back. Old Faithful did not disappoint.

On the way back, for most of the journey, which took about an hour, I was able to get behind a car. Still, it was what my father would call, "knicker-gripping stuff." It just takes one animal – bear, deer, elk, bison…you name it, and you’re toast.

I made it back to Bridge Bay in one piece. I was very tired and went to bed. I avoided Mr. Snotty in the morning, and headed out towards the North-East Gate again. Astonishingly, I saw another grizzly. It was about five or six miles from the previous sighting. Perhaps it was the same one? Probably.

Just outside Yellowstone's North-East entrance, there is a town called Cooke City. There I found the cafe and deli called "Loving Cup." Lots of cool locals going in and out. I was telling the owner, a guy called Chris, that his place reminded me a little of Al's place back in Grand Teton. Chris told me how he too had found a market for out-of-towners, and even locals, simply looking for some decent espresso coffee, and something to eat other than burgers and corn dogs. I had an awesome Waldorf salad, and I was on my way.

With that, I left Yellowstone behind, and had the fabled Beartooth Highway to cross in front of me.

Onwards!