Further from Los Angeles is Yellowstone National Park

My friend Mike, the moose.

"Double, double, toil and trouble.  Fire burn and caldron bubble."  It went through my mind again and again while viewing the geysers, pools and fumerals at Yellowstone National Park.  (We missed the Obamas by a few days.)  At lunchtime, we all waited patiently around Old Faithful to erupt and spew its steam and scalding water, and bless its heart and hole, it came through.  Watching several hundred visitors quietly sit and stand in anticipation, raise their cameras only to lower them with a false alarm, was almost as entertaining as the eruption itself. 

After the crowd dispersed, we ate a picnic lunch (p.b. & j. tastes amazing at 7000 feet) and then headed up the boardwalk trail, built to protect the curious from the unexpected activity of nature, and took in the odorous sites of Old Faithful's cousins.  There was Castle Geyser, Ear Pool, Spasmodic and Giantess Geyser, and Morning Glory Pool, among others.  It's all weird, wonderful, beautifully grotesque, and steamy.  Upon returning to Old Faithful, we strolled through the historic Inn, built in 1904, and admired its grand rooms, oversized furniture and exposed timber construction.  Excuse me, the adults were admiring.  The kids just wanted ice cream, and the grown-ups were happy to indulge them because ice cream makes kids happy and long walks over stinky, bubbling pools of water, apparently does not.  As we headed toward the parking lot, my husband commented that the Inn was not open during the winter.  Put your index finger up, bend it slightly, and say "redrum".

Back in our cars for the ride to the Grand Canyon (I know, I was confused, too.  Yellowstone has its own version), we kept our eyes peeled for wildlife because so far, our trip had yielded nothing but cute little chipmunks who, in fact, do not sing at all, much less in harmony.  Like lemmings, we pulled over somewhere past Yellowstone Lake because everyone else was and trained our binoculars on a lone bison far, far across a plain, resting on a hill.  We were overjoyed to include a bald eagle in our viewing, and continued on our merry way, a little more fulfilled.  No more than two miles up the road, we came upon what I can only describe as "the Bison Revue" -- they were everywhere - swimming, feeding their young, stampeding - that by the time we eyed the bison walking by the side of the road a mere four feet from the car, we barely rolled down our windows to say "hello".

An easy hike down to the Brink of the Lower Falls allowed us a spectacular view of the canyon, and a stomach turning glimpse directly over the falls themselves.  Looking around at the majesty of it all, it's hard not to be humbled by the power of Mother Earth and appreciate all that she gives us.  We took it all in.  Shortly up the road, we pulled over for yet another glimpse of the canyon and a straight on view of the falls.  Unlike Old Faithful et.al., the falls offer their splendor 24/7, and for that, I nodded my appreciation.

Our drive back to Jackson, after putting in a ten hour day in Yellowstone, was a little like visiting the Los Angeles Zoo, though sadly, no one was offering free samples of sugar coated almonds or $3 bags of fresh kettle corn.  The moose by the side of the road was happy to pose for pictures, as was the elk further on.  The black bear in the meadow scampered away from us (probably a good thing), but the sighting seemed to complete the photographic scavenger hunt my middle child was privately conducting.  We filled up with gas at Colter Bay just as dusk officially became night,and were warned yet again to drive slowly.  Hitting wildlfe with your car around these parts appears to be the rule and not the exception.

I was so stressed as I drove back to the Rocking V Lodge, impressions of my fingers are still visible in the steering wheel.  The drivers who failed to turn off their brights as they approached didn't help matters.  By the time we got back to Jackson around 11pm, I was a shell of my former self.  But we were alive, and tired, and felt blessed to have enjoyed such a glorious day.  The National Parks don't disappoint.  My inner John Denver (and I do have one) had been nurtured, and for that, I was grateful.

Tomorrow: my in-laws 50th anniversary