Say Good-bye to Yellowstone.   As I am sure my fellow traveler, Fayez Alruwaili, would say, “If you have seen one geyser, you have seen them all.” Or….maybe “This bison looks exactly like that bison.”

At any rate, we actually both enjoyed the natural wonders of Yellowstone National Park….and now it time to move on….to the West….toward Paradise. Before embarking on another long journey of lonely highways through green forests and tall mountains, we considered it prudent to perhaps change the oil in the car….or at least buy some oil which could be added in case the oil was running low…..which it most definitely was.

It was a Saturday morning….Saturday morning in the busy tourist town of West Yellowstone, Montana.   A town where thousands of tourists arrive and leave every day of the summer.   A town where all of the tourists arrive….and leave…..in an automobile.   Of course, most of these automobiles are in good running order…..problem free.   But, we are also going to assume…..and probably correctly…..that a goodly number of them have problems….or develop problems….while their owners are visiting the Park.   And…let’s face it…..automobiles do not know what day of the week it is.  They have not been programmed to only break down or need attention only on five days a week.   Bless their little engines…..they can….and do…..need attention on any day of the week….and at any time of the day.

When a person is at home,  he simply waits until Monday and takes the car to a mechanic…..or he takes it to Wal-Mart, which will repair a car almost any time.   Or you can call a buddy.   You know….the one who is a mechanic or knows something about cars.  Well….let me tell you: If you are in West Yellowstone, Montana, you are out of luck. You can be assured that there is not a single mechanic to be found on a weekend.   We found this to be almost beyond belief. In a busy tourist town?   With cars in all states of repair and dis-repair.   What a missed opportunity.   What a gold mine for some enterprising mechanic.   Weekends are like any other day to the tourist.   All of the restaurants are open.   All of the gift shops are open.   All of the bars are open.   All of the service stations are open.   All the grocery stores are open.   But…..try to find a mechanic and you are out luck. So…..to be on the safe side….be sure to caution your car not to break down or need any sort of attention…..because you are not going to get it.

Fortunately for us, we were not faced with a life-changing crisis. But….yet, it was a crisis of a sorts.  The oil in Fayez’s car was getting low…..and we needed to add a quart.  Of course…..this is a minor detail that either of us could take care of by our self.

No need to change the oil…..we would simply buy a quart of oil and add it to the engine.  But, there was one major problem: What grade of oil should be added?   Fayez did not know.   And, of course, neither did I…..after all, it wasn’t my car.   So….we made an executive decision: We would get the oil changed. It would soon need to be changed anyways.

We searched West Yellowstone for somebody to change the oil.   Of course….we didn’t find one.   They probably all belong to some sort of oil-changers union.   We finally found a guy in one of the service stations who told us that he knew of a garage that was open on Saturday morning……but it was about thirty miles away.  Faced with seemingly no other choice, we headed toward the little town…..knowing that we would be forced to relinquish a major part of our sightseeing day.   Oh well….you do what you have to do.

A couple miles into our unfortunate journey….one of us…..and to avoid an argument,  let’s say it was Fayez….suddenly saw the little sticker which the mechanic always places in the window after changing the oil! Wow…. a sense of relief….and embarrassment….overtook us.   We turned the car around and drove joyfully back to West Yellowstone where we bought a couple quarts of oil and poured them lovingly into the crankcase.   Oh well….it was early in the morning…..and we had not had our cup of coffee yet.

It was time to leave Yellowstone and continue our search for Paradise. Yellowstone is nice…..but it is not Paradise.

Early on Sunday morning, we pointed our GPS toward the West….west to Idaho and the scenic Bitterroot Mountains.   Before we turned west, we first had to drive north to I-90, which crosses southern Montana into Idaho.  The drive from West Yellowstone to I-90 is a rather unremarkable experience….mostly more semi-arid land and rolling hills with snow-covered mountains in the background.   This drive gave Fayez and me the chance to reflect on our impressions of Yellowstone.

To be honest, I really have no strong feelings in favor of one part over the other: geysers vs water falls; water falls vs. Lava Hot Springs…..   If I were forced to choose my favorite sites in the Park, however, I would settle on the Hayden Valley….the vast stretch of green land a few miles south of Canyon Village. This is a peaceful valley with rivers and streams meandering through it. It is uncluttered by forests or geysers or mineral formations. It is an ideal place to sit and reflect….on anything you feel like reflecting about. In the first weeks that I worked in Yellowstone back in 1989, I used to drive my pickup down to the Valley, sit and listen to my favorite cassette tapes and watch for wild animals which find this an ideal place to graze.

The other feature about Yellowstone that greatly appeals to me is the animals….whether it be the bison or elk or moose….or bears.   Once, when I was out driving early one morning, I came up a baby elk and its mother….a baby that was probably born only minutes before I arrived….one who could barely stand on its own feet. An awesome sight.

Fayez?

Well…..I think he preferred the mountainous area of the north loop….an area where one drives for perhaps thirty or forty miles with no “attractions” such as geysers, hot bubbling springs or water falls.   It is a scenic drive through sweeping mountain vistas, of forests and wide open valleys which stand out in contrast against the mountainous background. It is an area less traveled, less popular, than the rest of the Park…..by no means isolated, but certainly not an area which you will find crawling with scurrying, inconsiderate Japanese tourists.   Perhaps this is sufficient reason in itself to like it.

Fayez, like me, found the Hayden Valley to be a peaceful and appealing diversion from the sometimes frenetic activity of the major tourist attractions. I think it is safe and accurate to say that Fayez does not find the wildlife in Yellowstone as fascinating as I do.   Some people are animal lovers….some people are not. Fayez is not.   If I had been driving, I would have stopped to take pictures of almost every wild animal we saw.   Well…maybe not every buffalo…..but certainly every elk, every moose, every bear….although we didn’t see any bears. In all probability, if I hadn’t yelled, “Stop” when I saw a wild animal, I would have left Yellowstone with no wild animal pictures at all!  It is too bad that Yellowstone doesn’t have a few camels!   Wow…. I would have left with a hundred pictures of them.

At any rate….there we were making our way up to I-90, so we could cross over into the state of Idaho. Like so many of our drives, this one started out rather remarkably.   There are the usual rolling low mountains, the sage brush…..the vast blue skies: the Wild Montana Skies, as John Denver would say.   Of course, Montana is know as “Big Sky Country”….because there is nothing to obstruct the clean blue dome overhead….and because the sky is blue.

There is an important difference that contrasts the journey through southwest Montana to the route we drove through central Wyoming. Yes….there is sage brush.   But, here are vast stretches of green grass, probably thanks to extensive irrigation.   Although this is not an area which produces an abundance of grain or row crops, such as wheat, corn or soybeans….these hundreds of acres provide valuable grazing land to hundreds….probably thousands…..of cattle in the summer time…..not to mention the fact that they are a significant source of hay.   The grass is cut and baled into thousands of bales of hay…..and they are a critical necessity to supply the cattle with food during the long winter months.   Maybe this not the land of true cowboys….but it is without a doubt a more favorable area to raise cattle.

As we leave I-90 and turn on to Idaho Route 12, the scenery starts to change.   We pick up the Lochsa River, and we will follow it halfway across the state….the highway and river side-by-side.   For miles, the river flows lazily along, taking its time….in no hurry.   As we follow Route 12 deeper into Idaho, the forests become more dense….almost impenetrable…..the massive pine trees almost hugging the highway on our right….and the never-ending river on our left. It is a visual masterpiece. It has started to rain by now. Not a heavy rain…..but a steady, relentless rain that makes the afternoon gray and foggy.   If this is a lonely highway when the sun shines….it takes on an added element of desolation and gloom when it rains.  The clouds are concealing the tops of the mountains….wispy and thin.   Sometimes there even appears to be smoke arising from the distant forests.   But, we know there is not.   Only clouds…only rain.

The rain and the clouds and the gloom don’t dampen our spirits.   We are in the midst of nature as it should be….untouched, wild, natural, uninhabited….except by the wildlife that Mother Nature intended it for.

Beware….don’t start this journey without filling up with gas.  The towns are few and far between…..and even then, they are not really “towns”….but more like a wide space in the road, as they say.   And, don’t depend on your cell phone to call AAA.   Because of the mountains and the isolation from society, your cell phone is not going to work.   Maybe, if you are getting your signal from a satellite things will work out.   But, if you are depending on a tower…..forget about it.

We have found some scenery that Fayez really likes!  The mountains, the river, the forests, the rain…..   Nothing like Saudi Arabia!   Maybe he could drive all day in these surroundings and never get bored with it. It is a peaceful, laid-back drive.   We stop at irregular intervals….get out….take some quick pictures….and then continue on our way….pressing on toward Paradise.

As the elevation starts a gradual, barely imperceptible decline, the speed of the river picks up.   What was once a placid ribbon of water is rapidly becoming more volatile.   The white caps become more disturbed.   The noise level increases to a crashing crescendo within a few miles as the river cascades and churns it way down the mountain. This is perfect for those foolhardy people who would pay hundreds of dollars to risk their lives at white water rafting.   I say that because I do not know how to swim.   I am not at all sure that even a heavy duty life jacket could protect my life in this raging river.   On the other hand, Fayez knows how to swim.   This would probably provide a real adrenalin rush for him.

There are no white water rafters on the river today.   It is raining. It is too cold.   We confine our activity to taking pictures.   And, even those pictures are hurried ones….because it is raining.   And, the rain is cold. But inside the car, our spirits are high, the conversation never falters. This isn’t Paradise….but it has to be somewhere in the top five.

It is not uncommon to hear of militant groups….separatist groups….who set up camps in these rugged and isolated forests in the mountains of central and northern Idaho.   If this is actually true….it is easy to see that they have picked the perfect place to carry on their clandestine activities with secrecy and privacy.   It doesn’t take much imagination to understand why one could live virtually without being detected for months….even years….in this secluded and remote region.

Actually we have no idea where we are….well, we do….   But in terms of miles or time or distance…..we could be a million miles from nowhere. As we descend from the mountains….leave the river to find its own way home…..and say good-bye to the green forests, we approach what turns out to a real town…..the city of Kamiah.   We stop, fill up with gas, get a bottle of energy drink, and inquire how far it is to Lewiston…..our destination for the night.   We are closer than we think.   That is encouraging.   Plenty of time to find our campground….plenty of time to rest before it is time to fix supper…..for Fayez to fix supper!

Ahh…..back to the delicious meals cooked over an open fire!   They are delicious.   And it has been a while since I have eaten one.   This is one of the joys of camping out….even if it is in a camping cabin.   After we arrived at Hells Canyon Campground, just outside of Lewiston, Idaho, we got our stuff unpacked…. we got the Internet working….  Yes, they actually had an Internet connection. It was still rather early…..two or three hours until it got dark.   So I took a nap while Fayez went for a run.   This became a familiar pattern…..pull into our campground, get the camping gear unpacked, set up the Internet….locate the showers and restrooms…..   And then I would take a refreshing nap while Fayez went for a run around the area.   Usually Fayez ended up taking a short nap when he got back, too.   Then he was energized to fix a tasty meal.

Contrary to the way it may sound, I also helped with the meal.   We brought our rice cooker….and an extension cord.   And, I was in charge of cooking the rice…..an easy, but important job.   And, who says I don’t know how to cook?

Doing dishes was a minimal task…..paper plates, plastic spoons, cans of pop or bottled water…..paper towels as napkins.   Our only dirty dish was the rice cooker.   Come to think about it….this is the way I cook at home, too!

This trip has been billed as a “camping trip”….but tonight is the first night we will actually camp.   Camping, for me, at least, is not what it used to be.   Back in the “olden days” when I was younger,  I slept under the stars;  I slept in a tent;  I slept in the back of my pickup.   All I needed was a sleeping bag…..and I was in good shape.   On the very first trip I took to the West Coast, my traveling companion and I would find a place off the road….maybe near a river or stream…..and simply unroll our sleeping bags and go to sleep.   The next morning, it was not unusual to wake up covered with morning

dew that had condensed on us during the night.  Oh well…. No big deal.   At least, we had a good night’s sleep.

But, those days are in the distant past for me now.   No longer do I have any desire to sleep on the ground.   No…..now we rough it by sleeping in a camping cabin.   Almost every modern campground has them.   They are pretty basic:

 just a couple beds, a heater and/or an air conditioner…..maybe a couple shelves and a couple chairs….although these two items are pretty much optional, depending on the campground.   But, at least, we are inside, off the ground, away from the mosquitoes, with a semi-comfortable bed to sleep on.   We still have to take our own linens….but that is a small price to pay for such luxury.

The real joy in camping, however, comes from a roaring campfire.   We have a grilling basket…..a wonderful device…..in which we cook our food directly over the fire.   Fayez is a master chef when it comes to outdoor cooking.   And I happily eat whatever he prepares…..chicken, corn, potatoes, hot dogs….and, of course, the rice that I cooked.   It is all good.   After the evening meal is finished and the dishes are taken care of……put into the trash container…..and the rice cooker washed out….we can kick back in front of the fire and relax from the day’s journey.

Often we are the only campers who are sitting outside….or who have a fire…   The others are in their expensive RV’s….probably watching satellite TV.   But, we are the lucky ones.   We are the ones having fun. I don’t know…..is sitting in a comfortable RV really camping?   Or is it merely a portable motel that a person pulls behind them as they travel?   But, we are happy to have the night to ourselves….the campfire flickering…. and often the coyotes howling in the distance.

We sit and talk….and discuss….and argue….often struggling to keep our voices down.   We have done this before…..although it was in the middle of winter!   How much more interesting can it get?   Fayez is from a different country….a different religion….a different culture….different viewpoints.   But, what makes it work is his sense of humor, his invariably optimistic outlook, a smile that never fades, his kindness, his loyalty…..and our mutual respect for each other.   Now don’t tell me we don’t have some thought-provoking, raucous discussions.   And….just think…someday this guy will be my doctor!

But, our brief visit to Hells Canyon State Park is coming to an end. Now we must press on toward Paradise.

 

“All my bags are packed. I’m ready to go……” The Hyundai was packed…..and packed almost to capacity…..with all the assorted things we would need to lead a semi-comfortable life roughing it in KOA campgrounds for the next sixteen days. Our clothing, of course…..enough to last at least eight days, the halfway point. The two comfortable camping chairs….the kind that fold up into an easily portable package. The cooler…this time with dry ice instead of regular ice….Fayez’s idea. And the utensils and equipment we would need when preparing our meals. Fayez Alruwaili arrived the previous afternoon. All of the stuff was piled in the front room waiting for him to arrive with his Hyundai. With everything ready, packing the car was a piece of cake….as they say. The only thing remaining to buy was the dry ice…..a good excuse to go to Topeka to eat…..sit in Weller’s Bar and Grill for a while…..and stop by Dillon’s to pick up the ice before returning home. I have taken dry ice before…..several years ago when Sebastian and I took this same journey in 2002. We walked into the now defunct Food-4-Less store in North Topeka and asked a guy if they sold dry ice. He disappeared into the back room and returned a new minutes later with some chunks of dry ice wrapped up in some paper bags. “Here you are,” he said. “Will this be enough?” “Yeah….it should be. How much do we owe you?” “Nothing…..just take it. It comes with frozen food.” That was what? Twelve years ago. Things have changed. We walked into the Dillon’s store after we left Weller’s to buy some dry ice. It obviously was not going to be free this time. The dry ice was located in a regular vending machine in the front of store. The vending machine clearly warned….”You must be at least 21 to buy dry ice.” And…..the vending machine was locked! With a padlock. The security guard….of all people….came over to us, as we stood there contemplating what to do. “We want to buy some dry ice,” we told him. That set off a chain reaction of activity. Nobody seemed to know who had the key….or even where the key was located. Obviously, they did not sell a lot of dry ice…..and especially that late at night. After some scurrying around, the person with custody of the all-important key was located. And, I, being a few years older than 21, was allowed to buy some dry ice. We left the store with our dry ice…..and also a few questions. Why is the dry ice locked up? Why do you have to be 21 to buy it? Why was it so difficult to find a person to unlock the ice chest? Why didn’t they take a mug shot….or my fingerprints. “OK, let’s be in the car….and pulling out of the driveway at 6:00 tomorrow morning.” That was our unanimous agreement….both of us. “OK….wake me up at 5:30,” Fayez asked me. “OK. I am getting up at 5:00.” Now….let me say, it is never I who has problems getting out of bed in the morning. I am out of bed the minute my eyes open. Sometimes I have a problem waking up the other person….but never myself. I am dependable….on time….prompt….. Thursday, May 15, rolled around….early. I opened my eyes, looked at the clock…. Wow, I couldn’t believe my eyes! It was already 5:30…..after 5:30, in fact. I was almost in a panic. I jumped out of bed….almost literally….rushed to the bathroom to take a (very) quick shower….got partially dressed…..turned on the light in Fayez’s room….shouted for him to wake up…… It was pretty obvious that we would not be driving out of the driveway at 6:00! Finish getting dressed….a quick breakfast….last minute stuff to pack into the car….. It was close to 7:00 when we were finally heading down 130th Street toward the Ferguson Road….. We still had to stop and fill up with gas….. Fayez grabbed a couple cups of coffee and a couple rolls while I filled up the car…… We are more than an hour late now. Oh well…..we will drive fast…..not stop unless absolutely necessary…..and make up the time. Finally we were on our way….heading to Holton to meet up with Highway 75, which would essentially take us up to I-80 in Nebraska. But not so fast……When we got to Holton, Fayez casually said we should stop and put some air in one of the tires because it was starting to get low. No problem….there is a service station at the corner where we would turn to get on Highway 75. But….of course…..there was a problem. What looked like a major problem. The cap on the valve stem would not come off. And, yes….the tire was getting very low. Low enough that it would not be safe to start out on a major trip. We finally located a garage that was open and explained our problem to them. You know…..I am constantly amazed at how kind people are sometimes. They stopped what they were doing, drove the car into one of the bays to take car of the problem. But….again….not so fast. They were also not able to get the cap off the valve stem. In the first place, it was some sort of proprietary part, put there by the tire retailer….and second of all, it appeared to be rusted on the stem. The solution? Lift the car up….cut off the valve stem….and replace it…..after repairing the leak, of course. Not really a major problem….unless you are already a couple hours behind schedule. There was no other choice. One of the “good” tires also had the same sort of valve cap, so they replaced both of them. They charged us…..of course. They weren’t that generous or humanitarian. But, at least they didn’t said, “Bring it back this afternoon at 1:00 and we will take care of it.” And, I can imagine that both of us must have looked rather pathetic and disheartened…..and they merely took pity on us. About 8:00 we were finally on our way…… We put our problems behind us, and looked only to the exciting sixteen days ahead of us. A couple minor setbacks were not going to ruin….or even dampen…..our fun. A couple problems were only something to be laughed about later. Our first stop…..Laramie, Wyoming. Fortunately, there is not much to see between here and Laramie. Our main objective of the day was to drive through Nebraska as quickly as possible. I know this is not going to make the people of Nebraska happy……no more than it pleases the people in Kansas to have our state referred to as a vast wasteland….and merely a hardship to be endured on the way to Colorado. As we drove along, I saw the vast stretches of land as more than an obstacle in our path to Laramie. When a person looks out over the thousands of acres of green crops growing in the springtime….wheat, corn, soy beans, milo….and providing grazing land for thousands of cattle and other livestock…..it is difficult to escape the realization that in a few short weeks….or months….this is the food that will feed our country. This will be the hamburger that will later be known as Big Macs…..or the flour that will become Duncan Doughnuts…..or egg McMuffins. This will be the food that will feed the people of Los Angeles….Las Vegas….Disneyland….New York City….. This will provide the food for the nation’s airports….national parks….roadside cafes….and exclusive restaurants of the nation. True…..we were not tempted to stop the car to take pictures of the crops growing in the fields….or even the cattle grazing on the grasslands. But, to write off the highways of the mid-western states, such as Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota shows a profound lack of appreciation for their value and importance and their significance to our nation….and to the world. Which can you give up? Eating…..or gambling? Surfing? Theme parks? For me, it certainly is not going to be eating. We stopped and took pictures at all eleven of the signs as we entered the various states. But, other than that, I had told Fayez that the only thing worth stopping to take a pictures of between Valley Falls and Laramie was a huge sculpture of Abraham Lincoln’s bust somewhere on the north side of I-80 in Nebraska. It makes a good picture….and it is a worthwhile place to stop, get our of the car for a few minutes….and stretch our legs a little bit. I am not really sure if Fayez knew who Lincoln was….at least, until I told him. But, to have a statue that large, one knows that he must have been somewhat important. Almost immediately after we turned on to I-80 just outside of Lincoln, I began to watch for the statue. We had driven well into the afternoon….and I was still looking. We were approaching the Wyoming border….and still no sign of the statue. I was almost sure that it had not been taken down. I mean….what why they? Even the Tea Party couldn’t get away with that. And, anyways, it was much too big. I told Fayez that I had obviously missed it….let it slip past while we were talking. Oh well….it is really not a tourist attraction. Just something interesting….and photogenic….and a chance to stop and rest for a few minutes. We crossed the border into Wyoming, and I stopped looking for the sculpture. We continued to drive west toward Laramie….our destination for the night. Suddenly I looked out the car window…..and there was the statue of Lincoln….perched upon a hill on the north side of I-80…..in Wyoming….not Nebraska. (Personally, I think somebody moved it just to confuse me!) So….we made our first official “tourist attraction” stop…..long enough to take a few pictures…..go to the restroom (never pass up an opportunity!)….and to stretch our legs. Ahh…..a feeling of both satisfaction….and embarrassment that I didn’t remember where the statue was located. But….somehow I doubt if I will ever forget its location. After an exotic meal at Subway, we spent a couple hours visiting with one of my old high school classmates. We spent the night in the KOA Campground, and on Friday morning we packed up and headed toward our first major destination….Yellowstone National Park. The highway from Laramie to Yellowstone National Park cuts through Wyoming from southeast to northwest….maybe a six or seven hour drive, if you keep pushing it. As the highway heads out of Laramie, it is easy to “push it”. The landscape is the same as it was yesterday when we finally arrived in Laramie, rather worn out….and maybe just a little bit bored from the unchanging landscape of sage brush and low hills covered with scrubby trees…..a semi-desert, in my opinion, although Fayez would be quick to disagree. The landscape is dotted with entrances to ranches…often with fancy archways with the name of the ranch written on it…..ranches which you cannot see because they are set far back from the highway. This is land where a home may be as much as thirty, or forty, or fifty miles or more to the nearest town. It is not the kind of location where you jump into your car to drive into town to pick up a loaf of bread. I can imagine that a careful housewife plans her shopping list very carefully before she heads into town….and that town may be more of a village than a real town. School children are picked up early by their school bus….often while it is still dark outside….and dropped off late. A wise student could probably finish most of his homework while on the bus…..and many probably do. A lucky student will own his own transportation…..probably a pickup truck. And, if he has younger brothers and sisters, he is no doubt their “school bus”….whether he likes it or not. Here in Northeast Kansas, our high school athletes are accustomed to a thirty minute bus ride to their opponent’s school….except on rare occasions when the trip may be further. Parents get off work, eat their supper….and then head out to watch their child play. Can you imagine what it would be like if your opponent’s school is one hundred or more miles away? At the very least, there is going to be a lot of missed school time….and a lot of late nights….and sleepy mornings. As we drove along, these are the sort of things we speculated about. Would I like to live in such a rural, isolated location…..the answer is NO. And, that is the answer that Fayez gave, too. It takes a special person to live there…..probably someone who was born there and have lived there all their life. This is “home”. This is “normal” for them. And, I am sure that many of them like it that way. But….and I can’t prove this….but I can also imagine that many of them leave and go somewhere else as soon as they graduate from high school…..looking for green pastures. As we continued toward the northwest, the elevation became higher…the hills began to transform into small mountains. But….it was still arid land….land that would probably require at least thirty or forty acres to support one cow. No wonder the ranches are so huge. But, we also began to see rivers and streams flowing through the land. We could spot these rivers a mile in advance…..the landscape changed from brown to green and back to brown…..almost magically. Streams of living water in the desert. Around noon or one o’clock, we passed through the picturesque town of Lander….a welcome bit of civilization. A grocery store…McDonald’s…..Dairy Queen….motels….service stations. It is a summer tourist town. A welcome stop after the miles of semi-barren land….miles and miles of land. But…..it not big enough for a Wal-Mart. Sorry. After a short, but refreshing stop in Lander, it was back to business again. But, not before we prepared and ate our tasty lunch. We had an assembly line process in place…..Fayez made the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches….and I made the sliced meat and cheese sandwiches. After a few days, we got the process down to perfection. Once the sandwiches were prepared, it was on to our next major stop: Dubois. A real wild-west town…..fake, to be sure….although I am sure the surrounding area is populated with many ranchers. On a trip several years ago, we stayed in a local motel. The next morning we went to a cafe for breakfast. There were several ranchers also eating breakfast….all of them dressed in blue jeans, cowboy hats and cowboy boots. And also a deputy sheriff….also with his cowboy hat and cowboy boots…..and a pistol strapped to his belt. We couldn’t help but overhear their conversation…. They were talking about some cattle that had been rustled the previous night. We felt that we had walked into an old Roy Rogers movie! Dubois was another welcome stop. It was an opportunity to fill up with gas and buy the food we would need for the next couple days…..and pay a visit to the nearest restroom. Prices were already high….much higher than we pay here at home…..but they were inexpensive compared to what we would have paid in Yellowstone. We had spent a long morning of driving through the semi-arid spaces of southern and central Wyoming….. This land is probably not a desert in the classic meaning of the word…..but yet it is dry and unproductive. Fayez kept looking for camels…..but he had to settle for cattle instead! As we drove along, we enjoyed the landscape….as much as you can enjoy miles and miles of seemingly unsettled land. As the miles rolled by, Fayez and I were so occupied in our conversations….and laughing….and joking…..that the time was far from boring. As a matter of fact, the time slipped by quickly…..although I use that term in a relative manner. At fairly irregular intervals, we would spot what appeared would make a good pictures. At the earliest opportunity, we would pull over….usually into the entrance to a field….get out and take pictures. Sometimes, just a picture of the long, endless highway makes one of the best pictures we took. As the Oak Ridge Boys say in one of their songs: “The highway goes on forever.” Beyond Dubois the scenery begin a subtle change….slowly merging the endless hills covered with sage brush into an almost imperceptible rise in elevation…..and the steady emergence of trees that gradually morphed into forests. Finally, we were approaching the Grand Tetons National Park. The Tetons jut up from the landscape like the teeth on a saw…..snow-covered and barren, for the most part. With the mountains in the background, and the meadows, the forests and the lake in the foreground, they are an invitation to take pictures….lots of pictures. After a while, a person starts to realize, “I am simply taking the same picture over and over again.” Ah…one of the benefits of being a senior citizen. As we pulled up to ticket booth at Grand Tetons National Park, I whipped out my senior citizen Golden Pass….a little card that admits me and my companions to enter the park free of charge. This little plastic card cost $20.00…..and it has paid for itself many, many times in the past eleven years since I officially took on the status of “senior citizen”. It entitles the owner admittance to all national parks, national monuments…..and almost anything else operated by the United States government…..along with selected state parks, too. If you are not already a senior citizen……hurry up, so you can get one of these. Yellowstone National Park….what can I say about it that probably already hasn’t been said a millions times before? Probably nothing. OK. One thing I can say was that this was the first time Fayez had been there….obviously. And, I was hoping that it would live up to my advance advertising campaign. It is probably true to say that a person’s first visit to Yellowstone is always their best. This may not always be true…..but there is nothing like seeing a geyser or a bubbling mud volcano or the yellow walls of the canyon….or the spectacular water falls…. or a herd of bison…..or sitting and waiting for Old Faithful to erupt…..for the first time. I had already been to Yellowstone perhaps twenty times; in fact, I worked in Canyon Village for three months one summer back in 1989. Geysers and bison are nothing new to me. The one thing that stood out for me on this trip was the amount of snow! We entered the south gate, and on our way to the Loop Road, snow was piled up seven or eight feet on both sides. I arrived in Yellowstone about the same time in 1989…..and the only snow that I saw was on the mountain peaks. It was obvious that Canyon Village, where I worked, had been drifted shut until very recently. The parking lot had been cleared to make space for the cars to park….but there were mounds of freshly piled snow which covered the entire parking lot. Dunraven Pass, up north of Tower Falls, the highest road in the Park, was closed because of snow drifts. This was the point of a major annoyance….not to mention inconvenience. It would have been considerate for the park service to post signs at the major junctions leading up north around the Loop: “Warning: Road Closed Ahead”. Instead, the chose to spring it as a surprise about one mile from the spot where the road was actually closed. After forty miles of driving, our only option…except to utter a few unkind words….was to turn around and retrace our route. Forty plus forty equals 80 miles! The only advantage was that Fayez got a chance to look at the scenery twice. By this time, he had stopped looking for camels, though. What did we do while we were there? We walked some of the boardwalks through the geyser basins, looking at the almost surreal, barren landscape of mineral covered earth with steam or bubbling water or bubbling mud rising out of the ground. We saw too many water falls to mention by name….except for the water falls of the Yellowstone Canyon, where the Upper and Lower Falls paint a spectacular picture as they cascade down the Yellowstone River. We saw an abundance of wildlife….bison, elk, moose, eagles. And, we saw thousands of annoying Japanese tourists scurrying around like little insects….acting as rude, annoying and inconsiderate as they usually act…..walking through camera shots….hogging the best camera view while each one of them had his picture taken….multiple times…. Motioning for other to step aside so they can take their picture….. I have thought for a long time what every national park should be closed one day a week….and open only to Japanese tourists. That will be their day at the park…..and leave the other six days so normal tourists can enjoy it. Oh yes…..we also saw Old Faithful…..but only barely. We arrived at the site of Old Faithful….and it is almost impossible to miss it. It is usually fairly easy to tell when the famous geyser is about to erupt. Old Faithful is the only attraction in the Park that has its own grandstand…..two or three rows of wooden benches which form a ninety degree semi-circle around the geyser. When it begins to fill up with people, this is a good sign that the geyser will erupt soon. When we arrived, there were virtually no people there….a sign that it would be a while before the next dazzling performance. Old Faithful erupts at intervals of about 65 minutes or so. With time on our hands, we started walking the boardwalk trail out into the Old Faithful Geyser Basin. As we started walking, we heard two women talking….and breaking one of my rules…..I overheard one of the women say to her companion that Old Faithful would erupt again at….I don’t remember exactly….but let’s say 4:00. It was only about 3:10, so we had plenty of time to walk slowly, take pictures, and make it back to Old Faithful with time to spare. We made it back to Old Faithful, took a seat on the front row bench to wait for the water show. And we waited….and waited….and waited. Apparently I had been somewhat gullible…..and I was being rewarded for listening in on other people’s conversations. We had obviously gotten there too late….although more and more people began to filter in and take a seat. After thirty or thirty-five minutes, the geyser started belching out small spurts of steam and water…..sort of a prelude to the main event….like it always does before it erupts. Suddenly, however, the skies opened up, and we here being pelted with hail stones….assaulted by Mother Nature…..the same Mother Nature who had created Yellowstone in the first place. This was no gentle rain…..it was a serious “I am going to get you.” hail storm. Hundreds of people immediately ran for shelter…..leaving only the old, the sick, and the weak behind. And…..yes, I was one of those people! After a few minutes of debate and consideration, Fayez and I it would be wise for us to head for shelter, also. So….as briskly as we could….and that was not very brisk….we made our way to the near-by Yellowstone Lodge….although the word near-by is completely relative in this case. All the time, the hail continued to pound us. If you have ever been caught in a hail storm, you probably already know that hail can hurt! Sort of like having somebody throws little stones at you…..and all of little rocks hit you! We sat in the main lodge, which is a spectacular site in itself….constructed entirely of logs…with giant tree trunks holding up the roof and the 360 degree balcony or mezzanine. After a few minutes we saw people leaving. Apparently the storm was over….it passed as quickly as it had come. We left, too. Just as we rounded the Lodge to head back to our car, Old Faithful began to erupt. We quickly began to take pictures. Not exactly front row seats…..but certainly within perfect camera range. We got our pictures of Old Faithful, after all. It must has been Mother Nature’s way of saying, “I’m sorry about the hail.” And, we accepted the apology. Our two nights in West Yellowstone were unremarkable. We defied the motel rules and fixed our supper in our room. We sneaked the rice cooker into our room and dined on steamed rice, topped with mixed vegetables and picante sauce. The motel didn’t burn down, so we felt somewhat vindicated by the wanton disregard for motel rules. And….we had our choice: eat in our room….or spent twenty five or thirty dollars eating in one of West Yellowstone’s many restaurants, And, that would have been one of the cheap ones. Our brief sojourn in Yellowstone National Park was coming to an end. Fayez seemed to be more impressed by the vast mountain vistas, by the water falls, and the Hayden Valley than he was in the geysers and the mud volcanoes. I think he enjoyed seeing the buffalo and the other wild life….but not nearly as much as I. Maybe he just isn’t an animal person. And, let’s face it…..Yellowstone doesn’t have any camels! Without a doubt, the foremost thing that you must see is “Beryl Spring”…..an awesome sight….one that you will carry in your memories for years to come. Seriously, though…..Yellowstone was an awesome experience….for both of us. Do I hear somebody asking, “What advice can you give to somebody who is visiting Yellowstone for the first time?’ Good….because I am going to give you some. Try to spend at least two days in the Park. It is a huge place. Don’t be one of the “stop and shoot” tourists….the kind who leaves the car running, jumps out, takes a pictures….and then drives on to the next stop. Even if you can spend only ten or fifteen minutes at each of the natural features, it is better than none at all. Turn the car off, get out, walk around, take some pictures. At least, you can say that you were really there. Better yet….if you have the time….and if you are physically able….walk some of the paths….get as close to the geysers, the water falls, the canyon as possible….while still obeying the rules and regulation of the park. If there are explanatory signs….read them. They will tell you a lot about the park….and how it was formed. Take a lot of pictures….but remember….you are not the only ones wanting to take pictures from the best spots, so be courteous and quick. Do you thing….and then let other people have their turn…. do you hear that, all of you Japanese? And, obey all the signs….the rules and regulations. They are their for a purpose: to keep you safe, and to preserve the park for future generations. OK. Now it is time to pack our stuff into the car….and move on to those “wild Montana skies” and our next destination.