Embarrassing Disclosure

Monday, September 27  -  Yellowstone National Park

So I'm not very good at geography.  And yes, I prefer to look at photos and don't always read the captions.  But I don't think it's fair of Dan to laugh so hard he had to pull over when I finally worked up the nerve to tell him I thought we might be in the wrong park.

The thing is, Yellowstone is beautiful and everything, but where were all those magnificent jagged peaks and cliffs and thundering waterfalls I'd been staring at for the last 10 years?  Every year I receive an Ansell Adams calendar in my Christmas stocking and this is why I insisted on coming to Yellowstone. I know I told a few of you that this was going to be the highlight of the whole trip for me.

I'm not sure at what point it began to dawn on me that I might have made a mistake thinking it was Yellowstone.  I know when I saw the Grand Tetons I thought, yes!  This is it.  A nice introduction to even more spectacular mountains and such.  Trouble was, Yellowstone seemed so much more open and rolling and, well, less dramatic than Adams's photos.  And I don't remember him ever shooting Old Faithful.  All through that first day I kept thinking that just around the next bend we'd get to one of those familiar, jaw-dropping vistas but all we'd get would be more vast meadows, bison, steaming geysers and new growth mountainsides. 

Finally, in the wee small hours this morning I had to look it up.  So it was Yosemite, not Yellowstone.  Yes, Dan, the other Y park, okay?  In California, not Wyoming.  Not really that funny.  And if you think you're going to be dining out on this story for the next 20 years I advise you to think again - quickly.

Still, Yellowstone is really lovely and I bet Ansell Adams never had a run in with a road hog like we did.

I was very nervous about oncoming traffic hitting him so I tried to pass - no way, he just started running alongside and gave me very dirty looks.

Then he turned and came back in my direction (they've been known to charge vehicles and leave rather large 2,000 lb. dents.)

Finally I had to, ahem, take the bull by the horns and get past him.  And please note, if you're wondering why I look a bit tense, that's a narrow mountain road with a steep drop on my side.

It felt like our last night of the holiday, even though we have three more nights on the road, but our sightseeing days are done, now we're just heading home.  And so, for our last night we sat and watched the stars come out and breathed in the soft mountain air (yes, Susan, I broke out the Benedictine for this) and thought it couldn't get much better. 

But then it did.  A lone banjo a few rigs over, and a man singly softly,  "I'll Fly Away." And soon a guitar and a woman singing harmony joined in.  I'm not kidding.  They worked through a large portion of the Pete Seeger song book before turning in to soft applause and sighs.

Note to Dan:  forget the calendar - this is what I want in my stocking this year.

It's the Bambi model - how cute is that?