Shameless Cheerleading

As a Wyoming girl, I have always been inordinately proud that Yellowstone Park was largely situated within the borders of my home state. ...Even though I never managed to see it in person until I was an old lady. Nevertheless, I always actually thought of it as a Wyoming place, not specifically a national park. I'm not sure why...maybe it is because the parts of Wyoming with which I was familiar at that time were also stunningly beautiful.

Greys River, just to the east of Star Valley

 Or perhaps because geysers and hot springs are not confined to just the Park in Wyoming. My childhood swimming lessons were in a pool that was filled from a hot sulfur spring that bubbled up from underground in the owner's pasture. Sure, we smelled like rotten eggs all summer, but after an hour in that pool, the usual cuts and scrapes acquired during outdoor play would be healed up from the healing quality of the sulfur in the water. My dad especially liked to relax right where the water came into the pool to soothe his aching back with its heat. There were also hot springs sprinkled throughout the forest in random places. So, geologic wonders weren't all that unusual in my experience.

So, my affection and personal connection to Yellowstone Park were born of being very protective of what I considered to be a very special place in the world, my home of Wyoming. Now that I've actually been to Yellowstone, and watched other people as they also viewed its many wonders, I realize that this Park is waaaay more significant than I could have realized as a naive little native-born Western cheerleader.

First, it was recognized to be absolutely unique and magnificent so early in its discovery by the white people who came out West from the rest of the United States. The early explorers who'd traveled there were thought to be exaggerating when they described it. The native people, Shoshone-Bannock, knew all about it and treated it as a special place too. So deciding to set it aside as a national park, a brand new idea in 1872, was pretty spectacular, and I feel grateful for those who made that decision.

As we traveled through the Park last week, it was immediately apparent that this was a "destination" visit for many, many people. We heard many different languages being spoken. We saw license plates from (almost) all 50 states, [we never saw Rhode Island to make our list complete...arggghhh.] and 6 provinces of Canada, and two states of Mexico! And buses filled with people who didn't want to drive themselves. Go to Yellowstone! "Thank you, we will," replies the entire world. And it is worth their time and trouble, believe me.

There isn't a single photo that we took that can do justice to any of the scenery we saw. Again, I've seen beautiful nature---but I continually found myself exclaiming, over and over, about what met my eyes around every turn, or at the crest of each hill. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere. There were huge meadows with meandering rivers that twisted and turned, creating oxbows and marshes. The mountains went on and on, craggy peaks fading off into the distance. Birds of all kinds were everywhere; fish jumped in the streams; brave little chipmunks sneaked around the parking lots hoping to find some treat.

Then---we finally managed to see a bear! A group of cars were stopped along the road, so we did, too. Just inside the trees we saw a young grizzly, shuffling along, turning over logs, stopping to sniff for bugs or berries. We also saw elk, which I've seen many times in my life, but seeing them lolling around on the grassy median and grazing on the lawn of the visitor's center at Mammoth Hot Springs was a new experience. The biggest thrill was driving through the Hayden Valley on our last day. It's Bison-Land there! We saw hundreds. At first, we were pretty excited to see one walking along the roadside while were approaching the valley, still in the forest. But, as we drove down into the open spaces, we were treated to groups of them speckling the meadows that stretched to the horizon. We got to park (in a parking space...) and stand on the side of a hill and observe a small herd as they lay chewing their cuds, rolling in a dusty wallow, and just looking back at us humans. It was a classic scene---fumerols were spewing steam, the river was flowing along, the meadows were green and speckled with flowers, and bison were lounging. It was classic Yellowstone!

So, I'll stop now...but, if like me, you've procrastinated going to see the original national park, then you must start planning now for your inaugural visit. It's SO worth it! I'll be back next summer, with CoolGuy, on the motorcycle. That is also a popular way to see it, believe me; there were biker tourists everywhere.

The affection I felt for "our" national park, when I was a child, had only been enhanced by finally seeing it in person. And now I realize that it doesn't just belong to us Wyomingites, or even us Americans. It's a world treasure. I'm proud to share it with you all. Now, go plan! Get up there! Don't be like me and wait 50 years.

 

 Bison near the Firehole River

  

 Yes, elk, just hanging out like cattle. Ignoring all the people who were taking their photos.