109 Yellowstone, Land of Mud pots and Maybe a Geyser or Two

My memories of Yellowstone go way back to the ‘50s when I was just a kid and my dad took our family into that magical land of sulphur pots and geysers.  And where else could you get to see buffalo and elk or maybe even a grizzle close up.

The fond memories of that first trip never left me and it was with great anticipation that as soon as we were able, I set off with my wife and three kids to relive those childhood adventures.  We took off in our ’74 Ford Super Cab, with all three kids jammed into the back seat, and away we flew towing our little Parklane tent trailer.

Our trip took us along the southern route, over Crows Nest Pass and by the historic Frank Slide.  This was an amazing natural disaster and it was quite a sight to see those tons of limestone boulders scattered over the dark soils of the prairie floor.   We passed by with a sense of awe as we realized except for the minors working the mine, the whole community lays buried under millions of tons of pure white limestone rubble.

After passing through the Canadian part of Glacier National Park known as Waterton we crossed the US border and on into Glacier National Park, traveling west on the Road to the Sun and over the amazing Logan Pass.  This took us to Kalispell on the western side of the Rockies and enabled us to enter Yellowstone through its western entrance.

The kids had a great time traveling the trails to the various geysers but thought the mud pots burping away like giant pots of pudding, were the coolest thing imaginable.   What really turned them on was the heavy odor of sulphur that made the surrounding area stink to high heaven of rotten eggs.

Bobby had just gotten his right leg broken while playing soccer at school and I can still see him with his permed hairdo, the latest fashion for a thirteen year old, whipping along on crutches.  He wasn’t about to let that slow him down as we went from one deep azure hot spring to the next and saw some of the most spectacular colors of blue contrasted with the bright orange clays lining their bacteria laden depths.

During our five days in the park we were warned to watch out for grizzle bears, and in fact not allowed to camp in certain campsites as we only had a soft-sided tent trailer.   However, we never even saw the backside of one.  That was probably a good thing as we now have the anticipation of seeing our first one the next time we visit the park.  What we did see, and I am sure no visitor would leave without seeing, was Old Faithful do her stuff.  It was quite exciting to go through the count down and see Old Faithful come through as she has been doing for countless millennia.

What most people don’t realize is that Idaho has some neat stuff too.  It was more by accident then planning that we went through the Crater’s of the Moon Preserve on our way home.  This was an amazing area of 618 square miles of flooded basalt one of the best in the continental US.  We had an amazing time exploring the lava tubes and climbing the cinder cones.  Some of the lava tubes went for close to one thousand feet and many still had ice in the bottom do to the great insulation properties of the lava, even though it was the middle of July and in the 90’s.

The road home took us not far from Camas Prairie and the little town of Fairfield where I had spent the summer of ’65 falling trees with Richard Williams. This gave us the opportunity to say, “Hi!” to Joe Baker and his wife.  It was fortunate that we stopped when we did as Joe had some serious health problems and I was happy that I was able to wish him and his wife well.  He had in his own way befriended us during my days as a poor student, and I knew I would never see him again.

It was just a summer trip with the family, but it is times like these and the connections that we make that give life it’s meaning.  I will never forget that summer holiday and the fun we had as a family.