Friday, June 30

we head to (west) yellowstone


With Curtis' dreamy work schedule (I choose not to mention twelve-hour and graveyard shifts) and my recent switch from full-time to freelance writing, we were provided a four-and-a-half-day weekend with which we decided to enjoy the splendor of Island Park, Idaho, where the Smith Family owns what is arguably the best cabin EVER.

While there, we ventured to the top of nearly 12,000-foot Sawtell Peak and into Yellowstone National Park. Both were awesome. Atop Sawtell, I felt feelings and saw sights reminiscent of an excursion to Switzerland. Yellowstone was equally awe-inspiring. According the History Channel's show titled something like "Mega Disasters" it's gonna be a sad day for all of North America when that mother blows. (I'm speaking of the supervolcano that lies beneath it all, not Old Faithful.)

Like true biologists, we decided to take note of all the wildlife we observed over the course of the weekend:

  • 1 bald eagle
  • 1 frog (species unknown)
  • 1 gigantic porcupine, destined to prick Curtis
  • 1 moose
  • Approx. 20 elk
  • Approx. 100 dred-locked bison
  • 1 blue heron

Unlike the porcupine, Curtis was destined for the mud pots. As my friend David Whittaker once said as a young boy, "stinky things are cool." The same philosophy holds true for my full-grown husband.

Destination: Mud Pots was not a let down, in the least. With names like "Dragon's Mouth," the mud pots in Yellowstone are a real-life series of the Bog of Eternal Stench. "Smell Baaaaaaad" from childhood favorite "Labrynth" continually echoed in my head as I walked the boardwalks from stink pot to stink pot.

Signage informed us that if we so much as stepped one toe outside the designated pathway, we were likely to lose our limbs or our lives in the mineral-packed, bowely waters. The bison, however, were not daunted and continued to bask pool side-like near the gaseous, rumbling shores despite the Earth's delicate crust at such junctures.

On beast got up and decided to relieve himself right on the boardwalk; thus creating two unsightly obstacles: his waste and ... himself. That's when I decided it was time to get back to our thankfully airtight automobile. Like I said, "Smell baaaaaaad."

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