I woke up in the morning to a scene
quite different from the previous night with light streaming into the
tent heating the small space until it was almost unbearable. Once
Geries was up I began getting ready for my trip through the park.
Geries decided that he just wanted to rest for the day, so I would be
exploring on my own. I set out shortly after and made a quick trip to
the Mammoth Springs Inn where I spent the best $3.38 of my life on a
shower after not having had one for a few days while we were camping.
Feeling rejuvenated, I began to drive
to Norris Geyser Basin, home of Steamboat, the largest geyser in the
world. Unfortunately while I was there there was no major eruption,
but the chances were pretty slim since the last one was seven years
ago. As if in a meek attempt to appease the hopeful crowds, Steamboat
let off some smaller eruptions hurling steaming water about ten feet
into the air every five minutes or so. It managed to keep me
entertained while I was there for about an hour catching up on blog
posts. Once I was finished and it was clear that I wasn't going to
catch a Steamboat eruption, I followed the creaking boardwalk through
the rest of Norris Basin. Without too many other park visitors around
it was kind of eerie walking through the scarred landscape with its
cracked and barren soil hosting only a few crippled trees that
sprouted between steaming pools of stinking water. I was thankful for
the boardwalk since just feet from the path I spotted several holes
punched through the rocky crust that seemed to extend deeper than I
could imagine. The path was littered with hot spring and geysers, but
one of the most interesting was Porkchop Geyser, which exploded in
1989, flinging rocks and debris at eight park visitors (thankfully
missing all of them). A ring of jagged rocks rimming a small blue
pool are the only remnants of the explosion.
Once I finished the short hike through
Norris, I went to check out some of Yellowstone's other diverse
landscapes. I soon found myself at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, a
glacier-carved gash that stretches for miles and houses the roaring
Yellowstone River. I took a quick stop at the brink of the Upper
Falls where the Yellowstone River dumps thousands of gallons of
frothing water into the base of the canyon below. The speed and might
of the river produced a deafening roar that echoed against the
surrounding cliffs.
Next I made my way to the south rim of
the canyon to visit Artist Point. I took a short hike along the rim
of the canyon to get there. Narrow and broken, the path wound along
the rim, occasionally brushing the edge long enough to get a view of
the falls behind and induce a sense of dizzying vertigo. I soon
reached Artist Point, which is a small outcrop of rock that juts into
the canyon, offering a view down its length, revealing the falls in
the distance and showcasing the beauty of the rift's sheer walls.
While the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone is tiny compared to its big
brother in Arizona, its multicolored striated walls are just as
striking, with vibrant oranges and sunny yellows contrasting nicely
with the green trees clinging to its rocky shoulders.
Intending to turn away from the rim and
head back to the car along the rest of the loop I was following, I
started down a trail past Artist Point. The maps were a little
misleading, however, and since I was unsure if I had chosen the right
path, I doubled back and followed my original trail back to the car.
Once back at the car I headed to Yellowstone Lake, which I don't
remember seeing on the previous trip. I chose a hike out to Storm
Point along the edge of the massive lake. From my view along the
path, the only land visible was Stevenson Island and the towering
mountains many miles in the distance. As I walked through a dense
forest that skirted the lake shore I was reminded of the trail
description that mentioned that the trail was usually closed in early
summer due to bear activity. Every creaking pine or gust of wind
became the signal of an approaching bear, and I found myself walking
faster until I finally broke out of the forest and made a short climb
to the tip of Storm Point. By this time the sun was low in the sky,
and the panoramic view of the vast lake was completed by the streaks
of sunlight reflecting off the wind fueled waves crashing against the
shore.
I enjoyed the view for a while,
gathering the courage needed to trek back through the supposedly
bear-infested woods when a couple of hikers showed up speaking in
thick Russian accents. I introduced myself to Alex and Isaac, and
after we all got some pictures at the point, I hiked back with them.
We had a nice talk, and the walk back seemed much short, and less
fraught with anxiety. We soon reached our cars and parted ways, but
it was nice to meet the two boisterous Russians.
From the lake I began the long drive
back to Mammoth along what I thought was the same path I had taken
out there. However, soon I saw snow drifts along the side of the road
where I could have sworn there weren't any before. It eventually
became clear to me that I made a wrong turn, but thankfully the road
I chose also led back to the campsite, so what could have been a long
delay turned into an opportunity to see some more of the park. Along
the drive through the Tower area I couldn't help but stop at almost
all of the pullouts I saw so I could get pictures of the sunbathed
meadows and towering peaks that I passed. Wildlife encounters slowed
my progress a bit, but it was nothing compared to the previous day.
When I finally arrived back at the
campsite, Geries was there with three newcomers, Leslie, Martha, and
Michael, who he had met that day on his travels in the campground.
It was cool to have some people to hang out with as we had our
dinner, and we ended up talking well into the night as Geries showed
Michael how to do star photography. We eventually said goodnight to
our new friends and got to bed so we could wake up early for the
drive to Mount Rushmore in the morning.
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