The pinnacle of Human Existence

After cleansing our bodies and minds, we head out to the Mecca of Yellowstone, Old Faithful.  To get there requires a 45 minute drive from the campsite at Grant.  We cross the continental divide twice on the trip.  Once there, we experience something new for Yellowstone - tourists.  It is difficult to explain in words the difference between the vacationers and campers vs. the tourists, but trust me the difference is obvious here.  Additionally, this is the first time we see crowds.  The lodge is crowded, the visitor center is crowded and, of course, when old Faithful blows it is crowded.

Now, it's not so crowded that Isabella can't handle the scene, but is vastly different from the other parts of the park.  And the irony is that, after watching two eruptions of Old Faithful, I'm underwhelmed.  By the Park's own admission, Old Faithful isn't the most reliable geyser.  It probably isn't the largest, and by many accounts of friends that have travelled to the park it isn't the best geyser to watch.  With recommendations of other geysers to see in hand, we head back to the RV to check out one or two of them.  And here is where we learn lesson #3 - which is probably mostly relevant to those traveling with children.  Do not see Old Faithful.  At least not as your first geyser.  Because once you do, the kids will not want to bother seeing any more.  In their minds, they have seen the best one imaginable.  The pinnacle.  And given our long hike up Mt. Washburn yesterday, another forced march, no matter how small, was not in the cards.  So, back in the RV headed back to camp.

On the drive back, we agree that we will cancel our reservations for dinner at the Old Faithful Inn (and cross the continental divide two more times - which means probably more times than Lewis and Clark in their lifetime in one week).  Flush with time, we attack laundry.  We drop off our clothes and drive back to camp.  That's when the rigors of travel hit me.  So I lay down for a well needed nap.  

For those who don't know in our house I am in charge of laundry.  This happened early in our relationship, as I witnessed Kristin run lipstick through the wash twice while we were dating in college.  With that backdrop my day went into the double bonus when Kristin offered to complete the laundry.  She hopped on her bike and, with Kellen, rode to the laundry building to move the loads from washer to dryer.  45 minutes later, we was back on the bike, laundry bag under her arm, back to fold clothes. It took two trips to bring them home, but as I said earlier, this was a huge bonus for me.  We all chipped in folding and putting away the last load, and contemplate dinner.

There is a restaurant nearby, probably walking distance but we don't know the way so we drive.  We eat with a view of Lake Yellowstone, which gives us an excellent view of the rain storm heading our way.  It rains about 25 yards outside away for about 10 minutes before the building, and the path back to the RV, is engulfed.  We try to wait it out but loose patience.  So far, we have encountered some rain every single day of the trip, but none of it has affected our plans.  Until this day.  We planned on going back to the beach to star gaze, and that plan has just been cancelled.  

I run up the RV to try and  move it closer.  The elevation laughs at my attempts to breathe.  I've never been this out of breath ever, and in the span of about 300 yards.  I clamor to the RV but I'm unable to find the service road leading to the restaurant.  I call Kristin to tell her where I am, about 1/2 way from the original spot, and she meets me with the kids.  The rain ends early in evening, but we are exhausted and hit the sack.

One postscript - a friend (who I will refrain from outing) told me to bring my sleeping bag, because the weather would be perfect for sleeping under the stars.  Rob (oops), you're nuts.  The temperature went below 45 every night since the Badlands.  I'm more than happy with the tin roof over my head.