Yellowstone Nat'l Park, Part I: The Upper Geyser Basin 9/4/10

The National Park journey begins and ends with Yellowstone. Others might be your first, and one will certainly be your last, but when you scan the memories of past visits, nothing will quite measure up to that vast expanse of territory in the Northwestern corner of Wyoming. Sure, Yellowstone runs the risk of being more legend than fact - more anticipation than payoff - but here's to the true giants, the parks that dwarf the pretenders through sheer beauty and unparalleled awe. A dozen visits could never hope to get it all, of course, but we were pleasantly shocked that in our day and-a-half, few stones were left unturned, at least in terms of the "obligatory" elements that make up any guide book. We didn't hit the Tower-Roosevelt section, were nowhere near the Northeast entrance, and yeah, we missed a stamp or two (why, exactly, did we drive right by the Museum of the National Park Ranger?), but as we left for home, we had no lasting regrets. The weather held up nicely, the clouds parted, and the park traffic - always rumored to challenge one's sanity - flowed with effortless determination, as the occasional stray bison proved to be more upsetting than the motor vehicles.

Where to begin? While our visit technically began at Grant Village, our hearts first soared at the Upper Geyser Basin, perhaps the most interesting patch of earth we're likely to see in a lifetime. If you'll excuse the cliche, this place is like nowhere else on earth, and after finally getting here, we feel no guilt about saying that it's the duty of every American to make this trek before life passes you by. And while the leisurely walk must, by necessity, begin with Old Faithful, what does it say about a tour when the most famous part is arguably the least impressive? Needless to say, the ever-reliable standby is a treat (especially as the anticipation builds right before the next rush of water and steam), but the Basin has more impressive tricks up its sleeve, providing a virtual explosion of sights, sounds, and smells that make one feel as if they're on a movie set. Every ten feet one must pause and reflect that yes, one is atop a vast hydrothermal area containing 20% of the world's geysers, all of which hint at the potential destruction beneath their bubbly charm. We're standing amidst our eventual doom, but such news means little when you're dashing about like a sugar-soaked first grader.

It bears repeating that the long walk ahead of us was daunting for more than the expected reasons; after all, Brooke was still hurting from the severe ankle sprain inflicted at Grand Teton National Park. While the swelling was up and the discoloration expanded, Brooke was determined not to be wheeled around like a grandmother. As we made our way up the steps of the recently completed visitor center (it's a keeper), an audible snap instantly changed her mood. Not for the worse, mind you, but in the direction of greater joy. The snap, for whatever reason, made her gait less strained, and while still limited, she could push along at a decent pace. Instead of taking all day, this would be a jaunt, and one that would be absent the much-feared grunts and groans of the wounded. Inspired by her courage, we got our stamps at the VC and walked to Old Faithful. Again, the giddy crowds helped create a lasting scene, but we had more ahead of us than we had any right to expect.

Early on, the walking tour invites you to look upon Geyser Hill as well as several impressive Springs (Blue Star and Chinese). The distinctive odor is an immediate attention-getter, and from every corner, hot water shoots and spits from cracks in the earth. The foot bridge is a masterpiece of putting one right in the action, and despite the proximity to many of the bursts, no one ever seems to get wet. Close, but not quite. Walking further, we were surprised by what, for us, was the most active: the Sawmill Geyser. As it spewed and jetted forth, never seeming to tire, we couldn't get enough of its power, moving around to catch every possible angle. The slap and splash of hot water against rock and earth are instantly transformative, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to muster sufficient enthusiasm at future NPS sites. Of course you will, but you'd better put some time between them and this glorious natural wonder. Grand Geyser (worth waiting for, they say, but our timing was off) was next, followed by Beauty Pool and Giant Geyser. Not all of the geysers are as timely as Old Faithful, of course (some take numerous hours, even days, between spurts, while others along the way will keep you for several birthdays), but luck was often with us, as was the case with the spectacularly positioned Grotto Geyser and its uniquely shaped cone.

Reluctantly leaving Grotto behind, you pass the justly famous Riverside Geyser, right before hitting the end of the line: Morning Glory Pool. Pictures do capture some semblance of the colors on display, but until the naked eye has glanced upon the real deal, it's doubtful you've ever really considered nature's bounty. Blues, greens, and yellows have never been this potent, and like so much at the Basin, mere words fail to take stock. Just be quiet, block out the world, and stare. When so much of our lives are spent facing ugly urban squalor, graffiti, or the dirt-caked shells of modernity, it shakes us to our core that yes, we can leave it all behind for a bit and, well, look at this.

How does the brain process such imagery? Apparently, for some, Morning Glory has inspired vandalism and idiocy (over the years, countless items have been fished from the pool), but on this day, we simply smiled as content dopes often do, delighted that while we had postponed this trip for far too long, we were finally here. An icon not vanquished, but met on its home turf. It will be here long after we're gone, and for reasons unknown, such news fails to terrify. We're all due to be humbled now and again, and the Upper Geyser Basin is as good a place as any to be reduced down to our proper size.

FINAL RATING

10/10