Here begins the story of (yep) yet another trip to Yellowstone.
I hadn’t originally planned to go to Yellowstone this year. Even doing a big summer camping trip at all was almost an afterthought, since back in the winter and spring, I was mostly focused on the hope that I would be able to reschedule my plague-canceled 2020 Italy trip for the fall of 2021. But at some point I realized two things: 1. There was too much uncertainty about whether that would work out or not for it to be my only 2021 vacation plan (and, indeed, I did ultimately resign myself to postponing it for another year); and 2. Regardless of the outcome of the Italy plans, I needed a major vacation sooner than September! So in February, I started thinking about maybe taking a trip to Glacier National Park this summer, since people keep telling me how much of a must-see destination it is. But when I looked into it, it turned out that it was already too late to reserve a campsite there. (Some other year, I decided.) So, in the end, I figured: Well, I STILL haven’t exhausted all the things that I’ve wanted to do in Yellowstone, so…
And I don’t know if Yellowstone was mad at me for only being my second or third choice for this year’s vacation destination, or thrilled that I decided to visit it YET AGAIN, or some of each…but it sort of seems like nearly everything about this trip was either charmed or cursed, and not much was anywhere in the middle. Well, okay…that’s definitely an exaggeration. But it FEELS true.
The first thing to go wrong happened before the trip even started. While I was packing and getting ready to go on the day before my departure, I discovered that my Kindle (which I only bought last year) seemed to have mysteriously disappeared. I had previously downloaded a library book to it that I’d hope to read while relaxing at my campsite in the evenings (etc.) on this trip. I searched everywhere, but I never did find it. I really can’t figure out what could have happened to it, and it’s pretty frustrating. So anyway, I had to resign myself to not bringing it along. (I did have a couple of “physical” library books to bring, but they were books that I wasn’t quite as excited about as the one that was on the Kindle.) Oh well. I was annoyed, but I moved on.
Sunday morning, July 11th I rolled out of my garage at about ten after nine and was officially under way. My first stop of the day was in Fargo for gas, and my second was at a rest area just west of Fargo, where I made myself a picnic lunch.
I want to say that I made Bismarck by 3:30-ish. In contrast to all of my previous Yellowstone trips, my stopover en route out there this time around was not at Theodore Roosevelt National Park (as their campground was closed for reasons that I don’t recall), but instead, the Bismarck KOA. There was a campfire ban in effect there due to drought conditions plus wind, but they agreed to let me make a small charcoal fire in one of the little grill thingies scattered between some of the tent sites, so all was not lost (although it meant I had to buy charcoal). Those little grill dealies aren’t great, and it took my burgers forever to cook…but cook they did. While I was waiting for them, I noticed some large birds puttering around in a nest way up high in a nearby tree. I couldn’t get a really good look at them, as you’ll note from the not-great picture that I took…but they were still cool.
Overall, the KOA provided a perfectly adequate first evening of camping. It was a far cry from a national park, of course, but it was pleasant, and I didn’t pass up the chance to take a dip in the pool before cooking my dinner and another one after eating. KOAs vary wildly; a terrible experience that I had with one back in 2011 (that’s right Pasco, WA—I haven’t forgotten you!) made me deeply wary of them, even. But this one was basically like a city park but with customer service…so, I’ll put it in the “charmed” column, campfire ban notwithstanding. The weather was beautiful, too; I didn’t even put the rain fly on my tent here. A few insignificant droplets of rain did fall in the morning while I was taking down and packing up, but nothing even really got wet.
Between not going as far on the first day as I have on other trips to Yellowstone, and my awareness of road construction going on in the park, I knew that day two was going to be a long day of driving. So I made sure to get an early start, getting up around quarter to six and on the road by 6:30 (central time). I fueled up again in Dickinson, SD. I was tempted to stop in Glendive, MT to take a picture of myself by some kind of sign or building with the name of the town on it, so that I could send it to my brother Ted with a “Bet you wish you were here!” caption (inside joke), but I didn’t want to spend a bunch of time driving around looking for a good backdrop, so I skipped it. I did briefly pull off the interstate in Miles City, MT to make myself a sandwich, but I hopped right back on the road and ate it while I drove. This was my mid-morning pre-lunch, intended to tide me over until I reached the spot where I wanted to stop for my “real” lunch since I knew I wouldn’t make it there until mid-afternoon. After that, my next stop was in Laurel, MT, just west of Billings, where my route dictated leaving the interstate behind and heading for Beartooth Pass. I obviously needed to fill up my gas tank before heading into the mountains, and I also took a moment here to get around to setting my watch and my car clock to Mountain Time. I believe this was around 11:30 am Mountain time (12:30 pm “my time”).
I hadn’t specifically noticed the smoke haze this morning, but when I realized that I couldn’t see the mountains from Billings—and even more, when I still couldn’t see them even as I headed south-ish out of Laurel on US 212—well, that was too weird to escape my notice. I had to keep reminding myself that there really were mountains just a little ways ahead, and that I would be among them before I knew it! But it looked and felt like I was still in the middle of North Dakota or something. In due course, though, the mountains did appear, and the drive up and over was as spectacular as always. It’s become a mandatory that I stop at the scenic overlook / rest area up there and get someone to take a picture of me at “my” spot, so of course, I did exactly that.
Not for the first time, but more intensely so than ever before, the rest of the day’s drive was characterized by a clash between the gorgeous scenery and the wearying frustration of an interminable slog at slow speeds in an annoying amount of traffic. There was a road construction delay coming down out of the pass and just a lot of slow going, and I was hungry and tired…but I finally reached Yellowstone’s northeast entrance, and stopped just a few miles inside the park at what has by now become my traditional lunch spot: the Warm Creek picnic area. Readers of my accounts of past trips may recall my description of how, in 2016, I was overcome by a feeling of homecoming, and what I could only describe as a “moment of pure joy,” when I got out of the car at Warm Creek. (If you want to be technical, that was actually at the Warm Creek trailhead on the other side of the road, not at the picnic area—but whatever.) I didn’t experience anything quite like that this time, but there was still a slightly surreal thrill of arrival…that sense of, after months of anticipation and two days of driving, here I was, actually in Yellowstone again! I ate my lunch (trying not to let the horseflies buzzing around the picnic table dampen my mood too much), and then, as usual, I put on my water shoes and went for a wade into Warm Creek.
I mentioned earlier that I had known in advance to expect road construction in Yellowstone. Specifically, I had been warned that the section of the northern loop road that heads south from Tower/Roosevelt to Canyon is entirely closed. This meant that I had to detour east to Mammoth and then south to Norris, from which point I could really proceed in either direction halfway around the southern loop to arrive at Grant Village, since I was going to be staying at Grant Campground. (I opted for the western route in the end.) This was a long detour at the end of a long day of driving—and to make matters worse, there had been an accident on the road to Mammoth, and traffic was backed up and crawling at a snail’s pace for miles. It was extremely frustrating! Once I FINALLY got past Mammoth and out of the insane traffic, things did get better. But it was still that confounding experience of being surrounded by awe-inspiring beauty and places with fond memories attached to them, and yet mostly just feeling irate and exhausted.
Eventually, of course, I did get there. It was later than I’d hoped (I really wanted to get to the back country permit office at Grant right away upon arrival, to get things squared away for the big adventure that I was planning for later…but long before getting to Grant, I realized and accepted that it was going to be closed by the time I made it there), but that’s just the way road tripping goes, sometimes. Doing my best to be “over it,” I informed myself about what time the office was scheduled to open in the morning and then set about the process of setting up camp, getting a fire going (no ban here!), and grilling up some brats. However trying the drive had been, I was here. Time to start relaxing and enjoying it!
NOT Glendive!!!!
This makes me miss the road trips back and forth between Phoenix and Morris.