We drove right by it (the lake) and I wanted to jump in. Such a gorgeous landscape. The lake, which you can see in some but not all of the photos on the linked site, is a very pale greenish blue. *Sigh* Next time.
So by this time, we were almost at Yellowstone. We drove in, and immediately were in traffic. What’s the deal with this? I mean, we hadn’t hit traffic yet to this point except for construction at the Hoover Damn (UGH) a little bit in Tulsa, OK (rush hour + construction), and a little in Portland, OR (rush hour). It was Bison in the road. Yup. No construction. No rush hour. Just Bison. So cool. So we took a couple shots (pictures!) of the bison, and moseyed on toward our campsite. On the way, we stopped to see the Painted Pots and Old Faithful. Did you know that the stupid thing only erupts every 90 minutes, and despite what you would think, is not very predictable. The painted pots were so cool. The way that the minerals mix together makes a rainbow of bubbling awesomeness.
So were drivin’ drivin’ drivin’ and its feeling like its taking an awfully long time to find the part where we bear right into our site. We check the map, which is mildly informative, and the signs, which are practically non existent and also not informative, and keep going. We drove all the way through the west entrance and out the east. Yes, we drove all the way through (about 75 miles). UGH. So, by the time we got to the other entrance booth, we were furious. So we asked the ranger at the booth, who told us to open our maps to check out the “real map.” There was a map on the back of the brochure that looked as if it was the primary map, but I guess if you open it up there was a larger, more detailed map inside. That still, btw, sucked. So we drove, finally found the campsite, and were sorely disappointed. It felt like a crowded music festival. The whole site was as big as our tent with about enough room to set up the tent without stepping on anyone else’s tent, but little else. Our neighbors included an older couple with an RV(read: 40-55ish, not like, elderly, just older than us), a bunch of rowdy teenage boys that did not seem to have parents, and a nice couple of similar age and temperament to us (such a s sweet guy; lent the boyf an ax and then lent me some vegetable oil). I wouldn’t say that they were horrible people by any means, but my idea of camping does not include being able to hear the conversations of at least 6 different groups/families. And them being able to hear my conversation. I like the balance that I found at many other sites where you could come in, say hello to those within an earshot if you wanted, and then go about your business. Whatever. So while boyf is working on building a fire (giant treeless field+ relatively windy summer night=incredibly difficult fire starting conditions)….I go to deal with the shopping essentials (hotdogs, buns, wine, ice). 2 hours worth of fire failure later, I went to yet another bottle of wine. A bottle of wine a piece= no problems in the world. We made hot dogs, played iPhone poker (such a fun high tech in the dark), drank wine, and went to sleep. The evening was stressful (finding and dealing with the camp site) but we enjoyed the rest of our time at Yellowstone. In the morning we went to see the mud pits and the mud volcano. It smelled like horrible sulfur, but it was really cool to see mud violently bubbling up from the ground.
Our next stop was the Black Hills National Forest.
