7/4/15, “Here We Are”
Mammoth Hot Springs, Wyoming (Yellowstone National Park)
There was is an apocryphal story about this day in history, 239 years
ago, that King George wrote in his journal, “Nothing of significance happened
today.” First of all, news took weeks or
months to cross the Atlantic, so there was no way he would have known about
that famous document that begins, “In CONGRESS, July 4, 1776,” and he actually
did not even keep a journal. Today, news
travels around the world in seconds, and I keep plenty of journals. This one, the one that I share with the
public, the one that details my travel adventures has plenty to say about
today.
After I closed last night, I went
back in my cabin and, I don’t quite recall how it happened, but, my computer
slid off the bed, damaging it badly. A piece was cracked, and I was worried it would stop working at any moment. It has held up so far. My stress continuing, I went back to sleep,
hoping everything would be better in the morning. It was.
I had a great breakfast, consisting of coffee, Montana grain pancakes,
bacon, and eggs, all delicious. We went
the Old Faithful VC where I got my brochure and did my WHS stamping. We were soon on the road.
We set out to collect six Stamps and the
Plaque today, but the trip is about more than Stamps and Plaques. It was about enjoying the natural beauty of
the region. We did it all. Our first stop was the VC at Madison, where
there was a charming little basin of water and a mountain called National Park
Mountain. Apocryphally again, this was
the spot where the National Park was invented.
For my first cigar of the day, I chose an ESG, and we walked around a
bit. We then got in the car and headed
towards the West Entrance.
There was
lots of traffic going the opposite direction, and there was a long line at the
entrance station. The stamp was outside
the park. One thing led to another, and
we decided we’d get lunch in town in West Yellowstone, Montana, where we’d get
the stamp, and, by then, the traffic would die down. West Yellowstone was everything we hoped
Jackson would be, and we had lunch at a charming cowboy restaurant. I got the bison steak, which was quite
decent. We then headed back into the
park, and we had gambled right.
The
traffic was gone, and we went to Norris Geyser Basin, which had a stamp and
some scenic walks, where we could literally feel and smell the sulfur from the
geysers. I chose a Headley Grange for
the walk, until a ranger told me that I couldn’t smoke it in the geyser
area. We went back to the car, and I
finished it en route, sticking my head out the window to smoke. There was another nearby stamp at the Museum
of the National Park Ranger, which was a charming old backcountry ranger
cabin. Our next and final stop would be
Mammoth Hot Springs, the main village inside the park. I have been rather light on details, both due
to time constraints and because words cannot really describe the idyllic beauty
of these drives and walks. Pictures can
come closer, but they fail, too.
We made
our way to the Albright VC, where the Plaque was alleged to be. I had figured it would be outside. No dice.
I went inside and still couldn’t find.
I started to panic. I implored my
mother to find me the Plaque, as she had so many times before. She asked at the desk, and they said it was
downstairs. We went to the bookstore,
bought some gifts, got my stamp, and then headed downstairs. We were both appalled with the lack of respect
they showed the Plaque, squirreling it away next the restrooms. With some difficulty, we managed to get a few
good pictures, but the disappointment of this charming village soon grew. We went for ice cream, underwhelming. The general store had some souvenirs, but it,
too, was disappointing. We gassed up,
and I calculated that the tank was simply registering an extra 4 gallons of
gas, which meant we could only ever fill it up to three quarters of a tank.
Since I couldn’t smoke at the hot springs, we
took a walk along Beaver Ponds Trail, which afforded nice views of the hot
springs. That was where I smoked my
Cuban for the National Park, an Hoyo de Monterrey. After we were done walking, we headed back,
and my mother went into town, while I went across the street to find a bench
with a nice view, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close
so that we can begin to make our way back to the hotel.
I have frequently written in my personal journals about pure happiness
and pure good, about how rare it is for me to feel pure happiness for any
extended period of time, about how there are so few relationships (by which I
mean any type of relationship, romantic or otherwise) in my life that a pure
good, that most relationships have a mix of good feelings and bad feelings,
that I choose the relationships that provide more good than bad.
Along those lines, one of my happiest travel
memories was during the greatest of our summer road trip adventures. It was at the Grand Canyon 14 years ago (not
16 years as I had thought). I woke up
first thing in the morning, remembered where we were, and just ran outside to
see the Canyon, which was visible from just outside our cabin. I was so happy to be there, and it was a pure
happiness, no nagging doubts in the back of my mind about work or girls or
money, just a wide-eyed 13-year-old excited to be at the Grand Canyon.
I suppose I had a similar experience with Old
Faithful this morning, though it was not pure happiness, but it was still
happiness. The geyser is visible about a
minute from our cabin, but we did not see it erupt until this morning, after
breakfast, only catching the tail end of it.
We again only caught the tail end of it this evening. It is called Old Faithful for a reason, and
I’m sure we’ll see the full eruption at some point. A year ago tonight, I was at Juneau with
Sokol, enjoying an Opus X outside Juneau, having a conversation that would wind
up shaping the next six months of my life and the three months afterwards
during which I dealt with the fallout of those three months.
Tonight, I sit here alone in Yellowstone National
Park, enjoying a Davidoff, and I am finally happily alone, both physically
right now and in general. “To say ‘I
love you,’ one first must know how to say the ‘I.’” I have never had trouble saying the “I.” With this Independence Day, I will focus on the
“I,” on loving myself and the few people in my life who truly add value to my
life. You know who are, there are only
ten of you in the world. If you are not
one of those ten people, do not think that even ties of blood will make a difference.
Okay, so after I closed, we headed to Fort
Yellowstone, which used to serve I guess as the civil headquarters of the Park,
and I finished my cigar there. We then
headed back to our hotel, and Old Faithful was about to erupt when we got
there. The time it took us to drop off
our bags and grab our drinks caused us to miss the beginning of the
eruption. I lit up a Davidoff and headed
to the Snow Lodge, where I could get Wi-Fi, had the rest of my cigar and drink,
and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can
publish.
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