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America's first

Nick Rotunno | Hagadone News Network | UPDATED 13 years, 2 months AGO
by Nick Rotunno
| August 18, 2011 9:00 PM

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America's first 2

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America's first 3

Old Faithful was about 20 minutes late.

We stood on the wooden boardwalk that rings the legendary geyser, surrounded by fellow tourists. My stepsister, Sarah, chatted merrily with a few friendly Minnesotans, but I was too impatient for small talk.

Where was this thing? It's called "Old Faithful," for crying out loud.

Then the geyser spouted, briefly. It gurgled something to itself. It smoked and steamed and burped. A little wave splashed onto the tan-colored rocks.

Here it comes, I thought. The great eruption.

Water sprouted from the geyser's mouth. The stream began to rise, higher, higher, climbing slowly toward the clouds. Mist fell softly, like spring rain.

And then it ended. The crowd thinned out, headed for breakfast or another cup of coffee. I strolled back to the lodge.

It was my first visit to Old Faithful, the most famous geyser in the world. I allowed a small surge of national pride. Here, in the smoldering crevices of the Yellowstone Caldera, lay the beating heart of America.

I could cross Old Faithful off the bucket list.

•••

The western entrance of Yellowstone National Park is about 430 miles from Coeur d'Alene, as the raven flies.

That translates to a roughly 7-hour drive, considering gas stops and bathroom breaks and a couple runs through the Starbucks drive-through. The quickest route curves eastward on I-90, then turns south onto Highway 287 between Butte and Three Forks. The scenery is pure Big Sky Country, dry plains of sagebrush and rolling ranchland, mountains on the horizon.

Sprawled across the northwest corner of Wyoming and southern Montana, Yellowstone is not close - it's a much longer journey than a quick trip to Glacier - but it's not too far, either, and North Idahoans shouldn't be deterred by the distance.

America's first National Park is well-worth the long drive.

Before my family and I toured the area last week, I had never explored the Yellowstone country in the summertime. My only experience with this land of geysers, mountains and buffalo came in January 2008, long before I moved to Idaho, when I voyaged across the plains with a student group from the University of Iowa. That trip was very cold - we camped in the snow for three nights, shivering all the while - but beautiful, and I fell in love with Yellowstone's vast, rugged landscape.

The warm months, I quickly discovered, are very different. On a sunny day in August, Yellowstone National Park is not the emptiest place in the world.

Driving east from West Yellowstone along a narrow highway, we ran into a traffic jam that would've made Los Angeles proud. Cars, trucks, RVs and tour buses were stalled bumper-to-bumper, mile after mile. My step-dad, Larry, warily steered the Honda into line, and after 20 minutes we had barely rolled 100 yards.

Crowds aren't really my thing. I prefer backcountry, solitude, silence.

Yellowstone was getting on my nerves, and we had only just arrived.

Eventually the traffic moved forward, grudgingly. We passed the culprit: A road crew chip-sealing the highway, working at a very unhurried pace.

Past Madison Junction, though, the traffic wasn't a problem. We had breached the park's defenses. Larry steered past Norris and toward Canyon Village, gateway to the breathtaking Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone.

High above the great chasm, we reached an overlook and watched the majestic Upper Falls, white and graceful as it plunged to the canyon floor. A steep half-mile trail led to the brink of the falls, where green water slid swiftly over the precipice.

Peering over the railing, I felt my head spin with vertigo.

•••

One thing about Yellowstone: You can always, always find a gift shop.

For all its 2 million acres, the park is remarkably developed. Every major attraction - the Grand Canyon, Old Faithful, Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone Lake - offers food and lodging.

At any given crossroads, visitors will find a hotel or inn (Old Faithful has three), a massive parking lot, and a complex of museums, cafeterias and souvenir shops.

And there's people - at peak season, hundreds and hundreds of people.

But a venturesome hiker can still find room to breathe. Yellowstone's trail network reaches deep into the backcountry, crossing terrain few visitors ever see.

On day 3 of my four-day trip, I hiked a scenic six-mile trail with my girlfriend, Kayla, and Sarah. We followed a dusty track through short new-growth forest, not far from Canyon Village. Bear spray dangled from my pack, but we didn't see anything big.

The trail ended at picturesque Grebe Lake. The water was tranquil and ringed by marshy meadows. A few campsites dotted the shoreline.

Backpackers can rest at Grebe before striking deeper into the park's interior, but we turned back toward the road and headed for the car.

Just a few miles into the woods, we had finally found some peace and quiet.

•••

John Colter was the first non-Indian to explore the Yellowstone country, way back in the winter of 1807.

An expert hunter and frontiersman, Colter had journeyed west with Lewis and Clark's Corps of Discovery before striking out on his own. He returned from the mountains with tales of geysers, smoking thermals and water that boiled from the ground.

For many years, fur trappers referred to the Yellowstone area as "Colter's Hell."

The national park was established in 1872. Since then, Yellowstone's popularity has exploded, with travelers from around the world visiting the park every year.

More than 3.5 million people traveled through Yellowstone in 2010, according to the National Park Service.

It is a place of scenic grandeur and roaming wildlife. We saw elk, pronghorn and hundreds of buffalo. My parents spotted no less than three bears, one of them a grizzly.

Kayla and I drove through the Lamar Valley on our final day, where I had once seen a pack of gray wolves on a frigid winter morning. Buffalo blocked the road when we passed through.

Shaggy and lumbering, they grunted and rolled in the dust as Kayla snapped photographs.

Passing beneath the Roosevelt Arch at the northern entrance, I was reluctant to leave Yellowstone National Park. There was so much to see and do, we had barely scratched the surface.

Sure, the drive was long and the crowds were thick, but the trip had been a lot of fun. I thought of the hiking trails I had seen, the long, winding loops through beautiful country. I thought of the rustic lodges, the bubbling thermal features and crystal-clear waters of the Yellowstone River.

I was already planning another vacation.

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