Lucy Jensen
Lucy Jensen

Before I leave the majestic area of the Grand Tetons, it would be remiss of me if I did not mention the magnificent Wildlife Museum, situated outside of Jackson or Jackson Hole. If you are an animal lover, this is your place. Statues, sculptures, paintings, photos depicting the area’s creatures — all types of media to delight you — and some were even for sale! (No, I didn’t!) In my opinion, it was a treat beyond treats and way superior to Jackson Hole itself — the winter hole for the rich and famous that reminded me more like Jackson-by-the-Ski than anything else.

It was hard saying goodbye to the Tetons, but it was time to go and visit a very important piece of my bucket list for life — Yellowstone National Park. Since 1872, grizzly and black bears, wolves, mountain lions, elk, bison, pronghorn, moose and bighorn sheep can be found within this beloved and protected slab of over 2 million acres that became a UNESCO world heritage site in 1978, preserving its natural phenomena and species for generations to come. I had finally arrived in this place. “Oh, seniors!” the smiley park ranger lady greeted us at the entrance like celebrities. “You only pay $20 and that will get you into any national park for a whole year!” What a deal. I almost started planning my next national park adventure.

We were staying in a cabin at Yellowstone Lake, apparently the largest high-elevation lake in the lower 48 states, if you like a factoid or two. (Elevation alert — we are not used to being at 7,000-8,000 feet. It makes you feel odd, light-headed and wispy!) But the cabin was warm and cozy with its own bathroom (such a concept after the dude ranch!) Though it was all a bit end-of-season, the dining room at the hotel was closed and we had to go to the hotel down the road to snatch any type of Wi-Fi, we loved our little snuggy cabin.

We opted for an organized day bus tour of the park, since we would have been overwhelmed with routes, had we taken ourselves off like a couple of day trippers and we didn’t have that long to explore. Everywhere we went, there were hot springs, mud pots and geysers. It was 30 degrees outside, and all those hot spouts gave you a feeling of being somewhere very special. Old Faithful took her time to arrive, but we had been waiting patiently for her on the front bench at the geyser site, as had 1,000s of other wannabe geologists and, when she ultimately showed up, she did not disappoint. Just about every hour, she rumbles and rocks and spurts to the delight of the crowd. I was glad to finally meet her. My personal favorite of the tour, however, was the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River with its crashing waterfalls and photographers dream colors and shapes. Had we not been on an organized tour, I would likely still be there trying to take that perfect shot with my smart phone.

It was, sadly, time to pack up and go. We opted for an early exit, since I was still on my bear hunt (having only seen bison thus far). I had wolf and bear envy of photog friends of mine who had been there before me. And our early exit was definitely the way to go, as herds of snowy laden bison came down out of the hills and stopped traffic. Us early folk were so delighted! Next, we saw elk beautifully positioned in the crisp wintry light of the new dawn. Deer were chewing on the hillsides in huge abundance, and I was proud to be able to capture a masterful image of a bull elk drinking from a pond, his perfect reflection in the water making me squeal with pleasure. Magic, magic, magic. There was so much wildlife wild and free before us that I didn’t really want to leave, except that we had young people arriving at Billings Airport in the afternoon and we would just have to be happy for now with the many tastes of Yellowstone that we enjoyed. I felt happy knowing that the species that were in the park in 1872 were still in the park today. It’s lovely when humans do something right.

As we edged out of the park toward Billings, we came across another legend in the maps of many, the Beartooth Pass (elevation 10,947 feet). It’s just as well that I had only given our paper map a cursory glance when planning our exit from Yellowstone because I would certainly have taken the long way around, no matter how long. With its fierce curves and unforgiving bends, not to mention sheer drops to a certain death, my normally stoic husband noted that he had never been so terrified in his whole life. I myself am scared of heights and had never been so wobbly trying to navigate through that death trap without vomiting or getting vertigo. Every time I thought it had to be soon over, we would turn a curve and see more hairpin bends climbing above us, the skinny roadway not accommodating the modern-day trucks and monster mobiles barreling towards us on our side of the road. (I later found all measure of clothing promoting the pride you feel when you successfully make it over Beartooth!) Yeah, been there, done that. Won’t be making that journey again! (The pass was closed a couple of days later because of snow and ice — truly the stuff that nightmares are made of!)

Fortunately, we had given ourselves extra time and were able to check into our civilized hotel with pool in Billings and then head over to pick up the young people from Billings airport who were just starting out on their two-week vacation. Aaron’s family lived in Billings and we enjoyed a few days of visiting with his family, (including a day trip to the lovely Red Lodge) and then it was time for the Jensen clan family vacation (a little like National Lampoon’s but with a better vehicle) to hit the road again.

The orange and black roof storage bag was put to the test in a huge rainstorm as we packed up to head out of Billings. Soon we were out on the road in Big Sky Country, as they call it, and they don’t lie. The skies are definitely much bigger in Montana and the wide-open terrain so broad and endless with forests up to the skies and lakes and streams everywhere below. We were headed to our Air B N B in Helena for a brief respite before the birthday celebrations began. And there we found paradise.

(Another “Mapping” will publish next time. Don’t worry, this won’t go on forever!)

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Soledad columnist Lucy Jensen may be reached at [email protected].

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