Mammoth Hot Springs

You would think if you chose to go to Mammoth Hot Springs, you'd be going to see- well, hot springs, right?  You would, unless, you'd traveled through the town the night before.  And as you crept through the winding streets, bright beady eyes began freezing in your headlights.  We stopped and pulled over expecting to find deer.  But no, the piercing and glowing eyes, were those of a herd of elk- walking along the main street.  Yep, right on the boulevard, next to the Hotel.  The elk were everywhere.

I had to go back to see what our headlights hinted at the night before.

The town of Mammoth Hot Springs, is very picturesque, and yet deceiving in some ways.

These little red signs were everywhere, and if you look closely, so were mounds of elk droppings.

The historic hotel.  Rick had tried to get a room but it was booked.

The "park" across from the hotel that on first glance looks empty.

But then, as I switch to my long lens, I spot them.  And they have spotted us.  A crowd is beginning to gather across the street.  

And then we see him.  A bull elk.  And the female cows are in rut.  They are loudly calling out.  And he is whipping them into a frenzy.  

And that is when the park ranger comes screaming down the street with lights flashing on his car.  And he hollers at the crowd gathering.  "If the bull comes across the street, run for the store! Or get in your cars, but remember their feet and antlers pierce right through the metal of the car, you aren't safe in your car. Stay back!"  I am only a few feet away from where he stands and he graciously answers our questions.  The bull elk is 5 or 6 years old which is old in elk years.  He has 7 splits on his antlers.  The cows are just as feisty as the bull is.  The elk spend several days in the city at times, but go off to the mountains for days in a row too.  He said they have had 44 incidents to date this year, with elk damaging cars and injuring people.

It takes me awhile to realize, his job isn't to protect us from the elk, as much as it is to protect the habitat of the elk from us.  The elk are in charge, not the people.  When you live in a National Park like Yellowstone, every piece of nature is protected.  As a human, you certainly learn your place.

I was smitten with the whole show unfolding before our eyes.  I found myself so engrossed, fear played no factor.  I respectfully kept my distance, but was delighted with how close my camera could get me.

Back and forth across the path goes the bull elk.

And then he begins to chase and we prepare to take cover...

But then...  the cows decide enough already, and begin to cross the street right by where I am standing.  

She calmly turns her head calling...

And baby steps clumsily off the curb and follows along...

Momma number two stops to call out as well, and soon...  (the entire town just sort of comes to a standstill.) 

baby number two approaches ever so timidly...

And the bull is still chasing...

He gets right to the curb as the park ranger tells us to get ready to head inside... 

He gives one big call...

Stands there in his majesty... 

And then heads back into the park.  

The babies hurry off the opposite way to catch up with their moms.

We took that as our sign to head back to the lodge.  Through the car window we got a quick glimpse of the hot springs.  What you don't see are all the steps going up to the viewing area.  Another trip, another day perhaps.  There is so much more to the park to explore, but we are leaving early the next morning.  

We collapse in bed early, skipping dinner altogether and sleep with the sounds of Old Faithful spouting off throughout the night.  

Rascal Flatts, Stand

"Everytime you get up
And get back in the race
One more small piece of you
Starts to fall into place"

Slowly I am getting back to me... I just don't know it yet... but the pieces are starting to fall.  

Learning to Stand...

"When push comes to shove, you taste what you're made of. You might bend 'til you break 'cause it's all you can take. On your knee's you look up, decide you've had enough. You get mad, you get strong. Wipe your hands, shake it off. Then you Stand"  Stand, Rascal Flatts

It follows me everywhere.  Cancer.  There is no real break.  Its been a bad week for my stage iv cancer sisters.  Two of them have departed their earthly home, for their new heavenly home. So many have followed the journey of Jen Burgess Thompson and her loss has been felt 'round the internet and back again.  While breast cancer claimed the life of Hutch, another online cancer sister, two more breast cancer sisters have been told they are near the end of their battle.  I can't help but be profoundly sad.  My mind swirls with the weight of all that I can't possibly know... 



Yet, it steels me, girds me, fills me with resolve... somehow...  hurry up and get on with living.



A week ago, Sunday, Rick and I left for Idaho.  Having lived in Twin Falls for nearly 10 years, we are no strangers to the drive between Minnesota and Idaho.  Its 1135 miles, 18 hours, with few stops.  And its no cake walk.  


Our most intense day of driving turned out to be the first day of our trip.  Rick had reserved a room for us at Old Faithful Inn at Yellowstone Park.  Without stops, the drive would take 13 hours.  Even with an early morning departure, the sun began setting before we entered the park.  The entrance, tucked in between two mountain ranges on either side, was fraught with switchbacks, rockslides, and ever increasing elevations.  The threat of colliding with wildlife moving within feet of our tiny blue car, met us at every corner. It was pitch dark and spooky. The last 100 miles of our trip were slow and plodding, the whine of our Prius engine grumbling every time it was urged to to make the hairpin turn as the sides of the road fell away into steep gorges and canyons.

It was breathtaking and nerve-wracking all at once.  And when I say breathtaking... I was quickly reminded what high elevations were going to do to my lungs.  We arrived at 11 pm.  I loaded up with several bags to begin the walk to our second floor room.  My breathing became labored almost instantly.  I wheezed with every few steps, my lungs burning as they attempted to adjust to this sudden change in altitude.  

We tumbled into bed and woke early, as the sun ascended above the horizon.  I had to stop for a nose bleed, but with Old Faithful scheduled to go off, we quickly grabbed our photo gear, and headed outside.

It was crisp, cold, but clear.  And awe-inspiring to see Old Faithful, sturdy and reliable, spouting streams of vapor hundred of feet into the sulfur- infused air.

Invigorated, we decided to drive to a few sites and viewed more of the geyser basin.  We're treated to the sight of a herd of buffalo grazing near the road.  We stay in our car and watch and shoot.  The buffalo are unphased by the crowds of people and lines of cars.  They walk right in between the cars on the road, roaming the land freely.  

But the altitude was taking its toll on me.  Climbing the stairs to our room took major effort.  My heart beating rapidly, my air coming in gasps, the tears stinging my eyes.  Are my lungs scarred from all the chemo drugs I've ingested?  Am I just deconditioned- suddenly out of shape? Are more tumors rearing their ugly heads?  I simply don't know. I'm tempted to collapse in bed in defeat. 

And yet, curiosity gets the best of me.  I can't refuse when Rick asks if I want to explore the Inn with him.  My camera is firmly affixed to my neck. 

 We take it slow, his presence calming, his words soothing.  You can do this.  And I push ahead a little more...

It hasn't yet occurred to me... but Yellowstone Park is teaching me... I'm learning to stand...  stay tuned...