We left the quaint town of Buffalo Monday afternoon, drove through Sheridan and turned west for Yellowstone. The route we chose required that we drive through the Big Horn Mountains.

This region appears as just one of many generic green spots on the map. In reality, these mountains are anything but generic. Rather, they are towering, imposing, ancient. They are crimson cliffs, foggy canyons, rushing waterfalls, undulating fields of gold, shades of purple, with passes that require second gear. They are part of the most inspiring drive yet.

We’ve been listening to Howard Zinn’s A People’s History since we left Austin. Upon finishing chapters on the history of the civil right’s movement, we happened to visit Central Little Rock High School, the first school to integrate. Very apropos.
We finished the entire reading upon our approach to Yellowstone, and were thus inspired to listen to Rage Against the Machine. Perhaps it wasn’t the romantic experience one might anticipate having as they approached the country’s first national park, but it seemed to be appropriate in its own way.

We arrived at night, just before the clouds, and set up our tent at one of the two campgrounds that were still open, Lewis Lake. It rained through the night, and snowed fluffy fat flakes through the next afternoon. We decided that at least Old Faithful should be visited, regardless of the weather, and went. Bundled up on the platform with hot chocolate in hand, we watched as sheets of water shot into the white sky. Impressed and inspired, we spent the remainder of the day driving around the park to visit other geyser attractions. Artist Paint Pots. Mud Volcano. Waterfalls. Ours were the first footprints in the snow.
We knew it must have gotten cold that night, because our waterbottles, our rainfly, the cloth pulls of our tent zippers were all frozen stiff. The temperature sunk to a low of 6 degrees that night. We ate breakfast in the car, packed up camp, and drove through the magnificent Tetons. The words to describe their beauty are difficult to find. Huge. Glacial. Vast. Humbling.

We enjoyed breakfast in Jackson, WY. Next stop: Missoula, MT.