Without further delay, we headed down the road for the primary appointment for the day with Old Faithful. It would be delayed, but not significantly. Hayden Valley emerged from the pines in short order, showcasing an expanse of the caldera flowing in every direction. The first encounter with the public appeared just about that time. A swarm of bison loitered about a mostly dry creek bed there, looking forlorn and disappointed that there was no mud for wallowing. Sensing this discontent, we did not linger for long. We were already behind schedule too and knew full well there would be other encounters. Indeed, only a few short miles away a crowd had gathered to observe a singular grizzly romping about the grass in search of snacks.
The Sulphur Caldron popped up just around the bend and with no other witnesses, we stole the opportunity to enjoy the scene and associated delightful odor saturating the area. Others witnessed this feat and decided they too might enjoy such smells too and soon the area was overrun, forcing us to move on. The Mud Volcano offered some amusement a little further down the road. It had already been attacked from both sides, though the parking area remained mostly occupied.
Traffic around West Thumb remained as confused and erratic as had appeared previously, though still nothing more than a small squall. Having seen a general outline of that environment, we chose to push on, pausing only one other time. Kepler Cascades stood mostly abandoned, excepting a mother-daughter pair that quickly withdrew at the sight of our ragged crew. We amused ourselves momentarily, then quickly evacuated too, arriving at Old Faithful at just exactly the right time, with 10 minutes to find ourselves a seat for the show.
A mass of humanity put in an official appearance at the site of Old Faithful. Everyone had it on their agenda for the day. Crowds failed to live up to their gross reputation, though did taken on a frightening appearance for one. A small avian breed worked diligently to collect a few things, until turning around to find an unexpected accumulation of humans staring him down. Hunkering down behind a spray of grass enabled some security for the poor fellow for him to randomly screech his discontent throughout the performance.
The lateness of the hour suggested that any lollygagging be set aside for another day as we turned our attention to making it back to base camp before dark. However, what was to have been a brief encounter to survey the situation at Norris Geyser Basin, turned into a challenge in wayfinding. Looking out at the basin encouraged a brief tour into the associated landscape, past the Crackling Lake, ending up in the Porcelain Basin. The plan to return and observe the remainder on another day ran aground at Steamboat Geyser. We realized then and there that we probably should have taken that left turn in Albuquerque.
Cutting across Norris Canyon Road and pausing only to note the prevailing direction of the Virginia Cascades, we arrived back at base camp much later than originally intended. It mattered little. The Canyon Village Cafe stood patiently waiting with its amazing selection of mediocrity that we spent little effort happily devouring. From breakfast until this juncture there had been a collage of snacks and previously prepared roll-ups.
The day that had lazily wandered across 160 km from 0830 to roughly 1930 enabling a great deal of exploratory enjoyment. A clear sky throughout almost all of the day, with temperatures reaching into mid-20s Celsius induced little care beyond seeing what the southern loop had to offer. More than enough captured the imagination, leaving space for future exploration. Not this time though. Tomorrow we would travel north in search of the Mammoth terraces.
. . .
Further Reading
US National Park Service
US National Park Service
US National Park Service
US National Park Service
US National Park Service
US Geological Survey
US National Park Service
US National Park Service
US National Park Service
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