What I did on My Summer Vacation:

New Names and Unfaithful Geysers

by Jenn Young

I have a new name; henceforth, I shall be known as Jenn "I'm-going-to-throw-up" Young.

This attractive nickname was coined at Yellowstone Park, due to my complete intolerance for the smell of sulfur.  While my siblings merely looked disgusted at the smell, I gagged, choked, and was generally theatrical until we got back into the car.

This is still a very bad memory.

Yellowstone Park, however, is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been, despite the sulfur.

The Plan was, we would leave the house at eight (AM), get to Yellowstone at about eight or nine PM and set up the tent.

We got there at about eleven.  PM.  We did not set up the tent.  We slept in the car.  I guess you can't have everything.

Yellowstone Park is most famous for the geyser Old Faithful, which supposedly goes off every hour-and-a-half.  Here, however, is some information from the Yellowstone website:

"Old Faithful is not the largest or most regular geyser in the park. It has become a popular destination because it erupts more frequently than any of the other big geysers."

And I had brought my stopwatch, and everything!  This source goes on to state that the frequency of eruptions is directly proportional to the quantity of steam and water which erupted during the previous explosion.  Ahem.  Yes.  About half-way through our day there, we drove up to see Old Faithful.  We arrived at the site about thirty seconds too late.  Extreme annoyance ensued.  We decided to wait until the next eruption.

An hour later, it erupted again—we were, of course, there that time.  But man, it was very cool-looking.  (Here is a webcam that's trained on the geyser: http://www.nps.gov/yell/oldfaithfulcam.htm.  I'm suspicious of it, though.  I keep watching . . . and watching . . . and watching . . . and nothing happens).

Speaking of nothing happening: we did a great deal of driving.  I had initially tried to write, but when you are in a car and the road is bad your papers lo/\ok liK e th/\_is.  Therefore, I was required to find other ways to spend my time.

You will all be glad to know that I have discovered the answer to the age-old question: it is 212 licks to the center of a Tootsie Pop.  (If anyone else has come up with a different answer, I'd be delighted to hear it.  starchild@schoolofabraham.com)  I have a sneaking suspicion that I had far too much time on my hands.

We got to Yellowstone on Saturday night, which means that we basically spent Sunday driving around and being-one-with-nature.  We were driving down the road, and we saw this small sign, about the size of a yard sale sign, along the side of the road.  I did a double-take, and decided it couldn't possibly have said what I thought it had said.  Someone yelled, "Back up!"  Dad did.  Lo and behold, it did indeed say, "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  Sacrament meeting at 4:30."  Who'd'a thunk it?  Right there in the middle of a national park, amidst the trees and squirrels, seating provided on hewn log benches, with a canopy of leaves overhead.

We didn't attend, but the second time we drove past, we did wave and blow kisses. 

There were bison!  There were lots of bison!  Hundreds!  Thousands!  And verily, they were scary!  I was walking across a parking lot, see, minding my own business, and this bison just walks right up to me.  It was this close!  (Holds finger and thumb a millimeter apart)  Well, plus maybe five or six feet.  But it was quite frightening, especially since in every bathroom there were extensive warnings posted of the Extreme Dangers of Wild Rampaging Bison (as in, they are not just “cute little things”), and how we should be Very Careful to Stay Far Away from Them—complete with statistics on how many park visitors in the last decade and been gored, killed, or charged (other than on their Visa cards, I mean).

Along with bison, there were bears, birds, and miscellaneous other animals.  My father stopped the car as we were driving down the road, snatched up the camera, leapt out of the car . . . and came back fifteen minutes later to inform us that he had been photographing a bear cub.  (Pictures are at www.schoolofabraham.com/familyfun.htm).  Funny how none of the rest of us could see it – but then there were lots of other people haphazardly pulled off onto the bank of the road, restlessly fondling their cameras and trying to catch a glimpse of the creature, so there must have been something to his story.

My idea of an ideal vacation is a hotel roughly fifteen miles from home.  Continental breakfast, housekeeping, and swimming pools.  Instead, we headed for a park in the middle of Wyoming; no breakfast, no house (or room) to keep, and—though there was a lake—no swimming pools.  Was it fun?  Absolutely.  Did I like it?  Of course.  Would I do it again?  Eh . . . maybe.

One last thing that must be addressed: the stars.  If you look up at the sky at night when you are in Yellowstone Park, you can see hundreds of stars that you never knew existed.  Ah, the clarity of vision…  The comparative littleness of man and his paltry problems…  The astounding vastness of space…  The marvel of it all…  The immensity of literally billions of stars in the universe…  Never before seen colors in the sky...  It's stunning.

And what did this budding author say as she gazed up at all of this magnificence?  "It looks like the planetarium."

Well, it did.