• Adventures,  National Parks,  U.S.A.,  Wyoming

    Yellowstone, Part III: Where the Wild Things Are

    Driving toward Hayden Valley, legendary land of Yellowstone’s wildlife, I decided to temper my hope. I would, I thought, release my expectations. I wanted to see critters. That’s why I was awake before the sun, why I was already on the road by six something, but I knew better than to hope. Mercury was in retrograde. It had been a bad year and a worse month. I’d see critters or I wouldn’t. By that point, I’d spent two days wandering around the park hearing sticky children and their snot-nosed parents screech about wanting more, more, more from the park’s wild inhabitants and I refused to count myself among them. I…

  • Adventures,  National Parks,  U.S.A.,  Wyoming

    Yellowstone, Part II: Pillow Fights, Horde Evasion & Camping Cats

    In the immediate aftermath of a loss, you may find that you wake without remembering. Maybe it hits you within seconds, maybe it takes whole minutes. Either way, grief will strike. It might hit you like a wayward wave, bowling you over, ripping the air from your lungs. Maybe it’s a quick strike, less cinematic, more like a gut punch, a face slap, a snake bite. Or maybe it’s a slow swell, starting with a distant thunderclap of remembering, a realization that incites your hair follicles and slowly, relentlessly floods your consciousness. Maybe it’s not like any of that. Maybe it just fucking hurts. That first morning at Yellowstone, I…

  • Adventures,  National Parks,  U.S.A.,  Wyoming

    Yellowstone, Part I: Grief, Gurgling Geysers & Wolf Songs

    I was fresh off the loss of her, hadn’t made it more than 10 hours without a full-body cry and I was probably running from the devastating emptiness of a single-dog house. But, I was there, in Montana. Work sent me there, and I, being an opportunist, added an adventure to the backend of the work. It was a decision I’d made before I lost her, one I kept in the immediate wake of the loss. An escape, I thought, might help with the healing. Work completed, bags packed, grief riding shotgun, I headed south to Yellowstone National Park, a place I’d never been before.