Yellowstone Lower Loop

Yellowstone.

This is the most accurate poster I’ve ever seen.

We flew across the country. And drove across Montana. And halfway across Idaho.

To see Yellowstone.

And after 4800 hours of traveling. We rolled into the Air bnb. Where Host wanted to chat. For hours. While showing us all of the features of the unit. Which included a copy of his Latin Jazz album.

Cool. You go away now.

But also gimme one of those CD’s, please.

Some is us woke up at 4am. The next morning. Because that’s what we said. And maybe just sat there for two hours. Being quite pleasant. And not at all pissy. Waiting for everyone else to wake up.

And then we drove for 50 more hours. To go to Yellowstone.

Here’s the basics.

You will spend hours sitting in traffic. Inching your way to the first intersection. Just staring at miles of pine trees. Hoping for something to walk by. A bear. A moose. A squirrel. Can we get a fucking chipmunk, at least?

And then when you do finally get to see a bison. Park Ranger is going to yell at you for looking at it. And tell you to violate the speed limit to get your ass out of there.

Then you’re gonna be duped into stopping to look at the painted pots. Which are just large collections of bacteria. That smell like farts.

Seriously. The whole park just smells like farts.

And you will have the urge. To push one or more people. Mostly children. Off of the walkways. Into the fart mats. Because they have no awareness of the world around them.

You’re not supposed to touch the fart mats.

Rogue wanted to touch the fart mats.

And then your dumbass is gonna dutifully visit Ole Faithful. And you’re going to sit in the rain. Waiting. And hoping that it’s better than the fart mats.

It isn’t.

And you’re gonna wanna take one of the children. And toss them into the disappointing fire hydrant. And walk away mumbling something about situational awareness.

And you’re gonna spend an unreasonable amount of money on a cappuccino.

You don’t even drink cappuccinos.

But caffeine is the only way you’re gonna make it out of this park without falling into a disinterest coma.

And you’re gonna spend days driving around that park. And never finding a way out. Because you live there now. In the place that smells like farts.

And maybe you shouldn’t have just watched Wayward Pines right before this trip.

But you’ll probably see a moose. When the park rangers aren’t looking. So you can stop and take a picture.

From the safety of your car. Because you’re not a dumbass.

Even though you apparently look like one.

I swear to fuck if one more person looks at me and says, “Ok, but don’t touch the grizzlies…” ima go touch a grizzly. Because that’s how I’m made.

Anyway. We did one of the dumbass Yellowstone loops. Here’s what it looks like.

(And for real, you actually can just boil water at home.)

Entering Montana. Where you’ll spend the next fifteen hours just looking at these pine trees.
That’s the bison you’re not supposed to look at.
West Thumb. Where the view shows you the mountains you could be visiting. If you’d just leave Yellowstone.

We’re gonna go back on Friday. To do the other Loop. Because we don’t learn quickly.

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