Day 4 AM - Waterfalls

Kevin R. Crush blogging for June 24, 2008:

There was a beautiful sunrise this morning, though most were not up at 5:30 to see it properly. Instead, they bided their time patiently until the aroma of pancakes wafted in their general direction. As might have been guessed, both the aroma and its source soon vanished, falling prey to Troop 820’s ceaseless appetite.

While driving to Painter's Point in Yellowstone, scouts in the silver (read: cool) car were studying for the Nature Merit Badge, greedily gobbling any snippets of facts I and Mr. Seibt were able to distribute, ranging from Moon cycles to the food chain. While on the way, we spotted a crowd of tourists who had spotted at least one bear, and possibly three. Below is a picture of the blond bear, which came closest to the road.
Upon arriving to Painter’s Peak, I had complete ignorance of what I was to see. We went first to the Lower Falls, and my pulse literally quickened with what I saw. The canyon, plunging more than a thousand feet below the edge at some points, was draped in hues ranging from rusty red to chalky white and yellow, the colors were caused by dust washed by rain down the slope. Granite cliffs burst from the general slope, shaped bizarrely by the wind over many eons. Among all this, pine trees that knew no better were growing straight from the stone. A blue and swollen river at the bottom offset the fiery colors, completing a vista that does not abuse the word “awesome,” as tired a word as that is. I cannot say the same for several tourists. A road paved wide enough for a Hummer allowed any number of people to witness this handiwork of God. While it did allow physically disabled persons to access the place, it also permitted a number of those who were probably not as appreciative. “They ought to knock down these trees right here,” declared one, gesturing to a cluster of gnarly pines that had lived through dozens of Yellowstone winters and had rightfully earned their place in existence. He, however, ignored the fact that he could have taken three or four steps on a path someone else paved for him in order to get a sufficient view of the canyon.

After a steep hike down to the Lower Falls’ base, we went to the Upper Falls. We arrived at this one from above, and could clearly see the water rushing into the river below. Madly it went; the mindless fury with which the foam and water tumbled down below was frightening. A slip from the rails would certainly not to be to one’s benefit.

A Limerick of Old Faithful and Its Gift Shop

There once was a faithful old geyser
When compared to her spectators, was the wise
For when she did stop,
They went off to gift-shop
At a store that could make poor a miser.


Editors note - you will have to hold your breath for the rest of today's entry and the pictures - the Internet was especially poor all day long, so I am now posting this from my tent it is so late!

Roosevelt Tower