Where the dear and the antelope play

Since we were in the neighborhood, we spent a day in Yellowstone.  My dad is somewhat notorious for telling us that we’re going to go on a short “walk” or “stroll” that’s “just a couple blocks,” when really he means, “a lengthy excursion that will make you regret every single peanut-butter-covered, fudge-dipped, chocolate chip granola bar that you’ve ever eaten, ever.”  This particular hike was to Lone Star Geyser. 

Luckily, the scenery was spectacular, so my mom and I forgave him (we always do) for underselling the exertion factor.  “A stroll in the park,” he said.

Ha.

Miss Squiggles spent the first hour waving ecstatically to all the trees in sight, which (as you might imagine) became exhausting.

My dad carried the baby on the return trip, likely due to my inability to walk another step with thirty extra pounds peaking over my shoulder.

I begged my parents to drive past Hayden Valley to see these little fellas:

The valley is spectacular even without the thousands of bison grazing by the wayside.

We had a picnic by the river.  Don’t let the picture fool you.  Squiggles was mad that I picked her up for a picture… she was happily in the midst of returning every rock in Yellowstone to this river.

We timed our visit to West Thumb Geyser Basin to coincide with dusk… the prettiest time to visit this area, which is nestled right by Yellowstone Lake.  I love how the steam from the geysers creates a mystical effect while the sun is setting (not captured on camera… you must go there yourself to understand).  It is so beautiful and quiet and peaceful and other-world-ly.