BBQ and Bison Chips at Yellowstone

Early Independence Day, 2007. It’s 1:30am Mountain Time under a full moon, and I’m about to be freed from my life by way of a bison now standing in front of the car. I was sleeping, somewhat, before I heard the snort. Now, I’m dead still with legs propped upon car dash, not moving for fear of being crushed.

The trip started simply enough. 2300 miles originating from Kentucky with Yellowstone in the middle like a diamond in a road trip necklace. Stops in Saint Louis, Iowa, South Dakota, and now Wyoming, with Colorado and Kansas pending if I make it out alive.

Another grunt from the bison. What do you do? Scream? Run? Snap your fingers and disappear? None of those options proved the best. So I just sat still and waited. The giant creature turned broadside then galloped (do they gallop?) off to the darkness to holler some more.

Yellowstone should be it’s own country. Or at least state. It stands as one of the world’s greatest scenic treasures. Mountains, hot springs, geysers, wildlife, and waterfalls. Later that morning visited the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone and partook the upper and lower falls, regarded as two of the best in the country. A whole river plunges southward. A sight unlike any waterfall on the east coast with exception perhaps to Niagara. Then a view of water traveling skyward. On time, as usual, Old Faithful blew fireworks of its own for a Fourth of July crowd. Just wish I had bagged a certain furry friend for the BBQ…