Yellowstone

We drove to the cabin. The road, no more than a dirt path, was surprisingly rough, not even safe to drive on. The potholes, or rather dirt holes, were so deep that one of them could seriously damage my sports car. I was miffed to say the least. I didn’t expect such a terrible road in such a popular tourist attraction. Oh well, you can’t expect too much from the government.

But we were truly in nature out here. Our cabin was one of many spread out far behind the main lodge. I unlocked the cabin door and my girlfriend walked in. I didn’t like the looks of the place. It was more of a cheap motel room than it was a rustic cabin, and the exterior had a thick coat of paint, so it reminded me of a shed my family had when I was growing up. I couldn’t believe how much I was paying for this room. Thankfully, we were staying here for only one night.

I brought all of my bags in. Gloria had taken over the bathroom, and I was disgusted by the room and still upset about the road.

“I’m going for a walk,” I said.

She said okay. I couldn’t tell whether she cared that I was leaving, and I didn’t care anyway.

I walked down the road, to see what was down that way. The trees here were so large and thick that almost every square inch was shaded, a dark blanket from the summer day. How ironic it was, because I came here for both big trees and a strong sun.

I walked pretty far and I was seeing more of the same, “cabins” and cars and trees. Everybody seemed happy, and I wondered how long some of these people had been here, for they seemed quite settled in.

I turned around and headed straight for the main buildings, where I was less than an hour ago. I was heading for the restaurant and lounge building that I had been in. I picked up the pace now.

And soon, I came upon what I was hoping to find, a short cut—in this case, a narrow dirt walking path. This path branched off from the road and headed up a hill. The terrain was uneven. But the path itself took a straight shot to the buildings, even giving a view of the backs of the structures.

Although the path was bumpy and sometimes hard to see and the behind the scenes tour was not a pretty one, this part wasn’t as bad as it sounds. I knew thousands of people had taken this same route, so it sort of bonded me with them and the history of the park. We were camping, I guess. This was roughing it, having a slipshod “cabin” and taking a functional path. I guess it’s what I came here for.