Get there early, says the desk clerk at the Brandin’ Iron Inn, even if you have a pass. They start lining up at four o’clock.
I arise at 3 am. Plot my strategy on a particle-board table. A map and exceptionally bitter coffee. The wait at the entrance as long as the drive from Montana.
A slow crawl through the stark landscape. Sulphuric swirls in the earth’s fabric. Steam chugs like a locomotive from the geysered-ground. Shades of sapphire embedded in gravel. Socially-distanced bison. The day growing heavy.
Time shifts in the space between. Covid was hard on all relationships.
This microburst is the third in the road trip national park series. Here’s part one and part two.
Your closings always kill. I love this whole piece, but, "Time shifts in the space between. Covid was hard on all relationships." is so so good.
Just a delightful post!! Thank you!! It reminds me of one of our visits to that park too...thanks for the memories!