The door slams behind me as I leave the rustic, wooden structure which is now my home. I jump on my bike and as I pedal, I pass masses of tourists pouring out of Winnebagoes, cameras clicking, asking question after question. I cross expanses of blacktopped sterile parking lots. As I come to the end of the residential cabins, the immense forest once again continues as if she had never been touched or tarnished.
I chain my bicycle to a lodgepole pine. A short walk brings me to the river's side. The gentle, murmuring water greets me in welcome, but still I am too close to the confusion and chaos which characterizes the Old Faithful complex during peak season. The river will guide me to an obscure, tranquil spot a mile or so upstream.
As I walk along the bank, the air is permeated by the smell of rotten eggs. Steam rises from nameless hot springs. I cautiously walk over ground stained with patterns of orange and white as the spring runs into the river.
I leave the stench behind as I enter the clearing where Dave was charged by a bison. No sign of buffalo today.
The altitude increases as the bank is transformed from grassy field to rocky cliff. Warm water trickles from a concealed spring. I'm careful not to slip as I step across the spongy green moss which carpets the area.
The further I walk, the freer I feel. This being a dayhike, I'm not encumbered by a bulky backpack and I almost break into a skip as I realize I'm almost there.
You can't see the rock from the slightly trodden elk path where I stand. The ledge which is my destination juts out from the center of the cliff, hanging over the water. Trees line the edge of the ciff, helping to conceal my spot. I cautiously maneouver over and around rock and tree as I drop down to the ledge.
Occasionally, a cloud passes over between periods of baking heat. Below me, the river roars, decidedly going SOMEWHERE and NOWHERE. In front of me, the river stretches out, foaming sporadically, disappearing out of view as she bends around to the right. The river flows toward me from behind. As I lean back against the rough surfaces of the rock, the roar of the river lessens and a quiet ensues.
Things seem simple here. Complexities of the modern world dissolve into peaceful simplicity. The warmth of the sun is a comfort as is the gently caress of the summer breeze. I realize with a deep sigh that I have to be at work in an hour, yet I find solace in the knowledge that the river will still be here tomorrow.