We set of early Monday morning, because it is a quite a long way to Yellowstone from Jackson—about 70 miles to the southern park entrance, and then over 100 miles to do the ‘short’ loop in the park itself, then 70 miles ‘home’ again.Well, we set of early enough, but we decided to stop for breakfast on the way out of Jackson, and that held us up for an hour or so—there seemed to be only one diner open and it was packed and the service was slow.

About half way to Yellowstone is the Grand Tetons National Park, and we thought about taking the road through it to Yellowstone, but then we found out we had to pay to use it and changed our minds. Still, we got some good photos of the mountains!

As we rolled along the highway, we thought we saw some bison in the distance on either side of the road but couldn’t be sure. But then we really saw some. A small herd of them decided the cross the road, and traffic came to a halt. They are huge!

Everywhere you looked there was wildlife. Deer, bison, eagles (we saw an osprey fly over with a fish in its talons), beaver, rat-like things (David’s speciality).

At first we were mesmerised by the vastness of the pine forest, and tried to imagine what it must have been like to travel through countryside like this before it was opened up and the roads built. But after a while, vast pine forests begin to pall, and you wish the vista would open up a bit.

And being on a motorcycle, rather than in a car, you get the full benefit of all the scents—the pine forest, the sulphurous springs, the road kill. We saw several elk—our red deer—that had been killed on the road, and generally it was the smell that warned us first. Phew!

Then we reached the bits that had been burned out by forest fires in the 1980s—mile upon mile of devastation, with young pines growing amid the charred remains of mature trees. That must have been some fire! Of course, it was the mismanagement of the ecosystem that made the fire such a catastrophe, but at least lessons have been learned that should prevent such devastation in future.

Old Faithful—that was our first main stop-off. You can’t go to Yellowstone and not see Old Faithful. And we were lucky. The geyser erupts every hour and a half or so, but we arrived about half an hour before the next ‘show’ so we didn’t have to wait too long. A Ranger gave a running patter about the geology of the area while we waited and told us what to expect, so everyone got ready with their cameras. And right on time, Old Faithful delivered. It was worth the wait and worth the trip.

And then it was over and off we went on the bike again, stopping off here and there as the fancy took us. The first stop we made was at the Excelsior geyser, which is now just a large hole in the ground having blown its top off in an over-enthusiastic eruption about 50 years ago. Apparently, several people a year are found dead in the pool, having dived in without really understanding that the water is bubbling because it is BOILING! Oh well, I suppose it increases the average IQ of the remaining gene pool.

Then it started to rain!

Up till then we had had excellent luck with the weather. Sunny, if cool because of the altitude (we were over 8000 feet again), and dry.

We took shelter while the shower passed over, then it was back to the bike and on round the ‘short loop’.

We carried on, with only the occasional stop to gaze at a particularly picturesque waterfall or landscape, until we reached the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. Not as large as ‘the’ Grand Canyon, but magnificent none the less, and with a spectacular waterfall.

We had a good laugh while we were standing there looking at the waterfall. There was an information panel for tourists that said ospreys often nest on the cliffs on the far side of the canyon, but you need to look carefully because they are so far away. So there are all these tourists with their binoculars, staring at the far side of the canyon several hundred yards away. And David and I look down into the gorge, and lo and behold, about 20 feet below us on our side of the canyon is an osprey’s nest, complete with ospreys and young. David and I try point this out to our fellow tourists, but they refuse to believe it is an osprey’s nest (ignoring the evidence of their own eyes) because the sign says the nests are on the cliff opposite. There’s no helping some people.

With the afternoon drawing in, we set off for ‘home’, hoping that the weather would hold. It didn’t. We got caught in a torrential hail storm and did precisely what everyone tells you not to do—we took shelter under the trees. I know that is supposed to put you at risk from lightening, but just then, given the choice of hail-induced hypothermia and getting fried by lightening, I think we would have opted for the lightening! Luckily, we didn’t get struck by lightening, and the plastic poncho that I had bought earlier in the day (for use in case of need on our fishing trip the following day, I might add) kept the worst of the hail of us. We had some laughs, standing there in the fringe of the forest at the side of the road, under a plastic sheet, waving at passing motorists and yelling ‘hallo’ at the top of our voices. No one stopped!

By the time the hail storm had passed, it was getting well dark and the temperature was falling. I had my thermal leggings on but not the top, so it was a bit chilly. I resorted to stuffing the park newspaper (which they thoughtfully give you at the entrance to the park) down the front of my jacket to fend off the worst of the cold. It worked surprisingly well.

We were pretty much the only vehicle on the road by this time. Everyone else had gone home. It did mean that we got to see a lot of wildlife on the way, even a wolf as it trotted across the road. But it did make for some tense driving. Hitting an elk or bison in a car would wreck the car, hitting one on the bike would wreck us and seriously spoil our day! At least the lights on the Harley were good.

We got back to the motel at about 11 p.m., having left at about 9 in the morning—a long day in the saddle, but we enjoyed every minute.