Simply My Life...me discovering me: Road Trip #2 of 2025 : What Yellowstone Gave Me

September 28 – October 9, 2025 (12 days) | Mileage: Unknown

I hadn’t planned on a fall road trip, but when you’re retired and have zero responsibilities, there’s no reason to stay home. So, I didn’t.

What Yellowstone Gave Me

Safety first! Bear vault.

The night before departure did not go as planned.

I read, I relaxed, I even meditated, but sleep would not come. I twisted myself into a knot in my sheets and dreamt of mountain lions roaming a ballpark across from my parent’s house, which doesn’t exist in real life – the ballpark, not my parents' house.

The lions exist too, somewhere in the wild lands nearby. Others have seen them, but I haven't. I have no idea what any of that means symbolically, but I hoped it wasn’t some ominous prediction of how this trip would unfold.

Despite an unhappy sleep score of 49 (according to my Garmin watch), I was up and at ‘em, running purely on adventurous adrenaline. By the shockingly early hour of 7:30 am (for me, at least), I was already chasing the long white line of the freeway heading north.

As with all my road trips, my truck, Lily, was absolutely packed to the brim. I never know where I’ll end up or how remote things might be, so I pack like a doomsday prepper. Since I was heading into bear country, all food was responsibly crammed into a bear vault. Because bears. Sidenote: Has anyone else watched the 1976 horror film Grizzly? I did when I was a child, a young child. You’d still be traumatized, too.

I normally avoid starting trips on weekends – higher hotel prices, more traffic, more people – but my excitement bested me, and I left a day early.

Welcome to Idaho

The drive to West Yellowstone is usually an easy 4 ½ hours, but by leaving on a Sunday, as opposed to Monday, I had to come up with an alternate set of plans. Instead of driving directly to Yellowstone National Park and checking into my hotel that afternoon, like I would have had I left as scheduled, I decided to drive to Craters of the Moon National Monument with an overnight stay in Rexburg, Idaho.

But even that changed.

I bypassed Craters, just kept driving a little farther north on I-15, to Camas National Wildlife Refuge. Since I arrived midday – a less than optimal time for birdwatching – the stop turned into more of a scouting mission than a serious hunt for birds. I did spot a few birds, but the water areas were empty. It'd been a dry year. Still, the refuge had tons of potential, so I’ve already mentally scheduled a return trip during the wetter months of Spring.

My trips are usually about something – healing, building confidence, processing life – but never intentionally. Long stretches of highway and the steady hum of tires on asphalt have a way of lulling my brain, and whatever thoughts that want to be thought waltz right in uninvited. On my last road trip, things got a bit heavy and introspective, so this time, I told myself that this trip would not be about anything.

But… that lasted less than five minutes. Whether I liked it or not, this road trip had already decided what it was going to be about, and that was spontaneity and changing my plans every few minutes.

While lying on a lumpy mattress in a Super 8 motel in Rexburg, Idaho – I really need to start booking better hotels – I made plans. I even wrote them down in my travel notebook to solidify them. I checked out the next morning with those plans still firmly ensconced in my brain... and then immediately abandoned them. I hadn’t even left the parking lot yet!

Instead of heading north on Highway 20 towards West Yellowstone, I turned east and drove straight to Grand Teton National Park. That was a good decision as it turned out.

The fall colors at Grand Teton NP were poppin'!

I arrived later than expected thanks to traffic, but that minor annoyance vanished quickly when I spotted two moose – a bull and a cow within minutes of entering the park. I didn’t see much wildlife after that, but I was able to check off a new bird, a Canada Jay, in my bird book, which always makes me happy.

Canada Jay

***

When I entered Yellowstone National Park through the southern entrance, I was greeted by two lady elk, but I was exhausted and didn’t stop. I figured I’d see plenty of elk over the next couple of days – and I was right – so I didn’t regret passing them by.

The next morning, I awoke later than I wanted, but I was staying at the Gray Wolf Inn & Suites in West Yellowstone, which meant the park entrance was only minutes away. I passed through the gates at 7 am on the dot!

By 7:15 am, I saw the first elk of the day. There wasn’t much room to pull over, and the herd was way out in the meadow, so I kept driving. A much closer herd appeared near Beryl Spring. The elk standing amidst the drifting steam from the hot springs was one of those magical Yellowstone moments. I slowed down but didn't stop. I should have, but I wanted to get to where I was going.

Beryl Spring without the elk

Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces is one of my favorite spots in the park for birdwatching, and it’s usually my first stop. A narrow one-way road loops around the terraces, but once the midday tourists arrive, it can get quite congested. That makes it tough for someone like me who wants to stop every ten feet to take a photo and spend an hour watching the light playing across the leaves of a tree.

It’s about 1 ½ hours from West Yellowstone, which is why I tend to skip over everything on my way there. That's why I regrettably skipped Beryl Spring.

I despise small talk, but those that know me, know that already. If I can avoid people and idle chit-chat entirely, I will, but on this trip, I took my extroverted friend Pat’s advice and “put myself out there.”

“Just try it,” she said.

So, I did, and suddenly this trip became about that too – an introvert attempting to be an extrovert.

A lady elk, Yellowstone

My first interaction happened in a small parking area at Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces. A solo traveler in a rented Sprinter van asked me about the birds in the area. As an avid bird watcher, I was more than happy to share what knowledge I had. Luckily, the birds she asked about were American Robins – a very common and easily identifiable North American species, but she was from Australia and unfamiliar with the bird.

We stood on the boardwalk, taking photos, pointing out birds, and chatting. It was a genuinely pleasant experience. Maybe risking a step outside my comfort zone to talk to a stranger wasn’t that bad after all.

September is usually my Yellowstone month. It’s prime time for the elk rut, and photographing these bugling, raging studs has become something I look forward to doing about every other year. However, the last time I caught the rut was in 2022, so I was more than ready to photograph it again. A prior appointment, unfortunately, delayed my departure, and those two lost weeks made a difference.

By the time I arrived, the rut had wound down. I heard a little bugling around Mammoth, but no hormonal beasts running amok through the meadows or across the roads. It was disappointing, but Yellowstone has a way of changing my expectations, offering me alternatives when I least expect them.

Bear!

Black Bear at Yellowstone

My first black bear sighting happened a short time later, after leaving Mammoth Hot Springs.

I don’t drive fast in nature areas. Wildlife is unpredictable, as are many of the clueless tourists traversing the same roads, so I stick to the speed limit. When no one’s behind me, I go even slower.

That habit paid off big time, because as I rounded a corner, there she was – a black bear meandering down the middle of the road like she owned it. Had I been driving faster, the story for both of us would have been very different and very tragic.

I slowed immediately, flipped on my hazard lights - the common sign in National Parks to precede with caution. For a few seconds, I was the only car. Just the bear and me, but as other vehicles arrived, a small traffic jam formed. Tiring of the attention, the bear gave us one last look of annoyance, clambered down the side of the mountain, and disappeared from sight.

By the end of the day, I’d spent nearly nine hours in the park, driving less than 155 miles, and seeing just a fraction of Yellowstone's 3,468.4 square miles.

Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces, Yellowstone

But tomorrow is another day.

***

I woke up earlier than yesterday, but took the time to heat up some Hot Pockets and make a bagel with cream cheese to-go, and entered the park roughly about the same time as the day before. The morning arrived cold and dark with a fine mist drifting across the landscape, but I felt none of the gloom that I normally would if I were anyplace else. This was Yellowstone National Park after all, and the wet and changing weather only exemplified her beauty.

Wildlife activity was much more abundant than yesterday. Several herds of elk grazed along the Madison River, along with a herd of bison. This area almost always guarantees elk sightings and comes within minutes of passing through the west entrance.

Then, an hour later…another WOW moment!

Grizzly along Dunraven Pass, Yellowstone

Flashing hazard lights gave it away, a sign that something big lay ahead, and as luck would have it, near that big thing was parking. It was around 8:15 am, and the park was relatively quiet. Most of the people out at that hour are serious photographers and wildlife enthusiasts, but a crowd had already gathered. I whipped my truck into one of the empty spots at the viewpoint and hurried back down the hill to join the others.

What did we see?

A grizzly! A female, petite (as petite as an adult bear can be), and gorgeous.

She paid us no mind, too busy digging for grubs, her long claws raking up the dirt and flipping over rocks. A woman with a Canon R5 and a massive telephoto lens stepped up beside me, and channeling my inner extrovert once again, I struck up a conversation. Pat would be so proud!

It started raining harder, but neither the grizzly nor I cared. The temperature hovered around 40 degrees, and my hands were frozen, but I couldn’t leave her, not yet. For half an hour, I watched her with water streaking my glasses and beading rain droplets running off the shoulders of my jacket. This may sound strange to some, but before walking away, I thanked her. Thanked her for allowing me to witness a small, fleeting piece of her life, which immediately became a huge and continuous part of mine.

***

Don’t pet the fluffy cows! But I want to!

In National Parks, the required distance between people and bison is at least 25 yards. It’s for everyone’s safety – humans and bison. We’ve all seen the online videos of bison launching Tourons (tourists + morons), who strayed too close, into the atmosphere. The warning videos are even played in the visitor centers.

But what do you do when the bison come to you?

Short answer: you pucker.

I love bison.

I never expect to get caught in a bison jam, but I’m always delighted when I do.

Yellowstone’s bison population fluctuates between 3,000 to 5,000 animals, making it one of the largest and most-important bison populations on public lands. They live in matriarchal family groups that can range from a handful of individuals to thousands.

I was crossing the bridge near Tower-Roosevelt on my way to Lamar Valley when I saw them clustered at the far end of the bridge, blocking the way. There was construction nearby, and a metal plate had been laid across the bridge’s entrance. The bison weren’t thrilled about it and huddled together, figuring out what to do.

There is no other way for them to cross the Yellowstone River here, the cliff face is too steep, so they share the bridge with cars. The lead bison stepped onto the plate with no problems, but the rest were hesitant.

A bison taking the easy route, Yellowstone

Unfortunately, an impatient idiot in a Subaru (with Montana plates) came up behind them and threaded his way through. Too close for comfort, and the herd stampeded. Perhaps stampeded isn’t the right word, but they started running. Really, more of a gentle jog, but when bison move, the land moves, and they were coming directly at me.

The entire bridge vibrated.

Adult male bison (bulls) can weigh up to 2,000 pounds and stand about 6 feet tall at the shoulder, while females (cows) typically weigh around 1,000 pounds. Cows are about 4-5 feet tall. Despite their massive size, bison can run at speeds of up to 35-45 miles per hour and are capable of impressive athletic feats, such as jumping high fences and swimming. And, in this case, leaping over metal plates in the road.

My window was down, and I was filming with my cell phone. Their hooves clicked against the asphalt. They grunted as they passed, one after another, enormous beasts right outside my window. Almost every single one made eye contact with me. They were so close I could’ve reached out and touched them. I wanted to, but I was also terrified.

Getting closer....

In that moment, I realized that a thin car door offered no protection at all if one of them decided to charge. When one passed so close it barely missed my side mirror, I yanked my arm back inside and rolled up the window, but this was something to be seen. Another unforgettable Yellowstone moment, so I left enough space to stick my phone out and continue recording, because it was awesome!

The grizzly and bison herd should have been enough excitement for one day, but it wasn’t.

Yellowstone wasn’t done giving just yet.

Another close encounter with a herd of bison….

Less than fifteen minutes later in Lamar Valley, I stopped to photograph a distant bison herd. When I turned back toward my truck, I noticed two bison approaching from the opposite side of the road. I got back in my truck, rested my camera on the door sill, and waited.

More bison came around the small hill, and they were once again coming straight at me.

Soon, the entire area across the road from me was packed with bison. They stepped into the street, creating another traffic jam, and stood nonchalantly in the opposite lane – not more than ten feet from where I sat in my truck.

Stare down! He looks rather cute and fluffy in
the photo, but was much scarier in person.

Of course, I took photos, that’s why I was there, but these are wild and powerful animals. The same thoughts played out as when I was on the bridge. I could die. Death by Bison.

Dramatic? Maybe so, but also realistic.

Eventually, I put the camera away and just sat there, quiet and still. Letting the moment happen. I also hoped my stillness wouldn’t draw their attention, but after the third time a young bull stopped and stared me down, I decided our moment of bonding was over and promptly drove away.

But – I’ll never forget him.

At Gibbons Meadow picnic area, I stopped for a snack. I sat by the river, pulled out my sketchbook, and took a moment to breathe; to replay the short time I’d already spent in the park. The ravens came, and I shared my bag of Cheetos with them.

Raven (with a small dot of Cheeto on his beak,
Yellowstone

And yes. I talked to them, too.

Just like I talked to the grizzly.

The bison.

And every wild thing that’s crossed my path.

Even the chipmunks at Mammoth Hot Springs.

Out here, wrapped in so much beauty, talking to the animals feels natural, feels like the polite thing to do. I am in their house after all. I may sometimes struggle with small talk with humans, but I’ll talk to a wild creature every single time.

Yellowstone didn’t give me the rut this time. It gave me something else entirely. Something quieter, deeper, and unexpected. A feeling that fills my being so completely and intensely that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to explain it. You’ll have to go yourself. Experience the park firsthand, feel what I feel in your own way. And then you’ll understand.

My time here has come to an end, but my adventure hasn’t.

Stay tuned.

To see more of my photos, visit me on Instagram or visit my Facebook page. And, as always, thank you for sharing in my journey.