Day 10

Cody, WY to Yellowstone National Park (then towed to Jackson Hole, WY)

I slowly opened my eyes. No shards of glass, no blood. I looked down. I was still strapped into my seat. I looked over. Daniel was still strapped in as well. Our eyes locked. For moments, neither of us spoke, we just stared into each other’s eyes, trying to understand what had just happened.

“Are you okay?” he finally broke the silence.

I think so. You?

“Yes.”

We were so excited when we woke up this morning. The storm which was predicted to dump enough snow to close the park had only left a slight dusting, none of which stuck to the roads. As we entered Yellowstone, the Ranger suggested we head to Canyon, to see the gorge and the falls, then backtrack to Old Faithful, to see the most famous geyser in the world. There were few other cars in the park. We drove along, slowly, absorbing the magnificent scenery, even more so because of the crisp coldness of the air, the bleakness of the sky. Along Yellowstone Lake we witnessed a relatively small grizzly bear, foraging for food. We stopped the car, snapping pictures from a distance, whispering so as not to cause alarm. He lazily glanced up, looked us over, then continued pawing at the ground.

Minutes later, as I came out of the roadside restroom, I noticed Daniel waving animatedly in the car. There, just feet away from the car, was an almost pure white coyote. He, too, merely looked at us, then continued among his way. As we traveled, we marveled at the vastness of the lake, the juxtaposition of the hot springs spouting forth bursts of cloudy steam next to icy shores. We witnessed huge ravens fly, glide, soar, then perch just inches next to us. As we returned from a trail, we were amazed to see a herd of buffalo, there in the parking lot, just standing. Not moving, not making noises, just standing. We got into the car and heard a loud noise behind us. The buffalo, about 30 of them, were stampeding towards the car. One brushed the trunk, the others came within feet. In utter amazement we listened to their hoofs clop, clop, clop up the nearby embankment. We continued to the Canyon.

As we walked down the bitterly cold trail, we oohed and ahhed at the streaked patterns in the infinite descent down the gorge. More shades of yellow, and orange, and brown, than I ever realized existed. The colors completely visible because of the trees which have now shed their leaves. We made our way to Artist’s Point, where we were shocked at the magnificence of the Upper Falls, incomprehensible amounts of water, crashing down to the river, snaking through the gorge. As we stood watching, the flurries began. Ever so lightly, big, delicate snowflakes clung to our eyelashes and blurred our vision. As we shivered, I whispered to Daniel, We are so lucky. We are seeing Yellowstone Park dusted by snow. Think about how few people ever witness this.

We got into the car, and began the 40 odd mile drive to Old Faithful. A few minutes into the drive, the snow began falling more heavily. Struck by the beauty, I snapped pictures out of my passenger’s window of the pine trees, the boughs gathering a fine coating of white fluff. We continued to marvel at the beauty, Daniel driving more slowly as the snow began to accumulate on the road.

We drove back by Yellowstone Lake. We argued about whether we would actually die if the car slid off the road into the lake. I said yes, Daniel asserted no. I recalled one of the roadside information signs that talked about the irony of the lake – that the upper waters were cold enough to cause hypothermia, whereas the lower waters reached boiling temperatures. Daniel claimed we would be able to reach the shore before hypothermia set in. We then pondered what would happen if a blizzard suddenly hit the park. Would the rangers try to evacuate everyone? Or merely try to get them to shelter within the park? Or was everyone left to their own devices, hopefully with water and food in their respective cars?

As we got closer to Old Faithful, the roads became more treacherous. The temperature had obviously dropped. Snow was a couple of inches deep on the road, in places slippery. Daniel slowed down even more.

I saw the headlights in the distance. It appeared to be a truck, or a SUV. It was coming around a curve. As it got closer, I felt the back of the car fishtail. From there, everything happened at half, or quarter speed. I watched Daniel carefully maneuver the steering wheel, not jerking, not panicking. I felt the car continue to slide. First to the right. Then to the left. Back to the right. Just as the oncoming headlights passed us, I felt the car begin to spin. I watched the trees spin past me. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let my body go limp.

We were lucky. We didn’t hit the other car, only the curb. We didn’t slide into the lake, testing our theories about how long we would survive in the freezing weather. Neither of us was hurt. The car, however, was hurt. The next 7 hours were spent waiting for the Yellowstone tow truck (no other companies allowed inside the park), being towed to the south gate (by that time all other roads in the park were closed), waiting for the tow truck from Jackson (Yellowstone trucks aren’t allowed to tow outside the park), then making the slow trek back to Jackson, about 50 miles. We’re in Jackson now. Probably will be for a while. The auto shop isn’t sure where they can find the parts, or how long it will take to get them here. This wasn’t on our itinerary, but we’ll make the best of it.