Fierce Beauty by Kim Meeder Page B

confirmed that this trip would be no exception. After a full day of viewing all the massive geysers, steaming ponds, burbling mud pots, and exquisitely colored pools that we could mash in between sunup and sundown, we bundled up and fell into our sleeping bags. Like expectant treasure hunters, we vowed to rise early with the wildlife the following day in hopes of seeing something incredible.
    The next morning we woke up to the high-country phenomenon known as “tent snow.” It was so cold during the night that our respiration froze into thin white sheets of ice that clung perilously to the
inside
of our tents. After pausing only long enough to brew some joe, we filled our travel mugs to the brim and set off. My truck was loaded with five girls; four more rode in another car behind us. I thrust my small camera out the window, wordlessly asking everyone in the car behind me if they had theirs handy. Four little thumbs shot up enthusiastically.
    With hands full of coffee and cameras, we were good to go. To fan the fires of anticipation, I tossed a question to the girls in my truck: “If you could see
any
animal that lives in this park, which would you choose?”
    Kelsie, who sat next to me in the center of the front seat, immediately answered with a monstrous grin, “If I saw a bear, I’d be so excited that I just might pee in my pants!” Laughter erupted when I told her to move to the backseat so I wouldn’t have to share in that experience.
    While winding our way up 8,859-foot Dunraven Pass, we rounded a turn on a particularly steep slope and were surprised by a traffic jam. Of course, that’s Yellowstone language for “Stop here! There’s something fun to see!” As we carefully threaded our way through the bottleneck of parked cars and people milling about to find the best view, I asked some folks what was causing all the commotion. One pointed nearly straight up toward the ridge above us and said, “There’s a
grizzly bear
!” Upon hearing those words, Kelsie nearly leaped out the window like a dog after a Frisbee. Lucky for me, she did
not
make good on her earlier promise, and we both exited the truck with dry jeans.
    Sure enough, approximately one hundred yards up the mountainside was a subadult grizzly. The bruin appeared to be taking great joy in climbing up small pine trees, breaking the entire top off, and then raiding the pine cones for nuts. The delight I took in watching the bear was completely eclipsed by the deep satisfaction of watching
Kelsie
watch the bear. My friend’s feet scarcely touched the ground. After the bear ambled out of sight and everyone loaded back into the truck, voices excitedly overlapped as five girls talked at once about the thrill of seeing a Yellowstone grizzly.
    A quarter mile up the road we came upon another traffic jam. This time it was caused by a mother black bear with two small cubs. Because she had taken her youngsters below the road into thick underbrush, the mother bear and her family were more difficult to watch. Yet it was still a thrill to see flashes of jet black among the deep green forest. Several times the cubs rolled into view as they wrestled and played around their mother. They seemed oblivious to the ecstatic commotion that their presence aroused in all who witnessed them. Again we piled back into the truck. Kelsie looked at me with a grin that barely fit on her face. “I could go home right now!” she said. “Already this has been so amazing!”
    As our day rolled on, it seemed around every turn the Lord blessed us with something incredible to behold. We viewed waterfalls so delicate they fell like angel’s breath, while others roared with enough power to shake the earth. Our little caravan came across deer, antelope, and elk napping in the sun. Herds of bison moved like slow, black rivers through the valleys and occasionally washed over the roadways in front of us, creating delightful traffic jams of their own.
    About midday the other carload of girls