The drive back into Yellowstone was not as terrifying as I remember being on the way out. Maybe I've just gotten acclimated to the crippling fear.
Drove down to Old Faithful. Here's a shot of it erupting.
I then went on a three mile hike of the surrounding basins, because I wanted to check out the chromatic geysers. Here they are. This is about 1/3 of them.
These are all essentially boiling pools of water which spring from the earth. Their color is derived from the thermophile algae which live in them. You'll notice a boardwalk on the corner of one of the pictures; this exists because you have to walk on it, lest you break through the brittle earth and be boiled alive by one of these pools. Seriously. They have illustrations of it happening to kids and onlookers screaming in anguish. Bet your ass I stayed on the boardwalk.
I drove out the western exit of Yellowstone, and stopped for lunch. I discovered that the Eastern Europeans have cornered the market on retail in West Yellowstone. It's either the mafia or a former Soviet spy relocation program. I opt for the former.
I then drove through what I can only say is the most beautiful stretch of road I've ever seen. Through Montana, the highway hugged a lake that was surrounded by mountains. Now, some of you may have heard there are no speed limits in Montana. This is partially true. Some roads have no speed limits (although there are no signs to note this, the only clue being the complete absence of speed limit signs) but others (such as the interstate) do. Still, it was a gorgeous drive. From Butte, I drove west across Montana, through two different mountain ranges (I think) through Idaho and then into Spokane, Washington.
Finished In Cold Blood, which was awesome. Obama's book is next. I will get to Squamish, B.C. tomorrow, and I am unsure of the internet situation. The next post might therefore have to wait until I get into Reno, after I drive down the 101.
Here's the route so far:
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