Everyone loves Yellowstone, and when I say EVERYONE, I mean the world. I could chronicle all the natural wonders of this park, many of which are iconic to America. The quintessential being Old Faithful which immediately conjures up a mental image to any American over the age of 8. More fascinating than the natural wonders were the numbers of people from all over the world which we encountered this week.
My favorites: The Scottish cowboys. I had used up my steps for the day, so Larry, Susi and Drake decided to do one more short hike. I brought out my embroidery (always a conversation starter), sat down on a bench created from a log, and watched the world march by. Back to my cowboys. I looked up and four men, of a certain age, (that's about my age) were walking toward me wearing authentic looking 19th century cowboy garb. Initially, I thought they were some 'entertainment' provided by the park - perhaps some living history performance. I let them pass by.
However, my curiosity got the better of me, and I stopped them on the way back from the canyon overlook attraction, and asked why they were dressed up. It turns out this was a 3 week vacation they had planned for a year. They assembled their own costumes replicating 19th century apparel: hats, shirts, pants, and accessories. They flew here from Scotland and worked a 19th century round up, gathering cattle on horseback, castrating calves, using holes they dug for their latrines, eating off the back of the chuck wagon, and sleeping in bedrolls on the ground. I asked them if they prepared physically for the experience, and they laughed saying they discussed getting physically ready at the pub, but somehow they didn't get around to it. As one guy put it, the first few days getting off the horse after an entire day in the saddle was excruciatingly painful. They radiated excitement and delight with their cowboy experience. The words tumbled out they were so deliriously happy to share with me how they felt. Each one had totally embraced the experience, even though, they confided, their wives (back in Scotland) were not thrilled with this undertaking. How were they spending the last few days of their trip? Visiting the natural wonders of Yellowstone.
A few minutes later, a pair of Italian women came by, and talked to me in Italian about embroidery. The ladies knew one English word: "Beautiful." They pointed out each of the stitches I was using and told me the name of the stitch in Italian while I repeated them in English. We had a very pleasant 5 minute conversation, and the finale? Their admiration of the awesome sights of Yellowstone which they expressed with elaborate hand gestures.
When the Italian ladies departed, a young Japanese girl (about age 10) and her mother sat down. The little girl spoke fairly good English and she was the translator between myself and her mother - who wanted to know where in America I was from. She knew "Texas". Again, we had a translated conversation about the sights.
Next, two sisters, one of whom was already a doctor in Bangladesh, and the other who was working on her PhD in computer science at Syracuse University sat down. They had walked a trail, and sent their husbands down the road to get the car; they didn't have any more energy. They both expressed the awe they felt at the scenery not only at Yellowstone, but also just crossing the country by car. The immenseness of the continent impressed both of them. They both absolutely loved the United States.
There were busloads of Chinese tourists. Most of them didn't speak any English, or a very few words, but they were unfailingly polite. The same could be said for the Japanese tourist busloads. My observation was that the Japanese groups were more exuberant than the Chinese. The Chinese groups seemed a little tense and overwhelmed, perhaps a result of EVERYTHING being so foreign. I'm sure I would be a bit tense in China.
While we were waiting for Old Faithful to erupt, I just sat on the bench and listened: Within earshot there were at least five languages being spoken besides English. When OF finally blew, no words were needed - everyone just went, "AHHHH".
One of the ways I enjoyed interacting with people at Yellowstone was offering to take pictures of couples with some attraction in the background. Invariably, in the exchange of cameras we would fall into chitchat. The first topic if they were American, was, "Where are you from?" To a person, when we said, "Texas", they invariably told us their brother, cousin, nephew, next door neighbor's daughter, or someone they knew lived in ___________, Texas. Did we know where that was? It happened every time.
We discovered that every wait person in the restaurants was from a foreign country: We were waited on by Bulgarians, Poles, Russians, Ukrainians, and a couple of other countries I can't remember. Apparently, lots of college students come over to Yellowstone, get jobs for the summer, practice their English, and then go back to college in their native country when the summer season is over. It seems like a hard way to improve your command of English.
If you want to see the wonders of Yellowstone and can't make the trip, I did you the favor of taking 500 pictures. For those of you who just love the pictures, Yellowstone will not disappoint.
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2012YellowstoneNationalPark?authkey=Gv1sRgCNThqY_P_aj3owE#
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
Smoke Gets into My Eyes
The Grand Tetons should have been grand, and they weren't. First, smoke literally did get into my eyes from the Idaho wildfires. A week of WSW winds obscured what must surely be one of the most panoramic vistas in America. There were three major fires in central Idaho which were below 10% contained, and the firefighters did not expect containment until October. Logan and every other town north up through the Tetons are putting up with a significant haze of smoke. The pictures I took were from the 'good day' of the four days we spent in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
Talk about a town that leaves a bad taste. The first thing we noticed was 'rush hour' - long streams of cars coming into town in the morning and the same long streams exiting town in the afternoon. They were all going to small towns up to 30 miles away from Jackson on twisting mountain roads making these peoples' commute as bad as any big metropolitan route. I concluded that people who actually work for a living can't afford housing in the town they work in. I had heard this was the case in Vail, Colorado, and my observation is that Jackson, Wyoming is pulling the same stunt.
Oh, I'm told, "Jackson is so picturesque, and a source of jobs in an area where jobs are few and far between." I will give the picturesque point - the elk antler archways over the corners of the park comprising the town square were charming. However, a service job selling overpriced merchandise, waiting on tables, pumping gas, and working a convenience store are not careers and barely pay a living wage. And if that's not bad enough; lots of those jobs are summer only. Since we have been touring the West, we have run into people who have two jobs hundreds of miles apart: Some tourist town in the summer, and another high season tourist town in the winter. As we have talked to people at restaurants, in shops, at parks, while pumping gas, we have heard the same refrain: Real people can no longer afford to live in Wyoming and parts of Montana; the rich people own all the land, most of which they neglect or underuse. We've run into many bitter Wyoming transplants living elsewhere due to economic necessity.
I enjoyed the privileged class' museum calling itself "The National Museum of Wildlife Art". I never found anywhere that substantiated the 'national' claim. I'm pretty sure it is self designated. To be fair, the building was magnificent, and the art collected ranged from mostly mediocre paintings surrounded by first rate western sculpture portraying various animals of the far West. The sculptures range from table sized to full sized and oversized.
If I sound lukewarm about this destination, I suppose it's because we had just toured an area that was supporting their own real history. The people in the town of Cloverfield in Idaho all got together, raised the money themselves, and built the Oregon/California Trail Museum since their town was a popular stop along the trail, and is how it came into being. The entire town raised the money and built the museum, so they could preserve the actual 19th century camping site of the wagon trains. Then, they devised a unique living history experience for the visitors with volunteers from the town. Jackson's National Wildlife Art Museum came across as slick and disingenuous in comparison.
I did find one thing to recommend Jackson: Snake River beer. This is a micro brew making some of the best beer I've tasted in quite a long time. The Snake River Lager was superb as was the Pale Ale. I've been disappointed not to find it around Yellowstone. Instead I'm stuck with Moose Drool, which if you can get past the disgusting name, isn't too bad.
I was glad to leave Jackson, although we lucked out on the accommodations there - comfortable with great beds and every detail attended to prior to our arrival. The Grand Teton Park was nice, and as always - photos
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2012GrandTetonsNationalPark?authkey=Gv1sRgCIWl2L_Pm8rQcw#
Talk about a town that leaves a bad taste. The first thing we noticed was 'rush hour' - long streams of cars coming into town in the morning and the same long streams exiting town in the afternoon. They were all going to small towns up to 30 miles away from Jackson on twisting mountain roads making these peoples' commute as bad as any big metropolitan route. I concluded that people who actually work for a living can't afford housing in the town they work in. I had heard this was the case in Vail, Colorado, and my observation is that Jackson, Wyoming is pulling the same stunt.
Oh, I'm told, "Jackson is so picturesque, and a source of jobs in an area where jobs are few and far between." I will give the picturesque point - the elk antler archways over the corners of the park comprising the town square were charming. However, a service job selling overpriced merchandise, waiting on tables, pumping gas, and working a convenience store are not careers and barely pay a living wage. And if that's not bad enough; lots of those jobs are summer only. Since we have been touring the West, we have run into people who have two jobs hundreds of miles apart: Some tourist town in the summer, and another high season tourist town in the winter. As we have talked to people at restaurants, in shops, at parks, while pumping gas, we have heard the same refrain: Real people can no longer afford to live in Wyoming and parts of Montana; the rich people own all the land, most of which they neglect or underuse. We've run into many bitter Wyoming transplants living elsewhere due to economic necessity.
I enjoyed the privileged class' museum calling itself "The National Museum of Wildlife Art". I never found anywhere that substantiated the 'national' claim. I'm pretty sure it is self designated. To be fair, the building was magnificent, and the art collected ranged from mostly mediocre paintings surrounded by first rate western sculpture portraying various animals of the far West. The sculptures range from table sized to full sized and oversized.
If I sound lukewarm about this destination, I suppose it's because we had just toured an area that was supporting their own real history. The people in the town of Cloverfield in Idaho all got together, raised the money themselves, and built the Oregon/California Trail Museum since their town was a popular stop along the trail, and is how it came into being. The entire town raised the money and built the museum, so they could preserve the actual 19th century camping site of the wagon trains. Then, they devised a unique living history experience for the visitors with volunteers from the town. Jackson's National Wildlife Art Museum came across as slick and disingenuous in comparison.
I did find one thing to recommend Jackson: Snake River beer. This is a micro brew making some of the best beer I've tasted in quite a long time. The Snake River Lager was superb as was the Pale Ale. I've been disappointed not to find it around Yellowstone. Instead I'm stuck with Moose Drool, which if you can get past the disgusting name, isn't too bad.
I was glad to leave Jackson, although we lucked out on the accommodations there - comfortable with great beds and every detail attended to prior to our arrival. The Grand Teton Park was nice, and as always - photos
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2012GrandTetonsNationalPark?authkey=Gv1sRgCIWl2L_Pm8rQcw#
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