Not A Real Tourist

People by the hundreds make the trek to Yellowstone Park and Jackson Hole every summer. You see the cars packed inside and outside with all the gear they assume they need to visit the wild west. I have to remind myself that for many it is a long anticipated trip which has involved a lot of planning and expense. If you live in south eastern Idaho it is easy to forget that what we take for granted is an exciting adventure for others.


We usually visit Yellowstone in the spring or fall to avoid the crowds and over stimulated tourists. Last week we decided to venture through the gates with all the other tourists. This time we were going to see the park through different eyes--tourist eyes. Drive slow, take the turn outs, walk the geyser trails and stop with the rest of the pack to watch the animals. We have seen the animals so many times that some of the buffalo recognize the car and wave a hoof as we pass by.


Things were progressing well and we were adapting to the new approach. Taking a turn out to drive along the river we came to an unexpected stop when large rocks rolled onto the road. Our first thought--it must be an animal. Looking to the left we saw more rocks come rolling down the incline and sure enough the rocks had been disturbed by animals--the two legged kind--a male and female. The male wearing blue shorts, a tee shirt and ball hat was coming down the hill from the main road to snap a picture of an elk crossing the river. "Look ," yells his female companion, " A moose!" With the manual dexterity of a spider monkey, she whips out her cell phone and reports back to the rest of the group who had remained on the road.

While Nolan removes the boulders from the road so traffic can continue on I suddenly remember that I am a tourist. I jump out of the car and run to get a picture before the elk it is out of range. Yes-- my first animal picture in Yellowstone Park. How great is that!

We went down the road and turned around and came back to pick up the main road again. Would you believe it there were more animals in the river. The two legged male and female were standing in the river throwing rocks.The excitement over and it was time for lunch. We found a quiet spot along the Fire Hole River where there were no other tourists. There was the real Yellowstone--- the clear water of the Fire Hole, fish jumping out of the water to feed, beautiful mountains and the wide expanse of sky. 

I should remember to count myself among the lucky few.  I only spend an hour and half in the car to find this while others travel days.

 Nolan took time to do some small water color sketches for furture reference.

The Combines Come

I saw the combines come the massive green cutting machines followed by the empty grain truck

They turn from the road into the yellow barley field
giant blades to make short work of the upright heads

Going from field to field the combines cut and the trucks haul-- that which took nature a season to build man can reap in a matter of days.

They leave behind a sea of golden stubble the evidence of a summer's growth

                                       Joanne Olson

Baby Boomer

I am trying to come to terms with being a Baby Boomer and just what it means.  I never thought of myself as any particular segment of the over all population.  Now however, I have seen enough documentaries and news blurbs focused on baby bommers that I finally admit to being one.  Membership in this club is automatic.  You had to be a post WWII baby; born in the mid 40's to early 50's.  Since I hit this planet in 1948, it seems I qualify to be a clubber.

Actually, I would not have joined this elite club if I had been given a choice.  So wrong time-- wrong place and like it or not I have a membership card.  I have had to do a great deal of research to understand how my association with this group will effect my life.  Baby boomers are warriors.  They have a thirst for adventure, an aversion to hanging out with couch potaoes, love RV's, motor homes and are developing new love affaires with Harleys.  Bottom line--It is a club that requires money, lots of time and certainly energy.

I have chosen to forgo the Harley in favor of a blue and silver cruser with an aluminum frame. I love this bike, and best of all it is anatomically correct.  My body loves this bike.  I am not enough of a joiner to bend myself in half, sit on a tiny child's seat and spring for the uniform of spandex.

I apologize to all you true and dedicated baby boomers for dishonoring you.  I am still figuring out my duties and responsibilities.  My baby boomer husband and I have yet to acquire the mortor home.  We do however, have a two person inflatable kayak.  As time goes on, I am sure things will gradually fall into place.  We will never fit the mold entirely and most likely will ride the fringes.  It is rather liberating to still beat a solo drum and march at your own pace.          

Why Blog

I have been thinking about writing a blog for several months.  I enjoy writing and have sent pieces to various contests and magazines.  There is a certain satisfaction that I derive from the writing process.  To me it is a creativy process.  It is an avenue of self expression just as music, drawing, dance and painting is.  All art forms give the participant a view into another aspect of who they are.  The imagination and brain are capable of fantastic creations when allowed to run.  Everyone has creative abilities, but we are too often hesitant to express them.  We are so bound by what others may think about us that we deny ourselves creative freedom.  Too much time and energy is wasted on worrying about being criticized or just the plain fear of out right failure.

I decided to take my own advice and put myself on the line.  If what I share profits no one but myself, I have not wasted words. I am certain that you can't live to the age of 6l without gaining some insight into life.  It is possible that I really do have some worthwhile things to share.  After all, you can't raise 4 children, 4 dogs, serveral gerbils and hamsters, tropical fish, parakeets, hermit crabs and a newt without gaining some valuable knowledge sbout survival.  Add that to being married to the same man for 40 years and I just bet I can keep writing for a long time.

So I am stepping out of my box and throwing it all out there.  Let's just see where it all lands.