News Trend Yellowstone National Park: The Prequel|Actual

During our summer road trip, we saw more interesting sights that I could squeeze into my real-time posts. Now that I'm back home and have fished all 548 photos off my devices, I have a few more road trip stories to share.

To catch up on the rest of the trip, starthere.

Yellowstone National Park.

The jewel in the crown.

The apple of my eye.

The perfect red cherry on the banana split that is our country's collection of beautiful and breathtaking landscapes.

Though my heart beats fast whenever I visit a national park, Yellowstone must surely be the greatest and grandest of them all. Nestled in the northwest corner of rugged Wyoming and spilling over into bits of Montana and Idaho, Yellowstone captures all the best of the west and rolls it up into one delicious destination.

Amazing too were the sights to be seen during our overnight stay in nearby Wapiti, Wyoming. Yes, before we even set foot in the park proper, We were treated to the sights, sounds and soul-satisfying tastes of a genuine western experience.

But you don't have to take my word for it. See for yourself.

^ We rolled into the Yellowstone Valley Inn after dark and went straight to the dining room. Bison burgers and hot turkey dinners under the elk horn chandelier? Yes, please. And you know there was a moose head mounted over the fireplace mantel.

^ Who would not dream sweet dreams in a bed of hand-hewn lodgepole pines and white rumpled sheets? I personally slept like an angel. Ranger had no complaints.

^ Our room opened on to a little patio out back, and when I peeped my head outside in the morning, this is what I found. Good morning, Wyoming!

With another amazing meal of down-home cooking under our belts, we pulled up our tent stakes and set off westward for our eagerly anticipated day at Yellowstone.

^ Even Ranger, with his sweet red head popped out the backseat window, was excited to see the sights.

* * * * *

Tomorrow's burning question: Will we find beanies before hypothermia sets in?

Click here to find out.

News Trend November Rain|Actual

It's that time of year again. The crisp, sunny skies of golden autumn have given way to bedraggled trees, overcast skies and unrelenting rain.

Hello, November. We meet again.

As I reluctantly abandon my outdoor afternoons for blankets and the couch, I hold dearly to one happy thought:

Just seven more weeks till the winter solstice and then we head back towards summer.

News Trend Yellowstone In The Afternoon|Actual

During our summer road trip, we saw more interesting sights that I could squeeze into my real-time posts. Now that I'm back home and have fished all 548 photos off my devices, I have a few more road trip stories to share.

To catch up on the rest of the trip, starthere.

After surviving an icy, wind-blown morning and a picnic lunch served inside a tornado, we were ready to take on the afternoon blitz of our one-day whirlwind through Yellowstone National Park.

Here's the most fascinating fact about this fabulous wilderness:

The park sits on top of an active super volcano.

Not even kidding.

Technically called a caldera, a word meaning "cauldron," the low, flat area of the park lies within the crater of the original volcano. Calderas are formed when the magma chamber beneath a volcano empties out during an eruption; the Yellowstone caldera resulted from three super eruptions, the most recent of which occurred 640,000 years ago.

Which simply means that the park is full of hot spots that bubble and boil, blast and steam, with appalling individuality and charm.

^ Active geysers, as the hot spots are generally known, make themselves known at a distance. Though the features may take several different forms - mud pots or steam vents, for example - all involve heat escaping the earth. Thus, these lovely steam clouds pop up here and there, their white presence even more striking as temperatures drop.

Gorgeous at a distance, the thermal features invite visitors to come closer. Though it's wildly unsafe to march across the weak surface of the hot spots on your own, the park offers countless boardwalks for humans to get up close and personal. Bison and elk are on their own, and often wander through the thermal areas while ignoring the huge crowds of people. We also came across several examples of big muddy hoof prints stomping along the walkway.

^All the thermal features are created by the same phenomenon, more or less. Water seeps through cracks in the ground and reaches the super heated magma, and returns to the surface as water, steam or mud, depending on its route. The speed of the return trip also varies, and water that is forced through narrow openings can shoot up under fierce pressure, creating world-class geysers.

This video shows a fairly typical spring, and features an off-camera interaction between an adorable Asian-American, my husband, and Ranger.

^ Personally, I'm a huge fan of the mud pots, with their thick, sloppy bubbles and soul-satisfying burbles. If I knew I wouldn't be scalded and then arrested, I would be tempted to hop right in.

^ Besides entertaining the eyes, the hot spots affect several other senses. Many emit some kind of sound - splashing, burbling, or even high-pitched squeals of gas escaping under pressure. This feature, cleverly named Dragon Geyser, produced a roaring sound that wasn't captured well in the video but you can use your imagination.

Also, keep in mind that a primary chemical component of these features is surphur. Yep, the whole place smells like rotten eggs. Or worse.

^ But the dramatic, other-worldly views are worth it all. Though the afternoon skies continued to churn out dark, threatening storm clouds, the sky did not burst.

In fact, the day slowly grew calmer and more temperate. As the sun slipped low in the sky, we left the geysers behind to head back into civilization and our hotel in West Yellowstone.

^ One last herd of bison stood on guard to witness our departure, but before we left the park, we had one more surprise in store.

Click here for the story of our last great Yellowstone adventure.

News Trend Yellowstone In The Morning|Actual

During our summer road trip, we saw more interesting sights that I could squeeze into my real-time posts. Now that I'm back home and have fished all 548 photos off my devices, I have a few more road trip stories to share.

To catch up on the rest of the trip, starthere.

After a lovely night spent on the east side of the mother of all national parks, we drew a deep breath and set off for Yellowstone proper. Once we crossed the park boundary, one magically majestic splendor after the next materialized before our very eyes.

I am not exaggerating. Check out these highlights of our morning's adventures to see for yourself.

^ Welcome to Lake Yellowstone. Family lore has it that as a little boy, my husband and his family were out fishing on the lake one summer's day when a huge thunderstorm blew in. Lightning began to strike in terrifying proximity and they rushed to the relative safety of the shore.

Also in the family archives is the story of the time we came here when Ranger was a tiny pup, and a raging snowstorm met us on the eastern shore of the lake.

This visit, the weather conditions threatened to storm yet again, and when we hopped out of the car at this windblown viewpoint for photos, my third-born and I found ourselves horrifyingly under-dressed. On the spot, we declared that the next stop would be the Fishing Village gift shop, where most certainly warm woolen beanies would be available for sale. They were. We each bought one and wore them all day long.

^ The Hayden Valley flanks the Yellowstone River, winding through the center of the huge park. This, according to my safari-minded father-in-law, is the prime vantage point for viewing wildlife, and sure enough, we saw the obligatory bison herd across the golden plains.

As much as I lvoe Yellowstone in the bright days of summer, I must admit that these September visits offer a special atmospheric beauty. Those dramatic clouds scuttled across the sky on a wild wind, and other than the shocking cold, the effect was thrilling.

^ For my money, this is the most iconic view in the park. The Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River cut through the colorful rock that gave the park its name. I can only imagine the dropping of jaws that most certainly occurred when the first white explorers stumbled onto this sight.

And the explorers who come to this place today continue to drop their jaws. As usual, the viewing areas here were jammed with an amazing variety of humans. Babies, grandmas, folks in wheelchairs, mobs of Asian tourists, and untold numbers of urban adventurers clogged the guardrails to gaze in admiration. Literally everyone over the age of three held a camera and engaged in the great art of selfie-ing with the scenery. Honestly, I felt like I was at an art gallery or a club, and while perhaps not as poetic as a lone visit, the experience definitely got my blood pumping.

* * * * *

Time for lunch. Have you ever picnicked while wrapped in two sweatshirts and a blanket, while the howling wind attempted to blow every morsel of your meal to kingdom come?

Click here to see if we survived.

News Trend Yellowstone In The Evening|Actual

During our summer road trip, we saw more interesting sights that I could squeeze into my real-time posts. Now that I'm back home and have fished all 548 photos off my devices, I have a few more road trip stories to share.

To catch up on the rest of the trip, starthere.

Our day at Yellowstone National Park was quickly drawing to a close.

^ Contentedly, we made our way west along the Madison River, recounting all our favorite moments of the day.

We saw windswept Yellowstone Lake, icy blue beneath her windcapped waves.

We hiked to the upper and lower falls on the Yellowstone River, taking in their beauty with a billion other tourists of the day.

We spied several herds of big, bad bison who blithely ignored us and went about their bison business.

We picnicked in a windy grove.

We explored less-frequented trails and off-the-main-road drives, finding scenic treasures far from the madding crowds.

And we walked among the geysers and hot springs and mud pots and steam vents to our very hearts' content.

Granted, we had hoped to see a moose but that's always a long shot.

So it was with our cups already overflowing that we noticed a sudden back-up of traffic along the park road.

Well. That's always a sure sign of a wildlife sighting.

Far be it from me to pass up a close encounter of the nature kind, so we pulled over and I hopped out to do some scouting.

^ There they were. On the far side of the river, safe and secure in their little threesome, stood a trio of female elk. Grazing in the lush grasses, their golden fur and white tails ablaze in the evening light, their beauty was breathtaking. My daughters soon joined me, and we stood transfixed, watching and expectantly waiting for whatever might happen next.

But never could we have predicted the unearthly sounds that soon rang out from the line of trees behind the cows. Bellowing trumpet calls like nothing I had ever heard before.

Now a massive male elk stepped boldly out from the forest, maybe twenty yards from the females. He paused, emitted another majestic cry, then nobly strode out toward the river, pausing now and then to stop, draw a scent, and evaluate his circumstances. Again, and again, the bugling cries rang out.

And just when the situation seemed almost unbearably fantastic, a second male broke from the forest, between the group of females and the first male. Suddenly I realized that both males were trumpeting, calling back and forth to one another, clearly competing for the attention of the females. Closer and closer they came toward us, still safely separated by the breadth of the river, but now we could see through our binoculars their massive antlers turning this way and that, black noses quivering on the wind.

It might have been ten minutes that we stood and stared; it might have been forever. Eventually, first one male and then the second regally climbed back up the ridge and disappeared into the trees. The females, for their part, continued with their meal, seemingly unimpressed by their menfolks' commotion.

As for us, we made our way back to the car, and rode in stunned silence to our hotel, remembering a morning, an afternoon, and a most eventful evening in Yellowstone National Park that we will not soon forget.

News Trend Tales From The Windstorm|Actual

This story starts with a nap.

Yesterday, I came home from a busy day of teaching to find my dog and my fourth-born taking a lovely siesta on my bed. As the rain pitter-pattered peacefully against the window, I was irresistibly drawn to join them. Tugging on a free corner of the down comforter, I curled up in the last remaining corner of the bed and soon fell into a sweet dream of my own.

Whooooooosh

Swoooooop

SMASH

I awoke to sounds of great distress and destruction. Fierce winds had stirred up during my nap and now howled through my backyard, only gaining in force as they funneled between the rows of houses. But what caused the crash?

As I jumped up to pull shut the window, I suddenly understood. Two large panels of my six-foot cedar fence had burst from their supports, and now lay pell-mell across the garden.

A homeowner's tragedy to be sure, but I've been lobbying to get those four-by-fours replaced for years now. Looks like my fence has finally earned itself a spot at the top of the to-do list and I can't say I'm all that sad.

This is the first of my tales from our big wind storm, but it is not the last.

* * * * *

^ The gnarly winds whipping up the hill reached upwards of 60 miles per hour around my house, and reportedly topped out at close to 120 m.P.H. In the mountains. Lucky as we were, those gales still managed to wrestle this massive rose off my front trellis and deposit it on the sidewalk and street below.

^ So this afternoon, armed with various trimming devices, an eight-foot ladder, heavy pair of gloves, and my able assistants, Daughters Number Two and Four, I wrestled the beast into submission.

* * * * *

6:09 p.m. - Me, realizing that our power has miraculously survived the storm, so far:

"Tessa, maybe we should light some candles, just in case the power goes out."

Tessa: "Okay, I'm on it." Lights candles.

6:14 p.m. - We lose power.

6:29 p.M. - Husband returns home from work: "So, what's the dinner plan?"

                  Me (pathetically): "Umm, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"

                  Husband (purely logical): "But we're out of bread."

                  Me: "I just took a new loaf out of the freezer. We can defrost it....Oh, well, toast it...."

                  Husband (who almost never suggests that we eat out): "Frozen PB & J? Let's eat out."

                  Me: :)

6:40 p.m. - Driving along the main drag through town, we realize the power outage is more                                   widespread than we expected. We pass one low-cost option after the next, all dark and                          clearly closed., Before we know it, we end up at Alderwood Mall, where the power is on                       and business at all the big chain/pricey restaurants is booming.

6:55 p.m. - Husband: "Tessa, you have a lot of dietary restrictions. Where do you want to eat...the                          food court?"

                  Tessa, kind of joking, kind of not: "The food court is for hobos, How about P.F. Chang's?"

                  Me: "HOBOS? Really?? There are hobos who eat at the mall???"

                  Husband: "Alright."

7:15 p.m. - Me, happily tucking into my bowl of Singapore Street Noodles at a restaurant that I've                          been wanting to try for years: :)

* * * * *

^Thankfully, my big red balls survived the storm virtually unscathed. One, obviously, was upended, but all the rest of the aerodynamic darlings stayed right in place, rather than rolling down the hill to crash in a billion pieces, as one might expect.

* * * * *

Early this morning in the still hours before dawn, my brain emerged from the fog of sound sleep to hear Ranger scratching at my bedroom door. Slowly, I put together the facts of the matter.

Ranger wanted to go outside for his usual bathroom break.

He had missed the opportunity to slip out with my husband when he went downstairs.

It was in my best interests to help my dog make his way to the nearest bush.

And as I tossed back my covers, a fourth fact emerged:

The power was still out and it was freaking cold.

I stumbled to the door, eased it open past Ranger's eager nose, and let him out first. Much to my delight, I found my husband, still at home, walking up the stairs with a flashlight to retrieve Ranger.

When Ranger scratches at a door to go out, the whole house knows what's up.

Ready to leap back into my warm bed, I paused for a moment to watch the merry twosome head downstairs. My husband descended the first two steps, his flashlight beam trained on the wall ahead, his feet finding their way on the dark steps.

Ranger, however, froze at the top landing. He stood, expectantly watching and waiting, though I couldn't imagine why.

Then, on his own accord, my husband shifted the beam of light so that the steps themselves were now illuminated.

And Ranger immediately resumed his journey, safely trotting down the well-lit stairs.

All bragging aside, he is a remarkably smart and adaptable fellow. :)

* * * * *

^ Here's the scene of the backyard crime. The fencing panel on the left is hanging as precariously as a six-year-old's front tooth; the gap to the right represents the second panel which fully crashed and burned into the neighbor's shrubbery. I wonder how long the queue will be to get fence repair after this mighty storm.

* * * * *

Due to a downed power line drooping dangerously low over the street, Ranger and I were forced to alter the route of our daily walk today. When I veered off in this unexpected direction, he looked up at me in concern, clearly wondering if I had lost my mind. But as I rerouted us through a parking lot to eventually rejoin our normal path, he marched along happily, following my directional instructions and evidently trusting in my leadership.

All that changed the moment he caught sight of our normal trail. Though it was now within sight of our vantage point in the parking lot, we could not feasibly get to our walking path of choice until we hiked to the far end of the second lot, and then looped back onto the trail.

But while Ranger originally trusted my guidance, as soon as he saw the familiar pathway in plain view, he was bound and determined to get us back on track. He obediently returned again and again to my side upon command, but each time I let him wander to his own devices, he bee-lined right back toward that trail.

Happy and satisfied was the little guy when we finally completed our short cut and returned to the normal circuit. And amused was I to learn just how much our daily traditions mean to him.

* * * * *

^ Thank goodness my pallet garden was not harmed in the fence blow-out. I would have rebuilt it before dinner.

* * * * *

The storm blew itself out before bedtime last night. Our power came back on around noon today.

And when things got back to normal, I breathed a nice, big sigh of relief:

The load of laundry that was on spin when the storm hit can finally finish up.

Wool hats in the unheated house are no longer necessary.

The router is back online and hallelujah, the wifi is up.

And we can finally catch up on that all-important season finale of Below Deck that we so tragically missed last night.

But I will admit, for all the drama and inconvenience, I had some fun during this wild adventure and I am a bit sad to see it end; I'll remember these tales from the windstorm for a long time to come.

* * * * *

^Though the cats were a bit anxious during the heart of the storm, Luna quickly recovered his cool and headed back outdoors to supervise our clean-up.

Ooops, Looks like we missed an overturned chair. Sorry, boss.

News Trend Almost Home|Actual

During our summer road trip, we saw more interesting sights that I could squeeze into my real-time posts. Now that I'm back home and have fished all 548 photos off my devices, I have a few more road trip stories to share.

To catch up on the rest of the trip, starthere.

Drawing close to home is a pivotal moment in any road trip. But when you hail, as I do, from Seattle, Washington, where we find ourselves tucked all the way up into the extreme northwest corner of the continent, it's kind of a special big deal.

When we come back from the open road, there's a sense of retreat, of withdrawing from the wider world to our private little niche; a place that no one goes through; only to. During my early years in the Midwest, I returned from road trips to more centrally located, along-the-highway type hometowns, and the sense of retreat and return was considerably less emotional.

Hello, mighty Columbia River. I've been a Washingtonian for decades now, and I still can't believe I live so close to your wild, beautiful self.

^ Crossing your home state line certainly qualifies as a major milestone on any road trip, but in geographically bipolar Washington, the east side of the state feels as foreign as the moon to us west-siders. For me, it's not until I cross the mighty Columbia River that my heart truly begins to stir. With the wheat fields of the Palouse behind me, and the slow steady climb up the lee side of the Cascade Range about to begin, I sense the terrestrial tides beginning to turn.

Infinite stands of deep green firs growing thick and deep green across the mountains? Moody, overcast clouds? Dreamy patches of fog drifting across the landscape, even in the middle of a summer's day?

Check. Check. And check. I'm definitely back in the PNW.

But the high point - quite literally - of every trip home is arriving at Snoqualmie Pass. Here, at the crest of the mountains, the dry forests of eastern Washington give way in a rush to the lush, foggy Douglass firs, and the true Pacific Northwest begins.

From this summit, it's an hour max to downtown Seattle and the western terminus of Interstate 90. How satisfying it is to come literally to the end of the longest interstate in the US of A, and bumping smack dab into the little chunk of Pacific Ocean known as Puget Sound. You definitely know the road trip's over when you run out of land.

Then, with one last right turn, we head north for the final twenty minutes of our journey, rolling through the familiar city streets and suburbs of our normal, everyday life.

And then we are home, cozy in our little corner of the great big world, where we live our happy lives and wait with anticipation for the next road trip to begin.