Yellowstone

Sometimes, places can be built up so much in your head that when you actually get there, they’re extremely underwhelming.  Iowa was one of those places.  After driving around Des Moines for an hour, Ethan turned to me: “Bro, what are we doing here?  This isn’t the Iowa your mom knew.  Let’s get out of here.” 

            I couldn’t have agreed more, and we quickly got on the freeway and left Des Moines.  So far, we had pretty much followed what I wanted to do: Chicago, Iowa and going West in general.  I could sense Ethan kind of wanted to take the wheel, literally and figuratively.  I asked him, “Where do you want to go, fam?”

                        “I kind of just want to drive, you know, and experience the road.”  So, off we went, to experience the road.   At this point, I think it’s important that we talk about the biggest elephant in the car—the music.  It’s probably a fair assumption that the most important part of any trip, road or no road, is the music.   It has been scientifically proven that the reason for the failure of everything from Apollo 13 to The Great Train Wreck of 1918, to any car crash ever, has been terrible music.   It is also one of the Ten Commandments that whoever is sitting shotgun control the music, so it was all on me.   All on me.  I decided on some Drake, first off because Drake is amazing, and also because Ethan would like it.  He mostly likes rap and country.  Weird, I know.  However, I wasn’t going to let his love for country get in the way of the safety of our road trip.  After all, they say just as Jim Lovell was starting to listen to country music, Apollo 13 went to shit. 

The cornfields went on and on and on.  Drake switched into Kanye, who turned into Chance, who morphed into Jay-Z. It was time for a switch, so I shifted to Classic Rock just as we turned north at Omaha. Paul McCartney and Mick Jagger filled the car as we got on I-29.  Ethan still didn’t tell me where we were going, he just drove on.  I was okay with that, I looked out the window as we drove on.   I slowly closed me eyes and before I knew I was asleep.

The sun shone brightly in my eyes when I woke up.  That didn’t make sense—as I was going to sleep, the sun was setting.  I looked over at Ethan and he had a singular focus on the road.  Led Zepplin was quietly playing and I asked him what time it was. 

“I don’t know, probably 6 or 7.”

“In the morning?! Ethan, you drove all night?”

“Ya, I had to get somewhere.” He replied distinctly.

            Then, almost on command, a sign appeared in the distance.  Yellowstone National Park.  Ethan had driven across the entire state of South Dakota and most of Wyoming, but I understood why, Yellowstone held a mystic appeal to him.  Even though he grew up in the city for most of his life, but he always loved nature.  It seems almost natural that he would come here, and I was more than happy to be a spectator in his love affair with America’s grandest National Park.

            It was a blue, September day and the leaves were just starting to change colors.  We pulled into the park and stopped at one of the picnic stops.  There was a really old school truck with a cabin on top of it parked next to us.  An old dog sat obediently in control the front seat.   I looked at the license plate and saw another New York plate.  What were the chances?

            Ethan and I got out and stretched our legs.  We got out some Cheerios and bananas from the car and broke bread leaning against the trunk. All of a sudden, the back of the truck opened up and an old man hopped out and spoke to us:

            “Hey, how are you?  I noticed the New York plates.”

            “Ya, not many of us out here.”

            “Oh, I just live in New York now, but I’m originally from California…”

            “Well, that’s where we’re headed.” Ethan chimed in.

            “Is this your first time here?”  The old man seemed extremely intelligent, and creative.  He had to have been a writer. 

            “Yeah, what about yourself”
            “Yup, although I have to say I don’t think this is that great, it isn’t more representative of America than, than, Disneyland for example.”  Ethan’s face showed visible shock as the man said this.  Ethan replied:

“Well, I think this a lot more peaceful.”  Almost on command, the man’s dog barked and we turned around.  No more than 200 feet away from us stood a huge Grizzly Bear.  We could see the saliva dripping from his mouth and could hear his breathing.  My heart skipped a beat.  The old man spoke softly:

“Stay quite, and don’t make any sudden movements.  Go slowly to your car and then get out of here as fast as possible.” 

That was it.  We did exactly as he said and sped out of Yellowstone as fast as possible.  We didn’t even go to see Old Faithful, we just got back on the road.  Off we went.