Bubbling, Steaming Things in Yellowstone

More training today for your struggling Guest Services Agent.  We cleaned our front desk area, because it isn't embarrassing enough to earn minimum wage for a job that requires over two weeks of training.  Let's throw in some dusting and sweeping. 

We had a safety program from, let's call him Bill.  No woman dressed him this morning.  We had to learn how to handle the fire alarm panel behind the guest services desk.  There is some complicated system of pushing buttons before all out panic hits.  The board tells where the fire is located and then a runner is sent with a  radio to check it out.  We were all to get our turns running.  I was willing, but since I have no idea where any of the rooms are located, it became a team effort. 

My roommate started to join us.  Not a good idea.  I encouraged her to stay behind.  Our morning walk to work in subzero weather took her twice as long as it should have.  I zoomed ahead and hoped that she would turn up eventually.  So, back to the fire drill.  You would have been proud of me.  I zipped right along behind the twenty somethings, up three flights of steps, down a long hall and carried the fire extinguisher to boot.  Part was just panic that if I lost them, I would suffer the humiliation of wandering the halls looking for the front desk.

It's picture time.

This is the back of the Old Faithful Inn, a sight I see several times a day.

This is the first part of the path to my dorm.

The second part of the path.

At last, in the far distance, you see my dorm.

This is not for the faint of heart.  It rained and sleeted last night and the walk was covered in ice this morning.

It is dropping to six degrees tonight.

You better love walking and you better love winter in May before you head this way.

After dinner, Grizzly, the girl friend and I decided to explore the Fountain Paint Pots down the road. 

There is a long board walk that winds by steaming, bubbling, colorful pits of acidic mud.  At this time of year, it bubbles like thick soup.  The geothermal heat keeps it all going.

Mostly steaming.

More steaming.

Lots of bubbling.

More bubbling.

Frost on a tree next to the steaming and bubbling.

And at last, me, wishing that it was just a bit warmer.  It's hard to enjoy the scenery when your eyeballs have frozen open.










Yellowstone National Park is a fascinating, bubbling, steaming, erupting place.  Don't worry.  I'm watching where I am going.  Innocent looking ground could be hiding a hot secret.  I never thought I would fear dirt, but now I don't turn my back on it.

That's all for tonight folks.  The snoring has begun.