Tuesday, May thirty-first was my first night in Yellowstone. I had entered the eastern gate, and eaten lunch sitting on a rock in Sylvan Pass at eight thousand, five hundred—surrounded by snow. Then I flew downhill for twenty-two miles to take a four dollar and sixteen cent shower at the Fishing Bridge RV complex. I ate supper at the Fishing Bridge Café and then turned south on the Grand Road intending to get a Hiker/Biker camp site at the Bridge Bay campground located four miles south. On the way, a car of young Asian females slowed down next to me and snapped a picture. They sped away tittering like school girls, and I just shook my head.
|Photo Location:||Wyoming, United States of America|
|Copyright:||© John Scanlan|