Geyser Land

We woke up to anther 20 degree morning. At the word "Go", we threw back the blankets, pulled on our pants and coats and were out the door in two minutes flat. This might be a world record (as long as sleeping with 90% of our clothes on doesn't disqualify us).

We pulled open the wooden door to the Old Faithful Inn and casually strolled past the people waiting for a breakfast table. We were two ordinary people heading to the bathrooms with hat-head hair, a toothbrush in one pocket and, for me, a bra in the other. Nothing unusual about that.

By 10:00 am the sun had warmed the air outside to a broiling 35 degrees and we headed to the geysers. A row of camcorders and instamatic cameras were poised on the boardwalk. They were a sure sign that Old Faithful was ready to blow again. We walked to the visitor's center. Five minutes later the ranger on duty there picked up his microphone, and in a voice fit for announcing the Queen, amplified the words "Old Faithful" into the air. He watched intently as she exploded, then wrote down the time and date of the eruption. Then, as if he had done this a hundred times before, he walked to the bulletin board, pulled off the plastic numbers and replaced them with new ones indicating the time of the next show. What a job.

Our job for the rest of the day was much more exciting. We were going to take pictures. As it turned out, there was so much to photograph that we had to go back to the car for more film.