"Stir" takes to the road again!

[Stir Young]

Hey, its me, Gary Young! You know, the smart alecky guy who was gonna go out west??? I thought I might try doing one of these blog thingies about my trip to Yellowstone Park and back.

So who is Stir? Well, that's been my nickname since I was in high school. I was originally called "Youngster" by one of my friends, I guess because I only looked about 12 years old when I was a Junior. As time went on, "Youngster" got shortened to "Ster", or "Stir", as I prefer to spell it, and people just ASSUMED that the shortened variety came about because I "stirred" up trouble. Why, nothing could be further from the truth....c'mon, you know me....I'm a peacemaker!

Well, anyway, about 2 years ago, I embarked on a quest to find people whom I'd worked with in Yellowstone Park in the summer of 1969. It became a cooperative project as I found others, and they started looking too. Along the way, we've been able to account for about 12 people, and the idea for an employee reunion came about. That reunion took place on August 14th and 15th 2009, in Gardiner, Montana, and the story that follows will hopefully tell a little about the summer of 1969 in Yellowstone Park, and my journey back there 40 years later.

And just who is that mischieveous looking guy up above? Why that's me, in the summer of 1969, of course.

[Stir Young]

I continued through Fishing Bridge Junction heading northerly toward Canyon, passing through Hayden Valley. There were no buffalo, or bison jams, unlike on my trip through there two days earlier. The panoramic view over this area was magnificent.

[Stir Young]

The drive from West Thumb to Fishing Bridge Junction primarily follows along the westerly side of Yellowstone Lake. This drive was beautiful. Looking out over the lake at certain places reminded me of looking out over Lake Superior.

Trees, in several places along the road were without bark on one side. I think I had read somewhere that it was caused by bison rubbing to slough off winter coats.

There were also thermal features, including one vent that was blocked by sawhorses in a turnout.

The photo above doesn't give justice to the beauty of Yellowstone Lake. There was a mist or fog which seemed to leave things out of focus.

[Stir Young]

As I write this, my memories are still very vivid. I kept a little journal to jot down items like where I went on what day, what route, and the like. My pictures are stored chronologically to help me keep things straight.

What I notice now is that I took no pictures, and have no memories of my drive from Old Faithful to West Thumb. Maybe it was due to old person memory loss.

[Stir Young]

Traffic did get heavier when I reached the various geyser basins of the area. There were a lot of people on the boardwalks where the basins were visable from the road. I made a decision to not stop, but rather keep heading east to West Thumb.

In 1969 I remembered going to Old Faithful only once. That was the same day I had the "primal screamer" hitchiker along. After I parted company with him at the Grand Traverse of the Yellowstone, I ended up at Old Faithful, where my memories tell me it was very crowded.

I couldn't help but think that the crowds I encountered in 1969 would have been miniscule compared to the 2009 crowds. I decided to save a return to Old Faithful to another visit to the park. At least a full day, and even more if possible, should be allowed to visit that area.

[Stir Young]

Back on the road, I reentered Yellowstone National Park, and headed back toward Madison Junction. Rather than heading back through the construction zone, I had decided to swing south to the Old Faithful area.

I never really encountered long stretches of heavy road traffic while in the park, but rather, I found that through the mid parts of the day the attractions and scenic turnouts were invariably clogged with cars and vehicles.

Soon after I turned toward Old Faithful, I came to the entrance to a one way road that followed the Firehole River. This was a beautiful drive, looking down over the rapidly running river. As was often the case, though, I never found a spot to park. I kept going and soon rejoined the main road.

[Stir Young]

I walked back to the museum, and took several pictures of wagons on display there, both inside and outdoors. I also browsed over the books that were for sale, and of course bought one.

[Stir Young]

I had just passed a little book store called "The Bookworm" just before I ate, so I stopped back in there to browse a bit. This place was really cool, an old fashioned bookstore, the kind that was around before the Borders and Barnes and Noble super stores took over.

There were all kinds of nooks and crannies here, mostly filled with used books, and neat, quirky memorabilia. It was almost overwhelming, I could have browsed there for hours, but I really wanted to move along, so I didn't buy anything. I wanted to go back to the museum in the railroad station again before I went back into the park.

I also saw a store with racks of "wifebeaters" out on the sidewalk in front. I stopped to look, and the sign said they were 2 for $20.00. I impulsively picked out a couple and took them in to pay. The sales attendant seemed a little uncomfortable when I said, to make conversation, "gee, two "wifebeaters" for twenty, how can I go wrong?".

Sometimes younger females don't get my sense of humor.

[Stir Young]

I walked by this place, Buckeroo Bill's, on the main street running parallel to the park boundary, and knew this was it....the place for lunch.

I sat outside at one of the tables, and gave my order to a young hispanic guy. His English was very limited, it seemed, but he understood my order well enough, because in short order he brought out the tacos I had ordered. The food was quite ordinary, but acceptable. After all, the ambience was worth something too. After I finished eating, I decided to walk a little further and see what the stores had to offer.

[Stir Young]

My memories of West Yellowstone from 1969 were of a small western town, kind of rough around the edges. That is not what I found in 2009. This place had huge motels and hotels, and lots of them. It had fast food restuarants. It also had a Radio Shack, which is where I headed to get more minutes put on my cheapo Cell phone.

I understood that I could get more minutes by calling, or going online, but I really had not warmed up to the idea of carrying a cell, and the thought of fumbling around obtaining minutes myself was daunting, to say the least. I got it only because, at age 62, I felt that occasionaly keeping in touch with family and friends back home was a prudent thing to do.

The young dude in the Radio Shack quickly added the minutes, far faster than I could have ever done it, and I was on my way again.

I drove around a bit, but I did not recognize anything. In 1969, Nake and I had pounded down too many beers the night before we applied for jobs, and I thought it was in some rustic bar. I had no idea where it was, or if it even still existed.

I looked for the old Hamilton Headquarters, but it wasn't where I thought it might be. As I found out later, the building still existed, but I had looked in the wrong place.

I easily found the old railroad depot, as it was right on the main drag that went into the park. I had read about it now being a museum, so I stopped to take a look.

The building had been renovated so time back, and now housed the Yellowstone Historic Center. A friendly senior citizen greeted me and asked me what state I was from. He also gave me a senior discount, which I appreciated, as I still forgot to ask for that most of the time. I noticed that "Michigan" printed out on my receipt.

This musuem was done quite well, I thought. I was intrigued by several horse drawn vehicles that had been restored or stabilized. There was also a room in which a movie about the fire of 1988 was showing.

I was getting very hungry, so I decided to leave the museum and go to the McDonalds next door for a bite to eat. I thought I might head back to the museum after I ate, and of course, look over the book selection. As I approached the Mickey D's I saw that there was a line out the door, so I changed plans immediately, and headed back onto the main street to see it I could find a less crowded place.

[Stir Young]

The road passed through Madison Junction, and continued on following the Madison River. This was another beautiful drive through a canyon.

Eventually the road and river led into a valley, perhaps not as majestic as some of the other sights, but no less beautiful.

I came to the West Entrance, and exited the park. I was back in West Yellowstone after a 40 year absence. This time, however, I was NOT gonna get a "Hamilton Special" haircut! What with being bald on the top, I don't feel like I get my money's worth when I get a store bought haircut anymore!