Vocabulary word for the weekend: a young swan is a cygnet. A cygnet, on the Madison River:
A bison, patiently waiting to board the snow coach:
We met in Bozeman Friday night then drove to West Yellowstone where we dumped the car and hopped on the snow coach. We took the "regular" run (as opposed to the "express" run), which included stops at the warming hut for hot drinks and to see animals, mostly elk, bison, and birds. Hannah and Noam at Firehole Falls, on our scenic detour down Firehole Canyon Drive:
The last stop before Old Faithful was at one of the geyser basins, where we saw the cutest critter, a short-tailed weasel, also known as an ermine in his black and white winter coat. He was darting back and forth under the snow. They are apparently ferocious hunters, but also adorable:
We checked in to the lodge, then immediately headed out to watch Old Faithful:
Sunday morning, Hannah, Noam and I hiked to a higher spot to watch Old Faithful. The geyser is in the center of the picture, about 1/4 of the way from the top. The snow lodge is to the left of the geyser in the picture. The building with the steeply-pitched roof to the right of the geyser in the picture is the historical Old Faithful Inn, which is closed during the winter, presumably because it costs a fortune to heat.
Sunday afternoon, Hannah and I stayed inside while Noam and Dad went cross country skiing. Noam took this amazing shot of a field of bison poo. The bison spend a lot of time around the thermal features in the winter because (surprise!) it is warmer there. Hey bison! Leave no trace!
Hiking the board walk that winds through the thermal features near Old Faithful:
Monday morning, it was time to head home. The snow coach stopped at the Fountain Paint Pots on the way out of the park:
It was getting really cold when we left - the forecast low temperature for Monday night was 28 below - so there was a lot of other-worldly mist over the thermal areas. I loved loved loved this trip, I wish we had stayed longer. The best part was the lack of people. Years ago, I went to Yellowstone for the first time with my stepsister in July. I remember the boardwalk around Old Faithful being packed with people five or six deep all around the circle, probably over a thousand people. This trip, we watched Old Faithful erupt probably half a dozen times, and there were never more than ten other people watching with us.
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