Thermophiles

Before we left Montana we had a very pleasant evening. We went for dinner to the Montana Rib and Chop, a meat lover's paradise which seems to be a bit of an institution in these parts. It had a relaxed atmosphere and there were lots of people wearing cowboy hats; James manfully munched his way though an entire rack of ribs, he was like a caveman. And after dinner we sat out in the hotel's lovely garden for ages, reading our books as bunny rabbits hopped around. 

Anyway this morning we were back on the road again, heading for Yellowstone National Park, the central part of our holiday around which all the rest has been planned. We had asked Davie where he would like to go on holiday this year (since his brothers are both working and have other plans) and he chose Yellowstone because as an avid watcher of the Discovery Channel he has seen various documentaries about it and has dreamed of going there. It took us about three hours to reach the north entrance to the park and our first port of call was the amazing Mammoth Hot Springs. Reminiscent of Pamukkale in Turkey which we visited in the 1980s, the hot springs gush forth from limestone which builds up into ridges and basins. The algae and plants that flourish in such intense heat are called thermophiles. I am not a thermophile. There is an extensive system of boardwalks which we walked around in the blazing heat. I quaffed so much water that I was in urgent need of a visit to the toilet. Those who know me will understand that I am not shy about going to the toilet outdoors, but alas there was no opportunity because it was forbidden to leave the boardwalk in case you fell through the thin crust to a horrific death by melting. Luckily there was a decent (chemical) toilet at the top of the trail. James and Davie were in a happy frenzy of science combined with photography; at one point while waiting for them in a shady spot I was amused by the vocal dismay of many Americans when they realised that there was a car park at the top and they could have avoided the hot walk uphill.