Interstate Adventures

After checking out all the first-come first-served campgrounds in the Shoshone National Forest in Wyoming, we were excited to snag a spot underneath giant cliffs. I could hear the sound of moving water just behind the site. I imagined taking a walk down to the river after setting up camp. We could have a nice night outside and get to bed early for an early start into Yellowstone the next day.  

We filled out the form and put cash in the envelope for spot 24. The campground host popped out of his camper and introduced himself and said, “I just want you to know I have a game camera set up in the spot next to yours. There’s been a grizzly going at a rotten log.” I decided to control my horror and ask, “Why a rotten log?” Then I flooded him with questions. “Is it okay to cook? Can we cook outside? Why is there a couple in a tent over there?” He advised us to not cook outdoors and carry bear spray. He also said about the tent couple, “To each their own.” Then he said, “Just don’t go down to the river and claim that log as yours and you will be okay.” I set up our own game camera hoping to capture something. Then we took a walk around the place. The entire time I was on high alert for anything big and brown. No one was outside except for the tent couple.  

The next night we checked into another campground and we were told to carry bear spray in the mornings and evenings if we were walking or going to the bathrooms. We realized we only had one can of bear spray. I bought another can of bear spray at the camp store. While checking out I mentioned, “I do not want a grizzly to find me, but I sure would like to find one in Yellowstone.” The store clerk said, “See that lady over there? She’s my wife and she is a bear enthusiast and amateur photographer. I’m going to introduce you to her.” He pulled his phone out and showed me some pictures of grizzlies that she took in the park. He said, “If you want to see a grizzly, you need to put in the miles. Forget about how much gas costs.” 

The clerk’s wife shared tips on finding a bear at Yellowstone. We needed to go to Hayden Valley or Lamar Valley at dawn or dusk. We needed to wait. She said, “When you drive down the road and see a bunch of cars stop. Find the people with a scope and ask them what they see.”

A few days later while doing laundry at the same campground, I greeted a young woman who came in with a load that was almost entirely jeans. Something told me she worked at the rodeo across the street. Maybe it was her giant belt buckle or her braids and bright youthful face that resembled Jessie from Toy Story. 

She was from southern Idaho. I asked her if they had bears like here. She said, “Not where I’m from.” She mentioned she worked at the rodeo across the street. She followed that up with, “Seems a grizzly’s been beddin’ down behind our trailers. None of us go outside at night.” I asked her if she was afraid to go back to her camper at the end of the day. She said, “We walk each other home at 10 p.m. after our chores.”

At this point, I was sure I was going to see a grizzly. We were in the park on several evenings in search of a grizzly. First we drove to a secluded 6-mile dirt road. It was quiet. We kept saying to each other, “If I were a bear, I would be here.” I held my camera in my lap, ready to capture a grizzly. The next night we had a picnic in Hayden Valley just by a river and beneath a giant field that would be a perfect spot for grizzlies. During dinner we kept running up the hill to look in the field. Nothing. 

On our way home one evening, we stopped on the side of the road where everyone was looking into the woods. I took out my camera. Two young women came to the van and asked me what I saw. I said, “Just elk. I wish it was a grizzly.” We laughed about how hard it was to find them and how scared we were at the same time that a grizzly would find us.

We left Yellowstone and entered Grand Teton National Park. We were in a heavily wooded area. The traffic suddenly came to a stop and five cars ahead of us a brown, shaggy mother bear and two cubs crossed the road. It was 2:30 p.m. I still have the image in my mind.