There was a layer of ice on the Blue Car this morning when I went out of the Inn, in the dark, at 6:00am. Of course there was ice…I was parked next to Old Faithful and the Upper Geyser Basin…with the air thick in moisture from the steaming geysers. And guess what I forgot to pack, of all the contingency plans I considered, and emergency supplies and car parts I brought on this road trip?
To be fair to myself, the Blue Car is garaged when I am home and it goes into its winter slumber before I have to worry about ice and snow. I can’t remember ever carrying an ice scraper in the car. And guess, what? I still don’t have an ice scraper in the car.
My discovery, in the cold morning (29F), before the light started glowing on the horizon, was already the third threshold (use the word challenge if you will) I had to get over this morning to be on my way.
And I had a good morning planned. After checking in here at Yellowstone yesterday, I talked to the enthusiastic Inn manager Dimitri about the best places to go for sunrise. I am a morning person and love the idea of having a piece of the park to myself at dawn. With my marked-up map in hand, I settled down to make a plan.
But then I hit the first threshold to executing this plan when I didn’t sleep last night. This has only happened once before on this road trip. I tossed and turned and fell asleep and then woke up 15 minutes later and repeated the pattern all night. When the alarm went off at 5am I was already awake. And I was tired. The second threshold to get over to be at my magical sunrise spot? I looked out at the pitch black through my window and shivered. I had left the window open last night as the south facing space heated up in the afternoon rays and I like sleeping in a cooler room. But the room was cold at 5am. Really cold. I looked at my warm bed and thought, “This isn’t a good day to see the sunrise at Black Sand Basin.” I was losing resolve fast. But I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep so I started packing up for a day of exploring the geyser basins and hiking to Fairy Falls even if I didn’t get out in time for sunrise. I figured I should just start moving. I put the charged battery in my camera and ran a test shot. No go. My favorite lens didn’t focus. It worked yesterday and every other day of this road trip. I fiddled, took it off, put it on, turned the camera on and off, tried manual focus, put another lens on to make sure it wasn’t the camera itself (camera fine), and then tested my favorite lens again. Nothing.
At this point I wanted to ditch the morning. No sleep, a freezing cold room, and my lens not focusing. Sure signs I should get back into bed with a book and maybe with luck, get some sleep. But something inside me felt stubborn. In my mind, I had already faced and crossed three thresholds, I had done all the work and was almost where I wanted to be. I kept moving.
So…that’s where I found myself at 6:00am, looking at a crust of ice on the car with no ice scraper. I laughed out loud. A really loud and satisfying laugh. Then I got the car started so it could do its long work to heat up and I walked to the end of the parking lot where I saw a pickup truck with its lights on. “Hi there…do you have an ice scraper I can borrow?” The words were barely out of my mouth before I saw a tall fellow leaning out of his window scraping ice off the windshield (unsuccessfully) with a paper towel. He didn’t have an ice scraper either and he was too lazy to get out of his truck. This, irrationally, made me feel so much better.
I went back to the Blue Car and used the next best thing to an ice scraper; my National Parks Annual Pass gave me extra value this morning. In a pinch, it is an excellent ice scraper. Oh, and have I mentioned that I then discovered the rear defrosters aren’t working? I stopped counting thresholds at that point.
I made it to Black Sand Basin with its mystical bubbling pools just as it was getting light. I was the only one there and the mystery and magic of it all washed over me as steam floated above the pools and sun started peaking from the clouds. I wasn’t at Yellowstone. I was in outer space, or the best scene of a scifi novel, or any other world where the ground bubbles and gurgles and spits steam and the sun begins to glow in the mist as it peaks through the dawn clouds.
I was so glad I crossed those thresholds this morning. But it took effort. Traveling alone, it is sometimes a bit harder to nudge myself to do something. There is no one jumping up and down next to me saying, “we have to see this, I am so excited…this has been on my bucket list for ages!” And it sometimes just really involves something as simple as crossing that first threshold. Taking that first step to get things going.
I don’t call the sleepless night, the malfunctioning lens, the ice-encrusted car, barriers. It takes too much psychological and physical work to get past barriers: you break them, or smash through. Thresholds? I can simply step over them. I can walk past that imaginary line that separates moving forward or giving up. I can walk through that imaginary doorway toward my destination, my planned morning. Once I am past that, the rest comes easily.
It was an epic day. I stayed at Black Sand Basin for a long time as the sun teased its appearance and then hid behind the clouds, changing the scene from minute to minute. I traveled up to the next geyser basin, and the next, and then hiked eight miles to Fairy Falls and had it all to myself. I left just as the crowds were starting to arrive and I must have passed one hundred people on the trail back to the parking lot. I felt more self-satisfied than I probably deserved but it was almost 10:00am and I had the whole magical world of Yellowstone to myself for a few precious hours. What’s a crust of ice on the windshield when you have that to look forward to?
Susan Silberberg, mile 194,374
