ah yes, Act II of the Soap Opera...that came on the evening of the second day. I returned to camp to find great disgruntlement. the guilty bottle of the previous night's soap incident had leaked again. the situation was complicated by the presence of hordes of mosquitoes and the necessity of excluding them from the tent and car.
the first night's rest was fragmentary for several reasons, chief among them being Bethany's decision to "rough it" and forgo the usual pad under the sleeping bag.
Night 2 [near Jackson Hole, WY] I was awakened by simultaneously feeling rain on my face, and hearing my dad scrabbling about to deal with it. we had neglected to put the rain fly on the tent. that occupied about half an hour or so and sounded very difficult. I scarcely felt guilty at all about remaining snugly in my sleeping bag. when he climbed back into the tent i heard birds beginning to chirp [this was at about 4 am] and he said "tweet-tweet", and then, after a pause to allow me to digest this, "chirp-chirp".
it was a scant few hours after this diverting escapade that we were roused from a woozy slumber by my mom. the rain had stopped and we packed up swiftly. we only left camp after a swift game of "count-the-dead-beetles-in-the-tent".
the campground was plastered with warning signs--"Be Bear Aware" and 37 Qwik Tips on how not to leave food out in the campsite. I made it very clear from the outset that " I do not want to be Bear Aware!", but I was nevertheless the model of prudence in this regard!
that was the day we first sighted a bison. my dad, who was eating cashews at the time, addressed the worthy critter from a safe distance--"Here boy! Ever had a cashew?"
in Yellowstone, we encountered a frightful lot of road work and dreadful delays.
scenery was very good.
Me: "Lewis River Canyon! we're pretty high up here!"
Daddy [driving]: anything visible?
Mommy [riding shotgun, right next to the precipice]: YES stay on the road please!
later that evening my dad returned to the campsite from firewood-gathering. he came up with a load of wood in his arms, and trailing a piece of string. I watched, and waited for the end to appear; it did not. by that time he had discovered the trailing string, and there was a very substantial length behind him; about 50 feet ,to be exact. Instant hilarity.
must sign off now. alas, i fear i shall not be able to write again unless we are fortunate enough to get another good hotel...