Camping Bliss Yellowstone

Gibbon River
June

Once off the mountain, I found a campsite close to the overflow of the
Gibbon River. I walked my bike back into the woods, and after I set up
my camp, I found out that I wasn't alone. It seemed I had picked a
campsite right in the middle of a big cow elk's favorite stomping
grounds. When she would come within twenty or thirty feet from where I
was sitting, she would raise her head, sniff the air, and then go back
to grazing. The highlight of the evening came when I went down to the
stream to wash my dishes.The elk followed me to the stream where I climbed down the embankment to get water. When I looked up from cleaning my pots and pans, I
almost touched noses with her. I didn't move. I just stared into those
big cow eyes. When I did move, it was very slowly up the hill. The elk
backed off, and when I reached the top of the hill, the elk continued
to follow me back to camp. After the adrenalin rush wore off, I sat
under my mosquito netting and silently viewed the last of the twilight
slip away. The elk seemed to lose interest in me, but she never
wandered far. In fact, in the dark, I couldn't see what was making
noises. I would stare hard, and then I would see the dull white tail
of the elk moving about me. I finally reconciled the elk as my
protectorate and went to sleep.

I have spent the last couple of days alone in the wilderness and I
feel much closer to nature because of it. I'm beginning to get a sense
of "being part of integral an plan," but I can't describe it, I can
only feel it. Maybe someday I will be able to describe that feeling; I
hope so.