West
Yellowstone, Montana: gateway to the world’s oldest national park,
a tourist
town in every sense of the word during the summer.
In
the winter the place is almost deserted.
Snow falls heavy and deep.
You
are as likely to see a snowmobile going down the street as a car.
Thanksgiving
weekend the town fills with skinny people on skinny skis.
It is the Yellowstone Ski Festival.
Skiers
dress in classy matching team outfits….
…or
not.
On
the other side of town things are a little less manic.
Instead of skiers putting down their heads
and going like a bat out of hell,
there are people on snowshoes and families on
cross-country skis meandering.
People
like me.
I’m
taking photos of ice,
Mother
and daughter snow angels,
A
ski trail that freaks me out a little.
Ever since “Wizard of Oz” I’ve been spooked by long green halls.
A condition made worse by “The Shining.”
Scenic
views of Yellowstone
Park in the winter,
Out
of nowhere I see dark clouds boiling over the mountains toward me.
I do a quick u-turn.
I put my
head down and go like a bat out of hell back to town.
What the guys were doing while I was skiing.
What the guys were doing while I was skiing.