It’s now 8:30; an hour ago, I was outside watching the dawn arrive. The beginning of the day looked promising, with some thin clouds stained with a faint magenta and red against a clear sky, grabbing the first light. Now we sit in the Map Room here at Mammoth Hot Springs, awaiting this minute. The coach has pulled up, but we’ll sit here until the last second until the driver enters the building. The heaviness of leaving weighs down my ability to spring into action and deliver our bags to the curb.

In five minutes, we will pass through the Roosevelt Gate at the northern entrance of Yellowstone National Park, bringing an end to our physical presence in the park, but Yellowstone is firmly entrenched within us. We leave silently, kicking and screaming.

A sad goodbye with a tearful but joyous heart breaks with the landscape as we try to drag our little piece of experience we have gleaned from Yellowstone. As we depart, we should recognize the efforts that have gone into making this a worldwide loved destination, starting with John Colter, who first told the stories of this magical place from his visit during the winter of 1807-1808 and inspired others to follow; Nathaniel Pitt Langford who, following the Washburn Expedition of 1870 and his own written experiences of his encounter with Yellowstone, went on to lecture across America and finally lobbied Congress for the legislation to make Yellowstone our first National Park; President Ulysses S. Grant who signed the bill into law that created this National Park on March 1, 1872, the Interior Department, the National Park Service, and all of our tax dollars that work to preserve this corner of America.

U.S. Route 89 north takes us further away, and for the first time in more than a week, we are traveling faster than 25 miles per hour. We pass Gardiner, Chico Hot Springs, Emigrant, Pray, and Pine Creek. In Livingston, we join Interstate 90 going west. Our destination, the Bozeman Airport, is approached in a minute, and not a minute later, we are unloaded and in the terminal – the convenience of small airports. We were able to grab an earlier flight still leaving enough time for a quick lunch.

Over America. In America. How lucky we are to know this country firsthand. During the past twelve months, Caroline and I have driven the Skyline Drive through the Shenandoah National Park in Virginia and visited Jamestown and Williamsburg. Toured the Whitehouse, Mount Vernon, and Monticello. In Washington, D.C., we finally made it to the top of the Washington Monument; we visited the Smithsonian Museum of the American Indian, took a tour of the U.S. Capitol, and a nighttime tour of the U.S. Naval Observatory. In New York City, over two visits, we walked through Central Park, Wall Street, Little Italy, China Town, and Greenwich Village, crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, and went to the top of the Empire State Building – we also stood in the crown of the Statue of Liberty. We rode the Maid of the Mist in Niagara Falls and an Amish horse-drawn buggy in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. In Philadelphia, we visited Constitution Hall, the Liberty Bell, and the home of Edgar Allen Poe. In Baltimore, we toured Fort McHenry, where the original Stars & Stripes once flew, which inspired the Star-Spangled Banner. Historic Gettysburg was easy to fall in love with. A year without the Grand Canyon wouldn’t have been a good year. Old Route 66 with a return to Oatman, Arizona, and the wild donkeys was great. In California, we ate at the Fish Market in San Pedro; on another visit, we had fun at Disneyland and caught a movie in Hollywood. The fourth of July was spent riding the Cumbres Toltec Steam Train with one of the best fireworks shows ever right there in Chama, New Mexico. In Florida, we strode through the Everglades, kayaked the Keys, and camped on the remote Dry Tortugas. And now Yellowstone. To see and know America, one must get out of the clouds, put oneself on the trail and small roads, gaze up to the heights of the mountains, look out on the horizon of the seas, feel the wind blow on the Great Plains, get lost looking into a canyon, and spend time getting to know this land so few take the time to see and experience.