09/02/2020
Yellowstone—Where Old People Go to Die?
By Carol Middlekauff
Yellowstone National Park – As I arrived at the top of the stairs, panting for air, hoping my leg muscles would stop burning soon, a woman gasped to me, "Now I know why my kids say that Yellowstone is where old people go to die."
I wondered why she was telling me this. I'm over 55, but not that old, and she was even younger, maybe 45. We had both made it up the stairs. And we didn't die.
"At least we won't have to pay a doctor for a stress test," she added between breaths. "We've already passed one."
Indeed, conquering the steps on Uncle Tom's Trail had been no small feat. The stairs went straight down the side of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, right to the base of the Lower Falls. As we started down we had been warned by a sign: "There are 328 steps, and the elevation is 8,000 feet. People with heart or breathing conditions should not attempt this climb."
I suppose the warning for those with heart and breathing conditions was mostly about the climb back up the 328 stairs, but my heart was in my throat on the way down. It didn't matter that the metal steps were solid, and solidly fastened to the cliff. What mattered was that I could see right through their iron grating. But I convinced myself that I was going to the bottom of that waterfall. And, by golly, one step after another, after another, after another, I did.
An option, an obligation, and knees
Then it was one of those option/obligation things. You have the option to go down the steps, and if you take it, you have the obligation to climb back up. Unless, of course, you want to have the rescue guys come and make a spectacle of you.
But, if we've been jogging or riding bikes regularly, the part of the stairs that could kill us "old" people might not be the breathing thing. It might be a knees thing. My knees, which have a lot of miles on them, have been known to object to even small numbers of stairs, but I convinced myself I was going up.
And I did. One step after another, after another, after another. Along the way, there were benches on every landing, filled with folks of all ages and nationalities, who were catching their breath, counting the steps out loud.
I have to say that the trip, all the way down those stairs, and all the way back up, was definitely worth the effort. While the Lower Falls, which almost anyone can see from viewing areas with names like "Artist Point" and "Inspiration Point,” are in the silent distance, the Lower Falls at the bottom of the steps of Uncle Tom’s Trail stir all the senses, dashing down the 308-foot cliff with a palpable thunder, splashing cool mist on everyone.
Full of wonderful things
Actually, when you think about it, Yellowstone is crammed full of wonderful things that us "old" people might die from. Another trail, only slightly less strenuous, starts at Lookout Point on the other side of the canyon and, using steep switchbacks and boardwalks instead of stairs, reaches Red Rock Point, a spot maybe two football fields down the Yellowstone River from the base of the Lower Falls. Or they can take the slanted path down dusty switchbacks to the misty bottom of 132-foot Tower Fall. The breathtaking proximity to each of these rainbow-wrapped shafts of water is well worth the heart-pounding, breathless climb back up.
More risky business
Steps and paved paths that are not nearly as long or steep lead right to the brinks of both the Lower Falls and the 109-foot Upper Falls. The risky business there is that standing right at the top of the falls, watching the huge volume of blue-green water plunge over those cliffs, has such a dizzying effect that, without those all-important railings, hundreds of old tourists might drop right into the canyon.
During the crowded summertime, if the old folks dally around West Yellowstone, Jackson or Cody, eating a leisurely breakfast, waiting until 10 a.m. to enter the park, they might die of impatience, waiting in a long line at an entrance gate.
Meanwhile, others who got up at six, grabbed a few bagels, and headed straight for Yellowstone, or who stayed in one of 2,175 hotel rooms and cabins right in the park, were cruising the 142-mile, figure-eight road that circles the scenic wonders of the park well ahead of most of the others. The early visitors also saw more bison, elk, deer, and other critters, which usually move from riverside meadows to higher hillsides in the first few hours of daylight.
The other way to miss the traffic and crowds is for the white-haired set to head for Yellowstone in the fall, winter, or spring, when they will find unharried animals hanging out right beside the roads.
In a foot race, the animal always wins
But that leads us to another life-threatening danger. If they climb out of their cars to get that perfect, close-up photo of an elk, bison or even a bear with their silver-haired spouses, our old folks might find themselves in a running match they can't win – even if they have been jogging and riding bikes regularly. It seems that the animals, though they may look innocent enough, can be moody, and have been known to move unbelievably fast, causing severe damage to tourists, old and young, who leave the safety of their cars.
Too much excitement
Some of us who qualify for AARP might even be done in by the excitement when Old Faithful goes off. These days it goes off every 90 minutes (give or take 10 minutes). The longer it takes between eruptions—with numerous sputtering and fuming false starts—the higher it goes when it finally blows. On a busy day—say the 4th of July—thousands of men, women, kids, and babies wait on the boardwalk surrounding Old Faithful for what seems like forever. Then, in unison, they gasp with amazement when, with a deep rumbling sound, the geyser finally blasts its load of hot water and steam almost 200 feet in the air.
At least one crazy in every crowd
I suppose some old people might be in jeopardy if they yell, "get down from there," when a 20-something man (who is certainly old enough to know better) jumps over the railings of a boardwalk and scrambles across beautiful and fragile white lime deposits to the top of Mammoth Hot Springs to test the water temperature. My 50-something husband certainly thought his time might be up when I yelled. But I'm happy to say that the crazy young man was not crazy enough to get in a fight with my husband. I'm also glad he didn't break through the formation and end up face down in a steaming pool, forcing us to call the rescue guys.
Keep an eye on the road and look out for spars
Some of us seniors might even end up down-side-up in a roadside ditch, river, or even a canyon, if the driver’s attention wanders from the curving yellow stripe on the road to views of mountains, rivers, geyser basins or critters. Thank goodness the thoughtful road builders included plenty of turnouts for distracted drivers and for those who, like me, insist that their dutiful husbands stop for every possible photo opportunity.
But if they venture from their cars onto the wrong path, they might even be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time when one of the silver spars left over from the 1988 wildfires succumbs to a gust of wind, or gravity, and crashes to the ground. Good news, most of those spars have already fallen to the ground, where thousands of ten-foot saplings and millions of mid-summer wildflowers thrive.
Yes, Yellowstone is full of wonderful things that "old" people might die from, but though the park seems very close to heaven, most of them don't die. Most of us senior visitors wisely know our limits. This national park, the nation's first, perceptively set aside for all of us in 1872, is, however, an extraordinary part of God’s creation that everyone should experience before they die.
Free-lance travel writer Carol Middlekauff currently lives in Austin, Tex.
