It was a typical spring morning in Wyoming: cool air, light rain, and a steady stream of visitors making their way along the paths of Yellowstone.
And as we walked the boardwalk through the geyser basin, I realized that if you simply watched the people around you, you could create an entire field guide to the national park traveler.
First came the family.
They were dressed for comfort rather than adventure—pajama bottoms, puffy jackets, and teenagers trailing several steps behind their parents. They shuffled along the boardwalk, looking every bit like a family that had been dragged out of a warm hotel room and promised something spectacular at the end of the path.
A little farther down was the quintessential national park couple.
They were dressed head to toe in khaki and olive green. Khaki shorts. Button-down shirts. Baseball caps. Lightweight puffy jackets. Day packs. Hiking shoes.
These two looked ready for a multi-mile backcountry expedition into the wilderness.
They were actually less than 100 yards from the parking lot, walking a wooden boardwalk that looped around the geyser basin.
Then came the groups of Asian tourists, excitedly chattering as they hurried toward Old Faithful. A group of college students wandered by, occasionally glancing at the scenery while simultaneously discussing the latest campus intrigue.
Different people. Different reasons for being there.
But they all had one thing in common: they had gotten outside.
And that’s one of the things I love about national parks.
But if you listen carefully as people walk past, you discover that you’re not just observing nature. You’re observing human nature—and, occasionally, some fascinating travel-planning decisions.
Yellowstone or the Bar in Jackson Hole?
The college students provided my first example.
“Do you want to go to Yellowstone and see Old Faithful?” one asked.
“No,” another replied. “I want to go to that bar in Jackson Hole.”
The first student paused.
“Well, we only have time for one of those activities.”
Fair enough. They were college students.
But these people had traveled all the way to Grand Teton and apparently were debating whether Yellowstone was worth sacrificing a trip to a bar in Jackson Hole.
I suppose every generation has its priorities.
A New Understanding of Refrigerators
Then came a father and daughter.
As they walked past, the young girl announced proudly that she had learned something important during their visit.
“Now I know what that smell is when I open the refrigerator.”
Somewhere, I imagine, her father was very proud of the educational value of the national parks.
Personally, I made a mental note to decline any future dinner invitations at their house.
It’s Only 600 Feet
Not long after that, I overheard a young man reassuring his girlfriend about a hike.
“Yeah, it’s a 600-foot climb,” he explained, “but it’s only 0.3 miles, so it’s easy.”
I suspect there was more to that conversation.
One Hour at the Geyser Basin
Then there was the couple walking past Old Faithful.
“Do you want to stay for the geyser?” the man asked his wife.
“Not really,” she replied. “We only have an hour here.”
An hour.
At the Upper Geyser Basin.
Where there are multiple geysers and thermal features spread across several miles of trails.
I suspect they were part of a tour group with a very ambitious itinerary. The next morning they were scheduled to wake up in Zion. No biggie. It’s only a 10 hour drive.
And Then There Was the Amazon
Every trip has those moments when you hear a sentence so completely unexpected that it stays with you.
On this trip, my favorite was:
“The Amazon is full of cannibals.”
I have absolutely no idea what prompted the comment.
I don’t know what conversation came before it.
I don’t know what conversation followed.
And, frankly, I’m not sure I wanted to know.
The People Are Part of the Experience
Of course, the real reason I love national parks has nothing to do with overheard conversations.
I love watching people discover the outdoors.
Families see their first geyser. Children encounter wildlife. Visitors from halfway around the world stand in awe of landscapes they’ve only seen in photographs. College students discover that there is a world beyond their campus. People who spend most of their days staring at screens suddenly find themselves surrounded by mountains, forests, rivers, wildlife, and geology that has been unfolding for millions of years.
For a few hours, people unplug.
They walk.
They look.
They wonder.
And maybe, just maybe, they return home with a slightly deeper understanding of the natural world.
Of course, there’s always the possibility that someone will also finally clean out their refrigerator.