Some call Yellowstone one of the most beautiful places in the world, with its lush green valleys, hot steaming Old Faithful, and powerful roaring waterfalls. I just thought it had putrid smelly geysers, hulking smelly buffalo, and over-priced smelly restaurants. Well, maybe not that last one, but the point is that camping there was not the best experience of my life.

My sister, Sallie, thought it would be fun to go to Yellowstone. She was working with AmeriCorp (Peace Corp in America) and had been living in Wyoming, and my other sister, Mary, and I were visiting. You know that annoying tourist that takes pictures of everything, stops at every insignificant historical marker, bothers locals, and is generally irritating? That is my beloved sister Sallie.

When we arrived at Yellowstone we were driving precariously close to the side of a cliff. "Who designed these roads!?" I screamed, glaring at the tiny metal rail between me and certain death.

"The mountains were here first." explained Sallie as if to a toddler. I scoffed and widened my eyes when I saw a sea of snorting buffalo.

"Ta-tunga." Mary mimicked from the movie Dancing with Wolves. We almost pass the buffalo when one of the bison steps on the road in front of us and all traffic stops. That is when I smell it. 'Has something died?' I thought, but no, I realize in growing horror that it is the buffalo. Although it is not politically correct I understand in that moment why they killed the buffalo. After all, how could they smell worse dead. The musky stink reeks more than a skunk and roadkill put together. Luckily the funky buffalo moved on and we drove away quickly.

That night we put up our tiny tent. The evening was still and freezing, there was no breeze. Then the sounds of unknown animals made the darkness seem less empty. We all huddled in the tent, shivering, and tried to go to sleep with chattering teeth. The chill of night crept into the sheets and the ground was hard as a rock (and I was probably on several). Why didn't Sallie remember an air mattress or comforters!? I couldn't sleep because I was afraid a bear would come and eat us. I scowled over to where I knew Sallie was sleeping, 'Note to self: NEVER go on a trip with Sallie again.' When I forgot the next year and had a trip to San Antonio, I ended up in a car crash, setting up a tent in a downpour, and getting frozen all over again. But at least I didn't have to worry about getting eaten by a bear. And I ate spicy chile tacos. Mmmm, tacos.

Authors Note: This was for english class! If you would like to know more about the San Antonio trip please read 'Mecca' found at my profile.