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Grand Prismatic Spring is blindingly brilliant – and stomach-churningly stinky .
to sagebrush-and-juniper-clad hills was spectacular . Ignoring the handful of fellow tourists nearby , I leaned back against a rock , raised my face to warm sunlight and soaked until my skin pruned .
After my soak , I rode up to the Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel to find myself in the midst of a genuine elk jam . A huge bull elk , antler rack splendidly displayed , urged his harem of 20 cows across the hotel lawn . Park rangers used cones and megaphones to move people out of their way . I watched the show from the window of the restaurant where I used to work . The bull elk was larger than my motorcycle , and I figured it was even odds whether I could actually outrun him . Especially if he was protecting 20 girlfriends . Exiting the building at the rear , I cut behind the old boy ’ s dorm , rolled the dice and made a successful dash for my bike .
Temperatures dipped below freezing at Indian Creek , the campground where I stayed that night . In the morning I was thankful for the BMW ’ s heated handgrips as I made the ride on a gorgeous curving road past lakes and mountains to beat the tour buses to the Norris Geyser Basin .