off and rode down to a rivers edge. I
rinsed what I could free from my gear
and splashed the cool water over my
face. The helmet visor was complete-
ly ruined, small scratches and a light
film obscured my view. With nothing
else that could be done, I resumed my
hunt for a campsite for the night fur-
ther deep within Yellowstone National
Park.
Rain easing overnight, the sun
peered through scattered cloud. Drop-
lets of condensation accumulated on
the tents interior. Flicking back the
nylon door, dew clasped to my hand
sending cool shivers down to my toes,
still within the warmth of my down
sleeping bag. Plumes of moisture
swirled from my mouth, in the frigid
air, with each breath. Mavis leaned
TRAVERSE 42