Sometimes the worst kind of danger is the kind in plain sight.
Trekking through Yellowstone National Park, we were well aware of the wild animals--the bison and the elk and the bear and even the wolves who lived all around us.
I knew, for example, that by the mid-1900's the wolves who lived in Yellowstone had been killed. In the 1940's park managers, biologists, and conservationists campaigned to reintroduce the wolf back into the park. The Endangered Species Act of 1973 was passed, and in 1995, gray wolves came home, but it was a rocky homecoming.
Years ago, I remember hearing the howl of a wolf as I walked through the park. Nowadays, to even see a wolf you need to use a high powered telescope at dusk, and you need to know where to look. Believe me, you don't want a close encounter with a wolf.
Bears also are more difficult to spot. Occasionally, with good binoculars, you can see a bear foraging for food. If you're lucky.
But you need to be safe. Stay clear of the wild animals.
Imagine, now, a different kind of danger. What makes Yellowstone so unique is the plethora of mud pots, fumaroles and geysers that are scattered throughout the magnificent landscape. Lying in wait for the unsuspecting visitor or rascal cat.
What exactly is a geyser? It's a hot spring that contains boiling water. Ouch. It's so hot, the water gushes upwards. The force generated by the heat produces this torrent of boiling water and steam that shoots up hundreds of feet.
Sometimes you hear gurgling as a warning before the water shoots upwards. Other times, the water explodes with no warning.
Sometimes geysers follow a schedule like Old Faithful. Another favorite is Castle Geyser who shoots off killer jets of water on a regular basis:
Other geysers follow their own internal time clock.
You get lulled into thinking you're safe as you stroll past these geysers who seem dormant to the naked eye. They're not gurgling. There's no steam. You barely stop to take a closer look or give them a passing glance.
Every geyser in the park has a name, but one in particular--not a very memorable one--I'll call "Chucky's Geyser."
For once, Chuck was being a good kid. Not the usual rascally cat he can be. He was walking along beside us, on the boardwalk--the safe zone--as far as I was concerned. Nothing much was happening.
We rounded the corner. A woman came towards us with her dog. A white dog wearing a greenish-yellow collar. Well, this very cute dog barked--not a friendly "hello" type of bark, but a more "what are you doing on this boardwalk" bark.
Chucky stood his ground.
The dog growled.
Chucky has a meow, but it's a disappointing meow. He was short-changed in the meow department. I suspect that's the reason why he didn't respond back. Instead, he leapt off the boardwalk, away from the barking dog, and hightailed it in the direction of the dormant geyser.
Or, let me rephrase . . . in the direction of the geyser we thought was dormant.
It wasn't. A cloud of steam suddenly appeared, swirling around the mouth of the geyser. It was as if Chucky's jump on the ground acted as weight on a lever that turned that darned geyser on.
I unhelpfully called, "Get him before the whole thing blows."
Much ado about nothing. That was our assessment later.
Dan scooped Chuck up and brought him back. Meanwhile, the barking/growling dog was so startled by the eruption of the geyser, that not another bark or growl came out.
It could have been a terrible, horrible disaster, with boiling water, laced with acid, raining down on top of Chuck and Dan, but it wasn't. Instead by the time water shot out after the steam, hero and cat were back on the boardwalk. We stayed for a few more minutes and watched the amazing show that only nature can provide.
"Chucky's Baby Geyser," I said finally.
"Aptly named," Dan agreed.
"You know, if that dog hadn't barked and Chucky hadn't jumped down in protest, we would have missed it."
We turned to admire Chuck, our almost hero cat, only to discover that he wasn't looking at the geyser. Oh, no. He was looking in the opposite direction. It turns out that the barking dog was a girl dog. Chuck was now in the process of making eyes at this girl dog with the lovely collar and she was making eyes back at him. Love was in the air. Go figure.
