She chose to sleep on the couch outside our room instead of the room next door. And it was a comfy couch.
Ellie and Alice everywhere, always and forever.
I felt much more at ease after meeting Theron (The-ron) who was our river guide. I'm of the belief that he could navigate that Yellowstone River in his sleep. Which is to say that I felt like we were in good, capable hands. He also made the trip tons of fun with his stories, stunts and jokes. After 8 miles and 2 1/2 hours, each one of us was soaked, but all 8 of us managed to stay in the raft. I most enjoyed the bald eagle and the herd of elk we saw, while the kids raved about surfing the Giant twice, riding bull and playing rodeo. Hands down it was the most popular part of the trip for all 4 of us.
The flotilla sets out down the river.
Forward 2. Forward 2 more. Forward 3.
Theron at the stern.
Teddy riding bull at the bow.
Our first taste of rapids.
Big, refreshing water!
Cartwheeling off a large boulder.
Now Miss Bit is at the bow.
And fearlessly loving it I might add.
I think we have an eddy here otherwise known as THE Giant!
I love the joy on Lily's face in this one.
Lean in! The Giant is not going to win.
Hydraulics are killer!
We're all wet, happy and in the boat after surfing The Giant not once, but twice.
All paddle salute!
Here I am happy for air conditioning and an icy margarita. He is happy for chicken wings.
Next to this placard was a sign suggesting we refrain from all sorts of activities such as submerging our heads in the river. Of course, we didn't read it until we were leaving. Too late!
Racing to the rock. Everything is a competition.
Looks like Miss Bit won this time.
A picture of Mammoth Hot Springs where the water reaches temperatures of 163 degrees. The run-off is what creates the hot, sometimes near boiling pockets in the river, hence The Boiling River.
More cumbersome than the variations of hot and cold are the many sharp and slippery rocks in the river bed.
Not for the tender footed.
Lily had such fun allowing herself to be carried down the cold river by the very strong current and then beating her way back up sometimes with her dad's help.
Ted preferred to float in the warm pockets.
Over time, swimmers build ledges to lounge on (or to keep from being carried away) with the bigger rocks.
It was so peaceful despite the fact we were not alone. There were probably 50 people along the river any given time. The next day as we passed, we saw a small herd of elk standing in the river much closer than 100 yards from the swimmers. No thank you.
The gloaming at The Boiling River.