Much the same as John Steinbeck, I am in love with Montana. It’s rolling green slopes, towering mountain peaks, and frightening valley depths are a far cry from the clay red and rocky desolateness of the badlands. But my love for this land does not spring from the shape of its beauty, but rather the uniqueness of its character, and there is not another place we have visited on our travels, or indeed in the remaining part of the world, that was arranged with such careful complexity and genuine imagination as the heart of Montana’s beauty: Yellowstone.
I was not surprised at the landscape Yellowstone had to offer us by any degree; I expected to find great beauty and found precisely that. But I will be the first to admit that I was not altogether prepared for the vastness of its majesty. As we made our way to our campsite by way of a meandering mountainous road I could just piece together the true grandeur of the landscape in the brief moments the mountains would open up to reveal it to me.
Never before in my life have I seen such magnificence, and never again can I hope to be as content.
D Faust
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