I started blogging to document time I spent traveling alone and filling down time, so it wasn’t on my mind to start writing until I left my travel buddies after Glacier. By that point, I was so in the zone of waking up early and trying to maximize my time in the parks that I didn’t want to make time for writing, at the expense of missing something. It was surprisingly a jam-packed trip, with little down time. I started writing these posts in the airport on the way home.
I’ve traveled with Thomas before. We have been to many Ethical Culture conferences together over the years since high school, and a few years ago did a road trip from DC to Chapel Hill, NC together. We know each other’s quirks, like how he likes to take long stops to take pictures and how I’m a picky eater. That background and friendship made it easy to get along – we can take a more blunt tone with each other since we aren’t trying to figure each other out and adapt. Ryan, on the other hand, I just met on this trip. We were both easy going and flexible and got along very well, but there was a bit of dancing around some things, like how to split checks and the initial discomfort over seeing someone in their PJs for the first time. We got past those things quickly though and the three of us became a good team.
Thomas did a lot of the activity planning for this leg of the trip, even though he told me early on that he wasn’t a natural planner – something he should stop saying because he was very thorough. I was very impressed by his effusiveness in talking to other people, something I like to do but often feel hesitant about at first. On the hike down from Grinnell Glacier, our full-day hike, someone asked to pass us so she could get down to find a ride, and Thomas stopped her to ask some questions and ended up offering her a ride back to East Glacier, over an hour drive away. I would never pick up a hitchhiker alone (and I still can’t wrap my head around how hitchhiking is still a thing out west), but felt very comfortable with Molly after getting to know her on the walk down – she was a seasonal employee at a local hotel, originally from Seattle, and gave us some recommendations on restaurants and hikes. We had a nice chat in the car in the dark (where some of the most open conversations can happen) about career paths and dream jobs.
I’m a borderline extrovert-introvert: I love being around other people and it energizes me, but I also truly value my alone time to recharge. By the last day of being with two other people non-stop, I was eagerly anticipating my alone time. As much as I was sad to say goodbye to my little crew, I drove off in my rental car with a second wave of first-day-of-vacation enthusiasm – the same enthusiasm that had me pacing through the New York and Denver airports on the way there instead of sitting.
By now I’m used to traveling alone and really love it. One of the best things about it – other than controlling your own agenda and pace – is meeting other people and hearing their stories. I learned on this trip that one of the worst activities to do by yourself is to hike through grizzly bear country, so I took advantage of ranger-led hikes and partnering up with strangers along the way. As I was arriving late to a ranger program at the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, I spotted another young woman who was obviously also late for the hike. I said hi and we raced to meet the group together, then split off at the end and continued on a short backcountry hike along the canyon. Lauren was going to nursing school in Connecticut, but had lived in Alaska for a long time and grew up in the Hamptons. She was backpacking in Yellowstone, and we discussed travel experiences and enjoyed the scenery together. Her phone had broken the other night and she was disappointed in not being able to take pictures, so I took one for her and emailed it along. A ranger let her check her email the day before, and she found out she passed her boards to become a nurse and was very excited, but sad that she couldn’t communicate with her family or friends about the news.
In Grand Teton, I departed a ranger hike and opted for a longer walk back to the trailhead, but soon discovered it was pretty empty and I was getting nervous, frequently clapping and saying “hey bear!” as we were taught, so as not to surprise bears. (I was also carrying bear spray – basically pepper spray for bears – so I had some extra security.) A while down the trail I ran into an older woman who had been on my ranger hike. She was very friendly so I decided to walk back with her, since she was also alone and said she was also nervous about being alone. I was also feeling the last week of hiking at that point and my feet were hurting, including an old injury that was flaring up, so having a slow-paced buddy was both good company and a smart pacing tool that I really needed. Ginny was very chatty and we had a nice long walk together. She was 78 years old and loved traveling alone, after divorcing her husband. I told her about the Stonewall riots and then she told me about her gay daughter. We split up toward the end amicably, and a short time later when I walked by the visitor’s center I spotted her sitting on the bench, chatting with some new friends very naturally.
Hearing from the park rangers was one of my favorite things. They are so knowledgeable and excited about their work. From Evan who was passionate about Yellowstone, to Julia who talked to me about climbing, to Grace who talked about her PR degree and wanting to work on making science more digestible to help advance policies.
Just like in real life, not every human interaction is good. A Teton bunkmate named Pat seemed friendly, but then wouldn’t stop discussing the ways in which my suitcase being on the floor against the bed nearly made her kill herself in the middle of the night. I was happy to lift in on a shelf, but was frustrated that the interaction entailed a 10-minute discussion. When I arrived back at night and she was dozing, I intentionally used my flashlight to demonstrate how to properly walk to the bathroom in the dark when you are sharing space with others.
The hostels also brought me some good interactions, like my bunkmate Kate in Yellowstone who was an older woman who had just left her long-distance hike of the Continental Divide early and was disappointed, and a hyper-enthusiastic beer-drinking bro from Toronto who was 6-weeks into his U.S. road trip, and left our conversation early when he invited himself to join a family that was going out stargazing. I saw him eating alone the next night at a café and instead of saying hi I sat literally back to back with him in the next booth, cherishing my quiet meal and time to plan my next day.
I noticed a different demographic at the different parks, though admittedly I had fewer in-depth conversations at Glacier. Yellowstone was massively crowded and drew people from all over the world. A bus driver waiting at a trailhead said rangers get mad at him because his passengers are all Chinese and don’t follow instructions or signs. I think that conversation describes the park the best. Grand Teton seemed to draw more locals – I met a lot of people from other parts of Wyoming and western states.
These were just the longer and more memorable interactions. I haven’t had time to cover the conversation with the old man who had been biking across the country since February, or the Indian couple from Jersey City that was blissfully happy but unprepared hikers.
My time alone – mostly in the car – was spent reflecting on the day or planning my next stop, and not deep thinking. I felt myself using my brain in different ways as I looked up directions or simply enjoyed the scenery. The first time I felt like I truly stopped and was alone with “me time” on this trip was the last night in the hotel. I was thrilled to have the time to repack my suitcase and take a long shower. Again, not thinking too deeply, but enjoying the freedom of it all. Overall, this trip balanced my introvert-extrovert self very well!
travels.of.tara 