My Yellowstone experience was spending a fortune to pitch a tent on a concrete pad in a wasteland (I had never paid to camp prior to that). Then needing something to roast marshmallows with I plucked a small twig that was broken and dangling from a small tree. A psycho in a golf cart yelled at me and said he was calling the federal police to arrest me; and that they don't mess around with the rules concerning the plucking of small broken twigs from pathetic trees that are sparsely interspersed around the gravel and concrete "campsites".
Then I saw dead pools of water, mostly desert, neat waterfalls where hoards of people gather, some wildlife, fire ants galore, and an unfaithful geyser. People just park their cars in the middle of the road, as if utilizing the single lane for travel is optional.
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