The rugged emptiness and black lava fields in this area of Idaho are hard to describe: but “desolate weird” comes to mind.
I had survived a torrential thunderstorm motorcycling through the Beartooth Mountains in Montana the night before and the downpour had stopped early in the morning before I geared up and headed into Yellowstone National Park, in Wyoming. The drenched earth, exceptionally clean air, mist flowing amidst the trees, passing clouds and natural grandeur coalesced into an enchanting moment.
This image epitomizes a personal Zen moment and represents more than a picture, to me. It was an experience of inspired simplicity woven against a backdrop of moody Mother Nature, as I arrived in Yellowstone National Park, having passed through the most challenging storm I had encountered on this particular 30-day, coast-to-coast, motorcycle tour.