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Morning at Old Faithful Inn
by Terry Brinkman



On a break from school in late September, 1968 or maybe it was 1967. As usual I woke up before dawn, not wanting to stay in my room, I go down two flights of old half log stairs to the Lobby.

I stop at the old stone drinking fountain for a sip of water. After my drink I pause to look up at the Cob-web of wood with logs going every which way. I later learn the twists and turn in the logs were a cause and effect on the trees from drinking the geyser’s water. I made my way to the Rocking Chair in front of the Rhyolite Rock Fireplace. Take off my coat and sit down the fire was already going. This time of year it’s always cool in the morning. A smile comes to my face knowing myself and a few workers were the only ones enjoying the fire’s warmth and crackle and popping.

The Giant Black Cast Iron Clocking was taunting me. Only Five Fourteen, watching the clock the hand was moving so slowly; like one of my favored movies “Twelve O Clock High”.

Nothing open, I can’t get coffee, I need to get up and pull on my parka.  Walking Past the Bear’s Pit (where I was drinking beer with Dan until they closed last night) I could see a skiff of snow on the walkway.

Leaving from the front door Old Faithful was a right turn and a couple hundred yards. With no idea what time Old Faithful was going to erupt I walk towards Old Faithful. As I drew close enough to see the Old Faithful I saw the small spurts of water starting and stopping - a sure sign the eruption was soon.

I watch the Full Moon setting as I wait for the Eruption. When the moon completes its setting, the stars seem to dance across the sky, so bright, no longer competing with the moon. Watching the stars my Old Faithful notice was the sound of the boiling water eruption. My Eyes Dropped and I watched until Old Faithful was done.

The Pre-dawn cold just hit me,  I am going back to the lodge see if I can get a cup of coffee now.




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