Yellowstone: Geysers, Ghost Bison & Horsing Around

There’s nothing quite like entering Yellowstone National Park and being greeted by the raw power of Old Faithful letting off some steam—literally. She put on a perfectly timed show, erupting like clockwork as tourists (us included) stood around nervously clutching cell phone cameras. Humans were amazed. Wildlife not so much. 🐿️

After the show, we wandered the nearby village, soaked in the scenery, and even bought an over-priced souvenir or two (because who doesn’t need huckleberry soda and a magnet shaped like a geyser?). We spent the entire day in the park marveling at its beauty, but somehow managed to pull off the impossible: not a single bison sighting. That’s right. Nada. Zero. Zilch. We began to question if they were all on a union break.

We did, however, see plenty of signs warning us about bison. Signs that said things like “Don’t approach the wildlife” and “Bison are not your friends”—which felt slightly rude considering we weren’t even given the chance to be rejected by one. But fear not, our bison (and bonus antelope) redemption came a few days later. Stay tuned for that plot twist.

For our stay, we were parked at Red Rock RV Resort, just 20 miles from Yellowstone’s west entrance. Tucked into a picturesque valley surrounded by mountains, this spot was a dream. Bonus points for having a special Airstream-only area with extra amenities. We didn’t stay in the Airstream portion of the park, but dropped by for a friendly hello.

And then there was the trail ride. Oh, the trail ride. We signed up for a 2-hour evening horseback adventure that turned out to be pure magic. Even Joel, who usually prefers his horsepower in vehicle form, saddled up! We were told that my horse and Joel’s horse were besties, which might explain why they stayed glued together like middle schoolers on a field trip. We rode through winding trails, splashy streams, and around a serene lake—pretending to be outdoorsy types while secretly just trying not to fall off or sacrifice a phone to the wilderness.

All in all, our Yellowstone adventure was everything we hoped for—minus, you know, the actual bison. But we like to think they were just playing hard to get.

Stay tuned, because the bison will make an appearance…eventually.

Mining Towns & Mozzarella: Our Journey from Seattle to Yellowstone

We packed up in Seattle with a freshly replenished supply of Rainier cherries—nature’s candy and now our favorite road trip essential. The weather was perfect, and the truck had just gotten a fresh tire rotation, oil and fluids change, ready to take on the Cascade Mountains with Mosey III’s big ol’ backside trailing faithfully behind.

Our weekend stop in Coeur d’Alene was the perfect mid-journey reset. Picture sparkling lake views, forested backdrops, and a town so charming it made us seriously consider buying matching paddleboards and fully committing to a lifestyle of flannel, log furniture and Saturday kayaking. We didn’t (yet), but we did stretch our legs, breathe in that alpine air, and momentarily forget what day it was. 

Butte, Montana: We Dig It (Literally)

From there, we rolled into Butte, MT—home of the World Museum of Mining, and I am a bit surprised when I tell you it was better than we expected. Built on the site of a former copper mine, this museum is equal parts history, grit, and “what did they use THAT for?!” It has a massive old mine shaft, rusty mining equipment that looks like it belongs in a steampunk music video, and an impressively detailed Old West town that makes you feel like you’re in a Clint Eastwood movie… if Clint carried a selfie stick and a sensible sun hat.

We climbed to the top of the headframe (the giant mine elevator tower thingy) for a panoramic view. Worth it. Not just for the scenery, but for the bragging rights. We now refer to it as “that time we basically scaled a mountain, but with handrails.” 

Virginia City/Nevada City: Cowboys, Parking Perils, and Pizza Perfume

Next stop: Virginia City and Nevada City—real, living Old West towns where history and modern life shake hands over a good slice of pizza. We had just intended to walk through town and maybe grab a cold drink, but the smell of roasted garlic and hot, bubbly cheese hit us like a cartoon smoke cloud with arms. It literally pulled us off the boardwalk and into a saloon-style pizzeria where we made short work of a pizza pie and drooled over huckleberry ice cream floats.  While enjoying our meal we half expect someone to burst through swinging saloon doors yelling, “There’s gold in them thar hills!”

RV Life: Winding Roads and Parking Woes

Now let’s take a moment to talk about driving a 25-foot Airstream plus a tow vehicle through winding mountain roads. It’s kind of like playing slow-motion Grand Theft Auto while steering a parade float through a maze. Every curve—especially the ones where someone decides to pass on a blind corner—feels like a trust fall with gravity. And every successful parking attempt? A small but deeply satisfying triumph, like parallel parking a whale… in front of an audience.

Backing the Airstream into tight parking spots has become a couples’ sport—equal parts communication exercise and public performance art. There were hand signals. There was shouting. There may have been applause from casual observers when we nailed it on the third (or maybe fourth) try.

Next Destination: Red Rock RV Park—Just Outside Yellowstone

We’ve now landed at Red Rock RV Park, nestled in a beautiful valley just outside the west entrance of Yellowstone National Park. We’re surrounded by wildflowers, mountain air, and the gentle hum of other travelers trying to remember if they packed bear spray or just more granola bars.

Next up: Yellowstone, where geysers shoot sky-high, wildlife roams free, and we do our best to keep Millie from making friends with a bison. It’s going to be explosive—in the best way.

Until next time, keep following the Silver Lining—preferably with a decent cell signal, a GPS that doesn’t think gravel goat paths are scenic shortcuts, and someone patient enough to help you back into a campsite that was clearly designed for a tent.