We woke up to a white out in Bozeman. Not the most auspicious start. Undeterred, we made our way to the park. It being an early season trip, the weather was always going to be a coin flip. Having booked everything (sort of) last minute, my grandfather and I were lucky just to be there. This was his second visit to Yellowstone, my first. He had made his way to the park in the early '80s, when travel from Mexico City to Wyoming was a bit of a logistical nightmare. Forty years of wanting to come back and this wish was finally coming to fruition.
As we drove, the storm abated though the sky remained overcast, visibility was no longer a concern—dramatic landscapes are a given in Montana. But the manner in which the terrain within the park changes was not something I was prepared for.
The effect is amplified when you enter the caldera, also known as the Yellowstone Supervolcano. There is an energy about the place that can be felt and seen at any given time through the various geysers, springs, and thermal vents. It's an almost alien landscape that’s constantly rumbling, gurgling, and shifting.