The Eagle Has Landed
Old Faithful kind of sucks. They ought to call it Old Fickle.

August 24, 2001 9:00 a.m.

Still, Old Faithful kind of sucks. Okay — maybe "sucks" is a bit strong (and not quite up to snuff for a web magazine associated with such an illustrious journal). But after waiting 40 minutes for it to go off "any minute now," I'm not sure I can muster a better adjective. They ought to call it Old Fickle.

We had to contend with infuriating traffic and constant road construction to get to Yellowstone, and when we did, Mother Nature was running behind schedule too. Doug and I handled the stress pretty well, but Cosmo cracked. He started talking smack with some Cosmo impersonator, and they went at it.

Look: I know the ancient geological forces at work to make Old Fickle spew a lot of sulfurous water like an angry old man spitting out hot soup at a deli are a marvel. I know that millions of people consider it to be one of God's most glorious thingamajigs. But I still felt like a bit of a sucker waiting there as long as I did. When it went off, it was cool, but it didn't live up to the hype for me.

Meanwhile, the chili dogs at the nearby Geyser Grill were truly excellent. Usually when you get a chili dog, you need to eat a couple to feel like you had a meal. But this thing was extra big, and the chili wasn't soupy at all.

It was my first trip to Yellowstone. Doug's been there a few times, and thinks it's not worth the traffic and 8 million oldsters in their family trucksters stopping to photograph every leaf-chewing elk, when there are so many other less crowded and at least equally beautiful parks. But I have to say, I think Yellowstone is popular for a reason. First of all, it's beautiful (though maybe not as beautiful as, say, Utah's Zion National Park — or Bryce Canyon, where Doug and I stopped on our last roadtrip a few years ago). And second of all, Yellowstone's huge. It's like nature's version of Alan Dershowitz's ego, only pretty and good and well-deserved, rather than ugly and not good and unearned.

And, not to get all Green on you, but it's kind of cool to see that millions of Americans dig this sort of thing. I know most people know that already. Polling data consistently show that Americans identify themselves as environmentalists or "pro-environment," which is why Dick Morris told Clinton he should vacation in places like Yellowstone.

Such support is often taken by hardcore Greens as a sign that "the people" are on their side. And often, politically that's right. But at the same time, these Americans like the environment so that they can appreciate it themselves. That's why the opponents of oil exploration in ANWR compare the coastal plane to Central Park, Yellowstone, and other places where Americans go. They don't go to ANWR. (For my pics of ANWR click here.)

Being "pro-environment" is almost meaningless today. It's like saying you are "pro-child." It's a truism: We're all pro-child and pro-environment (though I have long wanted to mount a campaign to ban the phrase "For the children" from all public-policy debates. In fact, now that I think of it, I'd like to leave some children behind).

In a political context, these phrases are used to close off debate (as "family values" often is as well). Indeed, the Children's Defense Fund was explicitly created to make benign and generic "children" the, well, "poster children" for Lefty welfare programs. It works something like this: You don't want to pay for every child to attend a multicultural preschool? Well, you're not "pro-child" then.

The same holds true for the environment. You don't want every toilet in America to have a mandatory "If it's brown, flush it down; if it's yellow, let it mellow" policy? Well, then you're not pro-environment (and by the way, the enviros at my college used to offer this felicitous phrase at every opportunity). This is how people like Al Gore get away with saying that if you disagree with them on global warming, you're like the people who did nothing to stop the Nazis. That's not an analogy you draw to start a debate, it's the sort of thing you offer to close off a debate you don't want to have.

The reality is that these same Americans who enjoy Yellowstone — mostly in their RVs and SUVs — and who call themselves "pro-environment," are also deeply pragmatic about such things. And environmental pragmatism is increasingly unacceptable in public discourse, because the multi-billion-dollar environmentalist industry needs to constantly scare urban liberals in order to generate revenue. It wasn't long ago, remember, that the Audubon Society permitted oil drilling on its own conservancy lands because it knew the revenues would help it protect the environment more than the drilling would hurt it.

Throughout South Dakota, Wyoming, and a few other places on this blur of a trip, we saw billboards and bumper stickers saying things like, "Animal rights activists go home: Hunting preserves the natural balance." I would bet that the people who wrote these signs are more in touch with the environment than 90% of the "environmentalists" in New York City or L.A. writing checks to the Greens.

Anyway, getting off my soapbox, I suppose I should let you know that I am here in Friday Harbor, Washington. The reason I haven't filed since Monday is that we drove straight from Missoula, Montana to a couple hours' north of Seattle — with a long detour to Glacier National Park, which is stunningly beautiful — without stopping. Okay, we did stop for about 2-1/2 hours at a roadside gas station in the Wenatchee National Forest, to sit out a downpour and sleep until dawn. There are few smells that can compare to the odor of two rain-soaked dudes who haven't showered in 24 hours, and who've been eating health-threatening amounts of beef and buffalo jerky, sleeping in a car with a wet dog. When we opened the door, the air around the car was as distorted as it is in the heat ripples over Death Valley.

So now that I'm here, I have plenty to do to get ready for the wedding. I also have piles more stuff to tell readers about my adventures during the last week. But I simply don't have the time to get into that right now. I hope to file another dispatch before I leave for my honeymoon, but I may not be able to because the future in-laws need me to help out, and I think my first priorities lie elsewhere.

Regardless, I want to thank the literally hundreds of readers who sent tips about places to go and things to do. From the bottom of my jerky-clotted heart, I want to offer my gratitude for your help, and my apologies for not being able to respond to everyone personally. Throughout this trip, my buddy Doug and I had lots of conversations about how cool my readers are. "They're good people," Doug kept saying as we read advice about where to get good steaks, and invitations for free meals. And when, on the advice of one reader, we stopped at M&S Meats in Rollins, Montana, we were literally speechless.

Anyway, thanks again, and remember Cosmo and I have to drive back to D.C. when I get back from my honeymoon. I will be without Doug's help, which was formidable, so any guidance is welcome. I think I will be taking I-70 (with the usual side trips), but I haven't fully made up my mind.

Now on to my most important task: Making the sun come out in time for our outdoor wedding…

Click here for Day 4.