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Reader Patricia S. Waring says, “As the years passed and the children grew, campers changed size and shape, but the national parks stayed the same. That’s what makes them special and unique.” (Photo: Kathleen Revis/National Geographic/Getty Images)
From Yellowstone to the Great Smoky Mountains, we gathered your fond memories of exploring America’s glorious landscapes.
The Climb Is Worth It
My husband, Al, and I have always enjoyed hiking, but when we visited Glacier National Park in Montana, we got more than we’d bargained for.
Our vacation took us to Big Sky Country. Our cabin was at the entrance to several hiking trails, and the first morning, we began a hike to Iceberg Lake. I mentioned to Al that we needed to pack some food, but he said that we would be back in time for lunch. I slipped some trail mix into my bag anyway and grabbed a few bottles of water, and we were off on the trail marked Iceberg Lake: 4.9 miles.
The trail initially presented easy walking with just a gradual climb, but it soon became much more difficult. Those 4.9 miles sure seemed a lot longer than walking that same distance around town!
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A stunning view of Glacier National Park in Montana!
At last, we reached our destination, and yes, there was a large iceberg in the middle of the lake in summer. We enjoyed a long rest before it was time to begin the downward journey.
Few hikers had been on the trail when we’d left that morning, but now there were a lot more. “The climb is worth it,” we told several groups.
When we’d hiked in other places, a trail sign showed the mileage for the round trip, but not in this park! We had planned to hike 4.9 miles for the entire trip, but this trek ended up as a whopping 9.8 miles—we were gone seven hours. What a trip to remember!
–Linda Colvin Funk, Nortonville, KS
Invasion of the Copperheads!
My dad is a fisheries biologist, so my childhood was packed with trips to national parks across the country. During one of these trips, on day three of a hike through Great Smoky Mountains National Park, we found what to my 11-year-old brain was the perfect campsite. It was in a valley full of logs and trees and had plenty of room for our two tents. Our group was my mom
and dad, my two sisters, a cousin, and my uncle.
My uncle and I were arranging logs around the campfire when we found a displeased snake. My 16-year-old cousin identified it as a copperhead, so we knew that if we didn’t bother it, it wouldn’t bother us.
Within minutes, we’d spotted a second copperhead, and then another, and another—around 15 snakes in all! We wondered if we were on a migratory path or a nest, or if there was some weird snake dance going on. We thought removal was the best option, and the boys set to work finding Y-shaped branches for flinging the snakes away. But they just kept coming! An hour passed, and then, thankfully, the snakes dwindled to just a few. At bedtime, we huddled up and walked with two flashlights through our snake-infested campsite to the tents. I jumped on my dad’s back, and we were spared.
–Taylor Yess, Winona, MN
Our Favorite Place
I grew up in Southern California, where the mountains and the beach are short drives away. I had joined the Boy Scouts especially to go camping, so I was eager to visit Yosemite when I was 17
years old. I was not prepared for what met my eyes. The first sight to greet me took my breath away. The whole valley opens up before you: El Capitan, Bridalveil Fall, and, in the distance, Half Dome. With my church group, I hiked the trails, swam in and tubed down the snow-fed river, and watched the “fire fall” from Glacier Point.
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My wife, Shirley, and me at the Yosemite tunnel overlook in 1987.
Years later, in 1962, I married my college sweetheart, and we spent our honeymoon in Yosemite that April. We were almost snowed in! We went back many times. I’ve visited lots of our national parks, but my favorite is Yosemite. It was my wife’s favorite place too. We both really enjoyed seeing the beauty of God’s creation.
–Howard Bowman, Duncanville, TX
My Yellowstone Adventure
In 1936, my family took a road trip out west, and one of our stops was Yellowstone National Park. When we pulled up to Old Faithful Inn, Mother pointed out the window at a crowd of people gathered at a railing some distance away, in a meadow opposite the hotel.
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Park goers gather to see the breath-taking Old Faithful. (Photo: Jonathan S. Blair/National Geographic/Getty Images)
She checked her watch. “It’s nearly time. Just keep looking in that direction.”
I stared over at the crowd. Suddenly, steam shot up out of the ground. I heard a loud roar as water hurtled skyward, and I ducked away fast, aiming for Mother’s arms. She said, “Don’t be scared, honey; that’s just Old Faithful. It’s a geyser that goes off like that every hour, and it’s never been known to miss a time. That’s why they call it Old Faithful.”
We were staying in Cabin 19 at the far end of a long row of rough-hewn log structures. As we walked on the path toward the cabin, I saw a bear cub strolling along. Daddy chuckled. We moved faster than the cub, so it was soon behind us. Then we passed a family around a card table in the middle of the path. The table was loaded with food, and everyone seemed jolly. Finally, we arrived at Cabin 19; there was a kerosene lantern on the table, since there was no electricity.
Then I heard a commotion outside. We stepped to the doorway and saw our neighbors emerging from their cabins. Someone pointed over to the next section and hollered, “Bear!”
There was yelling and a crash, and the picnickers came running. “There’s a big bear!” screamed one lady. “Help! Get a ranger!”
We heard that the card table had collapsed, and in the middle of the mess sat the cub, contentedly munching. Next to it sprawled a huge brown bear, also feasting on the snacks. Daddy said he felt dumb for not sounding the alarm when we first spotted the cub!
Excerpted from the author’s memoir, “Remembery.”
–Lee Blattner, Etiwanda, CA