We rose to the crisp yet dull morning light of a new dawn. The nymphs greeted us as we drew water from their river, rising as ghostly apparitions from the marbled surface of the Madison River. A short breaking of fast consisted of bagels from the previous town baker and a spread of marmalade.
We set out southbound along the banks of the Madison, swatting flying beasties as we slowed to observe Jim Bridger's pass over the divide of the continent. A great earthquake had unlodged a heap of rock into the riverbed, forming Earthquake Lake which now spread over the burnt trees of yesteryear. We toiled up the banks of the river slowly but with gusto.
A small ration of bread satiated us at the banks of the greater lake above the dam that had been built to keep the wild spirits of the river in check, shackled as they were by the crushing invasion of humans. I imagine prior to this they danced free, inviting Bacchus and his nyads to luxuriate along the river banks. Humanity's domination over the natural can squelch the free spirits of nature.
A black cloud poured its rain over the village of West Yellowstone, and we retreated to the library of an elven race who pressed the beans of a caffeinated fruit into a dark, black liquid that refreshed our spirits as the sky fell down in tiny droplets before us.. We sat for several hours waiting for the pressing weather to relent. Meanwhile, a troubadour with a luxurious mustache and a wide-brimmed hat drove through town advertising a "rodeo" in which humans subdued bovines by means of equine transport, blaring his advertisement of the spectacle loudly. People from many nations gathered on the streets to prepare for the venture into the wildlands known as Yellowstone.
We halted at the gate of the fabled land as a minotaur challenged our approach. He asked us for the gold we carried in our pouches for the right to enter his lands, and we gladly obliged him, for everyone knows that a minotaur is not someone to be trifled with. When a creature with the body of a man and the head of a bison asks for your treasure, you hand it over in fear of the consequences that might otherwise befall you.
We also observed natural bison on the banks of the river Madison grazing the fine green shoots along its shore, protectively guarding their young.
Metallic balrogs from states far and wide whirled past us, nearly catching us with the swing of their tails, and yet our savvy and careful attention spared us the cruel smack of perdition that could have been our bane.
We encamped in an enchanted forest where dwarvish folk charged us dearly from the reserves in our pouches, and yet this was preferable to the notion of spending the night in the wilds where great bears roam free. In the dwarvish village there are rings for your fires and boxes to store your scented possessions where the fearsome beasts cannot steal your morsels away.
We sleep now in an enchanted sleep, one that restores the spirits of those who lie under the spell of the magic of the yellow stone.
[with apologies to all of the fantasy writers that have shaped my young mind]
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