Well, our first adventure this month was going to Yellowstone. Even though I've been going to school in Rexburg for 4 years, I have never been to Yellowstone. We went on a Saturday with great aspirations. We drove two and a half hours to get to Old Faithful, because apparently everyone needs to see that. We got there and it started raining, so we ate our picnic in the drizzle, which wasn't terrible. Then Shaun went to the car to get me the umbrella, and we ended up missing Old Faithful by four minutes. No problem, right? We'll just walk around for ninety minutes until the next one. We started walking down this paved road and I could see a lot of buffalo on the side of the path, and they had little babies with them. We kept walking closer and closer until we were about 100 yards from them. And then it happened. I felt something warm and gross on my right foot. I looked down, and what are the odds that my entire moccasin was submerged in buffalo crap? Yeah. Gross. I did not react well. In fact, I was whining and trying not to throw up while attempting to wipe off my shoe, but there was no hope. So I'm hopping up and down on the path and freaking out and Shaun is just standing there laughing. I was getting so upset, and Shaun was trying not to laugh really hard, but he just couldn't help it. Then it started raining harder and we could hear thunder. Apparently, so could the buffalo that were getting closer and closer to us. In my trauma, I hadn't noticed that the path we were standing on was actually directly in the middle of the herd. They started snorting and trotting towards us, either to protect their little babies or to get out of the rain. You can say they weren't even focused on us at all, but when there's a buffalo that's bigger than the car you drove to get there and it's 20 yards from your face, you get a little scared. Or a lot scared. So it's raining really hard by that point, I'm surrounded by menacing buffalo, and I'm hopping on one foot. It was awful. And then we left. The outdoors are so great.
For the fourth of July, Shaun's family has this tradition. Some may think it's kind of strange, but they assured me that a lot of people do it for fun as a family. They go camping. I don't really love camping, but I love Shaun, so I went. They camped at Island Park, which is only about an hour from Rexburg. So in my mind, I'm thinking why not just play outside all day and then drive home, shower, and sleep in my own bed? What's wrong with that? Then you get the experience of mosquitos attacking you by day but NOT by night, right? Wrong. Apparently there is something that people find immensely satisfying about cooking without traditional appliances, getting dirty and covered with Off, and smelling of smoke and sunscreen. Weird. However, I have to admit that it was pretty fun. I had a great time. We went rafting down Big Springs on Friday, and even though Shaun made me use the little paddle and didn't show me how to use it correctly, we still had a blast. Oh wait, he did show me how to use it when we were ten minutes from the end. He proceeded to demonstrate the girly way I had been holding the paddle for the last 3 hours and showed me the right way. Ridiculous. Now I'll know for next time I suppose? And I can't be really upset that I went camping, because his family didn't get mad that I used up more than half of their bug spray by myself. I'm pretty sure I had a cloud of repellant that resembled Pig Pen's aura from Charlie Brown, but I came away with only 5 bug bites, a feat if I do say so myself. So all in all, a good experience. Thank you Mayos for waiting to make fun of me when I was gone. Gotta love the outdoors.
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