The middle of June was slated as the beginning of our summer vacation, and on the 15th, we departed for Colorado. It was a grand trip, for Dad had promised an extensive vacation following the debilitating chemotherapy treatments, and told me that we would go anywhere I wished. My choice was not a difficult one; I had always loved the west and desired to see both "old sights" and new. The resulting journey made its first stop in the Colorado Rocky Mountains, but since we had been to the area numerous times, we did not tarry long; the day after hiking up a small hill and splashing barefoot in an icy mountain stream, we drove along Trail Ridge Road and headed north to the Tetons and Yellowstone National Park. Yellowstone was a source of much fascination, yet prior to our arrival at the park itself, a short ramble in the roadside brush (for the purpose of taking a better scenic photograph) led to the discovery of an entire moose carcass. I quickly hoisted the head into the air, and positioned it before my own, whereupon my mom excitedly captured my lack of respect for the dead on film. Unable to relinquish my antlered scull, my parents agreed to stow it in the trunk. The weathered skull had been callously separated from its body without last rites or a solitary tear, but, driving from the area, I did not really think the moose would mind. The next day, after scouting past numerous bubbling geysers, I bought a moose charm in a souvenir shop. I wished to commemorate my find of the previous day (and perhaps, subconsciously placate the moose's spirit if it had suffered any ill-will toward my action). We also decided to eat lunch at that time since the restaurant was in close proximity to the renowned "Old Faithful," and being so close, had ample time to finish our food before it again blew its steam skyward. Lunch arrived soon following our order, yet time began to drift away as Mom delved into her mountainous chef's salad. It was obvious that we would miss the eruption of Old Faithful if direct action was not taken; Dad and I said "good-bye" to Mom and dashed on to the extensive patio where other visitors were gathering. Eyes were riveted on the strangely steaming mound; a few men checked their wrist-watches, as if doubtful of the geyser's punctuality. No one was disappointed. Exactly one hour after its last appearance, a mad bubbling issued from the previously silent pit and multiplied its violent surges until frothing liquid shot into the sky. People oohed and ahhed and pointed fingers. Cameras clicked furiously.