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We ran into members of the "Grizz Gang" several times during our stay. This group of bear watchers from across the country meets every year for two weeks around the beginning of August. They often take their scopes back into the woods, but early in the morning and in the evening you can find them set up near the road, willing to share their expertise and equipment.

On a foggy morning we saw them set up near the Canyon junction. A grizzly bear had been feasting on a buffalo carcass just 200 yards away earlier in the morning. But by now the fog had moved in, covering the field with a thick white blanket.

We decided to wait, and as the air warmed and the fog cleared, we saw the figure of a large animal in the distance -- a wolf.

A grizzly watcher from Chicago let us peer through his scope as the gray and white wolf tore strips of meat from the carcass. It felt like our personal nature show, watching as the wolf walked back into the trees, then returned a few minutes later to chase a hungry coyote off of her breakfast.

By the evening, 200 people were lined up along the junction, watching a 300-pound grizzly eat dinner as rangers stood by.

We saw wolf pups later that same night in the Lamar Valley. And female big horn sheep with lambs blocked our path as we hiked down from the top of Mt. Washburn (there are two trails that lead to the summit; take the far more scenic southern trail, beginning at Dunraven Pass).

The moose remained more elusive. Though once plentiful in Yellowstone, the moose population has dropped since the 1988 fires, which wiped out much of the moose's habitat. When asked where to spot moose, a few park employees will even tell you, "The Tetons."

We spotted one on our second-to-last day in the park, drinking from Yellowstone Lake, and our animal checklist was complete.

Yellowstone is also a place where you shouldn't be startled to suddenly come across something bubbling or steaming. There are parts of the park that look and feel like another planet. Places where things are appropriately named "Black Growler," "Mud Volcano" and "Whirligig Geyser." When the first known white man to explore the park, John Colter, returned to describe the place, they thought he'd been hallucinating and dubbed it "Colter's Hell."

But among all the churning and spewing there are also serene springs in deep blues, fiery oranges or emerald greens created by the thermophilic -- or heat-loving -- bacteria that dwell in them. The Grand Prismatic Spring, the largest spring in the United States, shows off rings of bright colors around its blue center.

We spent a day in the geyser basin around Old Faithful. The ranger station there lists the predicted eruptions for the day, which we grabbed to plan out our schedule. Some geysers in the park have small eruptions every 10 minutes. Others haven't erupted for years. Rangers give daily predictions for six of the geysers, but predictions are a window for eruption, not a specific time.

After catching two eruptions, I settled on a bench in front of Grand Geyser -- the largest predicted geyser in the park, it shoots water 150 to 180 feet in the air. But its predicted eruption time comes with an hour and a half window on either side.

We sat on the bench and ate a packed lunch while we waited. Behind us, a boy of about 9 swung his legs and, head down, mumbled in a sing-song voice, "Come on, stupid geyser."

It started about 10 minutes after its predicted time, first slowly, then shooting high into the air. Two other nearby geysers exploded at the same time. The water from the three quickly created a shallow lake that ran below the platform, sending up steam between the beams of wood.

It erupted for about eight minutes, then stopped. The geyser sat silently for about a minute before sending up its encore, a column of water that immediately shot higher than the geyser had risen before and towered over the trees.

The boy behind us jumped up excitedly. In between a litany of "Wows" he turned to his parents.

"That was the highlight of my trip!"

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