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Hi. I’m Ben Benton from Flagstaff, Arizona. I believe that you will enjoy my daily journal from Yellowstone National Park during the summer of 1999. I left downtown Flagstaff with my saddle and duffel in early July and lighted in the horse corral at Mammoth Hot Springs. My journal will continue through September 20th, unless the weather shuts us down earlier. You’ll read about adventures on the back country trails, Yellowstone history, people I meet, and anything else I can think of to write about. I’m the author of “National Park Employment Data,” a guide to working in national parks, which is available for purchase on my web site at www.gorp.com/nped/. I’ve been working in national parks and ski areas off and on for over twenty years. Because I want the data in my book to always be fresh, I continually test the concepts, employers, and tips that I provide. Right now, I’m working for Amfac Parks and Resorts. They are a top notch concession company because they place employee training, morale, and amenities first. |
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Previous 7/16 |
Friday, 7-30-99The first time I worked in Yellowstone was the summer of 1978. I finished my first year at Arizona State University and moved from the dorm to a rented room in a nearby neighborhood. I got a job as a dishwasher in the Holiday Inn at the corner of Apache and Rural in Tempe. One evening I was bicycling home after work. It must have been near midnight. I thought to myself how refreshing the night breeze was on my forehead. When I got home and looked at the thermometer, it read 96 degrees. I wondered to myself if I was losing my mind thinking that was a cool breeze. The next day I made plans to quit my job, hitchhike to Montana, and find Beth. Beth and I became friends in my first year at ASU through a campus Christian group that met weekly at Danforth Chapel. So I went to the Hayden Library map room and got maps of Butte, Montana. I studied the route from Arizona to Montana. The only thing I didn’t do was to tell Beth that I was coming. I packed my North Face frame pack and put everything else in storage and set out for Montana. I know I kept a daily journal of that trip but I don’t have it with me. Here are a few things I remember about the trip. My first ride north on Black Canyon Highway was in a small motorhome with an old man and small white poodle. He said he had set out several weeks earlier but while driving up the freeway, his little dog got caught in the blower fan of the air conditioner. “The poor little s___ got cut up so I headed back to the vet to get her stitched,” he said. From Flagstaff north, I teamed up with another hitchhiker for a while and we got lots of short rides on the Navajo Reservation. Time and again, an old Navajo rancher would stop his flat bed truck with his whole family in the front seat. We would jump on the back and ride somewhere between a large spare tire and the family’s res dog. The rides never lasted for more than a few miles, then another flat bed would show up. Around Page, Arizona, we got a ride from a guy in a brand new pickup who said he worked at the power plant. North of Page, he pulled off the road and asked us if we would like to do a row of cocaine. The other hitchhiker said yes, I said no and bailed in a big hurry. Hitchhiking through Utah, I camped overnight at the side of the road and had a difficult time finding a spot not covered with broken beer bottles. I guess there’s more jack Mormons there than they would like to admit. When I got to Butte, Montana, I called Beth and she borrowed her dad’s car and came right to the restaurant to see me. We had such a good time that I rented a room in an old brick tenement downtown for a week with what little money I had left. It was pretty sad. Lots of coughing all night long and frequent ambulances hauling people with breathing problems to the hospital. The copper mining in Butte has taken quite a toll on people’s health. A week went by and reality set in. I had slightly more than $10 remaining. I had no Plan A. I had no Plan B. I hitchhiked from Butte to West Yellowstone and found the hiring office of Hamilton Stores and applied. I was interviewed by Laurie Dahl, director of personnel in those days. I was desperate. I said, “Laurie, I’m down to my last $10 and nobody has ever regretted hiring me.” She made me wait a day or two — I’m pretty sure it was two days, but I got a job a Hamilton’s West Thumb Store where I spent the remainder of the summer working the luncheonette and fishing Lake Yellowstone. I forget how I got back to Tempe for registration for the fall semester. But I do remember stopping at Jackson Lake Lodge and noticing the horse corral at the entrance and thinking to myself how cool it would be to work in a dude operation in the Tetons. It happened the following year, so my first job in a horse corral will be the story in my next Yellowstone Journal. |
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