Youth is Wasted on the Young

George Bernard Shaw’s little quip was cute when I was younger but now hits closer to home as one ages.  The meaning, of course, is that young folk don’t use their youthful vigor to do the things they may not be able to do later in life.

TO WIT: Diana and I decided to leave for our winter home in Mesa early this year and check off one more thing on our bucket list: See Yellowstone National Park.  Notice I said “See”, not “Visit.”  Doing some quick research, I found that the temperatures in the high country of Yellowstone begin to drop to below freezing in September, with a touch of snow possible.  Diana hates anything below 60° Fahrenheit, so we had to hustle to get to Wyoming before the white stuff.

On the road we stayed in Lincoln, NE and Cheyenne, WY, before we found our B & B in Jackson Hole.  The Bentwood Inn is an eight bedroom classic log home, with all the amenities including two gracious Innkeepers, Scott and Susie.  They do not allow pets, which we knew, so our 19-year-old cat, Toddy, had to make do with her suite in the car.

On the first full day we had scheduled a wildlife tour at sunset, so took off in the morning for a little sightseeing on our own.  We entered Grand Teton National Park, stopped at the Visitor Center, and then may a half-day tour of the area, profoundly amazed at the beauty of the mountains.  Unfortunately, the wildfires in the area left the mountains in a purple haze denying us and others the crisp views we had hoped for.  The park maps showed us a driving route with many trailheads from which to park and hike to see even more of nature close up.  Here is where we wished we could have used a little of our wasted youth.

Now of Medicare age, we find we cannot hike the 10 mile loops around the many lakes and pine woods (oh, let’s be honest – anything over a mile is a challenge).   We no longer could climb the rolling hills without gasping for air while trying to keep a lookout for bear or moose.  We managed a few strolls to the shore of Jenny Lake, but envied the Birkenstock crowd who foraged off into parts unknown with their hiking boots, granola, and a do-rag.  Our meager attempts to commune with nature did not get us into the interior where, surely, we would have met a Grizzly on the trail, or seen a moose in rut.  It is this kind of trek we were too late for, except in Discovery Channel documentaries.

So the lesson, if I may, is to tell the younger folk to make these fantastic trips earlier.  Take your children to see not only Old Faithful, but to see what lies over the next hill, without wheezing and attracting a crowd of wolves, who are hoping to thin the herd of its weakest members.  Leave the museums and car tours for later in life and make the more athletic choices while you still can. “See,” not just “Visit.”

However, do not dismay if you already passed the point of climbing even small hills, because these National Parks are breathtaking from any vantage point.  The roads twist and turn to take you to scenic overlooks that do not leave you disappointed.  It’s just that the young are already so lost in electronics that maybe a hike in the mountains does not appeal to them, at least not without a cell signal.