Yellowstone Upper Loop: Private Wildlife Safari & Lamar Valley

★★★★★★★★★★

4.90

(99 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

First thing I remember is our guide, Mike, handing me a pair of binoculars before I’d even finished my coffee. “Bison crossing,” he said, pointing out the window as we rolled through West Yellowstone before sunrise. I wasn’t expecting to feel so awake that early, but there’s something about the way the air smells out here—pine and a little bit of sulfur from the distant Norris Geyser Basin. We stopped in Lamar Valley just as the light started to hit the grass, and honestly, it felt like being dropped into a nature documentary. Wolves were somewhere out there (we heard them howling, which was…chilling in a good way), but mostly I watched bison steam in the cold. Mike told us stories about Rick McIntyre tracking wolf packs—he’s kind of a legend around here—and for a second it felt like we were all part of some bigger Yellowstone story.

I’m not usually one for geology talk, but standing at the edge of Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone with that river roaring below? It got to me. The spray from the falls actually made my glasses fog up, which was awkward but also sort of perfect. Lunch happened somewhere near Mammoth Hot Springs—catered sandwiches (I went veggie) and snacks spread out on the back bumper while elk wandered by like they owned the place. Someone tried to pronounce “travertine terraces” correctly; Li laughed when I tried to say it in Mandarin—probably butchered it. The colors there are wild—reds and browns you don’t see anywhere else except maybe on old postcards.

Later we pulled over at some random spot near Mount Washburn because Mike spotted movement—a bear, just for a moment, then gone behind trees. Everyone got weirdly quiet after that; maybe it was nerves or just respect. The day kept unfolding like that: quick stops at waterfalls (Undine Falls had this myth about water goddesses—who knew?), more wildlife sightings than I could count, and always this feeling that you couldn’t possibly see everything but you wanted to try anyway. By late afternoon I was sunburned and tired but didn’t want it to end. There’s still this smell in my jacket from sitting near Slough Creek—a mix of sagebrush and river mud—that brings me right back every time.