As we entered Teton National Park on the Rockefeller Memorial Parkway, the ranger checked Diane's annual park pass and handed her a park map. Diane looked at it and said, "Do you have the Yellowstone map?" The ranger said, "No, I don't. You can get it at that park entrance." Diane looked confused, so Alice and I jumped right in to point out that we weren't at Yellowstone yet and laughed at her. Alice followed every move on the GPS and on the paper map, so she always knew where we were. This was the last time I knew where we were, so I had to make the most of it.
One night, once upon a time, my parents and my brothers and I were sitting around our campfire in a Yellowstone campground. A black bear ran right past the fire. Two park rangers with rifles followed. My mother sprang to her feet and blocked the rangers and ordered them not to kill that bear because, after all, we were in his territory and he belonged here and we didn't and how could they punish him for that. The rangers shifted from foot to foot and said, "Ma'am....ma'am...these are tranquilizer guns." They just wanted to move him away from the campground. She was satisfied with this explanation and let them pass. Of course, by then the bear was long gone.
Oh, and when I was a kid we said "buffalo," not "bison." Apparently, that's wrong now.
Civilian Conservation Corps built it in the 1930's. The interior is rustic, all of lodgepole pine logs.