Looking up more often

I’ll have to start paying better attention.

Sports Illustrated shot some of its latest swimsuit issue in Yellowstone National Park. In a couple of photos model Jessica Gomes perches alluringly at the edge of the Grand Canyon with Lower Falls in the background, and in another she poses topless next to Morning Glory Pool.

The pictures were taken last summer, but until I received my magazine in the mail, I had no idea SI shot a portion of its iconic issue in the park.

I was in Yellowstone last summer and didn’t see a thing.

And I always look.

Bikini-wearing babes, however, aren’t what I’m used to seeing in the park. I’m usually on the lookout for bears, bison and badger holes. And when I’m fishing, I’m focused on the water. I have to remind myself to look up.

I should look up more often. I may have been fishing in the canyon -- eyes locked on a drifting hopper -- while Gomes posed for the camera a few hundred feet above me.

I’ll admit to the occasional ogle, even in Yellowstone. I still never drive the Mammoth hill without my head swiveling in the direction of Boiling River, the most popular swimming hole in the park. There’s a parking lot there now and a graveled trail along the river to the hot pools, but not too many years ago it was known only to the locals, and swimsuits were optional.

Boiling River actually has operating hours now and closes at dusk, but back in the day the most popular time to soak was at night. Rangers would show up if there was a crowd, and shine their flashlights on the naked bathers, but other than that there was little supervision or intrusion from park authorities.

If the Sports Illustrated shoot was at Boiling River, I would have noticed. But at the top of the canyon while I was fishing in the bottom? I never thought to look.

Perhaps it’s best I didn’t.

I always check out the places I’ve seen game before, especially bears. I can’t help it. I keep expecting to see something there again. Had I seen a half-naked young woman perched on the cliffs above the river I’d have a hard time fishing or even watching my fly. I’d just keep looking up, expecting to see her again. It would ruin that stretch of river.

And I might step in a badger hole.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]