I have learned over our several years of marriage that when my husband drives, his “shortcuts” can be both a blessing and a curse. There are times his endless supply of “bat routes” helps us avoid heavy construction or slow traffic. And then again – there are other times I come to the abrupt realization he’s just turned down a goat track and I’m about to discover the wildlife indigenous to the back roads of Idaho Falls.

Having lived just a few miles north of Yellowstone Bear World since its inception in 1998, I have always looked at it as a threatening “shortcut” to the real wildlife wonders of Yellowstone National Park, also “just up the road,” in the opposite direction. It wasn’t until my daughter Alexia insisted I come with her and her preschool class to Yellowstone Bear World this spring that I considered possibly changing my attitude of this “shortcut” from “curse” to “blessing.”

Found along Highway 20 between Rigby and Rexburg, my family and I often pass it on our weekly adventures to Idaho Falls for one reason and another. “There’s a buffalo!” I’ll call out. “Where? Where?” come the echoes from the back of the van. Too late. But next time there will be elk, or nothing, or a buffalo again. Or perhaps, when I’m too distracted myself to be watching for wildlife, our five-year-old will pipe up, “There’s my bear world!” Having been there with her preschool class twice now, it’s no wonder she gets excited each time we pass.
Large signs promising encounters “This close!” to wildlife beckon drivers to hop off the highway and enter by a massive sign sensibly stating “ENTRANCE.” This particular “shortcut, ” they promise, is teeming with a variety of wild critters, many of which our grandparents talked about discovering in Yellowstone National Park for years, the bolder ones crawling into their cars to devour the box of cookies in the backseat while Grandpa fumbled with the camera and muttered about damage to the upholstery. Even I remember a snowmobile trip in Yellowstone National Park in which our group was delayed by a herd of bison who apparently decided they were in need of a rest – right in the middle of the groomed trail.

This time, the wildlife encounter is also a cold one, with temps dropping from the early week’s sunshine and 70’s to the end of week’s rain, hail, and chilling winds, typical of early May in Idaho. I study the huge blanket of black clouds rolling out in all directions above us and I know any moment it’s not pouring with rain will be a fortunate one.

I try to relax in the yellow school bus amidst a flock of preschoolers and moms, awaiting further instructions. The kids are restless and several change seats from front to back, front again, and back once more, while several moms and preschool helpers talk about the gloomy weather and what happened on the tour earlier in the day with the morning group. I decide to click a few quick photos of my kids and their friends while we’re waiting and Isaac unzips his jacket just long enough to give me his best Clark-Kent-Becomes-Superman pose for the camera. Our tour guides arrive. At last, it’s time to drive through. A few kids skitter down the aisle toward the back of the bus again, and we’re off.

A paved one-way road twists and winds through a sizeable area, introducing us almost immediately to their massive resident buffalo, “Billy,” as well as a rocky area scattered with goats who “look like the stuffing’s coming out,” as our guide describes them, in the slow process of losing the heaviness of their winter coats as warmer temperatures return. Thanks to cold, wet weather and the enthusiasm of both kids and adults, fog quickly forms on the windows and I fumble with my coat sleeve to clear enough of a spot to snap a few pictures. With a lurch, the bus is in motion again and it’s on to the next area. More animals are just ahead, and I scramble to clear another spot on the window – a ritual I will repeat so many times during our drive that I finally give up on pointing out bears to Isaac and let him to fend for himself. Our tour includes deer, elk, wolves, goats, a turtle – if you can distinguish him from the surrounding rocks – and of course, more bears than you can shake a Twinkie at. (Which, I’m thinking would explain why all windows are definitely kept up during our drive through the bears.) While riding through the park with Alexia and Isaac, I become increasingly amazed by the uniqueness of this animal encounter. Where else could I possibly see a pure white elk – a phenomenon occurring once in about two million? There are two massive turkeys – do we have those in Idaho? Apparently so, although admittedly not something I usually bump into in Madison County while taking the kids to school each day. But here they are, literally as large as life, if not larger.

The highlight of the drive is of course the bears – and there are plenty of them. Our tour guides take time to introduce us to each bear by name, talking about the specific traits that make so many of them unique. Honey, affectionately nicknamed “Grandma” is the old-timer at around 31 years old. As we pass, Honey remains next to the road in a patch of wild grasses, flat on her bum, looking altogether unruffled and gentle. (Mental note: I consider her eight or nine hundred pounds of “gentleness” and decide that’s not something to test beyond a quick picture or two from safely inside the bus.) We also meet Boo, best known for his role as “Baloo” in the live action version of Disney’s Jungle Book. But being the only movie star in the park does not necessarily make him the only performer, I soon learn, as the tour guides mention one black bear who has taught himself to clap his paws when the hourly curator tours toss goodies to the bears. And as any toddler knows, the more charm you can pour on, the greater your chances of an even great reward. Apparently, even at Bear World, the charm definitely works.

It is true the majority are black bears (referring to the species, not necessarily the color), and there are plenty to see. Some roam freely near the fence line while others lounge about by their lodgings, gentle sloped areas with embedded pieces of culvert, open at both ends and with an assortment of fallen trees scattered across the top. But all are close by – and certainly as close as I care to be – no zoom lens or binoculars required.
Following the drive through, it’s time to meet the babies. The first stop is the cub pen where several cubs tumble out into their rocky enclosure, thrilled to greet us. Their attention spans are short however, and soon they divert their energies to climbing rocks and wrestling each other, as wild and rowdy as a group of preschoolers. (Although perhaps I should choose a better analogy, present tour group considered.) We have the opportunity to meet Kuma, a cub named by Alexia’s preschool group a few short weeks ago. It quickly becomes apparent, however, Kuma has already decided the preschool group holds no interest today and instead behaves as what one guide describes as a “naughty” cub, shortly before being dismissed to play with the other furry toddlers. The children all have ample opportunity to stroke an alternative cub or two before moving on, some of them, including Isaac, clever enough to pet the cub once, and then hurry further down the line in hopes of a second chance.

Finally, after the preschoolers have all had their chance to gawk at the cubs, the cubs in turn doing likewise, we are herded off towards the petting zoo, with only a few stragglers, including my rather busy two-year-old.
As a parent of three, I’ve been to more petting zoos than I’d like to think about, always seeing the fluffy bunnies, pigs, ducklings, baby chicks, and whatnot. This time however, I’m caught off-guard as the first critter to greet us is a rather large and bedraggled-looking turkey. All sorts of feathers are missing or damaged, but nevertheless this poor Tom fluffs whatever he’s got left. I can’t decide if he’s having serious moulting problems or if something as simple as the stress of captivity is destroying his plumage, but something about him is a little creepy. He just kind of stands there, staring at us and waiting. I’d pet him, but – where? I notice the kids sidling away in other directions to instead pet furrier members of the zoo population. A young deer is especially patient as several preschoolers stream by, stroking her neck, ribs, and flanks. One deer pokes her nose into a feed dispenser while a mom fumbles with a quarter to release the food for her daughter. By now it’s raining – and then hailing – as I watch children hurrying in all directions to observe the geese, ducks, deer, and several others milling about the rather sizeable enclosure. They’re not supposed to chase the animals, but soon I see a couple of birds scurrying to keep out of the way of a determined five-year-old boy in a blue coat. I debate whether I’m all that keen to stand around in this, just as my two-year-old decides it’s time to bail. I follow Isaac into a sheltered area between the petting zoo and cub pen for a moment and a make a comment to one of our tour guides about the inclement weather, noting the hail doesn’t seem to discourage the cubs who are still busy “bear wrestling,” knocking each other over and rolling end for end, only to get up and do it again. One bear stops to gnaw on a log inside the enclosure, only to find his jaws may be a tad too small still. And then the wrestling resumes. At the same moment, I notice my own toddler, now out in the open near the pen, crouched and intently studying the little white “marbles” while more pelt him from above. He seems nonplussed and eventually turns off in a different direction for further adventure. Apparently all toddlers are the same when it comes to being outside, boy and bear alike.

As I reenter the petting zoo, determined to tough it out, I again bump into our friend the turkey, who looks like something the cat dragged in. (Must’ve been some cat!) I later learn the turkey is, in fact, moulting. And, having started life being hand-fed by a kind farmer, he is actually a rather gentle and amiable creature – even if I’m still debating where exactly I’d like to try and pet him.

I watch two of three deer trot by, a flock of ducks waddling across the enclosure in tight military formation, and their very casual resident moose sauntering along the other side of the fence line. I remember being told to give moose a wide berth, and yet here he is, wandering around outside the petting zoo as if that’s what all moose do when they’re not busy with more pressing moosely duties. A deer follows him from our side of the fence for a while, as if in some silent conversation, and they are soon joined by a preschooler who seems equally amazed to be this close to something that big and wild, a simple wire fence their only separation.

Our visit in the petting zoo is winding down and I’m definitely ready to get out of the rain and headed for home. As I herd Isaac slowly and persistently back to the parking lot, much the same way one would herd a chicken, I consider what a unique little haven this has become. Yellowstone Bear World seems to be ever growing – in terms of space utilization, as well as animal population – but the basic design remains in place. Visitors have access to plenty of parking space, a gift shop, food, amusement rides for the kids, a rather unusual petting zoo, and a variety of unique amenities, all geared towards this amazing experience face to face with wildlife.

I know Yellowstone Bear World is a shortcut: a shortcut to a real opportunity for those who would love to see the wildlife of Yellowstone National Park, but with only an hour or two to do it. If you’re like me, the prices will be a bit of a “sticker shock” for you, but it’s important to consider what you’re offered. Having lived an hour or two away from Yellowstone National Park for most of my life, I’ve found excuses to visit dozens of times, photo albums brimming with pictures of geysers and mud pots. Only once have I seen a bear, the photo snapped from a sizeable distance, lest he decided he was more interested in human flesh than larvae. Some years we see lots of elk, other years we may chance upon a herd of bison, and still other times we see nothing more than one or two deer darting off through the trees, a few chipmunks, and that’s it. At Bear World, by contrast, the guarantee is already within the fence line, ready and waiting, rain or shine. And sometimes, just sometimes – whether I admit this to my husband or not – it pays to take the shortcut.

Things to know

How to get there: It’s located on the west side of U.S Highway 20 between mile markers 326 and 327, about 10 minutes north of Rigby or 10 minutes south of Rexburg, in the Archer/Lorenzo area.

Admission: $13.95 per adult, $9.95 for children ages 3 to 10, free for 2 and under. lternative admission option: $50.00 per carload, 7 people maximum. (Admission includes the drive through all the animals, as well as the cub pen and petting zoo.)

Family fun pack: $24.95 per family (for up to 7)
This does not include admission to Bear World. However, for those who would like to linger a bit longer, this fun pack will allow your kids all the turns on the amusement rides they would like, plus as many curator tours as you would like, as well as a 10% discount on other amenities, such as food, beverages, and souvenirs from the gift shop.

Business Hours: Yellowstone Bear World is open seven days per week, beginning in mid May and running through mid October. The gates open at 9 a.m. and the last car is allowed in at 5 p.m. until mid June, at which time entry for the last car is 6 p.m.

Curator Tours: Guests to Yellowstone Bear World are also welcome to participate in “curator tours,” tours which take up to thirty guests each hour (beginning on the half hour) via truck to see and feed the bears. (Be sure to watch for the one with the clapping paws –) Note: tours are not part of the general admission and will cost extra. Either $11.95 per person, or, as I would suggest, get the family fun pack and take the whole group at a significant savings.