September 17-22, 2009
The morning after my big night
at Upper Geyser Basin I lingered long in the campground, even while
beautiful light was recreating Madison River just hundreds of yards
from my tent. I seemed to have been raptured out, at least
temporarily. Eventually I wandered down to the river, checked out
some serious algae life in a back channel, and then strolled upstream
to the Information Center where I hung back and listened to others
talk to a ranger who seemed to know his stuff. Bob Hamilton was his
name. He was scheduled to give a talk the next afternoon at West
Yellowstone on the impact of wolf reintroduction on grizzly bears.
Knowing I wouldn’t get to the talk I asked him for the abstract,
which was roughly that wolves probably help grizzlies by providing
more dead meat.
He was breaking for lunch and invited me to sit with
him while he ate. Rather than just ask questions I had to put in my
two cents as well and we had a good conversation about broader
issues. I should have just shut up and learned but I felt I had to
pull weight. He told me that one elk herd, the Madison herd, never
took to migrating out of the park in winter and was getting hammered
by wolves. He also confirmed my impression that the Yellowstone trees
are sadly undernourished. A surprise treat.
Another
ranger came by for
jeep keys
and
the two discussed a
wolf pack’s
apparently wanton
slaughter
of over a hundred sheep near Dillon Montana,
as
well as the recent law allowing people to carry weapons in the
national parks. I
suggested that armed hikers could increase the killing of grizzly
bears, but the second ranger’s concern was more with the possible
shooting of rangers.
I
set out after
lunch intending
to do a falls hike but impulsively
turned
up the Firehole Canyon scenic drive and discovered - Firehole Canyon!
Who knew? I looked back later to see if the guidebooks mention it,
and they do, but not with the proper
awe
it
deserves.
It was pretty great. An
800 foot-high
lava wall, a
wild river
with lots of rapids, a significant falls, and eventually a swimming
hole, the reason most people come here. Me, I like wild water. I did
descend to one great rapids, managing to negotiate steep volcanic slopes without falling on
my face.
The
spray
was
warm, not
surprisingly since the river had just run through the greatest geyser
basins in the world. By
the time I finished
exploring the three-mile road it was
time
for dinner
at the picnic area along Nez Perce Creek.
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Firehole Canyon
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Firehole Canyon
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Firehole Canyon
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After dinner, I puttered a
bit more around the river near one of the hot spring areas. The
geysers themselves can be annoying, really. Hot air, smoky, smelly.
(I suggested to one of the rangers that they put lemon juice down
them to freshen them up a bit, but she didn’t even snicker. I guess
Yellowstone rangers get so many asinine comments that they don’t
recognize genuine wit when they hear it). I mostly like having access
to the river. The Firehole River in itself is nothing spectacular,
and would not be protected or accessible without the geysers. That's
part of the beauty of Yellowstone National Park: it protects a fair
amount of fine but not spectacular landscape because of the
geological weirdness.
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Firehole River
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Duly rested, I set out the
next day on my waterfalls hike. Two of them, actually. Mystic Falls
was my first destination, but I was delayed at Biscuit Basin by another outburst of
charismatic megafauna. A large bull elk came strutting across the
parking lot, followed by an adult female and a classic-looking
juvenile, not sure which gender. One by one they came, through the steam of the
geysers, and into the grass beyond. The two females (I’d decided)
began to browse, but the male had other things on his mind. He
wallowed into a marsh and started shaking his head into the soup,
presumably intending a mating display. Grass in his ears, grass in his nose.
The younger female gave him a glance but the older one kept browsing,
as if to mutter “just ignore him honey”.
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Elk display |
The hike itself could only be anticlimactic, but it was a nice stroll up a mile or so to
70’-high Mystic Falls on the Little Firehole River. Thermophile
strips along side the falls indicate the river’s thermal character.
Then another ascend some 500’ elevation to an overview of a
classic oxbow on the Little Firehole.
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Mystic Falls
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Little Firehole River
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On to Fairy Falls. Down
Fountain Flat Drive, a gravel road turned bike trail in wide open
country alongside Midway Basin. Then a turn into a real trail through
doghair lodgepole already succumbing to pine blister. Not a
hike I would want to do on a hot day, but this one was growing cloudy
and eventually turned to light rain. The thin, 200’ falls looked
quite theatrical in its natural grotto, amid mixed regrowth and open
burned spaces. On further to Imperial Geyser, a rambunctious little
guy with nice color. The hike had me thinking of fire, soil, and
trees. Lots of dead and downed trees, not for the first time in this
forest's life, presumably providing nutrients to the soil. How long
will it take before this builds a soil capable of growing a forest
richer than lodgepole pine?
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Midway Basin |
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Fairy Falls
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Fairy Falls
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Imperial Geyser
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That
evening I returned to my perch above the Gibbon-Firehole confluence, a lovely golden blue. One bison. Two female elk, both with collars.
Many people on beach chairs on high banks, myself included, though I
was by myself on the northern bank. One fly fisherman. An elk came my
way below in the river and many people followed with cameras past my
chair. A couple of them had
had a few beers. But they all went away with the elk. A pastoral scene, and I decided I’d be happy to
die here. Back to the campground in the dark, stars were bright,
the area was quiet. I realized this was the first day I took no nap
and no painkiller, and I was feeling pretty good. The sulphur? Don't
be ridiculous.
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Yellowstone River
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Yellowstone River
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The Tower area is a sleeper,
a wonderful condensed area of geological exposure, plus the
Yellowstone River. A spectacular exposure of basalt columns rises
directly from the road on the way to Tower. Regrettably, the road and
its turnouts are very narrow, dangerous and insufficient, though so
there would seem to be little the national park could do to improve
access or safety. The overlook to Calcite Springs is more valuable
for overlook of Yellowstone Canyon.
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Yellowstone River
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Not much national park presence, just a backcountry station with no real visitor's facilities, though the
young man on duty was certainly responsive.
Then a brief reconnaissance of
the Lamar Valley, famous as an “American Serengeti” and a big
area for viewing wolves. This was not the time or the season for that
and I had the place to myself. I was laughably tentative, sticking
close to the mostly quiet highway, and of course saw nothing but
bison. For me it was a landscape place. Golden meadows, rounded
slopes with benches, lightly forested, then up to background peaks,
river of course running through. Light wasn’t all I could wish for,
with gray clouds darkening the peaks. The golden meadow, though,
glowed. On the ride back a pronghorn crossed the road right in front
of me in the gloaming. A real gift.
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Lamar Valley |
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Lamar Valley |
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Lamar Valley |
Then it was on to Mammoth where I
surprised myself by taking in the hot springs. The light looked good, the crowds weren't bad so hey. Once again I had a
great time. Storm clouds along the horizon added sublimity to
exquisitely delicate formations. Otherwise, not a thought in my head.
I had one last hike in me, nine miles
round trip to Osprey Falls on the Gardner River, and it was a good one. I saw 6
people all day. I got stared down by a bison in the open field,
nothing between me and him were he to decide to charge. I took my time and was not back until 5:30. After a quick dinner at Sheepeater Picnic Area I soaked up what little sun was left in a great landscape.
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Osprey Falls
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Osprey Falls
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I was feeling somehow
liberated. As in, Mission Accomplished. Pulling out of my campground
the next morning I waved to a young lady just setting up camp and she
responded with the happiest face and most exuberant wave - I'M IN
YELLOWSTONE! It felt good to be leaving the park to fresh psyches.
Breakfast at a picnic table
north of Mammoth on the Gardner River, the Wyoming-Montana border,
and right near the 45th parallel for what that is worth (a sign). Not
quite out of the park yet, but damn close. Absolutely perfect fall
weather. I noticed I was sitting under a juniper tree. I hadn't seem
one of those in a while. Ecosystems change fast.
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Leaving Yellowstone (approximately)
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Grabbed a campsite outside
the park along the Yellowstone River, lots of sunlight and large
boulders providing crucial windbreak. The sun was sliding along the
top of the ridge rather than just dropping behind it, a wonderful
development. The river was across the highway in deep in a trench,
access demanding far more energy than I had to give it. Plus it was
in the shade, and sun was my highest priority. Even after the sun set
the temperature remained a good bit warmer than what I'd been
experiencing. I was at a lower elevation but I didn’t know how much
lower. As of 7:30PM I was still sitting out in a sweater.
Morning was a different
story. Temperature wasn’t too bad but the wind more than
compensated. The sun didn’t emerge where I'd hoped it would; it was
climbing behind a ridge and wouldn't be over it any time soon. I would have
to go out and find it.
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