Notes from the Road - Day 8

2/6/04 10:00pm Bozeman, MT

Sometimes you just get lucky. Today, I backtracked I-90 to Livingston, then went south to Gardiner, which is the first entrance built to Yellowstone National Park. The sun was shining but the air still carried a bitter chill. I stopped at a roadside historic marker on I-90, one of many I’ve seen so far on this trip, and by the time I got back in my car, I couldn’t feel my ears or nose and I was shaking all over. On the road south, wisps of snow blew across the highway, twisting and dissipating in the wind like the shadows of ghosts. No FM radio stations can penetrate the mountains. When you hit the “seek” button, the radio just scrolls through the entire spectrum, then starts over again at the beginning. New Mexico was the first place I ever encountered this phenomenon, but there’ve been several places on my trip so far that have had the same isolation.

At Gardiner, I had lunch in a cozy diner, once again in the back of a shop, this time a drug store. Some of the men knew the waitress by name, which didn’t surprise me since it was about the only business open in the entire town. Everywhere I looked, there were signs on the doors saying “Closed for season-see you in April!” I put a new roll of film in my camera, but when I wound it, it didn’t sound right. I didn’t want to chance losing my photos of Yellowstone, so I picked up a disposable camera, and started it with the Roosevelt arch which marks the gateway to the park and was dedicated in 1903 by Teddy Roosevelt. It was built to create a more dramatic entrance than just a road. It stands 50 feet tall.

The best term I can think of to describe the park is majestic. The overwhelming majority of the park was closed, including all but two of the roads, which together lead from the north entrance to the northeast entrance. However, the northeast entrance had no access to I-90, so you had to come out the same way you went in.

The fee to enter the park is $20 regardless, and the pass is good for 7 days and Grand Teton Park to the south of Yellowstone. Only one feature of the park was open, Mammoth Hot Springs. This was very similar to, but much taller than, the geothermal activity in Rotorua, New Zealand. It took me an hour and a half to two hours to walk all the trails but one. The sign said a dozen people have been scalded to death there by steam and the water is acidic enough to eat through boots, so I made sure I always stayed on the wooden path, but it wasn’t easy, since the paths weren’t maintained. They were all covered in snow which had been trampled by many boots to become compacted ice. At the very top, the final formation had actually grown over and around the original path, so they built a new one. I saw a branch in the water, covered all over, except for a stick standing out of the water, with the same mineral deposits that had turned most of the area into a giant white sculpture, with here and there some rainbow of sulfur growth for variety. Everywhere steam rose the snow instantly melted, leaving the rock or small pond completely exposed. Snow covered everything else, except where the cliffs had formed, threatening avalanche.

When I saw the path covered in compacted snow, I knew it was only a matter of time before I slipped and busted my behind. I just wish it hadn’t been on the way back down, less than 100 feet from my car. That wasn’t the only hang-up of the trip. I also managed to get the car stuck on what looked like an unplowed lookout area. These areas dot the entirety of the park, and because of the size of this area, I figured they must have just missed it. I was wrong. As soon as I pulled off, the car sank about 4 inches into snow. I tried to dig out the front tire with the shovel Mark had suggested I bring, and I tried putting the car in neutral and pushing it out, but in the end, three people from two different cars that stopped for me pushed while I threw it in reverse, and that did the trick. The most embarrassing part was that I was only a couple inches off the road.

The reason I’d pulled off, and it was by no means the first time, was to photograph wildlife. Today, I got to see herds of mule deer and female elk, five male elk, two of which were up close, three coyotes, two black wolves, and a bunch of buffalo, which for some reason I never thought I’d see. I got a little lost and ended up in a truck/RV camp, and as I was making my way out four buffalo appeared and started walking up the road toward me. I didn’t comprehend the size of these things until they got within 30 feet of me. Part of the reason for that was I was using the binoculars Mark generously lent me, which I used a lot. I also saw herds of buffalo in valleys and on hill tops. The only thing I really missed was moose and beaver. I even saw a woodpecker.

The first coyote I saw just jumped off the road in front of me, but the other two I saw when looking for wolves. The ranger told me when I entered the park that there’d been wolf activity reported in one area. However, since Mammoth Hot Springs had taken me so long, I didn’t have a lot of hope I’d get to see them. It was growing dark when I passed a large group of cars and people, but the sun was still out so I continued, thinking I’d reach the end of the road at the northeast entrance, then come back. The ice that still covered the road for long stretches changed my mind, so when I got back to the people I pulled over and asked a woman if they were looking at wolves. She said the people on the hill could see them, but no one down below had been able to. There were three people manning two telescopes on the hill she pointed to, but it looked like a hundred had made the trip up and back down. Everyone was leaving but them, and light clouds began obscuring the sun, so I started making my way up the left edge of the wide, packed snow trail. I was only wearing shoes, having forgotten to borrow Mark’s boots like he offered. When my foot sank into the snow up to the knee, I almost turned around. The hill’s slope was such that I couldn’t see how far I had to go, and with every step I was afraid I’d fall on one of the rocks just below the surface of the packed snow, some of which were poking through, black and sharp. Then I thought to myself, “I’ve never turned away from stupid risks before. Why start now?” Just a few more steps, and I could see the heads of the people on top. When I got there, I found out they were hardcore wolf junkies. They had one telescope trained on two black ones, and the other was looking for a silver wolf. The man running that telescope kept talking to a partner over a walkie talkie, referring to one of the wolves as “302.” All wolves reintroduced at Yellowstone have been tagged, and I guess the rangers try to catch and tag their pups, too. They let me see the two they had in their sites, then I walked back to the car. The coyotes I saw from the parking area were both gingerly walking in tracks through the snow left by much larger animals, either buffalo or elk probably. I watched them for a minute, then headed back.

When I called Mark’s number on my cell phone, Nicole picked up and suggested a restaurant/bar in town where I could grab some supper, since they’d already eaten. It was a converted railway station filled with college kids and townies, very cool and hip. They had a bunch of local beers, so I ordered one, and their cheeseburger was served on an unusual bun, but it was good.