Car & Map
hobo-log

Yellowstone

Print the article

This entry was posted on 9/10/2006 6:18 PM and is filed under Wyoming.

Yellowstone National Park
August 27-28
        
In 1988 the National Forest Service learned a valuable lesson.  Enormous piles of dry pine and assorted deadwood are wont to burn–-in fact to the tune of about 800,000 acres of charred National Park.  Nowadays, when you drive around the loop in Yellowstone you’ll probably spot a sign closing off a narrow dirt track: “Natural wildfire - Do not report.”

Park authorities seem to have embraced the natural necessity of the burn and now wildfires burn unmolested more frequently and on a less catastrophic scale.  Which is to say, while 1/3 of Yellowstone went up in flames 18 years ago, it hasn’t done so since.   

We rumbled past the east gate and into the park over a 15 mile stretch of formerly paved road.  Before crossing into Yellowstone, we drove what Teddy Roosevelt called “the most beautiful 50 miles of highway in America,” between Cody, WY and Yellowstone.  Unfortunately for him, the road through Glacier National Park had yet to be built.  (But more on that later.)   When the Park road crews finally gave way to paved road again we topped a pass and found ourselves cheek and jowl with our first geothermal features.  

Yellowstone Lake will kill you in a few minutes.  While freezing on the surface, deep beneath it is riven with fissures gushing tons of super-heated water.  Its shoreline is pocked with vents belching sulfurous steam, the Yellowstone Sirens luring curious tourists ever closer.  Lured in we were. 



In typical fashion, we stopped and gawked at this newest of sights.  Only later would we realize that those few vents were less than an appetizer for what we would encounter hours down the road.  

We stopped at the Fishing Bridge visitor center, the first along our path, as is our custom.  There we chatted with the weather Rangers behind the desk about the best camping options and day hikes in the park.  We batted around suggestions and finally settled on Norris campground in the western region of the park.  No showers, but unparalleled surroundings.  Mount Washburn came highly recommended, but not anymore today, as it was best to start earlier in the day to avoid afternoon thunderstorms on the way down.  We agreed, slated that climb for tomorrow and headed to Old Faithful.



Perfect timing.  She blew up a few minutes after we arrived.  Did we really spend fifteen minutes staring at some steam vents a few hours ago? 



Once the eruption was over, we picked our way through the boardwalks criss-crossing the landscape.  Here smaller geysers grumbled and spluttered, as if discontent living in the shadow of the predictable, hot fire hose over the hill.  Red-orange bacteria mats ringed many, while others dribbled noxious liquid over terraces formed of the lime which precipitates out of the water. 








Evening drew on as we lingered over an enormous ice cream sundae at the Old Faithful General Store, and we realized our campsite was no less than an hour down the road.  Down the hatch went the ice cream.  We pulled into the campground ten minutes before the firewood vendor stopped hawking his pine.  How providential.  It got down to 30 degrees that night.  Campfire and all, we still felt cold during our first sub-freezing night of the trip. 






But we were glad for the advice we had from National Geographic.  Go to Yellowstone the last week of August.  Lowest crowds of the season.  Never fails according to the Ranger they interviewed.  He was right.  Norris campground might have been 25 percent full.  Everywhere we went the crowds were sparse and we never once sat in a wildlife traffic jam (despite seeing our fair share of elk and bison).

The morning’s hearty campfire breakfast fueled us for the hike up Washburn we planned for the morning and afternoon.  The trail wound up the mountain ridge for three miles, ascending 1400 feet for a dramatic view of Yellowstone at the fire tower observation deck. 



Along the way we encountered a pair of hoary marmots basking in the morning sun.  They were confused at our presence and after a lengthy staring match retreated under some rocks until we passed on up the ridge.  We also spotted a flock of bighorn sheep about 1/4 mile down the mountain from where we were on the trail.  Of all the wildlife we met on our trip, these were the only ones we had to view at a distance.



After descending Mt. Washburn we backtracked a few miles to the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone.  Since we’ve yet to visit the real Grand Canyon, we thrilled at the sight of a 309 foot waterfall blasting away at the river gorge below.  But we earned the view by trekking down several hundred steel stairs suspended over the canyon. 



From the Grand Canyon we drove north around the upper loop to Mammoth Hot Springs.  The springs have built tavertine (limestone-like) stone terraces laced with lazy waterways steaming themselves down the hills.  We enjoyed see yet another unique geothermal oddity, but were on our way within a half-hour. 



With the afternoon getting on we still planned to stop at the painted mud pots geyser basin before making camp.  We were at the far north end of the park and our next campsite the southernmost extreme.  We made the paint pots just as fountain geyser was exploding.



Fountain geyser  is much different that old faithful, but in some ways more entertaining.  The best way to think of it is a 20-foot-wide sinkhole of boiling water with a wave machine.  

Twice daily, 50 foot streams of hotness blast at the sky and the hills.  Unlike Old Faithful’s 1-5 minutes, this puppy goes for a half hour and you can get within 10 yards on the boardwalk.  But curmudgeons beware, if there’s any wind or Fountain feels feisty, you’ll be wet.  This guy was easily my favorite and we were happy to drive up just as it was erupting. 


From fountain we drove to the southern junction in the park and set up camp at Grant Village campground.  Mmm, pasta over the fire.  Ooops, I dropped the red sauce just as it got to temperature.  Better go buy another $3.00 twelve ounce can of sauce.  That hurts.  Not to mention they made us pay two bucks each for our 6-minute morning shower.  After 48 showerless hours, it’s a better deal than the sauce at least.  Grant rounded out our Yellowstone experience by giving us a feel for the “industrial style camping” that some Americans seem to relish. 



Bacon, egg and cheese “samich” fresh off the fire in the morning.  Now a short drive to Grand Tetons.  I leave the Tetons to Alyssa.               



 

What did you think of this article?




Trackbacks
Trackback specific URL for this entry
  • No trackbacks exist for this post.
Comments
    Display comments as (Linear | Threaded)

    Leave a comment

     Enter the above security code (required)

     Name

     Email (will not be published)

     Website

    Your comment is 0 characters limited to 3000 characters.



      
    Copyright . http://CARANDMAP.COM. All rights reserved.