Yellowstone Away From The Crowds

Prelude
Over the last couple of weeks Rosey and I were struggling with how to spend our Labor Day weekend. We both felt like getting out of town, but I was kind of dragging my feet making plans because I hate travelling on Holiday weekends. I would almost rather spend the weekend at home than spend the weekend sitting in traffic or in a park somewhere surrounded by millions of other tourists that had the same idea for their holiday weekend.

After kicking around a couple of different ideas, Yellowstone was the idea that kept coming back up. Rosey had been to Yellowstone once with her father when she was 12 years old and was dying to go back. I have passed through Yellowstone several times on the Harley but for one reason or another have not been able to spend much time actually exploring the park. So, I've been dying to get back to Yellowstone for a while myself. But, could you pick a worse a weekend to go to Yellowstone than Labor Day weekend?

I was discouraged about our prospects of even being able to find a campsite for our weekend adventure. I had waited until three days before the weekend to make the reservation and was sure that when I called up that I would be told that every campground in the park was full. At that point I was almost hoping to hear that so that I could tell Rosey that I did due dilligence in trying to plan a Labor Day Yellowstone trip but that it just didn't work out.

When I called to make the reservation, I was totally caught off guard to hear that there were still four campgrounds that had openings. I was so certain that nothing would be available that I hadn't even bothered to pick a campground that I wanted to stay in. I had to have the operator read me the list of available campgrounds and then ended up picking Bridge Bay campground just because I had stayed there once before. I had no idea whether or not it was going to work out with our plans that weekend, but I didn't feel like hanging up the phone, researching the campsite and then calling back to make the reservation.

As it began to sink in that I was actually going to get to spend a weekend in Yellowstone, I grew more and more excited. Like I mentioned, I had attempted to visit Yellowstone on three prior occasions. On one of those I had to cut my trip short due to rain, and on the other two I was just camping as I was passing through and didn't get to spend any time hiking or sightseeing because of how much time I spent just driving through the park in traffic. One thing was for sure: I wasn't going to spend another trip to Yellowstone sitting in park traffic. I was going to park the car as quickly as possible and get in as much hiking as I could.

The Journey Begins
To maximize the amount of time that we got to spend in the park on Saturday, Rosey and I packed up the car and left home around 6:00 AM on Saturday morning. Yes, we did take the car and not the bike. There were several reasons for that, but the main one was that taking the bike meant that we wouldn't be able to leave until much later in the morning because of the cold. That in turn meant that we would spend all day riding and wouldn't get to the park until late afternoon or early evening. Again, my goal for this trip was to spend as little time driving as possible and as much time as I could in the park.

We made awesome time to Yellowstone thanks to my lead foot. Does that metaphor still work now that most long trips are accomplished via cruise control?. Anyway, we were sitting at the gates of Yellowstone at 11:30 in the morning. I had been surprised how little traffic we had encountered on the trip up there. I had warned Rosey about the mass procession of cars that we were going to see lining up to get into Yellowstone for the weekend for hundreds of miles away. That's just the way that I pictured holiday traffic in Yellowstone.

Thankfully, I was wrong. We didn't hit any traffic at all until we got to the entrance of Yellowstone. And just as I was about to lament that, feeling righteously vindicated for all of the complaining that I had done about travelling on holidays, a park ranger came up to our car and told us that we could skip the entire line because I had a National Parks Pass. Holy crap, that saved us about an hour of waiting in line. That parks pass is the best $50 that I have ever spent.

From the entrace of the park, it was about 70 miles to our campsite. Yes, the park is that big. To avoid wasting all those miles just driving, I had planned on stopping at some geothermal features along the way and doing some hiking and sight-seeing.

A Rocky Start
And here is where I made my first mistake of the trip. I sometimes feel bad that I make all of the plans when I travel with Rosey. I wonder if she feels left out or if she is just a passive participant in our adventures. So, I decided that I would ask her what her plans were. At first, she was unprepared to answer that question, she hadn't really thought about it. But after spending a couple of minutes studying the park newspaper she proclaimed, "I want to go to Mammoth Hot Springs; I think that may have been where my Dad took me when I was younger".

"Ahh Fuck", I thought to myself. Mammoth Hot Springs was at the very North tip of the park. To get there and then to our campground afterwards meant adding about 120 miles of driving. At an average speed of 30 miles per hour, that meant adding another 4 hours of driving on top of the five hours that I had already driven to get to the park. But more than anything it annoyed me because it meant spending yet another trip in Yellowstone driving rather than hiking. When I had asked what she wanted to do, what I really meant was, "What do you want to do along the route that I had already planned?".

I tried to gently persuade her, but she was resolute. After all, I had just hassled her about contributing to the plans. How could I do that and then criticize her for the plans that she came up with. So, I begrudgingly turned the car North and we proceeded up to Mammoth Hot Springs.

In retrospect I should have just explained to her how important it was to me to not spend this whole trip driving through the park. But I wasn't quite that smart. Instead, I just clammed up and started to act all sullen. In short, I kind of made that section of the trips miserable by acting like a child that didn't get his way. This, in turn, put Rosey in a bad mood and made for an uncomfortable afternoon.

The afternoon, however, wasn't a total wash. Even amongst our bickering silence we managed to stop at a waterfall on the Gibbon River for lunch, do a short hike through the Artist's paint pots, and explore the Mammoth Hot Springs area.



The Beaver Ponds
While in Mammoth Hot Springs, I stopped by the visitor's center to get some ideas for hikes. I like to ask the rangers what their favorite hikes in the park are. A lot of the time you will get an answer that is different than what the park literature says. Rangers will often suggest hikes that are more off the beaten path but still lead to some of the most beautiful areas of the park. That is how Rosey and I ended up at Chasm Lake at Rocky Mountain National Park.

Upon asking this particular Ranger in Yellowstone, I got a blank stare. She didn't seem to understand what I was asking. Instead of giving me personal information about her favorite hike she started to give me the reading-from-the-park-manual hiking script about what hikes were available. I reiterated that I was hoping to get some personal suggestions to which she responded that there were a thousand miles of hiking trails in the park and that she hadn't been on all of them.

"But, surely you've been on some of them, haven't you? Don't you have a favorite of the ones that you have been on?". This was starting to feel like pulling teeth. "Well, I like all of the hikes that I've been on for different reasons, I couldn't really pick a favorite". At this point, I was less concerned about getting hiking suggestions and more amused by the interaction. It was just so strange. I pressed her further and did finally get her to point out a couple of hikes for me.

One of the hikes was in the Mammoth Hot Springs area and started right near where we were. Rosey was interested in checking out the hot springs, but I was dying to get on the trail. I felt like I had bent enough, just driving all the way up here. Now it was Rosey's turn to be flexible and do something that I wanted in return. She responded precisely the way that I had earlier... that is, she agreed with only slight hesitation but then seemed to be really sullen about it. It turns out that she really wanted to see more of the Hot Springs.

Not surprisingly, the hike that was reccommended by the flakey ranger was underwhelming. I was still glad for the opportunity to stretch out my legs and my lungs on the trail but this was certainly not the most beautiful hike that I had been on. In fact, you might not have even guessed that you were in Yellowstone National Park. That hike could have been in a hundred other places with rolling hills, sage brush and dry meadows... or so I thought at first. It turns out that the beaver ponds at the far end of the hike were pretty cool. Not spectacular, but still pretty cool. And the wooded areas of the hike were pretty nice too.



The best thing about the hike was that it got us away from the crowds. The park ranger did give me one good piece of advice. When I asked her how to find some spots in Yellowstone that weren't overrun by people, she responded, "Get half a mile down any trail in the park and you'll be in relative solitude. Very few people ever get out of their car or off the boardwalk in Yellowstone".

By the end of the hike, I was in much better spirits. In addition to the positive mental effects of a little vigorous exercise, I felt like I had finally beaten my Yellowstone traffic curse. I had finally done some hiking in Yellowstone. Rosey, on the other hand, still felt slighted by the whole experience. It wasn't until later that night, that we talked it through and agreed that the whole incident was a case study in the effects of poor communication. The whole scenario could have been avoided had we both been more vocal about our feelings. We vowed that we wouldn't let the same thing happen the next day.

Food Is Better in Montana
I don't know why, but food always tastes better when you're camping. Maybe it's because after hiking all day you feel like you've really earned your meal, maybe it's because you have to work that much harder to cook when you are working with primitive camp cookery, maybe it's because I'm a damned good camp chef, or maybe (Chris, this is for you) food just tastes better in Montana. I'm not sure exactly what the case was, but our meal on Saturday night was awesome. We had ginger teriyaki glazed salmon, fresh steamed broccoli, baby carrots and sugar snap peas, and cheddar broccoli long grain rice. Some people don't eat that good at home, much less while they are camping :)

Spectacular, Spectacular
Sunday started out much better than our Saturday had. Despite the temperatures dropping below freezing overnight, I managed to stay warm and comfortable and slept like a baby. In fact, I don't remember the last time that I slept that well. I woke with the sun around 6:30 in the morning and got up to make breakfast while Rosey slept in a bit longer.

My goal for that day, and really one of my major goals of the trip, was to make it to the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. In all of the previous times that I had been through the park, I had managed to miss what is one of the most spectacular areas of the park to visit. Behind Old Faithful it is probably the most popular area of the park. The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone is a massive canyon created by the Yellowstone river which is highlighted by the grandiose Upper Yellowstone Waterfall. If I did nothing else on this trip, I was going to see this waterfall.

When I imagined visiting the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, I imagined that there would be a hiking trail that took you down into the canyon and right up to the waterfall. I was almost disappointed to discover when I looked at the trail maps that the waterfall was only accessible from various vista points and that all of those vista points were accessible by car. I guess that I'm kind of an elitist in that sense. I believe that the most beautiful areas of any park should only be accessible by people that are willing to work for them.

I did discover, however, that there was a hiking trail that started at one of the vista points and approached the waterfall from the canyon rim. You never really got all that close but there were still some pretty good views. It wasn't exactly what I had imagined, but it was going to have to do. So, after eating a good hearty breakfast, we jumped in the car and drove out to the Artist's Point vista.

The falls and the canyon were breathtaking. Seriously, this ranks among some of the most beautiful places that I have been. The thing that I love about National Parks is the sense of awe and grandeur that you get. Prior to seeing this view, I hadn't really felt that in Yellowstone. Sure, Old Faithful and the geothermal features were cool, but they didn't inspire awe in me like the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. This was awesome!



7 Mile Hole
As we were leaving the vista point and getting ready to start our hike, Rosey stopped to read one of the interpretive signs. The sign was about the colors in the canyon, but there was a tiny sidebar with a picture of a guy next to thermal feature and a caption that mentioned something about a hike that went down into the canyon. A hike that went down into the canyon? We looked it up on the trail map and sure enough there it was: 7 Mile Hole Trail. Ironically, the 7 mile hole trail was actually 11 miles long. Ouch, an 11 mile hike. That's not exactly the type of hike that you just tackle on a whim... or is it?

One of the things that I love about Rosey, is that she is the type of girl that when you suggest an impromptu 11 mile hike that is rated as "extremely strenuous" she responds with, "Let's Do It!", instead of, "What, are you out of your fucking mind?", like I imagine most girls would :) Fortunately for me, Rosey is not most girls.

We packed up our hiking pack with plenty of water, some peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, and a water filtration kit and headed out on the trail. Oh, and yes, this is the same backpack that I frequently make fun of Rosey for packing because we would never need a pack that big on a short day hike. I guess I got to eat my words on that one. Having a pack that big really came in handy. Although, somehow, once we reach a certain weight threshold, it becomes my responsibility to carry the pack instead of Rosey's. Doh!

The hike turned out to be a lot of fun and not as difficult as either of us imagined it would be. We attributed the relative ease with which we accomplished the hike to all of the hiking that we've been doing lately at high elevations. The hike was listed as 11 miles with an average completion time of 6 to 8 hours. According to my GPS the hike was 13 miles long (due to some extra mileage that we added at the end) and we completed it in almost exactly 5 hours. 5 hours! Wow, that's an hour less than the low estimate and that included a whole hour that we spent at the river while eating lunch. We kick ass!

The hike was incredible and really was the highlight of the whole trip for me. The first four miles or so we walked along the canyon rim in a forested area. The grade was mostly level and Rosey and I were just blazing through this area. We averaged about 4 miles an hour. Had we been going any faster we would have been jogging.

Next the trail started a steep descent down rocky and narrow switchbacks into the canyon. We dropped over 1400 feet in about a mile and a half. That's roughly a 20% grade. After the steep descent, we walked through an active (i.e. smelly) geothermal area. It was kind of cool to go through so many different kinds of terrain on one hike. Finally, we descended the last couple of hundred feet through another wooded area down to the canyon bottom and the Yellowstone River.


It was gorgeous! And the best part was that we were nearly alone. With millions of people in the park that weekend we managed to get to an area of the park that was only inhabited by one other bright couple who had figured out the secret to a secluded Yellowstone. We hiked half mile down river so as to avoid cramping their style and, of course, to prevent them from cramping ours. We found a nice flat, secluded rock and... made lunch :) Yum, peanut butter sandwiches.


The hike didn't come without it's casualties. Rosey's feet were a war-zone. I think that 8 out of 10 of her toes had gotten blisters on the descent and even a few blisters on the top of her foot. Luckily there weren't any on her heels though. Maybe this was some weird karmic retribution for the blisters that I got while wearing her shoes last weekend :) But she was a trooper; she wrapped up her toes with band-aids and medical tape and completed the hike without hardly even complaining. Wow!

The Geothermal Zone
By the end of our hike we were both pretty beat. But, it was only 3 in the afternoon and we wanted to make the most out of our visit to Yellowstone. So, we decided that after a short stop back at our campsite for a snack and a change of clothes that we would head up to the Old Faithful Geyser basin to check out some of the geothermal features.

I know you're probably thinking, "Dan, you asshole. Rosey goes on a 13 mile hike with you but that's not good enough; you need to drag her on another couple of miles of sight-seeing trails". Well, I can assure you that wasn't the case. Although I did want to see the geothermal areas as well, it was primarily Rosey's motivation and desire that kept us moving and exploring despite our fatigue.

I was glad that we went, because we got to see some pretty cool thermal pools and geysers. Some of the colors were unbelievable. Did you know, by the way, that the colors are caused by bacteria in the water and not by mineral desposits? We did brief walk-through tours of Biscuit Basin, Black Sand Basin and even made a stop by Old Faithful.



Ironically, neither of us were that interested in seeing Old Faithful itself. We were more interested in seeing the thermal pools in the basin behind Old Faithful. So, we walked right past the main attraction and started down the boardwalk to the other thermal features.

Exhaustion Finally Wins
This particular boardwalk went on for several miles. We slowly trudged down it as if compelled to keep moving by some external force. After about a mile and a half of this drudgery, we finally stopped and asked each other why we were punishing ourselves like this. We had already seen so much that day and we were both so tired and hungry. It was time to go back to back to camp and it was time to get something to eat. And so we did, and we did.

Dinner that night didn't live up to the Salmon of the previous night, but it was still pretty damned good. We had grilled steaks rubbed with Montreal Steak seasoning, with more steamed vegetables and some sesame chicken rice. Ok, so the rice on both nights came pre-made in a packet that you only had to add water to. I'm still counting it as campfire gourmet.

Rosey turned in early that night, while I stayed up a little later to watch the fire burn. I love campfires. I love to just sit and watch the flames flicker. I love the way it makes shadows dance on the pine trees that surrounded our campground. I even love nearly suffocating when the smoke invariably finds me no matter where I stand, because I know that it means that my clothes will be infused with the oh-so-wonderful smell of campfire for the next couple of days.

What I hate is having to put out a fire prematurely by dumping water on it. It feels a little bit like taking a life; like depriving the fire of it's right to burn to ashes; preventing the wood from fulfilling it's purpose, it's destiny. This night, I was determined not to let that happen, I watched until all of the wood burned down to coals before I joined Rosey in bed.

The Ride Home
We took our time on the way out of the park on Monday morning. We did a little more sight-seeing in the fountain paint pots area before finally leaving the park. Ironically, we never did find the area of the park that Rosey visited when she was younger. At least we don't think that we did. In my opinion, I think that we did actually visit the same spot but 17 years of park changes on top of 17 years of aging warped her memory of the park beyond present day recognition. We may never know the truth... well, unless her Dad can remember :)

The ride home was fairly uneventful but there was more much more traffic on the road than we had encountered on the way into the park. It still wasn't enough to justify my paranoia about travelling on a holiday. All in all, the trip was a huge success and turned out much better than I could have expected for a Labor Day Yellowstone weekend.

The End. Oh yeah, the rest of the pictures are here.