Wyoming - Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons!

The Tetons - Jenny Lake & Mount Moran



Yellowstone - Palette Springs

I begin the day in the tiny town of Gardiner, Montana, population 846! Gardiner is the Northwest entrance to Yellowstone and appears to be solely a tourist town. However, it is not an upscale tourist town, rather a small, rustic village. The main "thoroughfare" is no longer than one mile long. There are no traffic lights, and I only see a couple of stop signs. Except for the gas stations, it looks like an old western town. I enjoy the feel. It is 55 degrees when I head out. I am delighted that the sky is totally blue, no clouds, but disappointed that a wildfire burning in the Park has caused the vistas to be hazy with smoke. It may not be a good photography day. If the smoke does not blow off with the wind, it will be difficult for those who plan to stay and play in Yellowstone, as the smoke is thick and acrid. I head south into Mammoth Hot Springs, stopping only long enough to take a couple of photographs of Electric Peak and Sepulchre, the two mountains which tower over Gardiner from the west. Then I briefly capture some shots in Mammoth of colorful Palette Spring.

Yellowstone - Swan Lake

Just south of Mammoth I find pretty little Swan Lake, in the middle of a large, flat grassland. Swan Lake Flats is ringed by Electric Peak and Sepulchre to the north and Mt. Holmes, Dome Mountain, Antler Peak, and Quadrant Mountain to the west, all part of the Gallatin Mountains. I wander down to the lake, and spend a bit of time in this area. The smoke is to the east, leaving these mountains and grasslands clear. The sky is blue, it is 58 degrees, there is a breeze blowing, and the grasses glow gold in the morning light. I sigh with contentment. What a great beginning to the day. I continue south, enjoying the continuous glow of the day. Autumn has obviously arrived. The grasses are various shades of gold, aspens are turning yellow, various bushes and other ground coverings glow red and orange. And the sun sits low on the horizon, highlighting the colors with its warm rays.

I went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in. —John Muir

Yellowstone - Aspen amid the young
lodgepole pine

I soon begin driving through acres of forests, composed primarily of lodgepole pines. However, it is evident that there has been a catastrophe at some point, as miles and miles of hillside are composed of dead trees, some still standing, some lying flat on the ground. In many areas there are young pines, approximately 6-10 feet tall, growing among the dead trunks. Signs indicate that there were two fires which devastated this area, one in 1976 and another in 1988. Fire is generally not as devastating as it might be for lodgepole pines. Apparently fire opens the cones of the parent trees and spreads the seeds, allowing young lodgepole pines to spring up not long after a fire. These forests were full of new growth from the 1976 fire when the 1988 conflagration swept through. However, the young pines were not hardy enough to withstand the inferno, and whole mountains were wiped clear. Rangers were unsure whether or not these stands would regenerate. Happily, they have begun to grow, though it will be many years before mature forests exist once again.

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit. --Robert Louis Stevenson



Yellowstone - Berryl Spring

I know from Park literature that I am now inside the caldera. The caldera is a 30 by 45 mile wide basin created by collapse of the land when the last volcano erupted 640,000 years ago. (How do they know that, that it was precisely 640,000 years ago?) Driving down the road I see steam rising from the ground! In some places there are puddles of boiling water, flanked by warning signs! More steam rises from the water at the edges of some of the rivers. I do not play in the water here, concerned that it might be scalding. In many areas the ground is white and bare, with no ground cover growing beneath the trees. In some areas there are no trees even. The heat and minerals which bubble up from below destroy the living organisms. I skip the numerous geyser basins today, wanting to get into Grand Teton National Park before it gets too late. However I think on the fact that I am wandering inside an active volcano. There is even a website dedicated to documenting the numerous minor earthquakes that take place here in Yellowstone each day. I do stop to photograph Berryl Springs at the Gibbon River. This hot spring is colored aquamarine from the bacteria and bubbles up vigorously. A vent at the side of the spring blows noisily, as steam escapes under great pressure. I hope the pressure holds until I return home . . .

Yellowstone - Firehole River

The Gibbon River heads to the west and is replaced instead by Firehole River which now parallels the road. The autumn sun accents gold and orange bushes growing at the edge of the river. The colors are intense, vivid green trees, bright orange bushes, deep blue sky and water. Sometimes I stop and just sit, stirred by what I see. Fly fisherman practice their artistry; I am a good audience, appreciative of their skills, and I surreptitiously take photographs. I am reminded again of the book and movie A River Runs Through It.

Yellowstone - Firehole Fisherman

Below him was the multitudinous river, and, where the rock had parted it around him, big-grained vapor rose. The mini-molecules of water left in the wake of his line made momentary loops of gossamer, disappearing so rapidly in the rising big-grained vapor that they had to be retained in memory to be visualized as loops. The spray emanating from him was finer-grained still and enclosed him in a halo of himself. The halo of himself was always there and always disappearing, as if he were candlelight flickering about three inches from himself. The images of himself and his line kept disappearing into the rising vapors of the river, which continually circles to the tops of the cliffs where, after becoming a wreath in the wind, they became rays of the sun. —Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

Yellowstone - Lewis River

At this southwest edge of Yellowstone, the forests are now flat, no mountains in the near distance. But these are large, mature trees. There is no evidence of past fire down here. I cross the continental divide three times. I am surprised to see that I am at altitudes of 8,262 and 8,391 feet. I thought there were no mountains in this area - apparently I do not see them because I am on top of them! Occasional lakes open at the side of the road. I stop at each to play . . . Lewis Lake is rather large. It has an interesting bed made of black gravel, in which are scattered various colored stones. I see large fallen trees on the lake bottom. Just past Lewis Lake I discover Lewis Falls, 20 feet high, accented by colorful aspen. Then around the bend Lewis River is lined by crimson colored bushes that emit a sweet smell. I don’t know what they are. I want to know what they are! There is so much to know.

Yellowstone - Lewis Falls

All there is to thinking is seeing something noticeable which makes you see something you weren't noticing which makes you see something that isn't even visible.  —Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It



Yellowstone - Lewis Lake



Yellowstone - Lewis Lake



The Tetons

Soon I leave Yellowstone and drive a short distance down John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Memorial Highway before entering the Grand Teton National Park. We have John D. to thank for much of the Park. When Congress deadlocked on decisions about inclusion of certain lands, John D. quietly bought up 35,000 acres of farm and ranch land which he then donated for an expanded Park. Thank you John D. Soon I am gratified to see peaks rising in the distance. And very soon I round a corner and discover Jackson Lake, across from which are the magnificent jagged peaks of the Grand Tetons. These are Connie’s mountains, and they are as awesome as she has described. I have never been in this Park before, and I know I will enjoy making it mine.

Tetons - Mount Moran

I had not made reservations at a hotel in this area, not knowing where I would be when night fell. It is 3:30 and I’d like to have accommodations settled. I stop at Jackson Lake Lodge and ask if they have a room for the night. There are no lodge rooms "with a view," but they do have cabins available. The cabins actually are much like motel rooms, except they are constructed of weathered wood and sit under the trees on each side of the lodge. The desk clerk tells me that rooms are normally $225 per night. He then adds, "But I can do $179 . . ." Well, I guess I can "do" $170/night also for this special trip, given that when I checked before leaving Florida, rooms in nearby Jackson were running at a minimum of $150/night. I say I’ll take it.  Then I begin exploring.

The Tetons & Outwash Plain

I discover numerous pulloffs that display the mountains against various foreground. The road runs through "outwash plain" composed primarily of sagebrush, dotted with arrowleaf balsamroot, larkspur, lupine, and other low plants. The road also runs beside pine forest which edge up to the base of the mountains or to pretty little mountain lakes. It is so delightful to play among lakes which are not lined by houses and docks! I discover Jenny Lake, and wander among the boulders at the water’s edge, gazing in awe at the Tetons rising from the far side of the lake. I find the Snake River, that grand old lady that has her headwaters in Yellowstone, heads south into Wyoming, runs wide through Idaho and Washington, then joins the Columbia before she exits into the Pacific. I discover ranch land dotted with stands of aspen glowing in the late day’s sunlight.

And as I begin to tire, I find Dornans, where Connie and family spend many weeks each summer. Connie has told me numerous stories of Dornans, a crossroads "community" that, together with the Grand Teton Park Service, compose Moose, Wyoming. Dornans consists of about a dozen cabins, a small store, and a small restaurant owned by the same family since the land was originally homesteaded, five generations ago. I am delighted to be able to relax on the deck on the top of the building, resting my sated self for an hour or so, thinking over my last few days and planning for tomorrow. I toast Connie with a glass of merlot.  And I sit and think.  I think funny thoughts. I think that I know it’s been a good one when there are no flush toilets to be found once I leave the hotel early in the day. I know it’s been an even better day when I have to pee in the woods at least once. It’s been a very good day! And I think mysterious thoughts. I think that I feel at home here, even though I’ve never visited this area before. But it seems that I feel at home in most wild areas I am fortunate to wander, like the Beartooth and Yellowstone yesterday, or the Smokies and the Olympic Peninsula. I wonder what it is that draws me so to wild land? I do know that were John Muir still alive, I would ask him to marry me, no matter his age. And then I would accompany him on all his travels. 

Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, inciting at once to work and rest! Days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. Nevermore, however weary, should one faint by the way who gains the blessings of one mountain day; whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm, he is rich forever. —John Muir

It is good.

Donna

© September 19, 2010