Wednesday, Snowfall in Yellowstone

I‘ve been here three days, and I’ve seen three seasons in the parks.  Monday saw clear skies and warm weather.  Tuesday saw rain and cool autumn temperatures.  Today, snow!

Gus and I had an early start today, driving early to Yellowstone.  Just north of the Grand Teton/Yellowstone southern entrance we encountered strong snow in the mountains.  I ran into a few people, and they all commented, “what a perfect day.”  The pictures don’t do the scene justice.

Today was largely a driving day, with us continuing northward to the Upper Falls of GCoY.  We encountered a few herds of buffalo.  What does it say when herds of buffalo crossing the road becomes a non-event to you?  I love that these animals have no fear of man.  This is how it was 200 years ago, and despite all the things we have done elsewhere in the country, wastefully hunting millions of buffalo for their hides and leaving the carcasses we have this sanctuary where the animals can still roam freely.

We reached the Lower Falls at GCoY.  Not as impressive as the Lower Falls, but still scenic.

After the Lower Falls, we headed towards Mammoth.  It’s a long drive, and I had no expectation of the town.  Yellowstone has been on my ”places to visit before I die” because of the trees, wildlife, and proximity to Grand Teton.  I didn’t know Mammoth was part of Yellowstone.  Heck, I didn’t know what a Mammoth was (other than a furry elephant).  Turns out Mammoth is Mammoth Springs, which is the plateau of springs that sit above the town of Mammoth.  There is an elephant looking thing in the springs, which has formed over the millennia from the sediment in the springs.

Mammoth itself was shut down.  This was the original town in Yellowstone, adjacent to the original entrance.  Ft. Yellowstone is here.  The USPS has an office here.  I’ve visited the western forts from the late 1800′s, and it had that same feel. 

I headed to Gardiner, which is only a few miles north of Mammoth, but a thousand feet down via a 7% grade, winding road.  I had lunch in this phenomenal little deli called the Sawtooth Deli and Cafe.  A little establishment, not 15 feet wide by 20 feet deep (for seating), but entirely filled.  An old man in a blanket was sitting out front in a rocking chair.  I had the daily special (always pick the special), consisting of diced black beans, seasoned mexican rice, jalapeno spiced chips (sticking in the black beans), a fresh burrito, and a mango corn salsa, accompanied with a local microbrew.  $11.  It was so fresh and light.  Wonderful.  I went back and left a few bucks for a tip.  If you transported the place to a Chicago or New York, it’d be legendary.

As I was leaving, the man in the chair asked me about my co-pilot (sitting 10 feet away).  Turns out this man, Jim Cole, has been living in the area for all 80 years of his life.  Jim provided me with a history of the area, including some of his work with the park.  He surveyed the number of people camping in the wilderness in 1959, and in 1961 tracked the elk migration.  Both Summers were spent on horseback in the back woods, and yet Jim said he still finds things he hasn’t seen in Yellowstone before.

Jim gave me a few tips on drives to make around Gardiner, including the original routes into the park and from the train station.  I followed his recommendations, and Gus and I found ourselves travelling down the bumpiest road and cross this 100 year old, rusted bridge over the Yellowstone River.  The valley further down the river seemed to call us to go further, but we finally turned around and headed back into the park.  We re-entered through the original gates of the park, whose cornerstone was laid by Theodore Roosevelt.  It’s an odd sight, out of place in the space, but important for its symbolism.  That gate was the beginning of our national park system.

Gus and I continued back through Yellowstone, heading towards Jackson.  We stopped one last time at the Old Faithful General Store, and continued our trek.

We leave Jackson tomorrow for Rapid City.  Lewis and Clark only touched the border of the park, but didn’t believe the outrageous claims of the local Indians.  It was only when Colter returned from St. Louis that the park began to be explored.

The Indians referred to Yellowstone as a mystical, spiritual space.  There is something greater than just the scenery here.  There is this tranquil sense that affects everything, from the wildlife to the visitors.  Perhaps the geysers are spraying something other than sulfur, but I’ll miss this place.   

Bookmark & Share