Smoke, Steam, and Sulfur

My goal today was to meander over to Old Faithful, fitting in a couple of stops I missed yesterday and covering some new territory. To avoid the road construction delays, I still needed to travel the loop clockwise—not the most direct route to reach Old Faithful.

I arrived at Dunraven Pass, the other side of Mt. Washburn, around the time I needed to stretch my legs. It was less windy today, so ... of course I had to go up. The parking lot was nearly full; there was plenty of activity on the trail.

This chipmunk appeared to be working on a sun salutation. Looked like an open invitation to feed an eagle, to me, but there weren't many birds in the air.

The elevation at the start is apparently around 8,859 feet. The altitude wasn't bothering me, but I took my time. No need to rush. There is a building at the summit, a tiny bump on the peak to the left in the next photo.

The views were not great, with all the smoke hanging in the air, but it was still a good workout. The summit was marked: 10,213 feet. An upper segment of the trail, following the ridge, was a prominent sight.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I reached the top, so I was happy that we were welcome to enter the building, where there were some displays (and a logbook to sign!). I recorded the route as I hiked back down. I wasn't planning to do a long hike, but it was 7.4 miles round-trip, gaining more than 1,300 feet in elevation. By the end of the day, I would cover nine miles, and my legs were feeling it. [Note to self: do more hiking to cross-train.]

There were the remnants of a paved road up there, and a fence (weighted against the wind with wire baskets of rocks) to mark a stretch where the land slid out. Nothing fancy, but I suspect that's not a problem because the people who make it this far are hardy folks with common sense. [Not the tourists who treat every park like Disneyland.]

Near the summit, we were rewarded with the sight of a small herd of pronghorn. I was surprised to learn that they're more closely related to the giraffe than to the antelope. They can run fast, for a long distance; but this group was just grazing, keeping a wary eye on the humans.

There weren't many wildflowers this late in the season, but with a little patience I snapped a photo of a butterfly. The ecosystem has its share of small creatures, too.

After lunch at the Canyon General Store, I ventured south. Thermal features are particularly concentrated in this part of the park, and I stopped to check out a few. The Churning Caldron is a bubbling mud pool with a small geyser spouting pretty regularly.

A reminder of the dynamic earth just below the surface was a steaming hole fenced off in the parking lot.

I continued to the Lake Village area and Pumice Point for a shoreline view across the vast expanse of Yellowstone Lake. A lone bald eagle soared offshore.

I was headed for the West Thumb Geyser Basin, which is right on the shore of the lake.

There are plenty of signs warning visitors to stay on the boardwalk, because the area around the springs is often just a thin crust of minerals deposited above a pool of boiling acidic water. And of course I wouldn't think of stepping off. But I was amused to see an elk grazing nearby, and tracks (and scat) through much of the area. If it were winter, I could understand that the animals sought the warmth around the springs. But now? I wondered what would attract them here, with its sparse vegetation, toxic gases, and pools of acidic mud. Somehow they don't break through the crust. [Or, maybe, sometimes they do?]

A family passed. “Are we going to see stinky stuff every day?” asked a child. [Yup.]

There wasn't time to linger, though, if I wanted to fit in a visit to Old Faithful.

Seeing the famous geyser was not at the top of my list of sights-not-to-missed in Yellowstone. Frankly, it felt like a cliché. But then, I'm here ... how can I not see it? That just seemed wrong.

My timing was (im)perfect ... the parking lot was packed, but the crowds were headed for their cars. That plume I'd glimpsed rising above the rooftop as I pulled in was, of course, the geyser erupting.

The next eruption would be around 8:20 p.m., give or take 10 minutes. Waiting would mean driving 70 miles back to Gardiner through the park (in the dark), which seemed foolhardy.

My GyPSy guide was emphatic about visiting the lobby of the Old Faithful Inn. “I'm not going to say anything more. Just do it.”

So I did. [He was right.]

By the time I had a snack and whatnot, it would be close to 8 p.m. and I'd be driving back in the dark anyway.

I took a seat. Perhaps this was meant to be: at this hour, there was no crowd. The sun would set at 8:14 p.m.

The geyser steams away, in wisps and puffs and occasional blasts. As the pressure builds, it throws up small spouts of water.

At 8:30 p.m., on schedule, Old Faithful erupted. [It was worth it.]

As I headed for my car, I convinced myself that there would be other cars on the road. Most of them were headed for West Yellowstone, of course; the nearest exit. Once in the lead, I carefully scanned left and right, right and left, for wildlife. Headlights can't help around corners, so I took the curves particularly slowly.

A pair of cars heading south temporarily impaired my night vision; they were moving very slowly. I soon saw why.

There was a big animal in the road ... was it a moose? [Nope.]

A huge bison was ambling up the road. In my lane, traveling in the right direction. His taillights were out.