Waterfalls and Canyons

It was pure serendipity that led me to a smartphone app that, totally, made my visit: the GyPSy Guide for Yellowstone National Park. It's a brilliant idea: guiding you through the park, using your GPS location to trigger the narration along the way. It was worth every penny (and then some).

Undine Falls was a quick stop I likely would have missed, otherwise.

Ditto for a petrified tree, part of a redwood forest that flourished here 50 million years ago. It's fenced in to discourage visitors from prying any more samples loose.

There was road work in progress on a key section of the Grand Loop Road through the park, with one-way traffic controls at 30-minute intervals. Traveling clockwise was the solution. I saw a lone bison grazing in a field a couple of times, but saw a herd only once. I was also fortunate never to encounter an animal jam on the road.

A trail ride might have been fun, but advanced reservations are recommended.

I visited Tower Fall, hiking down to the level of the river. It turned out that the best view was only at the top (as the signage indicated). This was the one time that the GyPSy Guide let me down. Along the way, I passed a notice dating to 2013 stating that the trail (leading to an apparent vista point) was closed; I suspect the hillside slid out. It was a nice hike, anyway.

Wait, a hike? What about those bears?

There were enough people clambering around here that I deemed the risk low, even though technically I was not a group of three. (This would be my strategy for the rest of the trip.) Since the trail down was steep, and didn't promise a better view of the falls, it wasn't clogged with tourists. [Just right.]

Soon my GyPSy narrator mentioned that Chittenden Road was coming up on the left, and would lead part of the way up toward Mt. Washburn (one of the highest peaks in the park). “It's a dirt road,” he explained, but perfectly fine in an ordinary car if there hasn't been recent weather to tear it up.

“All right!” he exclaimed. “I see we've made the turn. Now I'll tell you a little more.”

There were a couple of people coming down the trail from the summit, but I stayed on the lower slope; the gusts were strong. I needed to angle my body into the wind, or simply crouch down, to avoid being blown over. That strong.

I had a good vantage point to view the smoke from the Buffalo fire, and during the short window I spent there, the winds whipped it up. A huge cloud of gray smoke suddenly billowed up beyond the ridge to the north.

My plan today was to explore the Canyon area of the park. Heeding my narrator's advice, I headed first for the south rim of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, to view the Upper Yellowstone Falls before continuing to Artist Point.

Of course I had to take Uncle Tom's Trail, starting at an elevation of 8,000 feet and descending 328 steps down (and back up) the side of the canyon for the best views. I counted the steps on the return trip—it helped me understand where I was, and I didn't feel a need to rest. On the climb, I reassured people that it was worth the descent (even if they couldn't go all the way).

The north rim, with its view of the Lower Falls and more of the canyon, was next. The farthest vista spot, Inspiration Point, was closed; but I took in the view from the rest (Red Rock, Lookout, Grand View). Overall, I managed to hike another three miles today; I didn't track the elevation gain, but there was quite a bit of that.

The late-afternoon light amplified the colors, though some of the canyon was already deep in shadow.

Having decided that I preferred spending time sightseeing more than eating, a sandwich from the Canyon General Store was my dinner.

The light was fading as I headed back toward Gardiner. Instead of backtracking, I headed west to continue my clockwise route along the Grand Loop. As it turned out, this was perfect: with road construction paused for the night, there was no delay (and new sights).

Seeing people out of their cars at the side of the road, I pulled over. Elk, grazing in a field.

In the Mammoth area, there was an elk nursing her calf right on the lawn, thrilling a small crowd nearby. (She moved on before I could stop for a photo.)

Yellowstone, with its reputation for hordes of visitors (more than 3.8 million in 2015), and for visitors doing foolish things, hadn't been high on the list of National Parks I wanted to visit.

I was wrong about that, and now most grateful to be setting that right.

Mammoth Hot Springs

The north entrance to Yellowstone National Park was so close to my hotel that I could easily have walked there—across the state line, into Wyoming. I considered doing that, to buy my entrance pass, but I arrived early enough in the afternoon that there was ample time to start exploring.

My hotel was right on the Yellowstone River. My hopes of drifting off to sleep to the sound of rushing water were dashed by thick smoke from multiple fires burning within the park—best to keep the windows closed.

The guide books counsel that most park visitors never stray off the boardwalks, if they do get out of their vehicles at all; words to the wise for those who wish to avoid the crowds.

But then they caution that you should always hike in groups of three or more people, make lots of noise, and carry bear spray. [So go figure.]

Sadly, looks like it will be the boardwalks and crowded vistas for me. I am a group of one, not three. A canister of bear spray costs $50 (and you can neither ship it nor carry it with you on a plane). The locals hike with guns, not bear spray. Think about it: If the bear didn't smell you, you're downwind of the bear. If you're downwind of the bear, who's gonna get end up getting sprayed?

I stopped at the nearest visitor center, part of the Mammoth Hot Springs Historic District. The lush green lawns attract elk, the elk attract people. The people were pretty well-behaved; the animals seemed unconcerned. Especially as they clustered around the red signs posted: Danger, do not approach animals.

Parking looked chaotic closer to the hot springs. What's a little more walking, after biking some 500 miles? I left the car where it was.

I wandered around the boardwalks, up and down, fascinated by the features of the various hot springs. By the time I was done, I'd covered about three miles.

Yellowstone sits within a giant volcanic caldera, and these places where the planet gives us a hint of the molten, super-heated layers within are humbling. Day to day we go about our business on terra firma, all too easily forgetting that we're not simply spinning around the sun on a solid chunk of rock.

The smoke contributed a post-apocalyptic feel, and colored the sunset.

The crowds thinned out at the upper levels, above the travertine terraces. [Climb stairs? At altitude?] A boy ran ahead of his parents. “This is tiring!” he complained to me. I laughed; he looked to be all of four years old.

Unintentionally, my timing was spot on. Colors were intense in the early evening light, and families headed for dinner.

Dining options in Gardiner hadn't looked exciting, so I chose a bison burger before leaving the park. [Indistinguishable from beef, to my tastebuds.]

Looking forward to a full day, tomorrow.