Yellowstone National Park

Position: 45°01’46.1″N 110°42’19.6″W

In the spring of 1808, no one at Fort Raymond quite believed John Colter’s stories of boiling mudpots, seething water pools, shooting geysers and sulphurous fumaroles. Colter had just returned from a winter-long solo expedition across the region that is now Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. He probably wasn’t the first white man to see the natural wonders of Yellowstone, but he was the first to bring back stories of Hell on Earth. As a veteran of Lewis and Clark’s 1804 expedition to map America west of the Mississippi River, Colter was not given to fabrication.

Colter had left the fort he had helped construct in October 1807 with a goal of establishing trade with the Crow nation. That winter, with temperatures regularly dipping as low as -30F, he travelled over 500 miles. An expert hunter, trapper and the prototypical mountain man, he understood wilderness exploration and its risks. Thus, despite his story’s apparent outlandishness, Colter was viewed as a credible witness. After all, he had been praised for his expeditionary work by none other than Thomas Jefferson. Over time his stories were corroborated and an area of hot springs along the Shoshone River near Cody, Wyoming, became known as Colter’s Hell as a mark of acknowledgement.

But wait, there’s more…

Two years later, Colter and another member of Lewis and Clark’s expedition, John Potts, clashed with the Blackfeet while trying to build trade in the region. This wasn’t the first time Colter had run-ins with the Blackfeet. Potts was killed and Colter captured. After a council and deliberation, Colter, stripped naked, was told by the Blackfeet to run [for his life]. He didn’t hesitate.

Fast on his feet, Colter soon outran all but one of his pursuers. The two men faced off and Colter prevailed. Stealing a blanket from his dead assailant, he continued running for a further five miles. At the Madison River he took shelter in a beaver lodge and, escaping detection, stole away into the night.

Colter returned to St. Louis in 1810 and reunited with Clark who was working on a map of the Yellowstone region. His route through the wilderness was later included in Clark’s map published in 1814. That map would be the standard reference for the next 75 years. When the War of 1812 broke out, Colter enlisted. He died, possibly of jaundice, in 1812 or 1813, at the age of 37 (give or take five years).

Mythmaking

This tale of derring-do became the foundation for what would become the myth of mountain men and the American West. At the turn of the 20^th century elaborate retellings of stories of this kind became big business and gave birth to an entire genre of fiction. Hollywood wasn’t far behind. The 1972 movie ‘Jeremiah Johnson’ with Robert Redford kept the genre alive. Two generations later, ‘The Revenant’, was released to global success. Both films illustrate the enduring appeal of frontiersmen taming the wilderness and slaughtering indigenous peoples.

All that is a colourful and bloody preamble to the establishment of Yellowstone as America’s, and the world’s, first national park in 1872. The park quickly became a tourist destination. To help things along, the Northern Pacific Railroad built a spur line from Livingstone Montana to Cinnabar, a few miles short of the park’s northern entrance. Punters transferred from the train to dusty stagecoaches for the final bit of their journey to Mammoth Hot Springs. From there they could adventure south towards Yellowstone Lake and geysers like Old Faithful. To control voracious poaching, the army built a permanent camp at Mammoth Hot Springs. Many of the army’s methods for controlling poachers while keeping visitors safe eventually transferred to the National Park Service after its establishment in 1916.

The railway from Livingstone and Cinnabar are both long gone. Although, if you examine Google Earth’s satellite images of Paradise Valley you can make out where the tracks ran along the west side of the river. By car, the journey takes about 90 minutes from Bozeman. If we had an airplane we could have landed at Gardiner airport, three miles north of the park’s entrance.

Yellowstone

The current confusion in Washington DC conveyed a sense of urgency to our visit. By some miracle, the National Park Service is still working. For how long remains unclear. Stopping at park headquarters for information and updates on road closures, I congratulated the ranger on duty for being open. He was grateful for the acknowledgement and judiciously passed no comment.

During the winter most roads heading south in the park remain closed. That leaves only a 50-mile-long traverse across the northern edge open for exploration. Should you drive from Mammoth to the northeast entrance you will find neither rangers nor traffic entering the park. That’s because Colter Pass (yes, that Colter) closes between October and late May.

Mammoth Hot Springs

Yellowstone’s hot springs are pretty cool. Like the carbonate mineral hot spring terraces we visited in Pamukkale, Turkey, a few years ago, they arrange themselves in levels. Unlike Pamukkale’s snow white calcium carbonate-rich deposits, Mammoth’s terraces are sulphurous, brown and quite a bit hotter. We waded in up to our knees in Turkey, but felt no such temptation this time. Boardwalks provide access to Mammoth’s lower terraces. Warm, smelly steam rises off the rocks and acidic water cascades down in rivulets. The upper terraces are closed in winter and can be accessed by car at other times of the year.

All this thermal activity comes with a (theoretical) risk of annihilation by a super volcano. The middle of Yellowstone is described by a volcanic caldera about the size of London. Some six miles (10 kilometres) beneath the surface lurk two magma domes, each about the size of Idaho Falls. Since the turn of this century seismic activity has significantly increased. Thousands of earthquakes a year shake things up. Most are small, 3.0 on the Richter scale, or less. A few years ago, NASA suggested that an eruption might be prevented by cooling the magma with water. They admitted that piercing the magma dome with a well might also initiate an eruption. Needless to say, Elon Musk has yet to find the $4 billion in taxpayer’s money needed to undertake the project.

Bison

Head east and the road rises steadily up the Blacktail Plateau. Along the way small herds of bison and buffalo mosey alongside the road. I should note there is no difference in North America between a bison and a buffalo. They are one and the same. My eighth grade geography teacher told us, “A bison is something an Australian washes their face in.” Technically, bison is more correct. But you decide.

Buffalos on the hoof are smaller than I expected. I think it’s because most actors are a good half-foot shorter than me and that makes bison look bigger in Westerns. From our field observations, even the tallest bison humps were about level with the top of our car. Which is about the height of my shoulder, or a fully grown Audie Murphy. As ungulates go, the bison is, well, different. Its big hairy head and broad shoulders gives it the appearance of an American football player. Which seems appropriate.

At the northeastern end of the park, we passed a lone bison wandering down the road. By the time we’d turned around at Cooke City and headed back towards the main gate it had plunked itself down for a rest. He looked a bit lost, but we figured he’d find his peeps (that’s beeps, surely – ed.) before too long. Twenty miles further up the road an entire herd stopped traffic in both directions.

There are clear guidelines about keeping your distance from animals in the park. Bison should be kept at least two bus lengths or 25 yards away. Bears? At least 100 yards – no matter how cute they seem. Several people are gored and maimed each year by buffalo. They are not milk sops like cows. They are wild and dangerous! At least that’s what the National Park Service says. Tempting as it was to leap out of the car and take photos, we instead waited patiently for buffalo family to pass.

Snowshoeing

At Pebble Creek we pulled over and strapped on our snowshoes. Two weeks of unusually warm weather had melted a great deal of the snowpack. That makes what’s left a little more dangerous. By midday, the snow is soft and slick and more demanding. Beneath the surface, meltwater eats away at softer areas weakening them. Even with a thick, crusty surface, a good pair of snowshoes is essential.

We explored Pebble Creek canyon and then walked uphill for a couple of miles, following the tracks of a Swiss couple we crossed paths with. At the brow of the hill, the forests deepened and deadfall and tree wells made the going dangerous. When the Swiss tracks stopped, we turned around and slid back down to the car.

Heading out the way we had come in, we stopped at a clutch of cars. Wherever cars line the road, as we learned in South Africa, there is usually something to see. Earlier in the day a clutch of cars gave us a heads up that something was worth watching. Pulling over we saw a red fox trying to flush its dinner out of a hole in the snow. Waiting patiently, it stood by the hole at a discreet distance. It watched its quarry intently; looking for patterns in its movements. Then the fox coiled and leapt straight up in the air, landing headfirst in the hole. A couple of seconds later the fox’s head reappeared with nothing to show for its efforts.

Later in the day, at another lay-by, three young folks with aerials and radios were tracking wolves. No signals appeared. Disappointed, we left as soon as they did.

Yellow Rocks

Thanks to a roadside information sign, we learned that the Yellowstone River is the last major undammed river in the United States. It flows from its source southeast of Yellowstone Park into the Missouri River, some 671 miles away. The river’s name comes from the Minnetaree people, who referred to it as “Mi tse a-da-zi.” Roughly “Yellow Rock River”, eventually becoming “Yellow Stone”. French trappers translated the original as “Pierre Jaune”, or “Roche Jaune”. The yellow stones in question were probably sandstone, not gold.

Chico

Leaving the park, our exertions pointed us towards Chico Hot Springs with its promise of a good, warm soak. I’ll have more on that and the following day’s hike into the deadly Montana wilderness in my next post.

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