Day: June 30, 2017

Pic: What on Earth? Vol. 2. This Smithsonian article explains the science and includes better pictures from days when it wasn’t hailing. Grand Prismatic Spring, Yellowstone NP, WY

A little sleepy from my early morning, I took a nap in a quiet area of the Canyon Village parking lot. Dirtbag achievement unlocked!

I had saved arguably the best — and decidedly the busiest — section of the park for last: the Old Faithful area. I waited for the late afternoon, hoping to swoop in quickly and avoid crowds while leaving enough time to see Fountain Paint Pots, Terrace Springs, and Grand Prismatic Spring before backpacking 3 miles and 900′ to Mallard Lake for the night.

The plan worked pretty well, except I misjudged a band of clouds and ended up visiting the mind-bending Grand Prismatic Spring in the middle of a hailstorm. The ambient humidity shrouded the warm, colorful pool in fog which looked cool but obstructed the view. I was told that the best perspective is from the top of a nearby hill but that the trail and overlook were closed for a much-needed redesign. Regardless, the striking rainbow colors made Grand Prismatic one of the coolest natural phenomena I have ever seen.

Pic: From now on, you may now refer to me as Your Excellency. Yellowstone NP, WY

Waking up while it’s still dark sucks (I’m sure the eight or so groups sleeping within 50 yards of me as I struck camp thought so as well), but it was worth it since I SAW WOLVES!

There is a group of hearty folks who hike out to a ridge in Lamar Valley every morning at dawn, set up spotting scopes, and look out across a stream bed busy with bison, pronghorn, and sandhill crane to a slope 1.3 miles away where a family of gray wolves lives. Devotees share intel using local landmarks: “Left of the Lone Tree, just before the Two Trees, above the Light Patch…” “There she is!”

I stood behind the line, trying to follow along using a cheap pair of hand-me-down binoculars (thanks Beth!), but it was hopeless. Fortunately, the spotting scope crew was extremely gracious in sharing the view: “Anyone want to see the wolves?” was almost as regular an announcement as location information on the animals.

I waited for a turn and was rewarded with an incredibly rare spectacle: wild wolf pups playing on a hillside. It was impossible not to compare these animals to modern domesticated dogs as I watched the six month-olds chase their tails and wrestle while their mother moved calmly but watchfully from a sunny spot in front of the den to the shade of a nearby lodgepole pine.

I chatted with a few of the wolf spotters as I squinted into their viewfinders. First, a retired couple living out of their RV in Gardiner. They came out most mornings to watch the wolves.

Then, I talked with a soft-spoken ranger in his 50s. I asked him about Gene the Camp Host’s claim that “wolves don’t belong in Wyoming.” He talked about the wolf’s PR problems (Gene had called them “killing machines”), their role in keeping elk and sheep herds healthy by culling weak animals, compensation programs available for ranchers, and Decade of the Wolf. Underlying this conversation was the fact that we were surrounded by tourists who had travelled hundreds or thousands of miles to be in this spot, seeing Yellowstone’s wildlife in general or these wolves in particular. This is both a political and an economic argument for why wolves are important.

On the other hand… “Do you eat beef?” I asked.

“I do.”

“Me too. It seems like there should be a way to have wolves and ranchers.”

As the day heated up, the wolves retreated to the cool of their den. On the other side of the creek, their fans packed up and did the same. I said goodbye to the retired couple — the ranger was talking wolves with some new arrivals — and headed back to the car. I didn’t get far before my new ranger friend flagged me down and handed me a Wolf Ambassador pin. It’s a cheap souvenir intended for children[1] but I continue to wear it proudly as a reminder of a morning I will always cherish, spent with the wolves of Yellowstone.

 

[1] Not that I’m above such a thing.