![]() The early sun illuminates thousands of spider webs in the grass, turned to golden thread weaving a tapestry of life in the understory. The feel reminds me of saddle leather in a way the natural and utilitarian feel of something once-living. I let my hands pass over the smooth bark of the dead trees. Shortly after, I see a mule deer munching flowers on the steep slope above me.Īlong the rocky scree, deep silky phacelia is a highlight. I smile to see a wild animal despite all the people in the trail, thinking of how many will walk right by. I sit to have a snack at the base of the bowl, and spot a bighorn ewe on a point far above the trail. ![]() If more folks saw these forests perhaps they would ask how we humans are culpable. Climbing through stand after stand of skeletal sentinels that once provided food and shelter for grizzlies and Clark’s nutcrackers, I think humans might really have it coming.īlister rust, fire suppression, pine beetle, climate change a perfect storm of natural and human driven forces that have culminated in so many thousands of acres of these trees decimated. The bright yellow helianthella is cheerful against their smooth gray bark yin and yang, life and death juxtaposed. I walk through the ghosts of whitebark pines, both familiar and eerie at the same time. I pass happy patches of helianthella, bright pink Indian paintbrush, and stately bluebells along the sweet creek, all which seem to say “you can do it!” Whoof the trail is steep! I know this from hiking it at least a dozen times, but it always seems a surprise in the beginning. Everyone seems super happy to be here, friendly on the trail, and thankfully no-one is playing music while hiking….so I’m not too bothered by the crowds. It turns out that there are quite a few folks hiking today. Since I am hiking alone and this is definitely bear country, I take two bear sprays and make sure to keep pace between a couple of groups. While my usual preference is to walk in my own very small group far from others, today I am glad to find several hikers hitting the trail. Near Lake Butte I encounter a juvenile eagle, sitting and pruning and generally being eagle-ish, much to the chagrin of the local birds and squirrels all along the hillside behind, who are all alarming and chattering. I stop at a flowery meadow I love by the lake, but there’s already somebody there – of the 2000 pound variety – so I move on for now. But not too early, since I will be looking to hike in the vicinity of others for bear safety. I figure an early start will be a good idea, because I believe it’s going to get pretty hot today. ![]() ![]() I’m on my way to hike Avalanche Peak today any bears, flowers, or beautiful light on the way notwithstanding. I pass a woman taking an early morning walk through the campground, and she smiles and waves. Driving through the sleepy campground, a few folks have fires going, surrounded by kids with thick blankets wrapped around their shoulders huddled near the warmth. I love being out early in the morning there’s an energy that is gentle, yet full of possibility, still poised before the action of the day. It’s chilly 37 degrees at 7:45am.Īlthough I didn’t get up as early as I would like, it’s still feels early. The Absaroka mountains seem no more than hulking shadows in the gloaming. It’s a clear blue morning, with mist and fog lingering over the Lake. The smell of the trees and the grass and the water meld into a cloud of sensation. I am filled with the senses of the moment: wind whistling in the lodgepole pines across the river, the bright green of the still-moist grass along the bank, the sharp, cold water numbing my feet above the ankles. I need a visceral connection, so I pull off my sandals and stand in a sandy spot in a small eddy.Īnd almost instantly, the rest of the world melts away. So I check out of the road system completely, and stop over at a favorite spot along the Yellowstone River where there are shallows that I can dip my feet into. It took me 6 hours, and after getting the camper parked and camp all set up, I am more than ready for the serenity of Yellowstone.īut…I forget that even though visitation might be slightly down because of the recent floods, it is still July in Yellowstone, and I can’t slowly meander along the roadways quite the same way I want without being rude or having people people running up my tail. While visitation is definitely down, by the time I get to Lake the road scene is still fairly busy, and I must admit I’m quite tired from driving all the way around to Bridge Bay Campground in Yellowstone from the North Entrance. I don't usually front-country camp at Yellowstone Lake in July, but since my June dates were canceled on account of the flood that washed out the north entrance road, I decided July would do just fine-else I might not get into the park's interior at all this summer!
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