Of memories and buffalo: Yellowstone National Park

I cannot begin today’s writing without acknowledging the passing of a gentleman I once considered my father-in-law, though that was never legally the case. He was a working man who loved opera and classical music. The story I remember about him was how he was driving schoolgirls to a hockey practice, something he did many times, and some made a remark about loving the opera he had on the truck’s radio. Not catching the sarcasm, he turned it up. Served them right, the little philistines!

Leaning tree, Grand Teton National Park

Grand Teton is contiguous with Yellowstone, the world’s oldest national park, founded in 1872.

Pause, if you will, to think about this date. The park’s creation was signed into law by President Ulysses S. Grant, better known as the Union general who accepted the Confederacy’s surrender in the Civil War. The late 19th century is known for many things, but awareness of the environment is not generally one of them.

But the fact that Yellowstone was made a national park, which started the process of conserving wilderness in many other areas, is promising. A lot of times, it seems that environmental protection is thought of as a kind of niche interest—that the only people who care about preserving the environment, or recycling or reusing shopping bags, are people with some special passion for it, like an interest in scuba diving or stamp collecting. The reality is that looking after the world we live in is everyone’s responsibility, and we shouldn’t have to think about it very much. If late-nineteenth-century Americans could preserve wilderness, with all the problems they had then, surely we can make a few simple changes in our lives today.

Yellowstone is a unique collection of natural phenomena, the most famous of which is its geysers (or “geezers” in the British pronunciation). More than half the geysers on earth are in this one park. Many of its features are redolent of its volcanic history. It reminded us of New Zealand,  without the cold and rain.

Buffalo and thermal features--uniquely Yellowstone

The image of a buffalo in the valleys of Yellowstone is so iconic that it’s actually on the cover of Lonely Planet USA. We saw lots of them here, but the most special was when we stopped to watch one swimming across the river and emerging on the near bank. Then we saw another following him. Only when this one got out of the water did I realize she was followed by a little calf! T’s telescopic lens captured the mother swimming, looking behind her to ensure the calf was with her okay.

Photo courtesy of T.

The drive to our campground at Madison was a leisurely one, taking in many stops along the way.

Moose Falls

Hayden Valley

It’s easy to spot wildlife (well, at least the prey kind) in the national parks. When a bunch of people are stopped on the side of the road, looking through cameras or binoculars, there is generally something there. This not only guided us to the swimming buffalo, but to numerous elk.

Madison Campground is the nearest campground to Old Faithful, where Mom and Dad were staying. This isn’t saying much. The drive took 30 minutes, not that it wasn’t scenic, as all drives in Yellowstone are. The reservations people had honored my request to have a campsite near Ben’s, and when we arrived, they were set up across the loop from us. So it was as if we shared a big backyard.

Then it was time to hunt down Mom and Dad at the lodge. It had taken us all afternoon on the scenic route, so we knew they’d be there already. When we arrived at the reception desk to ask after them, we saw that the posted time for Old Faithful’s “performance” was in four minutes, so we hurried off to see it.

The reason this geyser is called Old Faithful is that it shoots sky high at very regular and predictable intervals. T. wasn’t impressed when it first started, but then it got going higher and higher. I was impressed by how they’ve built a wide circle of wooden fence around the geyser, so crowds can gather and yet everyone can see it unobstructed. Kind of like what they’ve done at Stonehenge in England.

Just a note if you travel from Grand Teton to Yellowstone: get groceries as far south as you can. The Colter Bay general store was a good one, but the stores we found in Yellowstone—all run by the same chain, I think—had a much paltrier selection. Basically, nothing fresh is sold, except for the odd apple. T. got cans of Beanee Weenee, thinking it meant little tiny beans. So we ended up eating weiners on weiners that night. One good thing about the grocery store was that we finally ran into Mom and Dad, who were once again staying in a cute cabin.

At the lodge T. asked if her cousin Cade was by any chance working there. It was a bit of a long shot. She knew her cousin Deirdre’s son was working at a lodge somewhere in Yellowstone, but this park covers more than 3,000 square miles. As we had already learned, every junction is at least half an hour from the next. By a stroke of luck, the gal behind the desk knew Cade, and he was in fact working at Old Faithful! So we were able to meet him—for the first time—the next day.

As American, and hospitable, as you would expect!

At one point—indeed, at many points—in Yellowstone you cross the Continental Divide. It is marked in so many places that Elizabeth said she stopped believing in the Continental Divide, but the first one we stopped at, the elevation is 7,988 feet. We noticed this principally in that the water took longer to boil the next morning.

A friend of Ben's, along with his family, came down from Montana to visit while we were in Yellowstone. We all started the day at Artist Point, but then those two families went off on an ambitious, mosquito-ridden hike, while T., Mom, Dad, and I took our time.

At Artist Point

The trail we originally planned to hike, along the South Rim of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, was closed. But Artist Point and subsequent lookouts at the Canyon are perhaps the most beautiful views in the park. Besides buffalo, of course.

Brink of Upper Falls

T., Dad, and I even took in a brief hike along the North Rim Trail.

Grand View

We saw a fair number of “political” T-shirts and so forth in the national parks. Mom, being pure of heart, only noticed those of our inclination, whereas I saw “MAGA” (Make America Great Again, but only in the RV park) and a Smokey the Bear parody, “Only you can return fire.” The kind of pro-gun asininity only America can provide also included a familiar picture of Indians, with the slogan, “Turn in your guns. The government will take care of you.” This of course represents the exact opposite of the lesson actual history could teach. American Indians did not lose to the federal government of the United States because they trustingly handed over their firearms, but because they fought the armed forces of the U.S. and were outgunned. As anyone would be, who tried to “resist tyranny” by force of arms. But why let facts get in the way of a good story?

Given the traditions and politics of the western states, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see guns everywhere, but in fact, I never saw them on a civilian. The park rangers, for their part, are armed with bear spray—a non-lethal pepper spray said to be effective in deterring bear attacks. Still, check before you try carrying it into Canada.

We got back to camp and saw our friends. Maisie, as usual, had added to their number.

The campground backed on to a “swimming hole,” actually a spectacular bend in the Madison River. This meant we were steps away from a valley that was gorgeous at any time of the day or night. I saw a bison grazing peacefully in the meadow, seemingly all to myself.

My own private buffalo

T. was starting to get agitated about all the bears Ben’s family was seeing. We set our alarm and planned to get up early and visit one of the other valleys, as Cade had suggested. We really meant to, but this was one of the days that T. wasn’t feeling very well, unfortunately.  

Biscuit Basin

While she rested, Mom, Dad, and I hiked to Mystic Falls.

T. was not out of luck as far as wildlife viewing went, though. That evening we had a visitor to our campground—not, as Elizabeth kept expecting, a bear “knocking on the window,” but a beautiful female elk!

The night improved as Maisie joined a whole bunch of other kids at the campground in a talent show. (Her talent was to disappear!) Mom cooked spaghetti and Elizabeth provided a salad. I don’t know where she got it, but the novelty of fresh vegetables was most welcome. Grand Teton and Yellowstone do abound, however, in a particular kind of fruit products: huckleberry everything. I tried the finest wine of Montana, and it was surprisingly good. Mom joined me in a rare tipple. 

Huckleberry wine

Ben & co. raved about their views of Grand Prismatic Spring, so the next day the four of us took a short hike to that overlook. I’m
afraid our morning was cloudier than theirs.

On a more prosaic note, it had always been T’s and my intention to do laundry halfway through this two-week camping trip. Yellowstone, however, proved to be the least convenient park in this aspect also. There were laundry facilities, but only at a “village” at least 30 minutes away, so we decided just to wear everything twice instead. Elizabeth took the opportunity to do their laundry at Lake Village. We took Maisie and just enjoyed the lake!

Lake Yellowstone

Mom and Dad bravely joined us in renting a boat with a small outboard motor. T. mostly drove. It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon.

Winged victory?

Afterwards, T. and I investigated the historic (and yellow) Lake Yellowstone Hotel. It was a notch above where we usually stay, with prices to match. Got a huckleberry margarita, though.

Although we never saw a bear in Yellowstone, we did see numerous elk, including families with young in the Hayden Valley. We were also rather good at spotting each other's families. We were driving our distinctive van down the loop road when I saw Ben’s vehicle parked on the side. It was identifiable by the orange kayak. Only later did he tell us that Maisie, at the same time, was looking through binoculars for wildlife when she shouted excitedly, “Jacqui and Trish!”

The other predator we never saw in Yellowstone was a wolf.

Firehole Falls

Wolves were reintroduced in 1995 and I remember a big controversy about it—understandable, since human attempts at these things so often go awry. In the event, however, bringing this predator back has had many more good effects than just managing the elk population, which was the original goal. One of the ranger events Ben and I went to gave a fascinating account of how the wolves, bears, and mountain lions balance each other in the ecosystem: wolves hunt all year while bears hibernate, for instance. Because I was from abroad, apparently, the ranger gave me a “Wolf Ambassador” pin (kids got one too). So while we never saw a wolf, we got a nice souvenir to remember Yellowstone by.

Photo courtesy of T.