WalkingCarrot

With thick cloud cover, we slept warm night last nigtht – a nice change of pace. At first daylight we heard loud hooves outside the tent, probably moose or elk. Not wanting to “spook” them, we stayed inside and let them fade into the nearby willows.

The trail followed a different route than described in the guidebook, not too unusual. This time it was a nice walk up the upper Snake River valley, full of fall colors: red fireweed, yellow, orange and red of the various understory shrubs. It’s an interesting irony that the ’88 fires have left more color to landscape. With less evergreen canopy there are more broadleaf shrubs and much, much more can be seen.

We walked with wet feet all day, from fords and muddy trail. We are getting beyond both the distance and comfort level of most people who backpack into the park. The very upper reaches of the Snake river are seldom seen.

No people means that today we saw 2 bears, both big and healthy, both turned and ran. The second bear made a sound, before running, unlike any I have heard a bear make; one that can only be described as an un-bear like “squeal”.

And there were wolf tracks. Lot’s of them. As we leave Yellowstone, we are entering truly wild country, where the edge of the park meets the “Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem.”

Throughout the day the elk continue to bugle, looking for love, or so we think. The storms roll back in and before lunch we are pummelled with rain, hail and sleet. The hail turms the terrain white. We find shelter at a closed, padlocked, backcountry ranger station and eat lunch in the shelter of the porch. Then we hike on.

The afternoon turns colder and intermittant rain falls, eventually turning to snow. Nothing to do but hike on and be thankful that we have thawed out shoes, unlike John Colter.

We leave the valley bottom and climb towards high plateaus as the afternoon turns to evening and the cold turns to colder. Snow falls; toes become numb and then number. Finally we figure we won’t be able to cross the plateau and make a camp, short of our goal, in a high basin at 9,400 foot.

Before doing anything else, before setting up the tent, or starting dinner, we gather firewood, build a pit and start a fire. For warmth, and for the feeling that we can control our situation, or at least think that we can. Nature somehow nods agreement to our efforts.

The late evening skies clear and stars come out. The air is still very damp and drying stuff by fire pulls moisture back out of air and into the fabric. But we feel good about the effort. We eat late, but hot food warms from the inside and we slide into the cocoon of the tent/sleeping bag feeling warm, cozy and much more comfortable than we ever thought we might just a couple hours before.

18.9 miles