The way of Jim Bridger and Jedediah Smith

"Thousands of tired, nerve-shattered, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home:
that wilderness is a necessity."

Austin to Jackson Hole

My flight from Austin to Salt Lake City was for that evening. I had been set for many days so other than getting to the airport I didn’t have much to do, so I thought. I arrived at the airport a little over the two hours necessary for check in. It hadn’t rained in Austin in probably over a month and a half. Well the skies would open up today. As I got inside the one-hour mark for departure an announcement came over the public address that no flights were landing or taking off because of the lightning. The delay first started out as 15 minutes, then 30 then an hour. Not sure what to do because I only had a 30-minute layover in Salt Lake City in route to Jackson Hole I began as did most of the other passengers pestering the airline representative. By the time I boarded the plane I was schedule for three flights headed for Jackson Hole. Once boarded an announcement was made that the airline was further delayed because they were looking for a missing gas truck. 15 minutes later they announced that they were now missing passengers and would begin taxi as soon as they found them, I thought this was the funniest thing I had ever heard in my life. Keep in mind that Brian my backpacking partner was enroute driving to Jackson Hole and was to pick me up that evening and I had no way of letting him know what was going on. OK, your telling yourself that Brian would ask some one about my flight from Salt Lake city once I did not arrive. The weather problem was from Austin and every thing was fine from Salt Lake City to Jackson Hole. Everything except I would not be on the plane. Well stay tuned because it gets better. I meet these guys in Austin, Scott and Greg that are also going to Jackson Hole and we begin to devise a plan to rent a car in Salt Lake City and drive to Jackson Hole. Don’t worry it never happened. We land in Salt Lake City which I should add from the air is a very nice place. Snow-capped mountains, not what I expected, surround the city. Anyway we are sitting on the runway and one of the guys I met calls the airline and finds out that he and his friend have seats on a flight that I know I was also on standby for going to Jackson. The flight leaves in ten minutes and is on the other side of the airport. I don’t know if I have a seat on the flight but I run with them just in case I am able to get in and I do. Now I’m only going to be an hour late getting to Jackson Hole. Don’t think that this little adventure is over yet, it has only just begun. I board this little prop job that looks like they stole two WWII P-38 engines and glued them on the wings headed for Jackson Hole.

The Jackson Hole Airport is located at the base of the spectacular Teton Mountains. Located entirely within Grand Teton National Park. Jackson Hole, a hole being trappers' name for a valley surrounded by mountain peaks. Mountain men left the first accounts of the region, from Jackson Hole to Yellowstone, as they moved through the area trapping beaver and other animals. This evening I would see nothing of the mountains as they were draped in a veil of darkness.

Often life was marginal and settlers barely subsisted. Attempts to mine precious metals in the valley were not successful. The remoteness of Jackson Hole gave cover to fringe elements including poachers, elk tuskers (who killed elk for their two ivory teeth leaving the meat to waste), and horse thieves. Now Jackson Hole is home of our nation rich in search of pretend adventure. I was told that if you owned any land near Jackson you could sell it and become an instant millionaire. Well I arrived at the Jackson Hole airport and started looking for both Brian and my gear. Brian and I had planned to meet up and then would go to a campsite that he would have scouted out earlier in the day. At this point I’m feeling pretty good about things. Just a few hours earlier I wasn’t sure how or when I was going to get to Jackson Hole. All I needed was my gear and to find Brian. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. This night I would find neither. I was told by the airline that they had lost my gear and would be put up at the airlines expense at a local hotel. Linking up with Brian was going to be more interesting. I get in touch with my wife and we start trying to unravel the mess I’m in at the moment. While she is making calls I go out into the airport parking and walk up and down the parking lot just in case he fell asleep after the long drive up. I told her to call Brian’s wife and I guess in the late hours she miss dialed one of the numbers because the recording told her that the number was not his. The guys that I had met in Austin offer me a ride to my hotel so at least I’m out of the airport and a little more comfortable. The hotel that I was going to be staying at this night was Snow King Resort. The place seemed very nice but the area around the resort was geared for skiers. This being summer may have explained their being a vacancy this late at night. I would also venture a guess that the resort like most others in Jackson was on the pricey side. It’s about one o’clock in the morning at this point and feeling that there is little I can do until tomorrow I hit the sheets.

“Earth receives Foot and paw
Hoof and claw
With equal grace.
But,
It is the way of
The wild,
Not to overstep
The bounds of hospitality.
This is a wild place.
Follow me
And leave no trace,
That wind, rain and snow
Cannot erase."

--M. L. Johnson--

July 15, 2005

Jackson Hole

I woke early the next morning and immediately start trying to figure out how to get things back on track. Many of things could have happened to get things to where they were right now. My being late could have gotten Brian to return to the scouted out camp and settle in for the night. The question would be how do we get linked up. Maryann tries the number to Brian’s house again, which this time is correct. Brian’s wife is more than a bit concerned because the last she had heard from Brian, he had left for Jackson the day before to meet up with me. Lucky we had built this day into the trip just for this reason. We had planned to look around for the day and make resupply drops. About 10 am I find out that Brian knows that I am in town and is franticly trying to get in touch with me. He has already spoken to Maryann and is sitting at a pay phone waiting. We make contact about 20 minutes later and he is enroute to the hotel. Now all I need is to find my gear. The airport where my gear would end up was 13 miles away so waiting on Brian to arrive was necessary. Once he arrived we caught up on what had happened. On the way out of town we stopped by a local sporting good store to pick up fuel and a few last minute items. We arrived at the airport and my gear was plainly in sight at the ticket counter. From outside the airport I am struck by something that I had read from the historian Mattes.

”This was a notable occasion, for the full glory of the Tetons was revealed for the first time to these two young trappers.”

By the way just because a few of the details seem to be clearing up don’t think that new obstacles won’t emerge. We then depart the airport and proceed to the Jenny Lake visitor’s center to scout out a place for a resupply drop. To our surprise we found that the visitors center had lockers for rent, .75 cents and the locker is yours for as long as you have the key. After making the drop Brian treated me to a lunch of turkey sandwiches, potato chips, and pudding cups. We then proceeded to the South Entrance of Yellowstone to make another resupply drop and to pick up our backcountry permit. We met a summer ranger named Pong working in the backcountry office. He was asking about our backcountry experience as part of issuing our permit. Some where in the conversation it came up about how Brian had helped Kelly out on the JMT when she ran out of food. Pong said that he had just issued a permit to a girl that said two guys had helped her out last summer when she ran out of food on the JMT. Pong thinking that he had just checked in the person that had traveled the JMT the previous summer with us. He spent a few excited moments trying to find the girl. Our food drop at this location was going to be a dug in stealth drop of buried bear canisters. A site was secured just inside Yellowstone and along a hiking trail. Be aware that this type of resupply drop is not permitted by the park service. This resupply went as smoothly as the previous drop. With the days chores complete we secured a campsite along the Snake River just outside Yellowstone in the Bridger-Teton National Forest. After a cold swim in the Snake River Brian reached into his ice chest of surprises and again treated to a meal of steak and lobster. With a full stomach I laid out my bedroll for an early evenings rest. The excitement of what was to come would not let sleep come easily. Just on the other side of the Snake River I viewed a few deer making a river crossing. Wanting to see more wildlife I was constantly up and down looking around for what ever this land might be hiding just beyond the shadows. As darkness became complete I saw off in the distance dark storm clouds and lightning strikes. The storm seemed to be steadily moving in our direction. I decided rather than be woken up to rain I would go ahead and set up my shelter. Brian had already fallen asleep so I woke him to let him know of the incoming weather.

The Grand Loop

This morning began at 4:30 am with the intention of getting to Canyon by sunrise. It did briefly rain the previous night so all was damp. Jim Bridger first came to this country in 1825. He along with some thirty other trappers followed the Snake River north into the Yellowstone. Today, some 180 years later I to would follow this route.

We shortly reached West Thumb on Yellowstone Lake. West Thumb is a caldera within a larger caldera. The scene as we entered the trail boardwalk is of a light morning steam covering the ground. The steam is created by the gas and moisture of the super heated thermal waters. Elk were standing around the thermal features but move quickly into the tree line as we approached. The waters in these thermal features average 167 degrees Fahrenheit. The colors seen in the pools of West Thumb are created by the Thermophiles that live in them. The green and brown Thermophiles indicate cooler waters and red and orange Thermophiles in the hotter water. Only a few microorganisms can live in the near boiling waters of these pools.

Our next destination was to be Canyon but the plan to be their buy sunrise would not be realized. We ended up making an unscheduled stop at what would end up being my favorite drive up attraction the Mud Volcano Trail. When we arrived at this site there were several large Bison milling about. The trail itself consisted of a 2/3-mile boardwalk around more thermal features. Just inside the boardwalk was a feature called Dragon’s Mouth Spring, which looked like a water filled cavern with water, surging in and out of the entrance. The sound coming from the super heated spring sounded like the breathe of a dragon. The Crow Indians saw the steam as snorts of an angry bull bison. We decided to have an early lunch here and just enjoy the scene. While munching on a turkey sandwich and leaning up against Brian’s Jeep Bison stroll by as close as the length of my trekking pole.

On to the Canyon area! We made a road stop at the 109 ft. Upper Falls. It is unbelievable that water could have so much power. Then we hiked down to the bottom of the 308 ft. Lower Falls on the Uncle Tom’s trail. The Uncle Tom’s trail is a 500 ft decent into the canyon to a viewing platform. The spray from the water creates a spectacular rainbow. From here you can see, hear, and see the power of Lower Falls. Just as we hit bottom we could hear the boom of a thunderstorm moving in over the canyon. We hurried back to the top but the storm had passed by the time we got back to the top. Our next objective was over to the Brink of Lower Falls. Every second an average of 37,417 gallons of water plunges the 308 ft. over the Lower Falls. These two falls were formed by the leading edge of a volcanic lava flow. Our drive then takes us past the Canyon Visitors center and on to The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. The Canyon runs about 20 miles and is anywhere from 800 to 1200 feet deep. The walls of the canyon seemed to be covered in red colored scree. You could see the puffs of steam coming out of the Canyon wall from the thermal activity.

I’ve heard it said that Mammoth Hot Springs looks like a calcite cavern turned inside out. I would have to say that’s exactly what it looks like. The formations of limestone terraces took on the colors of snow white, orange, and brown. Beautiful, they reminded me of soft serve ice cream. That or maybe it was because so damn hot.

The Norris Geyser Basin Parking lot was filled to capacity. The temperature seemed to be hotter that the already hot surrounding area. Norris Geyser Basin to me looked like what I imagine the surface of the moon to look like. That is if you transplanted a few tree. The first thermal feature that we came across was Steamboat Geyser. We spent a substantial amount of time waiting for an eruption that would never come. Steamboat Geyser is the tallest active geyser in the world. The height of Steamboat geyser can be in excess of 300 ft. The problem with viewing this geyser though is that it is so infrequent that there may be months or years between eruptions. The features in this area are the most acidic in the park. I did not know this fact at the time but you could feel it in the air. Walking through the area I could imagine Jim Bridger or Jedediah Smith sitting atop their horses weaving through the brush. They can smell the sulfur in the air and feel the rumble of the earth. They round the brush and a geyser erupts, the horse rare up startled. Not knowing what they have found they feel that they have found hell on earth. It was said that Jedediah Smith was never with out his bible. Maybe this passage passed through his mind.

“On the wicked he will rain fiery coals and burning sulfur; a scorching wind will be their lot.” (Psalm 11:6) On his lips these words; “Therefore rejoice, you heavens and you who dwell in them! But woe to the earth and the sea because the devil has gone down to you! He is filled with fury because he knows that his time is short.” (Revelations 12:12) Moving along the trail we next came across Echinus Geyser. Although less intense the Echinus Geyser seemed to be more active. The remainder of the trail was dotted with fumaroles, mudpots, and hotsprings. The toxic gases in the air were sickening and seemed to bring on an intense headache.

Old Faithful was hot dry and out in the open. There must have been a few hundred people milling around waiting for the big event. Every few minutes I would hear someone say “ten more minutes”. Brian and I found us a spot on the viewing platform. This plat form mad a big circle around Old Faithful. Every inch had someone sitting on it, seat and walk way alike. There were many false starts where it would kick out a puff of steam or a few squirts of water. Once it did finally let go it was an outstanding sight. The water sprayed up in the air for about 10 minutes. I think the thing that really made it incredible was the thought that all this power existed just a few inches under my feet.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Old Faithful to Shoshone Meadows

We arrive at the Howard Eaton trailhead at roughly 4 in the afternoon. Howard Eaton came from Pennsylvania in 1879 to begin a ranching business with his brothers called the Custer Trail Ranch. It was located 5 miles south of Medora, North Dakota. He began conducting horseback camping tours through the park in 1882. By 1886 he was conducting annual 3-week excursions of the park, but did not allow women on the trips until 1902. After the terrible winter of 1886-87 that decimated cattle herds over all the Northern Plains, he went into the ‘guest ranching’ business. He continued the guide business into the 1900’s. In 1904 he moved his ranch to Wolf Creek, near present day Sheridan, Wyoming and expanded his trips into Jackson Hole, the Big Horn Mountains, and Glacier Park. He continued his Yellowstone/Teton trips until his death on April 17, 1922. Eaton was responsible for bringing the buffalo from the Allard herd in Montana into Yellowstone in 1902. The 157-mile Howard Eaton Trail was named after him July 19, 1923. I don’t know if it was the heat or the sulfur in the air but I was starting this trip with one hell of a migraine headache. All I could think off was I did not want to do this at the moment. We hiked in the 3.9 miles to the site of the Lone Star Geyser and waited for the eruption that was to happen every four hours. My head hurt so bad that I tried to prepare a early dinner of Chicken Stew and ended up, after a few bites burying it in a cat hole. When the eruption finally did come I really did not care. It was all I could do to capture it on film. From the site of the Lone Star Geyser we then hiked another 3.6 miles to Shoshone Meadows. The trail to Shoshone Meadows pasted the small meandering Fire Hole and Shoshone Creak. Then made a small climb up over the barely noticeable Grant Pass. Along the trail was this hair like stuff that was attached to broken tree limbs. My impression was that it looked like the shed hair of a bear. Brian and I talked about it later that evening at camp and he also had seen it. His thoughts were that it looked like the main of a bison. We both later would come across a large branch of the stuff and came to the conclusion that it was some kind of algae. Just past the Bechler Trail junction we came to our camp. I spent much of the evening quietly scouting an adjacent meadow. The meadow seemed to be the perfect spot for some great sightings. A tiny creek ran through one side a small clump of trees perfect to conceal my presence laid in the middle. I had really envisioned this trip to be one of great sighting of big animals. Passing through fields full of grazing elk, and pronghorn antelope, and waking up to meadows full and giant bison. Hopefully a good nights sleep will bring some relief from this splitting headache.

"Men go back to the mountains, as they go back to sailing ships at sea, because in the mountains and on the sea they must face up, as did men of another age, to the challenge of nature. Modern man lives in a highly synthetic kind of existence. He specializes in this and that. Rarely does he test all his powers or find himself whole. But in the hills and on the water the character of a man comes out."

Shoshone Meadows to Shoshone Lake, Basin Bay Point

This day began with a somewhat late start because the backcountry permit ended up assigning us to a camp two miles from the previous site. My headache seems to have subsided for the most part. I really think that it has something to do with the sulfur in the air and water. I have had to make nature breaks 3-4 times a day, which is very unusual for me. On the way to Shoshone Lake, Basin Bay Point we passed by the Shoshone Geyser Basin. The features of this area included many heated pools and my favorite the Minuteman Geyser. The Minuteman Geyser was not so spectacular in it eruption but was often. Every two minutes or less the Geyser would erupt. There was also no one around so you could really get the feel of what was going on. Within 15 feet I chose a spot next to the Minuteman to have my lunch. On the way out and back to the main trail to camp Brian decides that his curiosity was more than he could stand and puts his finger into one of the pools to see how hot it was. We passed an open meadow just before the trail junction and spy a flock of Canadian Geese. About half a mile further and we were at camp. The day being early we hung the packs and set out to explore. I set out following Shoshone Lakes water's edge to the southwest. In the distance I could see a small meadow that looked like a prime area to view wildlife. Once I got to the meadow the major wildlife I encountered was a squadron of biting flies intent on eating me alive. I worked my across the meadow and found my self on the backside of the Shoshone Geyser Basin. The edge of the meadow was swampy and thermal. I broke through the heated wet ground to cover my boot with hot sulfur smelling mud. Past the meadow lies an entire hill smoking from the thermal features that were active there. Shortly after Brian arrived on the scene and we explored the area for a few hours. The basin was dotted with small hot spots of bubbling waters spewing steam. The overlooking cliffs seem to be the home, although I only saw the scat to numerous marmots. I worked my way back to camp and spent the remainder of the evening sitting on the Shore of Shoshone Lake watching Canadian Geese swim about the cold waters. A sand piper nosily patrolled up and down the waters edge letting me know that I was intruding on its domain. The sunset on the distant mountains turned the rock the bright orange I remember from last summers trek through the Sierra Nevada’s. The mountains seemed so far away that it was inconceivable that within two days time we would be passing through these mountains. I did not know this at the time but the name of the distant mountains is the Red Mountains.

Shoshone Lake, Basin Bay Point to Shoshone Lake, Outlet

This day’s trek would take up through the densely wooded trail that snakes through the lesser-used trail of North Shoshone Lake. To the north the trail was bordered by the Cement Hills. We would then continue along the Delacy trail, skirting the lake shoreline to Shoshone Lake’s outlet. Walter W DeLacy was the leader of a gold-prospecting expedition in 1863. DeLacy called his companions the ‘Forty Thieves’ that discovered Shoshone Lake and its drainage to the Snake River. He compiled the first accurate map of the park, two years later. Unfortunately his findings were not published until 1876, long after other maps and charts had been produced by various other expeditions in the early 1870’s. His historical ‘claim-to-fame’ was thwarted by his delay in publishing his findings. DeLacy Creek is named after him. Just before reaching the Delacy trail the trail passed by several large swampy areas covered in lily pad. I spent a lot of time just standing at the waters edge looking for a feeding moose or a bear coming down for a drink. We got to camp pretty early in the day. After hanging my gear and food from the provided bear hang. I spent much of the afternoon and evening walking up and down the lakes shore looking for wildlife in the many meadows. I followed the shoreline for a mile in each direction and every spur trail for at least half a mile. I walked up the Dogshead trail for about 30 minutes and then returned. On this day not even a small deer. I entertained myself trading noises back and forth with a squirrel. I’d make some chattering noise and the squirrel would chatter back. This must have gone on for hours. The area seemed perfect for a Boy Scout trip. I’m not sure if it was the 1986 fire but the ground around camp was littered with downed trees about 3 inched in diameter and 20-25 feet long. On a small hill opposite the outlet you could see the same kinds of trees still in the upright position. They were their buy the thousands like upright toothpicks with out a branch one. With some lashing twine and a little imagination one could lash together a pretty cool fort. Having to keep the gear on the bear pole was becoming inconvenient but in the back of my mind I knew it was very necessary. The night became an early one because of the persistently aggressive mosquitoes.

"Those who have packed far up into grizzly country know that the presences of even one grizzly on the land elevates the mountains, deepens the canyons, chills the winds, brightens the stars, darkens the forest, and quickens the pulse of all who enter it. They know that when a bear dies, something sacred in every living thing interconnected with that realm... also dies."

Shoshone Lake, Outlet to Heart Lake

Today’s trek would take us from Shoshone Lake, Outlet past Lewis Lake, cross the main park road the south to Heart Lake.

The trail crossed the summit creak following the Lewis River. The trail around Lewis Lake passed through small pocket meadows and small ponds of water lilies. The habitat seen like the perfect area for a moose to be lazily feed. But the big animals refused to make an appearance. We snaked our way through the Yellowstone backcountry. I had heard before starting the trek about three people missing near Lewis Lake and my eyes scanned the brush for any hidden surprises. Leaving Lewis Lake the trail exited a small break in the piney woods and crossed the South Entrance Road. A short distance south brought me to the Heart Lake trailhead. Brian was waiting for me here and both he and I were in need of water. The early afternoon temperature had turned hot so water was a priority. We found a small creeklet near the parking area with moving water and refilled our containers. This water would have to be treated with extreme care. The parking lot was full of horse trailers and that means horses. Horses to some extent can be filthy creatures. They are one of the few animals that will stand in the same water they drink and relieve themselves. The problem with this for us humans other than the obvious is that a cyst called giardia lives in the intestinal tract of these beast. A few weeks after being ingested this little animal causes you to lose your appetite followed by extreme diarrhea that can last for months even years. The trail first passed through more burned out forest, then a nice lush meadow followed by more burnt forest. I had one eve on a ridge coming down from Factory Hill knowing that the point would signal that I was with in the Heart Lake basin. I then followed Witch Creek down to Heart Lake. Just before arriving at Heart Lake I past through the Heart Lake Geyser basin, and Rustic Geyser a small pocket of thermally active features. I passed by a group of rangers working on rebuilding a washed out bridge. I asked if there were any bears in the area and how I could improve my chances of seeing one. I was told that there was little to no chance of seeing a bear in this area. I found it interesting that my permit had a special not to be especially careful because of the bear activity in the area around Heart Lake. Upon arriving at camp I went through the normal ritual of hanging my gear. Then went down to the lake to do a little laundry and take a bath. The flowers in the area were incredible and so full of color. I decided to survey the area and spent the majority walking around getting pictures of the many bouquets. That evening as the sun was starting to set, the mayflies came out in huge swarms. They were not particularly bothersome unlike the black flies and mosquitoes. They just flew around in the thousand or probably even millions. Brian told me he had read that the swarms get so thick that it has been documented that they have suffocated moose.

Heart Lake to Snake River (South Entrance)

The trail from Heart Lake was lined with the lushest flowers I had ever seen. The fields of flowers seemed to go on endlessly. They seemed to be of every imaginable color and variety. The trail passed by Mount Sheridan and Sheridan Lake. Named for Phillip Sheridan, an army general who visited the park in 1882 with a force of 150 men. He cut a primitive trail from Jackson’s Hole to West Thumb, and later recommended military protection of the park. I passed by Basin Lake and Red Creek before getting to the Snake River. Just before the trail ran into the Snake River I ran into a lone elk. This one seemed to be very interested in what I was doing but did not stick around long. The Heart Lake trail intersected with the South Boundary trail and continued west. After following along the Snake River for about half a mile me came to our first major ford. The water was cool but not too cold. I decided to remove my boot and cross wearing socks. On the other side I changed into dry socks and took a few pictures of Brian making his way across. The trail passed by the Snake Hot Springs, which smelled like sewer water. We followed along the Snake River until we came across a Park Service work crew at one of the campsites. We asked them where the site we had been assigned was located. The leader of the group informed us that we had missed the cut off for that camp a few miles back. He then offered to call in on his radio and see if the one we were at was available for the evening. It was and he made arrangement for us to use it for that night. Too the south was a line of hills called Huckleberry Ridge. Unfortunately it became apparent that we were still six miles from the South Entrance and our resupply point for the next day. The problem was that this was going to add another six miles to what was going to be a twenty-mile day tomorrow. While taking a afternoon rest brake and getting down some dinner Brian and I hatched the idea that we would wait for the crew to finish their work for the day and then move to within a mile or two of the South Entrance Ranger station and set up a stealth camp after it had gotten dark. After the work crew had finished we let them get an hour head start on us. We ended up that evening camped on a hill to where we could see the American flag on it’s pole in front of the ranger station.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry that I couldn't travel both
And be one traveler I stood
And looked as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other one just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as far as the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step and trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a woods, and I
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference."

--Robert Frost--

Snake River (South Entrance) to near Moose Lake

Not wanting to be caught camping in a restricted area we got up before light and quickly packed. I joked with Brian after getting packed that we were no longer campers but hikers. Expecting a short stroll over to the South Entrance we set out. Just before the ranger station we found ourselves on the opposite side of the Snake River with the only way across being getting wet. At 6 am on a cool morning getting wet would not have been my choice. Not having another option we made the ford across the river.

Near the ranger station we retrieved the resupply drop that we had dug in. I had decided that I would leave behind some of the supplies because I was not consuming as much as I had planned. I stopped at the pay phone and made a call home before setting out.

The South Boundary Trail connects just past the ranger station on the opposite side of the road behind some well used horse corrals. Just as we past the trail head sign we came upon a lone coyote. It was obvious that he wanted little to do with us but we were in the way of his direction of travel. After a few pictures we decided to move along. Just out of the coyotes sight we were again treated to the sound of his howls. As if to wish us well on our trek through his country he called out. It was obvious by the condition of the trail that this was a very seldom-used path. Brian and I past many bridges that seemed to have washed out and were barely crossable. At one point while stopping to put some water on my dew rag Brian sounds out “Moose” and points. Sure enough the first moose of the trip. A cow and her calf bolted from the brush. The only reason I was able to get a picture was because the calf paused for a moment to look at us. We continued through this corridor until its intersection with Grassy Lake Road. We then started a long hot road march into the Bechler region. The Winegar Hole Wilderness is a small (only 11,000 acres), but very wild and little-traveled area that occupies the low area sandwiched between Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. The elevation is about 6300 feet. The actual wilderness quality land, as opposed to the official wilderness, generally encompasses (on the north) a small part of Yellowstone Park south of the South Boundary Trail between the Fall River on the west and Cascade Creek on the east. The southern boundary of the Winegar Hole wilderness land is basically the Grassy Lake Road (a.k.a.) the "Ashton to Flagg Ranch" road and (a.k.a.) the Reclamation Road. The total acreage of this wild country is probably over 25,000 acres. Two small road incursions are located at Moose Lake and Loon Lake, both of which always harbor loons and equally wild-sounding call of the sandhill crane. About 10,000 acres of similar wet, boggy, ponded, willow country extends south of the Grassy Lake Road around the northeast base of the Tetons, a part of the range not commonly visited. This Wilderness area has no real trails. It is damp mostly marsh, bog, and willow fields. It is tremendous wildlife and waterfowl habitat, and it is especially notable for grizzly bears. All of the Wilderness is prime grizzly and black bear habitat. There are also numerous moose and elk. Great mosquito habitat too! The Winegar Hole Wilderness is in Wyoming, but it is immediately adjacent to the Idaho border. The few dry areas are covered with tall, beautiful perennial flowers that hide treacherous deadfallen pine and fir. The streams are cloaked with seemingly impenetrable thickets of willows. The flat meadows are almost all wet meadows surrounded by deep patches of willows with nearly hidden deep holes here and there among the roots. Floating bogs surround the lakes and in other places pose as wet meadows, making your permanent disappearance through a broken surface like ice on pond a real possibility. This night we would camp on the side of a hill near Moose Lake.

"If people persist in trespassing upon the grizzlies' territory, we must accept that the grizzlies, from time to time, will harvest a few trespassers."

Near Moose Lake to Coyote Meadows

This morning started out like most others. We quickly packed our gear and looked forward to knocking out the last few miles of a long road march. What I did not know is that this would turn out to one of the most challenging days of the trip. We started this day’s trek with almost no water. It wasn’t much of a problem since the temperature was still cool. We came across a stream after about a mile and toped the containers off. Heading south we past Gibson Meadows. The final part of the road march was going to be about 5 miles and I was looking forward to getting off the hard pavement and back into the trees. Just before getting to the trailhead we decided to stop and get a quick lunch break. The trail over to Squirrel Lake was pretty well defined. The trail looked like horses and ATV used it more than backpackers. Once we reached Squirrel Lake the trail turned out to be a maze of crossing horse trails. I’d say that we spent a good 3 hours navigating in circles trying to get through this section of country. During this navigational exercise is managed to fall in one of the side creeks. Nothing like spending the day walking around with wet boots and socks. We managed to nail down an exact location for all of five minutes until the trail completely disappeared into the brush. The main trail seemed to go off towards the west and we must have walked up it a half mile 3 or 4 times looking for it to turn south. There was a trail sign that seemed to point off into the brush but no visible trail. We finally decided to bushwhack in the direction that we knew we should be heading. Aided by the GPS and the waypoints I had input into it we headed off into the unknown. After about a half-mile we ran into Squirrel Creek, which was a good thing because I had been without water for a while and did not like it too much. We beat our way through this country for about 4 and a half miles until reaching a fence that ran across our direction of travel. Brian suggested that I go one way and he go the other for about half a mile and look for a break in the fence. I went about a third of a mile when as luck would have it I ran into a trail marker sign. The trail at this point was well marked and easy to follow. We past near Ernest Lake although it was not with in sight. We then entered into a steep down hill climb into a really beautiful canyon cut by Conant creek. Jedediah Smith used this pass in his travel north into Yellowstone country. At the bottom I decided to break for about a half hour and Brian decided to trek on to Coyote Meadows. The water of Conant creek was cool and I was very dehydrated and took in about half a gallon. The trail to Coyote Meadow required the crossing of Conant creek to begin. Looking across it really appeared to be shallow and not too wide. Tired and not wanting to remove my boots again I had the bright idea that I would just try to run across. Note Paul cannot walk on water. I ended up walking the last mile and a half with wet boots, again. The trail follows Coyote Creek to Coyote Meadows. It was a good thing I did not take any more time than I did at Conant Creek. As soon as I arrived at Coyote Meadows I started doing laundry and took a bath in Coyote Creek. I then saw Brian off away from camp making his dinner. I decided that I would join him and get some grub made. I could see off in the distance thunderstorms rolling in and just as I started to eat I could tell the rain was only a few minutes away. I had not set up my shelter and drying clothing was on the line. I hastily made my way over to the campsite and set up my Squall and got the gear inside. I just barley made it into my shelter when the rain started coming down. The crack and boom of the thunder echoing through the canyon was defining. I sat in my tent eating dinner ad listening to the storm. I would have to say that I though it was an experience to remember. I have been in many thunderstorms but the way that the canyon channeled the echo was like Gods orchestra just for me. I finish dinner and the storm seems to have broken. I come out of my tent and see Brian off in the distance wrapped up in a poncho sitting on a rock enjoying the scene around him. I return to my tent and all at peace, Goodnight.

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The wind will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."

Coyote Meadows to Willow Flats

I left Coyote Meadows camp a little before Brian. The morning was cool and humid after the previous evening thunderstorm. I was about an hour into the morning’s hike, moving up hill with my head slightly down when I walked right up on a black bear. The bear was on the trail digging for grubs. I reached for the zipper on my hip belt pocket, which contained my camera. I barely got two zips when the bear broke out in a dead run away from me. Too bad on not getting a picture, this bear was a beautiful specimen. Black bears come in many colors this one was dark black with a buckskin nose. After the encounter I moved up trail a little and waited with my camera in the ready. I was really hoping the bear would return for his breakfast.

The previous nights storm left much of the gear wet so we decided to stop for the afternoon at Hidden Coral Basin and dry things out. The flies and mosquitoes were their normal menacing selves. This sections of trail started out roughly flat snaking its way through lodge pole pine forest.

At the end of the valley the trail required a river ford and the abruptly began to climb series of steep switchbacks.

Upon reaching Dead Horse Pass it appeared to climb up the crest. I followed it for about a quarter mile where it abruptly stopped. After checking my map I got the distinct feeling that this was the wrong trail and decided to trace back to the pass. Once arriving back at the pass I surveyed the area and could see off in the distance on the other side of a field of flowers where the right trail continued down the mountain. The trail became an endless series of switchbacks. The sun was setting and I was in a bit of a hurry to link up with Brian and set up camp. I arrived at the trail junction just before dark but Brian was not around, hoah, Hoah, Hoah, nothing. This was not good. I crossed the stream and searched the other side for about a quarter mile but no luck, I decided to return and set up camp at the trail junction where we had agreed to meet up. The sun had cased to exist and I was more than a bit concerned. Had he fallen into one of the stream crossing and gotten swept down streams? Maybe he missed the intersection and went on to Green Lake. No, we were pretty clear about this spot. He was ahead of me so there was no way I could have passed him with out seeing him. I decided that I was not going to accomplish anything in the dark. That if something didn’t change by morning I would continue on to Teton Creek and report the problem to the ranger station. I fell asleep after about and hour then woke to a brightly lit moon. I at first thought it was the beam of Brian’s headlamp hoah, Hoah, Hoah, still nothing. Sleep.

Willow Flats to Miles Creek

The next morning I got up as soon as it was light enough to see. I was going to have to move fast and get to Teton Creek and assistance as early as possible.

A little after 7 in the morning I run into Brian near Crows Nest. The relief was apparent and we talked about what had happened the previous night for a while. Brian had apparently taken the same horse path that went up from Dead Horse pass. How ever he continued around the crest of the mountain until he was forced to climb down. This put him on the opposite side of the river ford from where I camped the previous night.

We continued up the trail to Green Lake where we decided to break for the morning. We spent the remainder of the morning talking, doing laundry and eating. After deciding to continue on to Granite Basin we gathered out gear an hit the trail.

The trail again took on a maze of horse paths and again we were off trail. Ending up a little further west that we would have thought the trail should be we again ended bushwhacking our way cross-country. The terrain was steep and soon brought up to a Scree field, broken rock covered the side of the mountain and the path we were to cross. The problem with this traverse it that scree will avalanche just as snow does. Every step could start a rockslide that would take you down to the abyss.

We carefully made our way across and again ended up on the clear trail. The trail down to Miles Creeks snaked it way through small canyon ending up at a steep series of down hill switchback ending up in a bigger canyon.

After getting camp situated and battling with the black flies and mosquitoes we decided to build a campfire and burn the trash we had been carrying.

"In the woods, too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period so ever of life is always a child."

Miles Creek to Teton Creek

This morning’s trek immediately went into a steep uphill climb. I had had a morning snack of corn-nuts and was doing really well moving up. Brian yelled up from behind “Damn blood your moving pretty fast, you should eat corn-nuts every morning”. As usual though with in a short span of time Brian would retake the lead. After a really steep 2 miles the trail flattened out to a more reasonable climb. The trail went through miles of waist high flowers. Looks like the horse trails got us again. Not paying attention to the land features we ended up on a horse path that went at least half a mile in the wrong direction. We retraced our steps and immediately found the correct trail. The right trail went straight over the pass and started a long series of down hill switchbacks. Upon getting to the canyon floor the trail followed Lehigh Creek I spotted off in the tree line what first look like horse but with closer inspection turned out to be two male moose. I spent about twenty minutes watching and photographing the pair before moving on. I decided that I would pick up the pace and try to catch up with Brian. We had only seen the moose cow and calf for a brief moment back at Yellowstone and wanted him to experience this. Unfortunately I did not catch up with him until reaching Teton Creek campground about half an hour later. Enjoyed an endless supply of cold water from a treated water tap.

Stopped for another mid afternoon break. I decided to do some laundry before continuing on to camp.

We passed Devils Staircase, which seemed to climb for almost a mile. Set up camp near the trail and adjacent to a large field of colorful wild flowers. Then hung the remaining gear high up in one of the lodge pole pines. We crossed the trail to where we had seen a large bolder facing the South Fork Teton Creek and sat and prepared dinner.

"For the Lord, our God, is bringing you into a good country, a land with streams of water, with springs and fountains welling up in the hills and valleys..." "Woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field, there be no place, that they may be placed alone in the midst of the earth!"

Teton Creek to Sunset Lake

The Alaska Basin trail should be ranked as one of the best trails in the U.S. Today’s trek was only going to involve about 6 miles. About a mile after starting I came across a really nice creek with a spectacular rolling waterfall. Brain had opted for a later start so I decided to wait for him here. While here I met and spent some time talking to a couple from Philadelphia. Brian arrived while we were talking and they decided to move on. We decided to break at this spot for about another hour. I decided to move on a bit and Brian remained back at the falls. The trail was so spectacular that I just kept moving wondering what surprise the next bend would bring. Before I knew it I had arrived at the junction for the trail leading to Sunrise lake. I decided to wait here for Brian and after about an hour laid myself on a big bolder for an afternoon nap. When I woke I observed the couple from Philadelphia sitting on a distant bolder. They waved me over and asked me what this rather large rodent looking animal was sitting on an adjacent bolder. I told them that it was a Marmot. They then started quizzing me about the names of the mountains surrounding the area. With map in hand I rattled off the names as I identified them.

Watched two parachutists jump near Grand Teton and glide around for what seemed about an hour.

They offered me some beef jerky and other snakes, I shyly declined but was easily persuaded. After about an hour they left and I returned to my rock for a second nap. After about 4 hours in this spot I started to become concerned about where Brian was. I waited a little over an hour longer then decided to make the half-mile trek up to Sunset Lake. The trail to Sunset Lake started as a steep climb up a succession of switchbacks then dropped down into a bowl that contained the lake. As I was making my way down into the basin I was met by a kindly old gentleman about halfway down. He asked me if I was Mountainblood and with a grin I responded that I was. He told me that Brian had been there most of the day and that he had taken another trail that would loop around and make an approach on the lake from the direction I had just come. I broke out my map and sure enough there were two trails that came up the Alaska Basin to Sunset Lake. Brian had taken one and I took the other. Richard told me that Brian was concerned that I had had a problem and decided to go out and look for me. I could here off in the distance Brian setting off the M-88 we had brought along to scare off bears. I returned signal but with little effect. He told me that Brian’s pack was hung in a cluster of trees at the top of the hill. He said that Brian had said that he would be back no later than 2300 hours. I started to make chase since I was told that he only had a 15-minute head start on me but then decided that I would just be chasing him around the loop. I decided that it would be better to set up camp and wait for him to make the three-mile loop. I’m not sure how long it took but it was a very anxious time. Just before dark Brian made his return to camp and we talked about the days excitement.

I watched as the sun went down and the cold settled over the basin. This night I could not have picked a worse campsite. The ground was flat but full of the little mounds of grass that made everything bumpy. This was going to be a hard nigh with a planned early wakeup for the climb over Hurricane Pass.

“Is not the sky a father and the earth a mother, and are not all living things with feet or wings or roots their children?” “Give me the strength to walk the soft earth, a relative to all that is!”

Sunset Lake to Bradley Lake

The morning started out really early and really cold. It was barely light and their was a light frost on the ground. The wind was brisk and cut like a knife through my thin summer clothing. I was wearing almost everything I had brought. Despite being cold and tired I was really having a great morning. I didn’t know it at this point but it would turn out to be the best day of the trip. The climb up to Hurricane Pass was not near the struggle I had anticipated. The trail was surrounded by vistas of the surrounding mountains. Shown in their entire splendor as the sun rose to blanket the surroundings with the orange of a stunning morning sunrise. After crossing over Hurricane pass the trail breaks out into the most extraordinary view of Cascade Canyon below. The Cascade Canyon trail starts to switchback down into the canyon. You first pass by the breath taking Schoolroom Glacier. The blue of the glacial ice is beyond description. At its base a waterfall erupts cascading all the way down the canyon. Adjacent to the trail is breath taking waterfall one after another.

About two thirds of the way down I come across a bull moose feeding on water vegetation. I spent about 20 minutes watching and filming this magnificent creature before moving on. Further along the trail I ran into a snow hare. The poor animal seemed uncoordinated trying to hop on the bare rock of the trail. I think their feet were better designed for locomotion on snow rather than rock. Anyway it was a sight to see.

A short hike to a low-elevation lake Bradley Lake was named for a member of the 1872 Hayden Expedition. On the way up the trail Brian and I come across a black bear cub feeding on vegetation. We must have spent an hour taking pictures and just watching it. I told Brian that this was probably one of the most dangerous bears in the park. The reason being was that mama was probably somewhere near by. I really did feel for the poor animal, it had little fear of us and seemed at ease with our presence. That comfort would lead to trouble as it grew into adulthood and started getting itself into trouble.

“Without enough wilderness America will change. Democracy, with its myriad personalities and increasing sophistication, must be fibred and vitalized by the regular contact with outdoor growths – animals, trees, sun warmth, and free skies – or it will dwindle and pale.”

Bradley Lake to Death Canyon

While packing for the days hike Brian and I talked a bit and were in agreement that yesterday’s trek through Cascade Canyon seemed to be the grand finally. How could you possibly top such an experience? The previous days bear sighting did add something to this days hike. Besides our own sighting we had heard stories along the trail of people seeing five or more bear a day along the trail. We followed along the Valley trail, which the park service trail signs call the WhiteGrass trail to Phelps Lake. There are numerous theories about the origin of the Name, Death Canyon. Perhaps the most plausible contention is that in 1899 a member of Thomas Bannon’s survey party wandered into the canyon and was never seen again. I think they were anticipating finding my dead carcass somewhere along the canyon trail. The climb up wasn’t incredible brutal. Once we started the climb just past the Phelps Lake, lake access the temperature seemed to sore. To make matters worse I was just about out of water. Toward the top I came across Brian sitting on a rock in the middle of the creek. I grabbed the adjacent rock and started to replenish my water supply. The only problem with this spot is it was lacking of shade. We decided to move up and quickly became aware that a storm was moving into the canyon. Looking like it was going to downpour any minute I started looking for cover. The rain never did come but the shade did feel nice. Just before entering into the canyon area where camping is permitted we crossed a bridge with some fallen logs on the opposite side. I decided that I would have dinner at this spot and Brian decided to move on to camp. Brian was to scout a camp and leave a bandana to alert me as to where he had left the trail.

Death Canyon to Moose Visitors Center

The previous evening Brian and I had discussed the possibility of heading for one of the exit points. We were concerned about not having a lot of time to retrieve his jeep and getting me to my flight back to Austin. The severity of the storms that were coming were very apparent. I have never changed plans because of the weather but we had heard about the incidents with lightening in the other parts of the country. Letting discretion be the better part of valor we cemented of plan to exit. This morning we got an early start. Just after getting out of the sack I could see the storm clouds moving in. I hastily packed my gear wanting to get everything in the pack and covered before the storms let loose on us. Just as I got the last of the gear off my ground cloth and into my pack the rain let loose. Shortly after getting on the trail the rain stopped but you could see their was more to come. I continued down thru the canyon past the ranger cabin. I spotted a large porcupine off in the brush and stopped for a picture. The rodent seem to be rooting around in the under brush and paid little attention to me. I continued down the trail and ran into a young moose working its way up the trail. Upon spotting the young moose turned away and started walking down the way it had came. This moose would keep a steady pace in front of me. Every now and then it would stop and look beck to see what I was up to. This went on for about a mile down the trail.

Once reaching the Death Canyon trailhead their was another 4 miles of a road match. The rain was now coming down pretty heavy. Once I reached the main road several people would slow down and talk to me as I walked in the pouring rail. It struck me funny that they never offered me a ride. It was as if I was just another attraction at the park.

I arrived at the Moose Visitors center about 9:30 in the morning. Brian had left a note with the Ranger as planned to let me know that he had arrived and was going to hitchhike the 45 miles to Old Faithful to retrieve his jeep. I began the long monotonous wait for his return. Round trip was 90 miles so I estimated roughly 3-4 hours. Four hours cane and went then five, then six, then seven. At 5 o’clock I went into the ranger station and told then what was going on and asked if he could call over to the Old Faithful backcountry Ranger station and ask if the jeep was still parked out front. They said that it was no longer parked out side so I continued to wait. About fifteen minutes later Brian pulled up. We made the drive into town and stopped in at the visitor’s center to check on a bunkhouse I had heard about called the Anvil House. I called the Anvil House on the courtesy phone and was told they had room. We made our way over looking forward to a shower and some food. After checking we made a quick run over to the local Dairy Queen for a burger and fries.

For the LORD is a great God, and a great King above all gods. In his hand are the deep places of the earth: the strength of the hills is his also. The sea is his, and he made it: and his hands formed the dry land.

Jackson Hole to Austin

The morning started early enough. Not wanting to wake the others I made my way to the day room with my gear. I would be packing for the last time on the trip. I would need to carefully remove the items that would be forbidden on the flight home to avoid any problems. I was already wishing I were back out on the trail. One of the few regrets I would have about the trip was coming down early to avoid the weather. I think that being socked in on the mountain would have added a whole new dimension to the trip. We had heard about a Farmers Market that was held on the town square on Saturday morning. This was our destination in search of breakfast. The prices for the market good we rather steep and we decided to move on. While looking for a breakfast buffet that we had seen advertised at the market we past by another at a local steak house. The buffet was all you can eat at a fair price. After breakfast we went for a drive in the country in search of pronghorn antelope. One of the few big animals still on our must see list. They would remain elusive and on the things unseen along with the Grey Wolf, Grizzly Bear, and Bald Eagle. We ended up at the overlook of the Gros Venture geologic area. The slide was one of the largest land movements in the world. On June 23, 1925 the rock and debris slid down from an altitude of 9000 feet into the river below damming the river. About 4 in the afternoon we made our way to the Jackson Hole airport and made our final good-byes. I would be making an overnight flight and Brian would be driving some 1600-mile home.

The day of the prophetic Mountain Man is also over. Gone is the need for a head covering of hide and hair. Instead, the intimacy of the priesthood calls for a silken covering. Gone also, is the adventurous times of individuals seeking their own fortune by following "...the river...to its source." It is time for the cave-dwelling Mountain Man prophets to come down out from the wilderness and seek employment. Many of us have been badly in need of "the watch and care of a Christian church." At times we staggered nearly dead from thirst into churchcamps that had never seen anyone like us before. Some almost died from shock. We have enjoyed the rare air of mounaintop experiences and have partaken of pure streams untainted by mud or silt, and we have known both the thrill and the agony of combat.

We have learned to live on life's cutting edge with one eye constantly open. But now it is time to leave the isolation, clean our buckskins and our speech, and seek the wagon masters and wagon trains.

Epilogue

What makes a good trek is being able to hike your own hike. Having a hiking buddy that supports that notion makes it a great hike. The downfall of this idea is that it involves an incredible amount of communications. Not have incurred some of the linking up problems that occurred on this trip I’m not sure how to avoid future problems of this nature.

There would be no passing through fields full of grazing elk, and pronghorn antelope, and waking up to meadows full and giant bison. It did however offer many other exciting surprises.

I know I said it before but one of the few regrets I would have about the trip was coming down early to avoid the weather. Looking back up at the mountains from the Moose Visitors center just left me feeling that I was leaving with unfinished business.