The Grand Tetons
The Grand Tetons, Wyoming—June 18-24, 2023
With some coordination and some luck, Michael, Chris, Ryan, Jonell, and then I met up at Persephone Cafe in Jackson. Michael and Jonell were coming from Butte, and I was coming from my last camp spot in Idaho (Falls Campground, near Irwin). Michael and I could text each other, so we knew we’d be there almost at the same time. I was a bit late coming over the pass on Hiway 22 from Victor to Jackson Hole. The descent on that road made my heart race and swell. Not only actually being away from the west coast into the core of America, but the sheer beauty of the land in all its lushness was purely thrilling.
I found the crew at the outdoor cafe, and we started to get acquainted, a process that continued to sweetly unfold over the week. I finished Jonell’s breakfast, Michael got me another coffee, and we wandered around the town a bit to buy beanies and whatever else we were might need or want.
From there, we headed off to the park, which was a gorgeous drive of about an hour. The skies were heavy, but the mountains and meadows all around were softly showing off. We reconnoitered at M 286 and began to set up camp. Michael had thought about and brought everything we could possibly need or use. His car was like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag as he pulled things out that should never have fit, but did. We had a canopy, tarp, tables, stove, chairs, propane tanks, lights, and all manner of gizmo for managing the wilderness. Being bear aware was top of mind, so proper food handling and storage became everyone’s job. Michael’s teepee and wood burning stove was a marvel, as much for its modernity as its traditional wisdom.
The rain began falling for real just after it all went up. We were dodging the drips and falls all during the final prep of Michael’s taco dinner. Many trips were made during the week for more firewood, groceries, and wifi. Despite the weather, high spirits prevailed and delicious food helped that along. Frank and Cristiana eventually arrived and had to set up on already wet ground. But they seemed not to be put off. The excitement of the first night took a bit to wear off. I went to bed early, my usual fatigue from driving and chilliness.
We had plenty of rain the next day, Monday 6/19, off and on, and started it off with a yummy breakfast. Gathering our wits and energy, we took a spin in the cars around the park. Frank and Cristiana often did a version of the outing all their own. We took a look at the lake (Jackson Lake) and the bottoms of the mountains, well shrouded in mist and mystery. They would remain at least partially hidden for another day.
Tuesday, some of us went down to the lake for sunrise. Then, after another delicious and hearty breakfast, we all went out to hike Two Ocean Lake. The sunrise had not been super inspiring for photos, and Jonell went out looking for wildlife. The hike was about 6.3 miles total, very muddy, but absolutely beautiful and green and lush. The trail ran through meadows and forested areas, the lake usually visible. We had a mix of light rain and clouds, with the sun beaming through as the hike progressed. Several times, we heard a low-pitched thumping sound that confounded everyone. It turned out to be a ruffed grouse mating call. We stopped frequently to take photos of birds, flowers, trees, and fungi. It was soon apparent that the hike would take too many hours at the rate we were going, so we picked up the pace. We made it back to the cars and then to camp by 5 ish. Pizza for dinner from the local place.
Wednesday we all got up for sunrise at Oxbow. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but was so glad I did, despite the 32 degree temps. Lots of other people had the same idea. I hunkered down in one spot, while the shooters roamed and repositioned. The pre-light was very subtle. In time, the light broke, the colors emerged, and the splendor happened, captivating all present. Michael and friends are all so encouraging and collegial with one another. It’s so nice to be around that kind of camaraderie. We returned to camp and ate this and that. I went down to the lake to do some yoga, happily finding myself completely alone with the mountains for all kinds of inspiration.
More than once on the trip, and certainly in this particular moment, I found myself on the brink of tears with the utter majesty laid out before me. I try to conjure a sense of geologic times in a feeble effort to imagine the massive tectonic shifts, the heaving, and uplift, and the grinding and patient erosion that created this majestic landscape. It is a source of endless wonder to think that it took millions of years to create the scene where I found myself in that moment. All I could do was be grateful for it, and stretch and breathe.
A bit later, we all joyfully packed up and readied for the afternoon on the boat Michael had rented ahead of time. We completely lucked out with the sunshine and water conditions. We boarded with our snacks and gear, got some quick instructions, settled into our warm and comfy seats, and took off to tour the mountains from the water vantage. It was a strong dose of sun after such a long, cold wait. Spirits ran high as we trolled the huge water below Mt. Moran. The water roughed up on the way back as the wind picked up. Jonell made it back without throwing up. We had a quick and easy hot dog dinner at camp. Then, sunset at Jackson Lake Lodge, I think? More of the light show that happens there all day, every day different.
Thursday, folks went to see the sunrise at Schwabacher (27 degrees). Chris and Ryan had stayed up late and gotten shots of the stars near Mormon Row. That was a beach day for me and Michael. We hung out at the water just talking, finding rocks and frogs, and napping. Returned to camp for leftover hot dogs and fetching the paddle board, which we each took out. Chris came along at one point to join us on the rocks after searching for some wifi. Ryan and Jonell went looking for bears. That evening, we hiked to Heron Pond/Swan Lake to see the sunset. The hike detoured (construction, bears) over a hill and into a forest before emerging onto a small pond with three beaver dams. A beaver was delivering a large leaf to the far side of the large dam. A few moments after it disappeared, we saw the leaf pop out the opposite side of the dam. No idea.
The mosquitos were intense, but we fended them off with product. Skirting the smaller pond, we then emerged at the larger one, which actually connects to the lake. There we saw another beaver, which eventually emerged and walked slowly up the hill. There were geese, possibly a harrier, morgansers, a juvenile eagle, and swallows. The vantage point was stellar, and the colors did not disappoint. The photographers were doing time lapses, and Michael got in an all butt wild shot. We had yummy snacks and hot noodles. The hike back in the half light of dusk was easily manageable and bear-free. Frank and Christiana had already left that day to avoid having to pack up the rain, forecast to return the next day, which it did.
Friday, we all drove to the Lost Creek hill (Ansel Adams view of the Snake River) for a short walk to another favorite sunrise spot. The weather was still lovely. It felt right to have a slightly elevated viewpoint. A golden moment, especially the family photo. We had breakfast at the restaurant at Colter Bay and got back to camp just before it started to rain again. Perfect timing, as everyone was due for a nap to catch up on lost sleep from burning it at both ends. Chris caught some z’s instead of wifi this time. We decided to drive into Jackson and eat at Hatch’s rather than trying to pull together another dinner in the rain.
Saturday morning was our last. We woke up to enough clear skies and mild temps to dry out equipment and pack up in a leisurely way. Chris and Ryan drove off for the airport. Jonell, Michael, and I finished our packing, then stopped at the store for supplies and gas before heading north toward Yellowstone and Pray, Montana.
I am still in Pray, spending a very quiet and comfortable glamping day, listening to the thunder, eating leftovers from Chico’s, and watching the light conditions ebb and flow. But, to return to yesterday, we entered Yellowstone amid more rain showers and changing visibility. Still, it was a thrill just to be in the park. Hiway 20 skirts the edge of Yellowstone Lake, then 89 runs through forest-rimmed meadows, past fumaroles, and out into wide expanses of green gorgeousness. There were plenty of cars on the ribbon of road, but they moved along until we got to a spot where someone had seen some wildlife. Then all slowed to a crawl, found places to park, and thrilled to wild beasts. The first stop was for bison. A pair of them was grazing just down a rise. One began to approach, which sent (almost) everyone into their cars. The huge animal casually walked across the road and continued on up the other side. A cowbird had been perching on its back. They eat the insects caught in the bison fur and stirred up by their hoof prints.
The second sighting was a mother grizzly and her two cubs, far up on a hillside, but within range of the long lenses. I didn’t bother trying to take photos, when I was with the mofessionals. On the next stops, we saw more bison, elk, and another grizzly, all within a couple of hours. If that is what a visitor can see from the road, reason says that there is massive wildlife in the huge expanse of the park. God bless Nathaniel Langford and Ulysses S. Grant, John Muir and Abraham Lincoln, for establishing the concept and reality of precious protected parklands.
The skies grew heavy again while we angled for position to experience and photograph the iconic Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. We scored a couple of different vantage points—the first was on “the Brink” just above the lower falls, where the heavy green and churning river slides over the rock ledge and creates a cloud of mist below. This close-up is deceiving. The water seems to fall and crash below in a mere fraction of a second. The drop is actually much farther. We could clearly see that from the second spot where the view was almost frontal. The next turnout and parking lot offered an incredible view in dramatic light, down a steep set of switchbacks and across a ridgeline catwalk to Rocky Point. We hiked back up just in time as it began to hail on us and then rain. We continued on past steaming and bubbling pits, wide grassy valleys, giant white staircases of hardened minerals eons in the making, and an unlikely rocky canyon. The last descent into Gardiner was a smooth but roiling roller coaster of 15 mph hairpins into a vast basin where the Yellowstone River has been carving away at the rock for millions of years.
Finally, we were on straightaway, passing the massive, iconic stone archway that marks the park’s north entry. We took a quick peek at Gardiner. I thought I could easily hang out there a month and do cowgirl things. The road then cruises along the river, gently winding past homesteads and hot springs. A fork in the road to the right of the river took us 12 miles to our destination, the last stretch a dirt road curving through rugged and rolling ranch land to the unlikely Yellowstone Dreamin’ encampment, where the widely spaced tents are held up by low-slung, rough-hewn posts. Inside are two huge comfy beds with soft white linens and an overstuffed sofa. Adirondack chairs are posted on each deck, as are little fake fire pits where you can make your evening’s s’mores. The fixins are in the little fridge. There are heaters, and electric blankets. Hot showers in a clean bathroom trailer and a little visitor kitchen complete the accommodations. The surrounding mountains seem to welcome the weary traveler. Quick showers and off to Chico’s Hot Springs, down another 5-mile dirt road that can’t possibly arrive anywhere. But it did, and the dinner was excellent. A real celebration at the bar with Chester the bartender. We reviewed photo highlights, had some great laughs, enjoyed the hell out of our food, and wished we could keep sharing it all.