It’s only Sunday, and yet it feels as though we’ve been on vacation for a week. Jay wakes and is already in need of hot food. Part of keeping expenses down is that we pack about 85% of our food into coolers and crates; this also helps with Caroline being a vegetarian, as food options on the open road are not very considerate of vegetarians. Jay is also vegetarian, so the backseat is well-stocked with provisions. After hearing Caroline and I reminisce about previous breakfasts here at Signal Mountain Lodge, Jay is focused on having blueberry pancakes to start his day.
We tried to get an early start to the day after our late night yesterday, but by the time breakfast was finished, it was nearly 9:00. This worked to our advantage, though, as the clouds that had been shrouding the Tetons had started to pull back. A drive south on the String Lake Scenic Road takes us to the shore of Jenny Lake. Shoes come off, and with the snowy Tetons set against a cloudy blue sky, Jay and Caroline step into the lake’s frigid waters.
The south exit over the Snake River is how we find our way out of the park, heading north toward Moran Junction. The road skirts the park boundary, offering a more panoramic view of the Teton Range. At the junction, we spot a moose just off the road chomping in the grasses and are the first car to stop to watch the moose do moose stuff.
Passing Jackson Lake as we leave the Teton’s we take notice of the clouds coming in hard and fast. Further up the road, we pull over at the same place we stopped at yesterday for more shenanigans in the snow, with Caroline taking a direct hit to the head, but she quickly recovers and has Jay cowering as he’s about to get an ear full of snow. Behind Jay, while he’s mounting his offensive, the sky has turned black.
A truce is called, and Caroline turns to demonstrate her German Girl Scout skills, helping teach Jay snowman building. This is his first snowman; well, it wasn’t so much a snowman as it was the principle behind snowman building meaning they built a blob of snow. We were concerned with the weather and had something else on our agenda: watching Jay make his first snow angel.
Approaching the Continental Divide, the snow lets up for a moment before it starts coming back down again. Time to move on and get a bit closer to our ultimate destination, as we have no idea how to read the weather. We arrived early at Old Faithful Inn, and as luck would have it, room 225 was ours. It was too early in the day to take the keys to our room as it was still being serviced, but we did check in, so there’s that.
Back outside, the snow is coming down ever so lightly, and the sky is bland without definition. We head to the benches on the boardwalk ringing the Old Faithful Geyser, and with only about 35 other visitors, we wait until the geyser blows, but before it’s finished, we are taking cover from the wet, blowing snow.
Bad weather or not, we are here for some serious sightseeing and will not be easily persuaded to sit in the warmth of Old Faithful Inn by the fire, sipping hot chocolates for hours while relaxing and soaking up the incredible ambiance – yet. We cross the road dividing Upper Geyser Basin from Black Sand Basin, don our ponchos, and get out to see Yellowstone stuff.
Cliff Geyser is spouting furiously as we stroll down the boardwalk. Ragged Geyser is bubbling along; the sun makes a momentary appearance on an anonymous spring, while the famous Handkerchief displays a small geyser. Rainbow Pool and Sunset Geyser are both beautiful and full of vibrant colors, even under an overcast sky. Heading back up the boardwalk, the clouds are giving way to patchy blue skies, so we head over to Emerald Pool to watch the colors of this hot spring become luminous as the light of the sun falls into it.
With a break in the weather during our approach to Madison Junction, we are now part of a convoy, backed up as a small herd of Bison between a cliffside and the Firehole River marched along as slowly as Bisonly possible. The herd had about half a dozen calves in tow that would periodically stop dead center in the street to feed. A park employee tried futilely to guide the Bison out of traffic, but the Bison had their schedule, and that was that. Forty-five minutes and a mile later, we are once again on our way.
Turning east at Madison, another potential for a traffic jam is underway, except this time, it is a human who is causing the trouble. A coyote is staring at the driver of an SUV while standing dead in the middle of the street. He made for a cute photo of a coyote still wearing its winter coat but I can’t help but feel pity for the animal who gets a taste for human food and becomes a nuisance to the park and has to be put down. I could also imagine that maybe the coyote was communing with the driver in some kind of psychic bonding that had entranced the animal into ignoring oncoming traffic while staring deeply into the soul of the driver. What is more likely is that my first intuition was correct, and the coyote was waiting for potato chips and cookies.
The Artist Paint Pots were our next destination. It doesn’t feel like a popular site and has always felt remote, thus providing us a sense of what it might have been like for early explorers to find for themselves the magic of Yellowstone. Now, with its own parking lot and a much shorter trail compared to our previous visits, the Artist Paint Pots are more accessible than ever.
Today was as private as any other visit, probably due to the inclement weather. Slipping in the mud, we scrambled up the hillside trail, where the landscape was gray and the horizon bland. The mud pots are not as exciting as before as we stand here in inch-deep mud while being snowed on. Any other visit and we can linger here for half an hour watching and listening to the mud boil, splatter, and pop.
The road to Norris Geyser Basin is relatively clear, with the weather still holding to a state between gray and occasional light snow showers. We turn in the direction of Mammoth Hot Springs and pass Roaring Mountain which is pretty quiet today. While we drive by small lakes, creeks, and the Gardiner River the clouds part intermittently, offering glimpses of billowing clouds against a blue background. Approaching Mammoth, the clouds are heavy, and it appears that heavy rain is falling on Gardiner across the border in Montana.
We are chasing fragments of blue skies today and leave visiting Mammoth’s hot springs for tomorrow if time allows. We turn east and head towards Tower-Roosevelt, stopping at Undine Falls. At the Blacktail Deer Plateau, a spontaneous parking lot has formed on both sides of the road. Like all good Yellowstone tourists, we pull up and ask what everyone is looking at. About 74 miles away, on the side of a mountain, are three specks, not quite subatomic, but not yet cell size either: a grizzly mother and two cubs. I’m trying to get excited but this is like looking at Jupiter during a full moon night with the naked eye. Of course, I’m jaded; a few years ago, we watched a grizzly and her cub eating forest-kill 100 yards away from us. Someone tells us that there’s another bear further up the road near Tower Fall, so we make our way to the next sighting.
Cars are scattered along the edges of the road in a willy-nilly, haphazard parking style. Fashion-conscious photographers uniformly dressed as “stay clear, we are professionals” photographers dot the landscape. With barrel lenses stretching nearly to the bear itself, the annoying professional photographer’s sprawl in all directions, angling for the best location to photograph a black bear and its two cubs frolicking near the base of a tree. My measly digital camera with a simple 3X zoom would be embarrassing to whip out at this point. I feel less like a man than the real men around me, brandishing their impressive tools.
Bear watching for the day is finished; we feel lucky enough that we’ve seen both species of bear that live here in Yellowstone. Our turnaround point is coming up after we make our way through a stretch of the Lamar Valley. The clouds are hanging tough, and the blue skies we were chasing are not materializing so we turn around to check out Mammoth.
Before ever reaching Mammoth, the snow has begun falling again, except this time, there seems to be sincerity about it. With evening coming on fast and the snow coming down even faster, we again skip Mammoth and decide it’s best that we cover those last fifty miles through the mountains as quickly as we can. At first, the snow is fun, and we are certain that although we are being quick about things, our haste is unwarranted, and soon the snowfall will subside again, and we can get back to sightseeing.
Yet the snow comes down harder. The road is getting slushy. Ok, maybe the snow isn’t that fun; it’s made even less fun by the sign we just passed that said snow tires or chains are required beyond this point. We hadn’t seen a sign like that on the way out or on the way into the park the day before or earlier in the day as we left those beautiful sunny Tetons. With newfound determination, meaning I step on the gas, we are moving down the road with the intent to stay ahead of the slush and, god forbid, the ice.
OH MY GOD, the Bison are accumulating snow, a sure sign that this is becoming a blizzard, and we risk being trapped on this road only 25 miles from the warmth of room 225. Um, excuse me, I freaked out too soon; a few more miles and the snow began to subside once more. Matter of fact the sky breaks up a little to throw glimpses of a faraway sun peering in on us.
This break in the weather affords us one more stop. We park in an empty lot at the Fountain Paint Pots in the Lower Geyser Basin. We pass the Celestine Pool with its steam rising against a small patch of blue sky mostly covered with heavy clouds. On our right is Silex Spring, and we take a final glimpse of its turquoise waters that appear to be glowing in the steam. At the Fountain Paint Pots, for which this area has been named, the shadows and cloud cover make distinguishing any detail of this bubbling cauldron difficult at best. Fortunately, there’s still enough light to enjoy the deep red of the Red Spouter. Our imagination fills in how dramatically the red stands out against the other features when the sun beats down on this hot spring. Clepsydra Geyser looked most dramatic with the dusk sky behind the boiling geyser that almost never stops erupting water. Finishing the loop trail, Celestine Pool’s overflowing waters captured the early evening’s blue shades for a final push to a day that, although we didn’t have the greatest weather it was remarkable nonetheless.
Room 225, here we come. The key is in my hand as we climb up the creaking 100-year-old stairs to the floors above. Just the way we remember it, not a thing out of place, not one new thing added, perfection.
Downstairs, we fetch three hot chocolates before grabbing some comfy chairs to bask in the rich light and echoing sounds that are unique to this charmer of an Inn. Getting in early this evening and having this extra time to sit, watch, listen, and talk is the icing on the cake; for Caroline and me, this is one of the pinnacles of living and being fully alive.