Day 2: Silver Gate, MT to 1A1

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On Sunday, August 19th, Margaret and I awoke to a chilly Montana morning in Ceil's Cabin; it was offset by a warm and scrumptious homemade breakfast at The Log Cabin Cafe in Silver Gate. Our short stay was a pleasant one in all respects: the restaurant, the cabin, the food, and the folks. They have my regards and I would certainly return. Furthermore, when I was looking for lodging months back, it was the best deal I could find in the area and, I believe, the only one that included breakfast.

I was still clogged with the virus' leftovers, but a decent night's sleep, a clearer mind, a tasty breakfast, and the idea of spending a week in Yellowstone had me up and at 'em. Our plan was to drive through Lamar Valley, pass through Tower-Roosevelt junction, and stop short of Mammoth Hot Springs at the Blacktail Creek trailhead where we would hike in 1½ miles and stay at 1A1 for the night.

Through the northeast entrance we went, pulling over a few times to admire the scenery and (fruitlessly) scout for wildlife. Our first automobile exit came at Pebble Creek Campground where Yellowstone Treasures recommends "a pleasant short hike to see an interesting geologic outcrop...layers of limestone about 350 million years old are exposed in cliffs in a lovely canyon cut by the creek." We saw no clear trailhead or parking for such and eventually ended up marching along a creek, up through the campground, and fifty feet or so down a "trail" we found at the edge—one that eventually disappeared between the cliffs and creek. It was quiet, rocky, and mossy, and we spied a Richardson's Ground Squirrel on the way back. Whatever we had stumbled upon, it didn't seem to match the guidebook or the map; nevertheless, we made do and it was an easy walk that yielded some interesting rock, a few photos, and our first up-close wildlife encounter.

Our next stop was a mile beyond the campground at Trout Lake. Here's what Yellowstone Treasures has to say: "a rather steep but rewarding hike of about 1 mile roud trip takes you up a hillside strewn with wildflowers to a sparkling mountain lake with meadows on two sides." The hike to the lake was a bit steep, but the short distance of 0.3 miles kept it tolerable. The views at the top and the ease of the trail circling the twelve-acre lake made it worthwhile. The sky was clear and the hilly meadows backed by peaks made for a wondrous reflection. We circled the lake (which had a number of fisherman lining its shores), welcomed the now declining trail on departure, and paused for a chipmunk along the way. As far as short day hikes with a view go, Trout Lake is a favorite; I only wish I had seen more wildlife (which is always the case).

In Lamar Valley we spotted a gathering of wildlife in the distance: numerous bison, Canada geese, a deer or two, and a coyote. I'd nearly forgot about the bison: the excitement of our first sighting has since been dampened after spending an entire week in Yellowstone, where bison are, based on my experience, guaranteed. And close-up at that. I've no doubt we saw more bison than squirrels.

Approximately thirty miles west of the northeast entrance is Tower-Roosevelt junction—supposedly a favorite of black bears; although we didn't spot a one, but we didn't hike the area either. We made our way to the small backcountry office just right of the junction, handed over our reservations, watched a required video about backcountry travel, and were on our way with permits in hand: one waterproof tag for the tent and a small paper slip for the dash. Margaret was shaken up when the video spoke of bears barging into tents at night; I assured her that this was extremely rare and a carryover from long ago when rules and regulations were nowhere to be seen. The nightly bear feeding shows (from 1890 until World War II), park dumpsters (the last closed in 1970), and lack of campsite etiquette and proper food storage, instilled bears of yesteryear with a dangerous human-food association, which in turn created predatory behavior, and thus the nocturnal tent raiding.

For each recorded fatality by bears (all species), we have approximately 8 caused by spiders, 13 by snakes, 34 by domestic dogs, 90 by bees and wasps, and 190 by lightning.
— Bill Schneider, Bear Aware

After obtaining our permits we headed to the Roosevelt Lodge for lunch; they had a wait, so we browsed the lodge and the neighboring general store, and began preparing our backpacks for the evening. Lunch took much longer than expected and we agreed to grab-and-go from the general store henceforth to maximize our Yellowstone experience.

I wanted to do two trails in the area:

1. Lost Lake is (roughly) a 2.5 mile loop that departs from the fringe of the junction's crowd. It's described as hiking "waist-high wildflowers to quiet, lilypad-covered Lost Lake" and advises to be on the lookout for moose, beavers, and black bears. The trail also passes by forty-foot Lost Creek Falls, once described in a 1903 guidebook as "a scene of quiet beauty rarely found in so wild and rough a country."

2. Yellowstone River Picnic Area is an easy 4 mile roundtrip out-and-back that travels the rim of the canyon. It offers great views of The Narrows, the possibility of meeting a bighorn sheep, and a good chance of spotting Osprey. We got our fair share of canyon-rim hiking and osprey spotting later on, but I'd still like to hike this on a return trip.

We skipped these trails for the sake of time. Still newcomers to backpacking and the Yellowstone backcountry, I wanted to make certain that we were settled in camp and "bear square" before night fell. And so we headed west towards Mammoth Hot Springs. The next wildlife encounter I recall—was it before or after the junction?—was at a roadside trailhead. A small herd of bison had decided to mosey right on through, just yards away from vehicles and a cyclist that had stopped for a snack! We were lucky enough to wedge into a spot and we lowered our windows to hear a few snorts and grunts as they passed. Unfortunately, their rumps filled my viewfinder: I was too late for a good photo.

We made good time to the Blacktail Creek trailhead. Blacktail is another name for the mule deer; they're supposedly common here year-round, but, again, we didn't spot a soul. (Which is OK. Us Denverites can get our fill of these critters any day down at Roxborough State Park.) We packed our packs, double-checked for the necessities, and hefted them to our waists and shoulders for the mild 1½ mile hike. The first bit of the trail follows the creek, passes some marshy areas, crosses a footbridge, then bows away from the creek and back again—the point where we would make camp. We traipsed through wide-open alpine meadows, our trail often swept with gentle winds and lined with yellow wildflowers and bison patties; beneath the big sky laid rolling hills spotted with trees, wildflowers, other unidentified alpine brush, and the occasional stump or rock at a distance that we would observe for signs of life. We saw one bison off to the east early on before we climbed the one hill on our route. All was quiet until camp.

The trail dropped as we neared the creek and it was there we found the marker for our campsite, 1A1, surrounded by a patch of Indian Paintbrush. We forked to the left and the short trail lead us to a line of trees and then dropped steeply into our own tree-lined, almond-shaped, and bison-pattied valley—one side a quick elevation change to the meadow from which we came, the other a thick and rocky stretch along the creek. We headed to the patch of trees at the northern end, the most viable spot for the key campsite feature in these parts: the bear pole. It, along with the wind, determined where we would cook and set up the tent—a good 100 yards or more upwind from the pole. Along this path we encountered another "1A1" sign—this one propping up a pile of antlers—and the pole was there, as expected, next to a fire pit circling a large (and unexpected) bison skull. We escaped our packs, leaned them against the trees, and ferreted out the necessary bear pole accouterments: a bear canister, a 35-liter drysack, 50 feet of utility cord, and our edible and odorous items. The ulitity cord was a tangled mess so I went to work, stopping occassionaly to scan the area. Not far into the task, I rose my head towards a thicket about ten feet away and met the gaze of a Yellow-bellied Marmot! As would happen all week, I quickly pointed, sputtered out a string of Margaret!'s, and dashed for my camera gear. Margaret sweet-talked the cute critter as I put my camera to work and we soon discovered more of the large ground squirrels in our midst. One felt we were too close and dashed a few feet away to proclaim this breach of personal space with an outburst of squeaks. After a while I was pleased with the photos I had taken and finished setting up the bear bag. At that point no marmots were in sight so I approached the thicket and peeked over the edge—a steep, rocky wall of 20 feet or so that dropped to the banks of the creek—and spotted a marmot perched on a ledge. That was our last marmot encounter and Margaret and I marched across our little meadow for the evening, usually knee-high in brush, and counted out an approximation of one hundred yards.

On the other end, roughly equidistant from the creek and some fallen trees, we found the clearest, most level, most bison-patty-free spot we could, and propped up my REI Quarter Dome T2 Plus—a great tent! Sometime during the process I fired up the SPOT to "OK" the inboxes of family and friends and our chores were largely complete; gathering water and cooking dinner remained. Our loads now much lighter, we headed to the creek with our water bottles, two Nalgene cantenes, an MSR Miniwork EX Water Filter, and the ever-present bear spray and photography gear. Water retrieval was uneventful—me pumping and Margaret distributing and scouting for wildlife—and with daylight still at our disposal we decided to explore the creekside and pay another visit to the marmots. We racked up some scratches maneuvering through the bush and, although our trip lacked marmots (but not their scat), we stumbled upon more bones. We found a skull with a full set of antlers, a spine, and what looked like numerous vertebrae; perhaps the remnants of our campfire fixture?

Our creekside adventures were over and evening was expected to fall soon, so we rallied the cooking gear, paid the bear bag a visit, and prepared Backpacker's Pantry's Pad Thai. Some noodles came out not-so-cooked and I agreed with Margaret that it was more spicy than flavorful. Nevertheless, in the wilderness such shortcomings are easily overlooked and appreciated for what they can provide. Dinner was quiet, except for a busy squirrel that raced back-and-forth and gave us a chattering now and again. Afterward we changed into warmer layers, stuffed the bear bag with our food, garbage, odorous items, and cooking clothes, gave it a hoist, and scanned the nearby cliff for marmots before heading to the tent and hunkering down.

The night was still, quiet, and unexpectedly warm.

View all photos on Flickr

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