I had made plans to hike up the Lamar River, a little ways, just to see what it looked like. Last year, I had gotten to the edge of the Thorofare, and saw a NEW VIEW in Yellowstone. I thought that maybe, around the corner from where everybody drives, there might be another new view, so when the time to sign up for trips came along, I got a couple of nights a little ways up the Lamar River Trail. Not far, mind you, but maybe enough to see something new. When the time came closer, I found that Scatman and TractorDoc were in the area the day ahead of me, and that Kevin (I can never remember his online name, but it's K-something-R) wanted to come, too. So on the appointed day, when it was cold-ish and rainy-ish and very, very windy, Kevin and I began our hike, crossing the footbridge, and walking along the trail.
After a mile, we turned up a little valley, and there, not too far off the trail, were a number of bison. I had picked mid-September for the hike because I hoped the bison would be out of rut, and calm again. These were pretty sedate, and we cautiously walked by them.
We noticed many of these bugs along the trail. They appeared to be robust crickets.
Look! No cars!
The campsite is almost straight ahead, down the hill. The valley to the left is the Cache Creek valley. I'd had reservations to go up that valley about 8 weeks before, but it was projected to be 90-95*, so that trip got swapped for another trip. It was still hot, but not as hot. Maybe it was. There were a couple of hikes this year that baked my brain.
Walking through a grassless area, I looked down and saw a garter snake. He was moving slow. It's time for him to find a winter home.
The first site was just over the lip of this hill. The view shows where we went in the next few days.
Kevin led down the switchback.
I had spent a night at this site a few years ago, and remember this descent as a muddy, manure-covered, rooty mess. I don't remember switchbacks, but if there were, there were also a few spots where you just had to fend for yourself. This was much nicer, though, some of the descent was still like riding ball bearings down.
We walked a small bench above Cache Creek, through sagebrush, to the campsite. It had been decorated with a variety of rocks, and petrified wood.
There was also, um, this. It looked a little like a Gaboon Viper, if you just glanced quickly at it. It wasn't. TractorDoc looked at it and said something about pelvis. It was kind of creepy, and very near the food pole.
That evening, a bull moose showed up. He stood at the top of the little hill and looked at us for a few minutes, and then picked his way down the hill.
It was like synchronized swimming, all the guys got up and headed toward where the moose had gone, cameras at the ready. I got sucked into the vacuum and went too, but a distance behind. After all, there was a huge moose over there, complete with antlers, and I definitely wasn't the fastest runner.
The guys were at the edge of the creek, watching the moose drink, but keeping an eye on the bison.
The moose finished his drink, and headed toward the brush.
At one point, the bison and the moose both looked at each other. They both headed off the way they had been headed.
There was a pretty sunset. We each got about seventy-eleven-million photos.
When we woke the next morning, it was quite chilly. Someone, I believe Kevin, started a fire. It was an excellent idea. It was an excellent fire.
Kevin went over to where the ford was. He looked up and saw bison on the edge of the little ridge above the ford, and then he saw them pour over, directly at him. We could see him running our way. He said he was yelling, but I didn't hear him. TractorDoc said he was running for his camera, and scampered off to get his camera. I just watched. Kevin stopped, and turned back to watch a large group (70?) of bison stampeding down the hill, and across the river. It was quite a show, but then I wasn't anywhere near them.
Scatman and TractorDoc were headed up Cache Creek, toward Republic Pass. Kevin and I were to head up the Lamar Valley. There was plenty of time for Kevin to go up Cache Creek a ways, to see Wahb Springs, and come back. It was about 2 miles, and I decided to watch the fire, while Kevin did a four mile day hike. The hikers didn't go back to the trail intersection, instead they followed a horse trail above the creek. I'm sure the others will post pictures of the springs and Death Gulch.
I have pictures of the fire.
Two sets of horses came by. I believe both were guided groups.
Kevin came back and we had lunch, and the next group arrived. We sat and talked for a while, then we put on our packs and crossed the creek. Our site was about 300 yards away. We had to get across the creek. We walked along, trying to find a most shallow spot we could. Honestly, it was hard walking. In the water, which was shallow, the rocks were slick, and they moved around a lot. We got across the creek though, and walked to our new site.
The creek water was moving, but it had a good deal of uckiness (sediment).
In the morning, I got out of my tent, and looked to the bear pole area, to see if Kevin were up. I saw his legs moving, but then noticed he seemed to have four legs. And a hump. Oh. I spoke to Kevin's tent, telling him we had a grizzly in camp. He poked his head out of his tent, and somewhere in that timeframe, I said, "Hey bear." The bear quickly flipped the other way and left. He didn't run, but he didn't amble slowly, either.
We looked to see how far he went, but never saw him.
We saw a couple of bear prints. The boots are size 9.5, so you can tell this wasn't a big grizzly. He was big enough, though.
This was the pantry area, where I had seen the bear.
This was a pretty rock I found.
Headed to the next campstie, we had to climb a hill. I am lazy, and don't like hills. But I did it.
Looking back at camp, and sort of, toward the trailhead.
Of course, there was a bison. He looked at us but didn't do anything.
Looking ahead, there appear to be mountains and trees.
Also, there are multiple trails. Choices!
This is looking back toward the confluence of the Lamar and Soda Butte Creek.
At camp, the tent sites were on a little bluff, over the river.
The river had plenty of water, but it surely didn't cover the whole space.
Some "carpenters" had been there before us.
Shortly after setting up our tents, we had a visitor. He's in the shade, so it's kind of hard to see him, but he's in the center of the picture.
Every once in a while he would come out for a better view. He was in camp for maybe 45 minutes. Frankly, I was horrified, or terrified, or something. Kevin stayed close, sort of, and let me know when the bison had climbed the hill behind the kitchen area, and was grazing.
The sunset wasn't as good as the day before, but it was certainly nice.
Right around dusk, a different bull bison arrived. He checked out camp, and spent a lot of time rubbing the tree that my food bag was tied on. He left before dark, but not much before dark. I was worried I was going to have to spend the night on the beach, so had a hasty potty break before going down to the beach. I ended up with my knickers in a knot. TMI? Maybe. But it's not often that you get to use that line for real.
The next morning, I was awake but puttering about in my tent, when I heard Kevin say, "Something's crossing the river and headed for our camp." He had a view of the river, and with his headlamp, he could see eyes reflecting back. I could hear hooves. We thought it was probably an elk. We'd been hearing them all night. After a little bit, that one went somewhere.
I walked over to the food pole, and saw something on the ground. Oh. Ugh oh. My food bag. Apparently the bison HAD rubbed the tree my rope was tied to. Kevin had seen it hanging before we went to our tents the night before, but sometime, it had dropped. It was still closed, and nothing had disturbed it. Whew.
We were to head back to the previous night's site. The weather was iffy, though, and we decided we'd figure out what we wanted to do as we progressed toward the site.
This was a large chunk of petrified wood, at the little kitchen site by the bear pole.
It wasn't raining, but the clouds were sure hanging around.
Oh look, more decorations!
Waaaaay over there is the road and RV's and people with spotting scopes.
I wanted to get a picture of Kevin fording the creek. As I waited for him to be photogenic, I got this picture of an American Dipper. He was uncooperative and didn't look at the camera, but here's his picture anyway.
This time he at least provided a profile picture.
It's not a giant stream crossing, but you're thinking that with dry feet, aren't you?
It's about three miles back to the trailhead. The entire way is out in the open. We had seen bison and a thermal area and pronghorns on the way in. This time we saw bison and the thermals, but the pronghorns were not visible. We were watching the clouds, though, and before we had gotten too far, we had our rainwear on.
We ran into plenty of people, including a couple that had been going back to the trailhead, the day before. I'm not sure why they were doing the same dayhike.
It wasn't a super wet day, but things were soggy.
My phone camera helpfully suggested that I clean my lens. That made things much clearer.
Our trip ended, over there, about two miles later. It had been a nice trip, with lots of wildlife. Lots. Maybe too much. But, there weren't any bugs!
After a mile, we turned up a little valley, and there, not too far off the trail, were a number of bison. I had picked mid-September for the hike because I hoped the bison would be out of rut, and calm again. These were pretty sedate, and we cautiously walked by them.
We noticed many of these bugs along the trail. They appeared to be robust crickets.
Look! No cars!
The campsite is almost straight ahead, down the hill. The valley to the left is the Cache Creek valley. I'd had reservations to go up that valley about 8 weeks before, but it was projected to be 90-95*, so that trip got swapped for another trip. It was still hot, but not as hot. Maybe it was. There were a couple of hikes this year that baked my brain.
Walking through a grassless area, I looked down and saw a garter snake. He was moving slow. It's time for him to find a winter home.
The first site was just over the lip of this hill. The view shows where we went in the next few days.
Kevin led down the switchback.
I had spent a night at this site a few years ago, and remember this descent as a muddy, manure-covered, rooty mess. I don't remember switchbacks, but if there were, there were also a few spots where you just had to fend for yourself. This was much nicer, though, some of the descent was still like riding ball bearings down.
We walked a small bench above Cache Creek, through sagebrush, to the campsite. It had been decorated with a variety of rocks, and petrified wood.
There was also, um, this. It looked a little like a Gaboon Viper, if you just glanced quickly at it. It wasn't. TractorDoc looked at it and said something about pelvis. It was kind of creepy, and very near the food pole.
That evening, a bull moose showed up. He stood at the top of the little hill and looked at us for a few minutes, and then picked his way down the hill.
It was like synchronized swimming, all the guys got up and headed toward where the moose had gone, cameras at the ready. I got sucked into the vacuum and went too, but a distance behind. After all, there was a huge moose over there, complete with antlers, and I definitely wasn't the fastest runner.
The guys were at the edge of the creek, watching the moose drink, but keeping an eye on the bison.
The moose finished his drink, and headed toward the brush.
At one point, the bison and the moose both looked at each other. They both headed off the way they had been headed.
There was a pretty sunset. We each got about seventy-eleven-million photos.
When we woke the next morning, it was quite chilly. Someone, I believe Kevin, started a fire. It was an excellent idea. It was an excellent fire.
Kevin went over to where the ford was. He looked up and saw bison on the edge of the little ridge above the ford, and then he saw them pour over, directly at him. We could see him running our way. He said he was yelling, but I didn't hear him. TractorDoc said he was running for his camera, and scampered off to get his camera. I just watched. Kevin stopped, and turned back to watch a large group (70?) of bison stampeding down the hill, and across the river. It was quite a show, but then I wasn't anywhere near them.
Scatman and TractorDoc were headed up Cache Creek, toward Republic Pass. Kevin and I were to head up the Lamar Valley. There was plenty of time for Kevin to go up Cache Creek a ways, to see Wahb Springs, and come back. It was about 2 miles, and I decided to watch the fire, while Kevin did a four mile day hike. The hikers didn't go back to the trail intersection, instead they followed a horse trail above the creek. I'm sure the others will post pictures of the springs and Death Gulch.
I have pictures of the fire.
Two sets of horses came by. I believe both were guided groups.
Kevin came back and we had lunch, and the next group arrived. We sat and talked for a while, then we put on our packs and crossed the creek. Our site was about 300 yards away. We had to get across the creek. We walked along, trying to find a most shallow spot we could. Honestly, it was hard walking. In the water, which was shallow, the rocks were slick, and they moved around a lot. We got across the creek though, and walked to our new site.
The creek water was moving, but it had a good deal of uckiness (sediment).
In the morning, I got out of my tent, and looked to the bear pole area, to see if Kevin were up. I saw his legs moving, but then noticed he seemed to have four legs. And a hump. Oh. I spoke to Kevin's tent, telling him we had a grizzly in camp. He poked his head out of his tent, and somewhere in that timeframe, I said, "Hey bear." The bear quickly flipped the other way and left. He didn't run, but he didn't amble slowly, either.
We looked to see how far he went, but never saw him.
We saw a couple of bear prints. The boots are size 9.5, so you can tell this wasn't a big grizzly. He was big enough, though.
This was the pantry area, where I had seen the bear.
This was a pretty rock I found.
Headed to the next campstie, we had to climb a hill. I am lazy, and don't like hills. But I did it.
Looking back at camp, and sort of, toward the trailhead.
Of course, there was a bison. He looked at us but didn't do anything.
Looking ahead, there appear to be mountains and trees.
Also, there are multiple trails. Choices!
This is looking back toward the confluence of the Lamar and Soda Butte Creek.
At camp, the tent sites were on a little bluff, over the river.
The river had plenty of water, but it surely didn't cover the whole space.
Some "carpenters" had been there before us.
Shortly after setting up our tents, we had a visitor. He's in the shade, so it's kind of hard to see him, but he's in the center of the picture.
Every once in a while he would come out for a better view. He was in camp for maybe 45 minutes. Frankly, I was horrified, or terrified, or something. Kevin stayed close, sort of, and let me know when the bison had climbed the hill behind the kitchen area, and was grazing.
The sunset wasn't as good as the day before, but it was certainly nice.
Right around dusk, a different bull bison arrived. He checked out camp, and spent a lot of time rubbing the tree that my food bag was tied on. He left before dark, but not much before dark. I was worried I was going to have to spend the night on the beach, so had a hasty potty break before going down to the beach. I ended up with my knickers in a knot. TMI? Maybe. But it's not often that you get to use that line for real.
The next morning, I was awake but puttering about in my tent, when I heard Kevin say, "Something's crossing the river and headed for our camp." He had a view of the river, and with his headlamp, he could see eyes reflecting back. I could hear hooves. We thought it was probably an elk. We'd been hearing them all night. After a little bit, that one went somewhere.
I walked over to the food pole, and saw something on the ground. Oh. Ugh oh. My food bag. Apparently the bison HAD rubbed the tree my rope was tied to. Kevin had seen it hanging before we went to our tents the night before, but sometime, it had dropped. It was still closed, and nothing had disturbed it. Whew.
We were to head back to the previous night's site. The weather was iffy, though, and we decided we'd figure out what we wanted to do as we progressed toward the site.
This was a large chunk of petrified wood, at the little kitchen site by the bear pole.
It wasn't raining, but the clouds were sure hanging around.
Oh look, more decorations!
Waaaaay over there is the road and RV's and people with spotting scopes.
I wanted to get a picture of Kevin fording the creek. As I waited for him to be photogenic, I got this picture of an American Dipper. He was uncooperative and didn't look at the camera, but here's his picture anyway.
This time he at least provided a profile picture.
It's not a giant stream crossing, but you're thinking that with dry feet, aren't you?
It's about three miles back to the trailhead. The entire way is out in the open. We had seen bison and a thermal area and pronghorns on the way in. This time we saw bison and the thermals, but the pronghorns were not visible. We were watching the clouds, though, and before we had gotten too far, we had our rainwear on.
We ran into plenty of people, including a couple that had been going back to the trailhead, the day before. I'm not sure why they were doing the same dayhike.
It wasn't a super wet day, but things were soggy.
My phone camera helpfully suggested that I clean my lens. That made things much clearer.
Our trip ended, over there, about two miles later. It had been a nice trip, with lots of wildlife. Lots. Maybe too much. But, there weren't any bugs!
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