Thursday, August 12, 2004
Old Faithful, Why Are You Surrounded By America?
08/12/04
Our walk from Summit Lake to the Old Faithful area of Yellowstone had some nice points. Seeing the steam from remote geothermal features was exciting at first.
The morning light backlit a series of steam columns. As I got closer to the Biscuit Basin, I began to see the throngs.
I waited at a junction for Spur and Apple Pie. We decided to walk to the not-too-distant falls, joining the other intrepid adventurers on a ranger tour.
The falls were dull. I did learn that the purple flower I'd been seeing was indeed a gentian. It was fringed gentian, the flower of Yellowstone.
We then entered the surreal landscape of the Biscuit Basin, an area full of geothermal features, including boiling water on the surface; still, colorful pools of steaming water; and various other results from the collapsed caldera.
We walked the footpaths and boardwalks to the Old Faithful area, stopping for more than an hour to see a geyser that was supposed to go off within an half an hour of our arrival. I was so hungry, I gave up on my time investment.
We navigated the additional boardwalks toward lunch. We left the good place to eat because of a bad first impression of the menu only to end up in the cafeteria, where the first bad impression was of the food itself. On the way to the cafeteria, we caught an eruption of Old Faithful, something I'd seen as a 10-year old.
Waiting for the eruption meant that we were part of the wave of masses hitting the cafeteria at the same time. The crowd seemed a little strange. As I struggled through finding edible food, I figured it out. Half the crowd seemed to be motorcycle people.
Sturgess! People were on the way back from Sturgess.
The noise from the Harleys was also changing the park. In addition to the roar of geothermal features was the roar of motorcycles echoed through the park. I could hear them at Summit Lake last night.
I lost track of Spur and Apple Pie in the crowds, despite our unique appearances, packs, and a designated rendezvous area. I gave up and stuck to the plan we'd discussed: permit and PO.
Permits for Yellowstone backcountry are not usually issued over the phone, but they make an exception for CDT thru-hikers. I think Karen Burger's book had something to do with that. To do it in person for someone on foot is impossibly complex. I went to the backcountry office to get our permit even though we'd already camped in the park. The permit defines what campsites on which dates.
Variation and getting caught means a fine.
While the ranger was going over the standard backcountry regulations, I mentioned my bear canister, which I'd specifically had sent here to put my mind at ease about losing food to bears. He informed me that I had to hang my bear canister. I was incredulous.
He and another ranger tried to explain why, but I just wanted to get my permit and leave.
I went to the PO next and promptly mailed my bear canister home. Fuck them. My experience in the Sierra, and the experience of Yosemite officials, is that bears are smart enough to foil any hanging system. That's what led to bear canisters.
I got my boxes, exploded my pack, and began to bring the two together. Spur and Apple Pie showed up before too long and both did the same thing. Apple Pie's getting too many tortillas from home.
Our next option was showers, something none of wanted to pass up. Upon paying our $3, but not getting towels, soap, or shampoo, we found out that as of a meeting earlier today, $3 showers did not include towels, soap, or shampoo. The word came from on-high. Since the change was so recent (and the supervisor had left for the day), the sympathetic desk staff easily capitulated towels and soap.
Among my calls while waiting for Apple Pie to finish her shower was a talk with my Mom. When I replied that I was OK (not great), she asked me if I had a broken bone. I was exasperated (for the millionth time) by her weird way of looking at things.
And now it was dinner time. We walked back to the good restaurant for a dinner I was really looking forward to after the disaster of lunch. I had an uneasy feeling as we approached, which was justified when I learned the restaurant was booked.
After dinner, we set out for a 'backcountry' site 4 miles away that we were supposed to share with a northbound CDT hiker. We arrived after dark, but found no hiker. We hung our food and discovered that we were near some thermal vents.
I slept out, wondering why water in the ground 100 feet away could be steaming, but the ground under me be normal temperature.
