Saturday, June 20, 2015

Northern Prezi Traverse (AT1Day)

I've taken a short hiatus from posting on here for a few reasons.  One, at the end of my road trip, my dear Wombat bit the dust in Sheridan, Wyoming, and that kinda took it all out of me for awhile.  After catching public transport home over the next week, I was focusing on the fact that I was back home after 2 months on the road, and finding a place for all the stuff I had brought back with me.  I didn't want to relive the less-than-great ending to my trip again, so I avoided writing about it.  However, I am back to write about a delightful hike I did since returning to Maine.

While I was stuck carless in Sheridan, Wyoming, I came across an event that was taking place along the Appalachian Trail on June 20th, the world's first attempt to have all of the AT hiked by someone over the course of 24 hours.  Each person signed up to hike a segment (or several depending on length), but there were no rules saying more than one person couldn't do the same segment.  I chose to take the segment in New Hampshire from Pinkham Notch to the Mt. Washington summit. The AT goes the long way to the summit, first hitting the rest of the northern Presidentials (Mt. Madison, Mt. Adams, Mt. Jefferson, and Mt. Clay), which comes out to about 12.5 miles.  (Technically speaking, the AT doesn't summit each of those, but I took the loops up to the summits that weren't along the AT for extra bragging rights.)

Because I had such a long day planned (12.5 miles plus the mileage of whichever route I took down), I thought it would be good to drive down the night before and camp, allowing for a super early start the next morning.  On the evening of June 19th, I got my hiking gear, food, and water together for a late night drive out to New Hampshire.  It was great to finally be doing it for real, since I had felt the tug of the hills ever since returning to Maine.  The breeze through my bedroom windows at night was a nostalgic sensation of being out in the mountains last summer.

After a slightly tiresome but still enjoyable 3.25 hour drive to Pinkham Notch, I arrived in an already mostly full parking lot.  Last summer I had heard of a neat place to stealth camp in Pinkham Notch called Square Ledge, a short trail up on the opposite side of the valley as Mt. Washington with a flat rocky top.  With a perfectly clear night in the forecast, I was planning on sleeping under the stars that night.  The climb up to the huge ledge was pretty short, and filled with spiderwebs in my face.  Upon reaching the top, I saw a few tents expertly nested between the trees, but that was no worry since I was going front and center to the middle of the ledge with my sleeping bag.

It was just shy of 1am by the time I got set up, but I was still torn between looking up and the millions of stars or trying to get some rest. After seeing a shooting star, I fell into a sleep of sorts, planning to get up at 5am.  Instead, I was awoken by a large black thing coming at me. I thought it was a hungry bear.  But then I saw it had a red headlamp on, which most bears do not.  There was a sequence of screaming between me and the not-bear, as I realized this was a human that had gotten up at 3am to take in his camera that was set up to catch the Milky Way that night.

I tried and failed to go back to sleep at this point, and figured why not just hike down to the car, get some breakfast, and start hiking. Breakfast consisted of stuffing as much food in me as possible as well as stuffing as much as I could fit into my backpack for later.  I was excited to be bringing along some BBQ kettle chips, which are my new hiking staple.

The trailhead at 4:08 am!
Aside from more spiderwebs catching my face since I was presumably the first person on this trail for the day, it was pretty easy to follow with some headlamp assistance.  I stopped by Lowe's Bald Spot, about 2 miles in, but a peek at the brightening horizon.


Lowe Bald Spot was just inside the Great Gulf Wilderness, which allows nothing mechanical, no motorized vehicles, no bikes, and even no chainsaws for trail maintenance.  All blowdowns were taken care off with AXES, which I thought was impressive.

A few more miles and the sun came over the horizon to greet me.  I consider this my summer solstice sunrise since the actual solstice was cloudy and rainy.

The earliest visible sunrise of 2015
Crossing a branch of the Peabody River is this nifty cable bridge.  It's along part of the Great Gulf Trail, which the AT shares for a bit.  This bridge wiggles when you walk on it, so other hikers, you have been warned.


The Osgood Trail I believe is what took me up to the tree line from the bridge, and despite having hiked many steep trails in the west, I think my legs forgot what steep means in the east.  Breaks were frequent, but the views behind me as I rose quickly were very rewarding.  Soon, I broke tree line, and let me tell you, to see bluebird skies over the Presidentials was quite a gift.  I'd be inclined to say it's the best weather Mt. Washington got and will get all year.

Mt. Washington (left) and Mt. Clay (right)
Going slowly to make sure I didn't lose my footing on the gnarly rocks up here, I made it to the summit of Mt. Madison, at 5367.

Summit of Mt. Madison.  Washington, Clay, and Adams in the background.
Mt. Washington is still over 6 miles away.
After many Wheat Thins, I continued to the next mountain on the list, Mt. Adams.  There is a silly hut at the col which allows people to stay there and cheat at summiting.  (Hey I admit they are probably really nice inside, but it takes the wind out of your sails when I was hiking since 4 in the morning and you arrive halfway through a summit party.)

Here is Madison Hut.


One thousand feet up is Mt. Adams, at 5774.  The second highest mountain in the northeast, and the highest one without a road.  I could see Mt. Madison behind me, and it looks like a mere pimple compared to Adams.


More Wheat Thins and slightly dipping into other snacks, I continued down into the second col, making my way to Mt. Jefferson.  Along this stretch is when I walked along the only snow on my route for the day. There were a few patches elsewhere on the range, but not on trails that I could see.

Snow on the way to Mt. Jefferson
The summit of Mt. Jefferson (5712) was crowded like all the others.  I just sat off to the side and replenished all the darn calories I was burning off.  It was around now I was starting to feel the effects of all these rocks on my feet.  Rocks are very solid compared to a soft forest bed, and after a number of miles, it gets achy on my feet.

After Jefferson was Mt. Clay, which I don't believe is counted on the NH48 since it isn't prominent enough, but it's still worth going over it instead of around it unless you are boring.  It is pleasantly rounded which is a nice change from pointy like the others.

Mt. Clay (5531), with Mt. Washington (6288) getting closer.
The trail crosses the Cog Railway that ascends Mt. Washington.  As I was going past it, a train was coming up, so I waited a minute for it to pass, which was awesome.  The steepest part of this track is 37° from the horizontal.  Which is very steep.

The purple train.  (There was orange, and yellow too)
Nearing the top of the mountain, I could look back and see all the mountains I had come from earlier today.  From left to right, we have Clay, Jefferson, Adams, and Madison.  These are the northern Presidentials, and in the best of weather today.

The northern Prezis.
Some people call the summit of Mt. Washington a zoo, and they are right.  It is a zoo for hikers.  People come here in their cars to see hikers in their semi-natural habitat.  Because of this, the line to take photos at the summit is unbearably long unless you are lucky with timing.  I arrived at the end of the Mt. Washington Road Race, and there was effectively a party on top.  This was as close as I dared to get to the summit sign. (Personally I think hikers should have their own separate sign to help reduce the congestion, or drivers just don't get to have a summit photo by law.)


I spent a good hour on top, with some delicious tortellini with pesto.  I spoke with this older gentleman who sat next to me on a bench, and he had driven up, but he said he had been all up the Maine coast recently, so of course that was a hot topic on conversation.  I decided during my extensive break that I would take Lion's Head Trail down to Pinkham Notch since Tuckerman's Ravine was still partly closed due to snow.

The Boot Spur was clear on the east side of the mountain, with the cairns as small as pebbles from this high up.

Boott Spur, the way I descended last summer.
Because I am such a rebel, I avoided the traffic jam on the trail and made my own which cut off a little bit of mileage to the Lion's Head Trail. This is a neat trail because it goes along the northern edge of the Tuck's Ravine.  From this vantage point, I could see some late season snow left over, but impressively, with ski trails down it still.  Someone was determined to ski very late in the season.

Tuck's Ravine with snow
I had restored my feet some while resting on the summit of Mt. Washington, but after several thousand feet of descent, and not on a gentle slope for that matter, the pain was back again, and I had to try very hard to distract myself from it.  I followed and eventually passed some people who were hilarious to listen to as they struggled down a nicely made staircase of rocks (thank you trail crew!)  I caught up with some guys who were going about my speed, and we talked about ideal places to hike in western Maine, since they were looking for some suggestions.  This broke up the rhythm for awhile, and we took a break at Hermit Lake Shelters for H2O.  I continued ahead of them from here along the very rocky Tuck's Ravine Trail, several miles back to the parking lot.  I was super excited whenever I saw some gravely patches on the trail, because that meant not hobbling over rounded rocks.

The timer read 11:07 when I got back to the Tuck's Ravine trailhead.  A very long day, despite starting at 4am.  I did some math on the map afterward, and the total mileage was 18.6, which isn't breaking any records, but it certainly felt like an accomplishment, having done 5 summits over 5000 feet in a day.  From the parking lot, I could see Square Ledge, where I spent several hours attempting to sleep the night before.  There is a human in the lower right corner if you zoom in enough.  He may be rock climbing, since this is a popular place for such activities.

Square Ledge, my favorite place to sleep in the world
Google Earth always makes an appearance on these trip reports, so here is the track and elevation profile of my hike from the northeast perspective.   The record I did break on this hike was the amount of vertical gain in one day, which comes out to 7500'.  I will forever feel lucky to have hiked this range in such good weather.  I should mention I had the thought of going all the way along the Presidentials to do a full traverse, but my feet were saying "no, no, no, no.  (no.)" by Mt. Washington, so I left it for another time.  Perhaps if weather is good, it would be easier in the winter because you don't have to deal with all the uneven rocks with snow cover.

Google Earth track and elevation profile
Hike Data
Miles hiked: 18.6
Time elapsed: 11.1 hours
Total ascent: 7500'

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Acadia NP, Dorr Mtn. & Cadillac Mtn.

To kick off my hiking in Maine after returning from my cross country road trip, I met up with Gugen who was staying on MDI for a week for a nice day hike up Dorr Mountain and continued on to Cadillac Mountain.

We began the day looking for a free parking spot, which I admit was a challenge in a National Park.  We had parked at Sieur de Monts, more or less, and began hiking up the Kurt Diederich's Climb up to the Schiff Path.


It was a beautiful day with dappled sunlight coming through the trees, but not burning me to a crisp.  These are my favorite conditions.

Photo cred: Ben Moon-Black
Kurt Diederich's Climb was not kidding about climbing.  It rises very quickly, and gives elevation views of Mt. Champlain across the valley to the east.

Mt. Champlain and The Tarn
After a relatively quick 1.5 miles, we had reached the summit of Dorr Mountain, at 1270' above sea level.


Continuing west along the Gorge Path, we headed to Cadillac Mountain. The rocks around here are very pretty, and I found myself comparing them to everything out west I had seen on my road trip.  I think I still like these rocks plenty.

The gorge between Dorr and Cadillac
As with any mountain with a road to the top, it was a bit strange summiting Cadillac.  I can see why they decided to put a road here, because the views of the ocean from here are quite special if you can ignore the crowds that pummel the place day in and day out.

A beautiful blue sky and ocean from Cadillac Mtn.
To mix things up on the way back, we decided to hike along the gorge between the two peaks on the A. Murray Young Path, which descends along a brook, then continues along the Kane Path to encircle Dorr Mountain to the south.  This added mileage, but it was mostly forested, and flat for the last few miles, so nothing more than a pleasant walk toward the end.

It is tricky to determine from my map, but I think the mileage was near 5.8 or so.  Elapsed time was 3.3 hours including all luxurious breaks at summits for sandwich and cracker eating.  (As you can see, we were not breaking any time records, but who wants to when you are hiking with a Gugen made from 101% imported leather?)

Google Earth track and elevation profile

Saturday, June 6, 2015

2015 Road Trip: Part 38 (End of the Road)

Sheridan, WY
Public Transport...
Day 54 - 59
6.6.15 - 6.11.15

Here I begin writing about the final leg of my journey cross country.  I've had to take some time off to get my mind of the end of this trip, which, as you will see, did not go at all as planned.  It was a recipe of failed expectations, mystery, doubt, and sadness.  But let's not jump the gun.

If you remember from Part 37 of the road trip blog, Emma and I had just driven through Beartooth Pass, which was an absolute bomb of an adventure.  We found the campsite just outside Red Lodge, MT.  We woke up to the sound of one of those gators that the campground attendants drive.  That is a sound of sheer terror when you are looking to sneak in and out of a campsite.  Yes, we had to pay.  I think he realized we were trying to get in for free.  They don't like it.

A nice view of the mountains behind the campsite
We filled up with petrol in town, and headed eastward aiming for I-90, our path back to civilization and out of the bleakness that is Montana and Wyoming.  For a change, we mixed up drivers and Emma drove. This gave me a chance to take some pictures without having to drive - a pleasure after doing it for the whole trip until now.  Though you do get quite good at it after many thousands of pretty miles that you must capture but you shouldn't be stopping on the freeway.

A Montana sunrise
I-90 loops north and south a bit because of mountains in the area, so once again we got to enter Wyoming.  It was around this point in the trip that things began to go awry.  An unfriendly noise coming from the engine.

Welcome to Wyoming (again)
Not only was this a strange noise from the engine, but it was very much like the noise I heard earlier in the year while trying to do a mini road trip to Massachusetts and New York.  That noise caused the engine to die on me, requiring a tow and an engine replacement.  To put it simply, this is not a noise I was happy to hear in the least populated state in America: one that also happens to be several thousand miles from home.

I had pulled over to assess the noise when it happened in the winter, and I was unable to start the engine, so I decided we needed to get to a town at least, to minimize towing distance if necessary.  The next town was Sheridan, WY, still a fair distance when hearing an irritating click with every engine rotation.

I stopped into an auto parts place and one of the guys said it sounded like a worn connecting rod in the engine, and that basically means bye-bye engine.  Well shit.  Also no Subaru dealerships in town, and I'm advised not to drive the car.  We went to a nearby Toyota place, since I figure at least it's Japanese, like Subaru.  Same deal from them - don't drive the car, because it will die on me.

Where to stay for the night?  What to do about the car?  Get a new engine in it, sell it and get a beater to get home?  What about all my stuff?  I also have Emma with me, and she is supposed to be back in Chicago by the 10th of June.  When stuff goes bad, it snowballs, at least when it goes bad like this.  Many unknowns as of this point.  However, we were in a town with access to food and internet for finding other things, so as far as that goes, we were set.  A nice guy gave us a ride to Starbucks with free wifi, where we found that there was a city park right around the corner from the dealership that allowed camping for a few consecutive nights.  Talk about hitting it lucky.

Here was the skyline from our site at the nice grassy park:

Sheridan, WY
I spent several hours at Starbucks just trying to figure out what the hell my next steps were going to be, hoping the internet would be of some use.  I asked for advice online, and got some advice, perhaps not the greatest advice.  People recommended driving the car until it actually wouldn't drive anymore.  This sounded like a good idea at the time, so we chose a slower road east the next morning.

Cottonwood trees
Judge me as you like.  We left Sheridan the next morning with the horrendous rattle/click coming from the engine.  I didn't have much power, considering I was running on 3.5 cylinders.  Any hill was a struggle.  Well, we made it about 40 miles and then it happened, a shudder from the front of the car, the engine shut off, and a horrible cloud of steam coming from the hood.  I was expecting an explosion of sorts, so we booked it out of the car and got fairly far away.  There was thankfully no explosion, and we came in closer to look at what happened.  Oil and coolant leaking.  Never a good sign.  Out of nowhere, a local farmer on his ATV stopped by and offered his best diagnosis.  Cracked engine block.  He recommended we push the car down into his neighbor's driveway which was right behind the car, so we didn't get run over.

Here we sat.  I had a nice talk with a guy from AAA, who told me a guy would be on his way within an hour or so.  During this period of waiting, I had nothing better to do than to think about what had just happened, and how unexpectedly bad of a situation I was in.  We watched the train with a hundred cars go by.  A few cars went by, none of which were a tow truck.  It was utterly bleak.  Beautiful country, but bleak and barren. I decided to play the accordion.  Improv music will often help me deal with hard things.  I've used it in the past, but this time was very powerful. I'm not sure if it made anything better per say, or maybe it did...hard to know.  I know that it allowed for me to cry things out, which I'll be honest has not happened in many years.  I'm quite sure that this emotional distress came through in my music.  Music conveys nothing better than emotions in my opinion.  I was at a loss.  Confusion.  Disappointment in regards to the road trip having to end on the side of the road in rural Wyoming.  Frustration, because I was no longer able to give Emma a ride back to Chicago in the form of an exciting road trip.  And the death of a vehicle that had taken me over 11,000 miles across the nation to see things I've never come close to seeing before.  It let me do things I haven't done before.  Wombat was like a close friend, and on its deathbed, I outright killed him today.  It was imminent death considering an engine replacement was not in my budget.  But now it was in my hands...I had done it myself.

Even months after the fact, this is challenging for me to write about.  I want to forget about it.  I really want to not remember this part of it at all. But you all have been following the story mile after mile, so I owe it to you.  I owe it to myself, to accept that sometimes things turn bad when you least need them to.  On the bright side, I hadn't caused any injuries from crashing or the like.  That was not enough to turn my mood around. Maybe life has been kind to me, and I haven't had to experience something challenging like this before.  It was a step into the unknown, but way more at once than I wanted.

Tow truck arrived.  Big and yellow.  Engine functional.  That in itself pissed me off.  Thanks to Emma for trying to make me pull it together so I could talk to the driver and get him the information he needed for the tow.  When you just want to dissolve into the background and not exist. He towed us back to Sheridan, and dropped Wombat off in the back lot of the dealership.

The remainder of the day, I had to choose between getting my mind as far off the subject of reality as possible, or trying to deal with what lay ahead of me.  I aimlessly browsed used cars for sale in the area, none of which were in my budget.  Engines for Wombat cost more than the car itself.  For the time being, Wombat served as a storage area for all my stuff.

I spent many hours talking with people at the dealership to see if they might have something I could buy to get me as far as home.  And many hours on the phone with parents trying to figure out the best choice to move forward.  But there are only so many hours in a day, so Emma and got our stuff and headed back to the city park.

That evening, we had a nice sunset at our disposal to let us forget about reality.

Sunset over Sheridan WY
Day 3 in Sheridan.  The sun rises no matter what happens in life.  This is refreshing.


A child had left bubble mix at the picnic tables the night before.  I blew some bubbles.  They slowly sank to the grass, but with the morning dew on the blades, the bubbles didn't pop.  Sometimes it's the small things in life.


Over the course of my stay in Sheridan, a beautifully kept (or restored) original Beetle appeared at the dealership and was parked next to Wombat.  It was like a friend for Wombat during his last few days.


After some debating of options, it was decided that Emma would take a bus back to Chicago and I would take public transport home, shipping a few large boxes home.  I got myself some bus and plane tickets, and then I had the task of getting someone to take the car from me.  I had a hard time accepting that this would be the last time I could see Wombat. Here is a portrait in honor of a dutifully done job as long as Wombat was healthy. Without him, I would not have made it to the Pacific Ocean.  Without him, I would not have hiked to many peaks in the western states.  Without him, I would not have taken a journey that put me out of my comfort zone to try new things and see new places.

Goodbye, Wombat
I found a guy to take my car for $100.  It's damn disrespectful, but considering its mileage, maybe it's not worth putting a new engine in it. With three huge boxes sent off toward Maine via UPS, and three large backpacks on my person, I headed out in the evening to catch my bus to Billings, MT.  Yes I realize that is west, not east.  I spent the evening before my departure time at Starbucks once again, and some massive thunder storms rolled in.  It was inspiring, as I love a good thunderstorm. I was also very happy to be nearly on my way home after two months on the road.

The rain let up as I started to go to the bus station, and I got talking with the crazy guy at the gas station where the bus stopped.  I was the only person getting on that night.  Being a nighttime bus, there were many people sleeping on board, so I figured I would do the same, since I was on for a few hours anyway.  I admit, even as a driving enthusiast, it was nice to have someone else in charge of my getting around for a change. Time to relax and know that things are headed the way you need to go.

I got into Billings at 12:30am.  The driver had taken my license as collateral for the ticket that I was supposed to get at the depot in Billings. He must have been tired because he gave me my license back and my bags were waiting for me, so...I just left.  I like to consider that a frugal move.

Next stop, Billings Regional Airport.  My flight plan was a bit convoluted, since I was to fly to Seattle before flying to Boston.  I was told it was very much uphill to the airport from the bus station.  It was.  It's even more uphill when you look like a pack mule with three backpacks, heading up over the bluff at 2 in the morning.  I think it was a few miles or so.  I thought it was neat looking back at the city lights since I was above it all. I had to wait an unreasonable amount of time for my flight.  I arrived at the airport at 2:30am or so, and my flight was at 6pm the next evening.  I tried to get some sleep in the not-at-all-dark airport with crappy music playing.  Glad I had my sleeping bag and a pillow with me.  I tried to drown out the bad music with my ipod, but I just ended up falling asleep due to exhaustion.  Eight AM.  People start milling about, and even though I had found a nice corner with a plant to crash for the night, I was unhappy to be woken up, but more relieved that someone didn't ask me to move somewhere else during the night.

With bags checked, I hung out in the terminal.  Planes are kinda fun when TSA isn't a bitch to you.  Luckily I did not have any explosives or whiskey with me that would cause issues.  Minutes before departure time, the plane arrived, and here she is:

My chariot west to Seattle!
Once aboard, I was placed next to a nice man from Idaho.  We talked about how we ended up on this plane and the beautiful country that is in this area.  He was a longtime native, so I'm sure he knows better than me, but as a visitor, I surely loved the area.

Flying west over the Cascades was something I really enjoyed, since it was cloudy when I had driven east through them days before.  Nothing like snowy peaks in June.


I arrived in Seatac with a 2 hour layover.  It was strange to be in a place with so many other people at once.  After being almost exclusively on my own for most of 8 weeks, this was a shocker.

While getting a bite to eat, I saw this map of the airport and found some interesting errors.  Can you see what's wrong?  (Hint: the error is in yellow.)



Okay, fine...if you didn't find it, the bathroom sign to the left of Security Checkpoint 5 is upside down.  You can only use the toilets if you orient yourself upside down first.

For the first time in my flying history, I was not placed at a window seat. But an aisle seat was good for stretching out, considering it was an overnight flight.  Respect goes to those who fly over the time zones frequently, because I was getting all messed up.  Mountain Time in MT, then Pacific Time a few hours later, and then soon on my way to Eastern Time.

I don't recall much of what happened on the plane, likely because I slept most of the way.  Having someone do all the vehicle controlling is great because you can sleep during dark or boring parts of the journey. Compared to my 800+ mile day from Indiana to Arkansas where I had to be conscious the whole time...that was a drag at the end.

I remember waking up once during the flight to see the stunning red, orange, and blue glow in a perfectly clear sky across on the opposite side of the aircraft.  This is why it would be awesome to be the pilot on overnight flights.  You get to fly into the sunrise every flight you make eastward.  I soon fell back asleep, and awoke near the landing time in Boston.

It felt strange to be in a place that I had been before.  Familiarity was something I was unfamiliar with, ironically.  I was ready for it though.  My time away had been just long enough.  I accomplished my goals.  My goals were to leave home long enough to want to come back.  I was getting tired of home.  The road trip allowed me to occupy my mind with something else, and at the same time get to see many new places, all at my own pace, and at my discretion.

From Boston, I was to take a bus up to Bangor, where I would be excitedly greeting by my parents.  Even after sleeping in the plane, I felt very tired, and surprise...I ended up sleeping for some of the bus trip into Maine.  After my transfer in Portland, I ended up watching a movie without sound on the screens up above.  It was called The Trip, oddly enough.  Without sound, I was able to pick out that it was about a couple of British friends who went on a trip in a Range Rover, meeting up with different people along the way as they stayed at B&Bs.  There was some hiking involved as well.  I'd be curious to watch it with sound some day.

I was shocked at how much a recognized the area.  This probably seems normal to people, but coming home after an extended period was just such a strange experience for me.  More dramatic than returning from a trimester at college.  I was very excited to look up a road signs and know the cities and towns like the back of my hand.  This was something I hadn't done in several months.  Very fun when you're out of practice.

The meeting of the parents in Bangor was quite exhilarating.  It is amazing how distancing yourself for awhile can indeed make things much better.  I was very happy to be in a familiar place, and finally not so alone.  I learned how to be alone on my road trip.  Sometimes it is great and healthy.  But I think most people need some interaction with family or friends once in awhile.  I was happy to have spent a few weeks with Noah on my trip, and a week with Emma as well.  But I am equally happy to have spent some more time on my own, able to explore and make my own decisions without cross-checking with a road trip buddy.

I think this is the end of my writing about the Great Road Trip of 2015. Sorry about the lack of pictures during this last part.  Taking pictures is something you think of more when things are going well.  Not so much with things go....not as planned.

I'd like to thank those who followed this trip in part, or in whole.  It was nice to know that people were out there caring about my wellbeing from afar.  If you have or haven't done a trip like this, I highly recommend trying it if you can get the time for it.  it was exceptionally healing for me, as well as broadening my horizons, literally and figuratively.  Now that I have been bitten by the travel bug, I will try to infect all of you as well! :)

Oh - here's the final map of events thus far:

59 Days, 11k+ miles by car, 173 miles hiked,
a few more by plane, a few more by bus.

Friday, June 5, 2015

2015 Road Trip: Part 37 (Yellowstone)

Yellowstone NP
Beartooth Pass, WY
Day 53
6.5.15

This day of my trip was jam packed with activities, weird earth-stuff, all kinds of weather, an enormous amount of elevation change, and a relatively small amount of distance traveled.  Our first stop was to the infamous Yellowstone NP, which as I mentioned before, was about an hour's drive south from Livingston, MT.  We had no plans for exactly what to do there, but we were in the mood for a substantial hike, and preferably something that would give us a little bit of everything.

Indeed this is what we got when talking to the guy at the backcountry office.  He suggested the Seven Mile Hole Trail, which is one of two places in the park (which is huge, mind you) that you can hike down to the Yellowstone River itself.  There were waterfalls, geysers, and other funny things along the trail that we could expect to see.  The drive to the trailhead was still a ways off, but we stopped almost immediately at this strange scene of otherworldly things called Mammoth Hot Springs.

Tidal pools that aren't tidal?  Dripstone?
There was steam coming from the water and it was hot, presumably killing everything in its path as it trickled down the slope.

Cool-looking terraces of water.
After getting several substantial whiffs of sulphur from the outgassing of the earth, we decided it was best to continue south to our trailhead for Seven Mile Hole.

Along the way, we climbed to nearly 8000 feet, snow became regular on the mountain peaks, many of which were above 10k.  What was also neat about the landscape here is that there are meadows that fill in the space between forested areas.  For all I know it could be scraggly hedges up close, but it looks all nice and soft like grass from a distance.


After a session of Nathan not being able to read maps, I finally found to correct road that went to the trailhead.  The tourists were numerous, but squeezing past them, I was able to get a sweet view of the Yellowstone River in the canyon it has been cutting for years and years.  I learned that this river is the longest undammed river in the US at 692 miles long.


The trailhead began at a glacial erratic, and according to the maps, was supposed to go along the top of the canyon for a few miles before dropping down to the base where we could get up close to the river itself.

We were presented with a very tall waterfall, the name of which I can't remember, but it's the biggest one around for sure.  I was amused to see a small patch of snow at the base of it, which is impressive for June, though I suppose high elevation can surprise anyone.

Waterfall!
We came upon a meadow.  There were many bugs.  I wanted to stay longer (as did the bugs) but we had things to do and places to be.


Not long after encountering he meadow, we heard some distant shouting and clapping in the woods.  This went on for several minutes before we found the source of all the noise.  It happened to be coming from two girls who were on their way back from the hike we were doing.  They were scared of bears, and thought that shouting, clapping, and singing would scare them away.  They apologized for being obnoxious (this is exactly what they said), and continued with the symphony of noises. Honestly, I feel bad for any hypothetical bears.  I imagine their attitude would have been somewhere along the lines of "Shut up already, would you?"

Soon the trail began to descend into the canyon, and it got noticeably hotter with each step downward.  We came across a dormant geyser, though it was still hissing steam and horrific odors from some holes near the top.  The green and pink splotches along the side are bacterial extremophiles that somehow enjoy living in a world of hot acidic water dripping over them.

Dormant geyser
Further down, we saw a series of hot springs that were bubbling, gurgling, and flinging 140° water into the air at times.  The smell was atrocious.  But it was completely worth checking out.  Just stay upwind of the steam that comes out of the ground.  I hear that these can create fumaroles (areas of air that are oxygen deprived and could cause you to suddenly not have any oxygen either) but I experienced no such effects while exploring these pools.

I did accidentally step close to a vent in the ground and got a nice hot breeze on my legs.  That was startling, but far from fatal.


As we got closer to the river, things greened up again, and you could've told me I was in an alpine meadow.  A pretty trail indeed.


Finally the Yellowstone River itself was before us.  It is a very quick-moving river, and quite cold as well.  Good for refreshing if you are feeling too hot from being down in the canyon.

Yellowstone River
Lunch was had in the shade of a nearby tree.  We saw a few other hikers while resting at the river, but much better than any of the popular trails.  I thank the backcountry office guy for his recommendation.

On our way up, I spotted a different style of waterfall across the river.


The remainder of the hike was interesting because we kept hearing thunder as we passed the gurgling hot water pools again.  I saw a piece of lightning strike the canyon a few miles behind us, as well as dark clouds.  I figured it was only a matter of time before we got drenched.  However, to our delight that never happened.  Rain did start to trickle out of the sky, but nothing serious.

Total hiking distance was 10 miles, and elapsed time was 4.6 hours, including the lunch break.  The descent into the canyon was about 1000 feet, but it was focused in the last mile or so of the trail, so not what you'd call gradual.

Returning to civilization, we drove by a neat rock formation that looked like basalt columns at the base, but who knows what on top.


Cool rocks!
But I'd like to draw your attention to this lovely tourist who wasn't sure what to do when he realized he was now in my panorama.  Just look at that face.

A+ for thinking about not wanting to ruin the photo.
Mr. Man in the Red Shirt, you far from ruined my panorama.  In fact I think you made it worth sharing.

PART II: Beartooth Pass

I had been told about Beartooth Pass, and I had no idea where it was, or what state it was in for that matter.  It was labeled on my atlas however, and it was just east of Yellowstone on US-212.  The choice was clear, Beartooth or bust.  At an elevation of 10,947 feet, it is one of the highest roads in the US.  The excitement was building for me as we neared this area.

We came across a large field filled with hundreds of bison and numerous bison calves.  Needless to say, this caused a serious traffic jam.  The calves looked like cow calves, not oddly proportioned bison like they were to become.

The mountains were gnarly as we exited the park to the east on US-212. Things were beginning to get foggy, as we were gaining elevation for a few mountain passes coming up.



After a few switchbacks, we got a glimpse of the outlying mountains in the area, and they were very pointy!  I also noticed a sedimentary layer that stretched as far as I could see in both directions partway up the mountains, reminding me of the Coconino sandstone of the Grand Canyon.


Here is a closeup of the extra pointy mountain we saw:


And here's Emma in front of all the cool mountains.

Emma and mountains
Soon, we came across a road that said it went to a fire tower up on a mountain.  Can't leave that opportunity go can you?  Well we headed up, despite it saying the upper gate was closed.  We saw tire tracks, and eventually caught up with the guy in some silver econobox of sorts.  We came to some snowy bits, and I soon realized this was why the upper gate was closed.  He had pulled over to the side as he was unsure of crossing through the snow piles, which were about 8-12 inches deep, but very soft snow.  Being the fearless driver that I am, I plowed through a couple of them and he followed seeing my success getting through. However, sadly, the upcoming snow was several feet deep, and I didn't feel like chancing it with all-seasons on Wombat.  It was a fun run up the hill though.

I made a 30 point turn to get out of there since the road was narrow and I had the turning radius of an aircraft carrier.  (#wagonlife)


Back on the pavement, the road was cut so tightly into the hillside, exhibiting lots of cool-looking rocks around every corner.  Here's one cool spot we saw.


Glacial lakes and ponds started to appear and become a frequent sight. This one still had ICE in it!  Icebergs in Wyoming in June.


Many switchbacks later (thanks WyDOT for making the grade not too steep out here, my car wouldn't have made it up the hills at this elevation), we approached the wildest snow I've ever seen by a road, perhaps anywhere.  This appears to be about 12 feet of snow, since I am 6 feet on the dot.  Just imagine the process of removing this much snow.  I saw an industrial snowblower a few corners back that I assume was part of the process.  Impressive to say the least.  Now I know why they have really tall sticks lining the roads around here.  It's so you can find it when nature drops like 10 feet of snow in mid winter.



The three of us (me, Emma, and Wombat) successfully made it to Beartooth Pass, standing at 10,947 feet above sea level - that's over 2 miles vertically!  For the record, it was snowing.  Not really accumulating, but nonetheless snowing.  And cold, did I mention cold?

Beartooth success!
Coming down slowly on the other side, I was reminded of the tablelands on Mt. Katahdin.  This is just an enlarged version.  The top is oddly flat, and then there are deep valleys in between which are in the neighborhood of 3000' down.  Talk about a grand experience.  As far as places your car can go, this may be near the top of the list (ranking and elevation - har har bad joke, I know).

Taking it all in
Standing out on the ledge, I noticed that even at this altitude, small colorful things manage to grow.  It's hardly an alpine flower meadow, but if you get close enough, it's just as beautiful.


This mountain pass brought us back into Montana, where 6 miles of switchbacks brought us down into the town of Red Lodge.  Not a whole lot was going on there, but we found wifi and came across a place to camp that we had just passed a few miles back on the outskirts of town.

The day was rich with views and hikes and crazy terrain, which make up for the low number of miles we covered.  We drove 239 miles, though as the crow flies it was only 70 miles.  Mountains are hard to get around. The total is now up to 11,123.

Day 53: 239 miles.
Most importantly, there were cookies with dinner at our campsite.  This was a paying campsite, but like broke individuals, we tried to get away with not paying since it was self serve.  We had many picnic tables, and plenty of space to set up camp, not to mention a functioning water pump thing for filling the water jug for no charge.