Day 3
8.96 miles. 2700ft gain/3090ft loss. Today, our destination is Fire Creek camp, and, after bidding our farewells to Yellowstone camp, we head uphill, across the high banked plains at the base of Yellowstone Cliffs, awash in all the varieties of wildflower here. Some I recognize, like the Bear grass, Tiger Lilies, Indian paintbrush, Lupine, and others, that help round out the colors of the rainbow.
There is still snow along the trail in patches, and one of these patches just happens to sit across a stream that I felt the need to set up tripod and camera to record a beautiful little waterfall…I see footprints across the snow bridge, and after testing it myself, I set to positioning tripod and camera, when , “Crack! Sploosh”!
I’m sure that I looked like a dancing bear in a room full of rattlesnakes. Once the laughter subsided from the creek banks, I was able to get a hand out…
The bridge unceremoniously gave way, dumping me into calf deep water. With camera…And tripod…I managed to hang on to the camera, but at the same time, I was trying desperately to get out of the water, not wanting to soak my feet! I’m sure that I looked like a dancing bear in a room full of rattlesnakes. Once the laughter subsided from the creek banks, I was able to get a hand out of my predicament. The rather large hole that now existed, served as a warning for those that would follow…I now walked in soggy boots the rest of the way to camp, clomp, squish, clomp, squish…Beautiful…
As we reached Windy Gap, I was able to forget my waterlogged wheels, and concentrate on the views that now surrounded us in 360. I set up on a spot that was not over babbling brook, (yep, still snow here, too), and took in the vast views of Yellowstone Cliffs distant, Crescent mountain, and the snow melt tarn at its base, along with its adjoining brother, Sluiskin Mountains, adorned in spires.
Once over Windy Gap, we came to the trail junction, on our left that led to the Natural Bridge, the only arch that I’m aware of that exists in the park. At only .8 miles, it too, is a worthy side trip to make. Here, the bridge is on the edge of the hill, and it overlooks Lakes James and Ethel below, and in the distance you can also see the White River trailing away.
The photo opportunity met, we join up again with the main trail and begin our descent to Lake James. Along the way, we are warned that the mosquitoes and everything else that bites, have descended in full force along the banks of the lake…As we get nearer and nearer to the lake, the reality sets in. The swarms become larger and larger, until we each have our own entourage of little bloodsuckers.
…And, I happen upon a funny sight, Greg and Ed are doing the Mosquito two step…Or is it twenty step? I’m confused…
I’m determined, though, to snap a quick picture of Lake James before scurrying on, and Greg and Ed decide to tough it out here at the trail junction…”I’ll only take a couple of minutes”, I assure them, and make my way towards the lakeshore…Right into enemy territory…It’s all I can do to take a quick picture while being feasted upon, before beating a hasty retreat, flailing wildly at my tormentors…And, I happen upon a funny sight, Greg and Ed are doing the Mosquito two step…Or is it twenty step? I’m confused…
…slap, ouch! Slap! And on it goes, as if they’re keeping time to some new disco craze, called, “If they don’t leave me alone soon, I’ll go insane!”
From a distance, you can’t see the little critters hounding them, all you can see is a constant swatting and slapping and dancing going on, like Ricky Bobbie’s fire dance…Only they’re not on fire…Swoosh, swoosh, slap, slap, ouch! Slap! And on it goes, as if they’re keeping time to some new disco craze, called, “If they don’t leave me alone soon, I’ll go insane!” It’s a good time to leave this area, and with our ever increasing personal swarms as company, we head downhill through old growth forest as fast as we could, in an attempt to rid ourselves of the pests.
…“Mosquito Flats” another breeding ground for the winged parasites, which only increased the numbers following us, like buzzards circling fresh road kill…
As our footfalls increased, it reminded me as if we were participants in the Forest Olympics, bounding down trail over rocks, trees, and obstacles with all the grace of charging elephants fleeing a raging fire. In our headlong plunge, we passed through aptly named, “Mosquito Flats” another breeding ground for the winged parasites, which only increased the numbers following us, like buzzards circling fresh road kill…
Finally, with some relief, we notice as we put Lake James and Mosquito haven behind us, their numbers dwindle to the point that it is bearable once again, and we reach the banks of the newly re-routed White River.
During our flight downhill, we kept hearing a constant, “Boom!” “Boom!” that sounded as if there were rock falling, or blasting somewhere…That was almost a mile away then, and you can imagine our amazement to find what the source of the sound was. More rock being forced downriver by the turbulent White. Here also was Van Horn Falls, a pretty waterfall that might be about 30 feet tall or so. We stop to rest for a moment, and notice that the bridge is gone, wiped out by the river changing course. Thankfully, there are downed trees to cross, for listening to the bounding boulders crashing in the river, there’s no way I would want to ford it…You’d get pulverized by the liquid landslide!
…I felt now as if I was participating in a new event, an obstacle course with 50 lb packs on. Kept expecting someone with Sergeant stripes on to start screaming at me, “Faster, faster, is that the best you can do??!!!”
Safely across, we make our way over the dry riverbed where the river once ran, and head uphill, once again, through old growth. Here, the ravages of the winter storm are also apparent, as there is some serious blow down across the trail…Over, over, under, under…I felt now as if I was participating in a new event, an obstacle course with 50 lb packs on. Kept expecting someone with Sergeant stripes on to start screaming at me, “Faster, faster, is that the best you can do??!!!” Once through the maze of fallen trees, we continue uphill, although not at the same rate of climb as the day before, on the Trail of Trials…
Drenched with sweat, we finally reach the turnoff to Fire Creek camp, and are dismayed to realize that it is still another .4 miles downhill to camp…Some deep sighs, and muttering under the seemingly now failed breath ,we take the turn downhill to camp, to find that we are the only ones here, and this camp has not escaped the blow down that seems prevalent on this side of the White River.
Thankfully, the criss-crossed trees miss the best campsite, and we plop down, wet and weary in our new camp. The creek is close, and there are good facilities here, amongst the sparse fir. Once camp is set up, and we set back to relax and eat, a deer wanders in close, and sticks with us for about a half hour, before being startled by someone coming into camp at 9:30pm, right at dusk! And, it was someone alone… A woman!
I think we were almost as startled as the deer was, to see someone come into camp this late at night…We talked for a few minutes before she went to set up her camp, and found out that she had arrived at Sunrise at 5:00pm, looking for a spot and this camp was the only one that wasn’t full. Of all the sites along the Northern Loop, this one is probably the least used, although I think I would have to rank it above the sites at Lake James, if for no other reason than not being on the menu here…Amazing!
I know that after she had left us, we looked at each other a little incredulously, not believing what we were seeing…Gotta give her credit, I don’t know if I would have done such a thing…Turned in, and had a fitful nights sleep…