Here's to Second Tries

A second attempt on Fairyland is forming! Jeff is flying up on the 31st and on the 3rd we're going to 4B1. Steven is going again, he says he must fly his mountaineering club's flag in Fairyland, because here in America he is the club. I'm a little jealous of the flag to be honest. Jessie, also a C Area room attendant and Max from the gift shop are coming too.

Canyon Village Talent Show

Yesterday was a sad day in the Village. Pilar and Andrew loaded up a rental car with luggage, two bikes, a mandolin, the guitar (with case I painted), two adopted Colombians and a friend and headed back to California. I will miss them.
They should have stuck around a little longer for the Canyon Talent Show.
I've seen talent shows before, but this one takes the cake...
The first act was one of the retirees dressed as a flapper singing "Hey Big Spender" to her balding husband who seemed embarrassed. It was cute, but the singing was pretty bad.
There were a couple guitar groups, including one that blew everyone away; Abram doing vocal and guitar with someone on a violin. They performed Glycerine by Bush. They got the encore they were expecting and launched right into Hotel California. Wow!
Then were the Chinese vocalist and violinist performing Can You Feel the Love Tonight from the Lion King. That was cute, with the guy's accent the chorus came out, "It's enough to make kings and wagabonds Believe the very best."
The Most Bizarre act went to Kyle. He started out by dragging out a large canvas, guitar, paints, brushes, his Picnic Shop uniform, a decorative throw blanket, laptop and two volunteers. He asked for the lights to be dimmed and the volunteers ran out flinging glow stick juice on everyone. A couple people were hit in the face with glow stick tubes. Marlyn Manson's The Beautiful People played faintly on the laptop. Then Kyle proceeded to squeeze paint onto the back of the guitar and use it as a palette. He used his hands instead of the brushes and painted some kind of message on the canvas that no one could quite make out. He did this with the decorative throw blanket flung over his shoulder (for effect??). In the middle of it all he paused to change music and put on his uniform. When he finally quit, he was met with stunned silence. No one knew what to think of it. Kyle is odd to say the least. And to think, Andrew had to be his roommate for two months!!
The last act of the night was a "Rap'n Tap" performed by a pair billed as 'Short and Curly.' The rapper was a tall, white guy with, yes, curly hair. The tapper was a tiny girl in huge sunglasses and an oversize hoodie, hood up. They swaggered out and she hopped up on the platform. The rap was dedicated to 'the older women.' It was about a guy's visit to a ladies' rest home, refered to as the "Octogenarian Harem." It was hysterical and the tapping was great too. It won hands down and the little tapper yelled out, "That's a two time world champion tapper, IN YO' FACE, YA'LL!"

Call of the Wild

I can't seem to get Fairyland out of my mind. I dream about it every night. Jeff, if you fly up to Bozeman to drive back with me, pack your backpack and come a week early to adjust to the altitude. If not this summer, then next summer. Africa can wait... I must reach Fairyland.

If you're wondering where I get my adventurous nature read the following email I just received from my father (apparently he was so distraught at my not making it to Fairyland that he has put together an alternate route that calls for fording a major river -the Yellowstone River- and bushwacking a total of 20 miles) If I didn't know how much he loves me, I would think he was trying to kill me! Our original Fairyland route (the one we didn't follow) called for 26 miles round trip, only 10 of which were off-trail. Keep in mind every off-trail mile around here is equal to 3 or 4 trail miles:

Hi Honey,
Attached please find an image of the Tower Falls to Fairyland area. I don't know how you can print it but there it is, fresh from GoogleEarth. I suggest a new route to Fairyland via the Deep Creek/Burnt Creek drainages area (see waypoints on image). To achieve this you will need to ford the Yellowstone River, most likely in an area where the river broadens and shallows. I suggest an area about a mile or so upstream of Tower Creek area, probably near that big Island where the geese hung out and I used to fish. Maybe you remember it. I notice that there is an easy walk to this area of less than a mile if you park near the closest point overlooking the river about a mile or two south of the Tower Falls store parking lot; It is a huge open terrace looking area that ramps down to the river broad. The objective is to reach the mouth of Deep Creek and proceed upstream to the mouth of Burnt Creek, again proceeding up the stream bed (dry?) to a saddle overlooking Fairyland. It looks much shorter and easier and fording the river will probably seem pleasant given the temperatures I keep hearing about from the Yellowstone area. Take some rope and you can ferry your gear (in a garbage bag) and yourself across without swimming if you throw the middle of it across the river with a snag to hook in a sweeper deadfall tree on the far bank. Maybe you can find a place to wade across if the water is real low. Check it out yourself on GoogleEarth.
I looked at the Yellowstone Volcanics monograph and it was interesting. The river does cut some younger volcanics so you can at least date the age of the Canyon cutting by that and then find the oldest alluvium in it to place it in a time span.

Fairyland Expedition Day 3

Homeward Bound
Our final day we awoke at 4B1 to gathering clouds and the occasional low-flying plane or helicopter. The latter was somewhat startling in such a remote place and I worried that maybe there was a forest fire somewhere nearby.
We puttered around camp eating and packing, letting Stephen sleep in for awhile. Finally the clouds began to look threatening, so we kicked Stephen out of Andrew's yellow tent and started packing in earnest.

Just before we left, we took some photos at the 4B1 site. If I look a little distracted in this photo, it's because a coyote was watching us quietly from about 15 feet away. It just strolled up and stood for a few moments. We wondered if it was rabid. Its unusual for coyotes to be so bold during the day in such an undisturbed place.
Stephen with the flag of his mountaineering club back in Taiwan.

Me at 4B1. The orange thing is my GPS unit. My camera is in the black case. My backpack weighs a ton and my hair braids are going on their third day with no re-braiding.


One last glimpse of Joseph's Coat before we head to the left (southwest). As we made our way out of the Joseph's Coat/Whistler Geyser area, I led us up a gentle ridge that linked up with our GPS trail from our hike in from 4M2 everyone followed me except for Andrew who broke off from the group. Pilar and I called for him and he answered back for some time before he wandered out of shouting distance. He hadn't told us what he was doing or when to expect him to rejoin us. I wasn't too worried about us. I had my trusty orange GPS unit and I was following our trail from the other day in reverse. From time to time an especially thick cloud layer blocked reception, but generally we stayed right on course. We walked right into 4M2 without much trouble but we were unnerved to see that Andrew wasn't there waiting for us as we'd guessed he would be. We sat for a moment and decided to yell for him. Our calls were answered, but by several voices coming from Wapiti Lake Trail. It was Rachel, Zack and Tim on the outward leg of their own Fairyland Expedition. Zack found us and went back for the others. While he was gone, Andrew limped into 4M2. We weren't sure whether to hug him or beat him senseless. He'd sprained his ankle while he was separated from us. He said he sat around for about 15 minutes in pain before pulling the laces of his shoe tighter and continuing on. Zack returned with Rachel and Tim and sat listening to our tales from Broad Creek for awhile. We told them how to find 4B1 and, "Don't go chasin' waterfalls." Then we watched as they disappeared over the hill toward Joseph's Coat. We sat around eating trail mix and Power Bars for awhile before we hit the trail. At this point we were very appreciative of the trail, admiring the trail crew's handiwork; the neatly cut deadfall that we didn't have to climb over and the way the trail avoided hills and bogs. We passed three large piles of grizzly scat and listened as distant thunder grew closer and felt sprinkles now and then as we hiked through the woods.
As we broke free of the forest and walked out across Hayden Valley, the storm closed in on us with cold rain and lightning strikes. I was terrified of being out in the open with the lightning, but at the same time we really wanted to get home. Pilar and I talked about how nice it would be if the Employee Dining Room had French onion soup and clam chowder. We were walking pretty fast-way ahead of the guys. It started to hail tiny ice chips.

As we neared a stand of pine we heard a strange growling coming from it. We walked on cautiously and found a bull bison standing in a clearing. The thunder was upsetting him and he was growling and stomping. He was right next to the trail. We slowly detoured around him, once again climbing over deadfall. The guys caught up to us and we yelled for them to detour also. As we rejoined the trail at the edge of a thermal area we nearly walked into a second bull hidden by trees. This one was just as agitated. His back was to us and I talked to him to let him know we were there as we once again detoured around. Andrew popped out of the trees just where we had and the bull turned and took two quick steps at him. He managed to get back into the trees just as Stephen came out by the bull. By this time he was beyond agitated. He lowered his horns and charged at Stephen. Stephen ran with the bison on his heels and I screamed my loudest, "NOOOO!" Amazingly enough, he stopped. We quickly regrouped and hurried away down the trail, leaving the bison stomping and snorting. The last mile or two was cold and rainy, but uneventful. When the trail head with the truck finally came into sight Pilar and I cheered. We stuffed the backpacks into the bed and climbed into the cab to wait for the guys. By this time they were about a half a mile behind us. By the time we drove back to Canyon Village and parked in the employee parking lot, it was dinner time. Our friends and coworkers were making their way out of the dorms headed for the EDR. Everyone wanted to hear our story and find out if we'd made it to Fairyland. We told them about Joseph's Coat, 4B1, the Yellow Brick Road. We told them about the waterfalls and about the bison. Our Fairyland was in the adventure we'd had trying to reach it.

Expedition to Fairyland Day 2

"Don't go chasin' waterfalls..."
Dawn breaks over the mountains into Joseph's Coat. Everyone is tired and slow-moving, especially Stephen. He didn't bring a sleeping bag, only one of the velour blankets from the cabins. I was so cold that I woke up twice; once to put my wool socks on and again to cinch my zero degree bag up around my head with only my nose sticking out. As cold as I was, I know Stephen must have been freezing. Still, he has been camping up here before, so I don't understand why he was so ill-prepared. We let him sleep another two hours and then bring him hot chocolate.
We can only reach Fairyland Basin in a day hike because we are not allowed to camp in un designated camp sites. 4B1 is the closest site. Our original plan was to follow Broad Creek to Coffee Pot Creek and follow it up to Coffee Pot Hot Springs, over the ridge toward Shallow Creek, descending into the canyon just downstream from Golden Fleece Falls and following Shallow Creek the rest of the way into Fairyland.
Here's a description of the area, quoted from Yellowstone Waterfalls (paraphrased), "Broad Creek may be the most interesting back country stream in Yellowstone. It arrives at Joseph's Coat Springs, on of the park's more colorful hot spring basins, enters a densely forested canyon. Soon the canyon becomes more imposing. Sheer walls begin to rise and forested banks give way to chutes and rapids, forcing the hiker to wade in the stream. The creek then begins to plummet over a series of waterfalls and cascades and soon there is no place for the hiker to walk. The creek merges with Shallow Creek at the Fairyland Basin, the site of one of the most astonishing and mysterious thermal formations in the world. Here the canyon walls are over 1,000 feet high. The only documentation of the three major waterfalls of Broad Creek's canyon appears in an obscure USFWS document. It reads: 'the falls on the stream were identified by helicopter.' We want to stress emphatically that Broad Creek Canyon is one of the most dangerous and confusing areas in the entire Yellowstone back country. Many expeditions have gotten lost or stopped by the country's geography and failed to achieve their goals. Sheer cliffs, swift water and vast tracts of impenetrable deadfall make travel through this canyon extremely difficult."
As you read what follows, keep in mind that I didn't read the above description until after we returned from our expedition.

It was late morning by the time we left 4B1. We followed Broad around the Joseph's Coat Promontory and did our best to keep track of the drainages on our right so we wouldn't pass by Coffee Pot Creek by mistake. On the topo map it looked simple enough, it would be the third creek we passed. In reality, there were many more drainages and we soon lost track of where we were. The topo map looked tame, reality was not.
We spent more and more time crossing the creek on logs or trying to avoid falling in the creek as the canyon narrowed. Soon we swapped our hiking boots for sandals and walked right down the middle of the creek.
At this point the creek bed was a flat, smooth slab of yellow stone. It wasn't even slippery, so we were pretty content to walk in it.
We dubbed it the 'Yellow Brick Road.'
We were cheerfully splashing our way down the Yellow Brick Road when we suddenly met its end.
We found ourselves staring down a huge waterfall. High cliffs framed the top like a gateway.
After gawking at it for awhile, Andrew started down the right side and I headed for the left side. (I thought the right side looked like more of a drop off) Andrew made it down without much trouble and helped the others.
I ended up stranded on a concave wall, unsure if I should trust the dry, crumbling rock or the slippery, mossy, seeping rock. After a long, shaky climb I joined the others at the bottom of the falls. Andrew had gotten pretty wet so he decided to go for a swim in the circular plunge pool at the center of the falls. He said he didn't touch bottom.
Later in Yellowstone Waterfalls I read that the falls are unnamed but unofficially called Guardian Falls for the way they guard Fairyland. They were unknown until some park employees (like us!) reported them in 1997. We were really excited about the falls and speculated that we were probably the only people to have ever seen them. Little did we know we had just descended into Hell. Our lovely Yellow Brick Road was replaced by a treacherous, boulder filled creek. Every rock was coated with slippery algae and we started to fall often. I slipped, dunking my camera and GPS and smashing my knee on a rock. The camera and GPS turned out to be alright, but I had to sit for awhile before the pain let up enough for me to go on. By this point our GPS units were useless anyway because of the steep canyon walls, blocking satellite reception. At some point, I can't remember if it was before or after Guardian Falls, Stephen asked that we set a turn around time, no matter if we reached Fairyland or not. After some talk we agreed on 4 pm.
We slogged on for what seemed like an eternity and then the unthinkable; another waterfall. This one was in such a position that all we could do was go up. Climbing down it would have been insane. We struggled up through a rocky passage to the right of the fall. From the heights we could hear the discouraging roar of rapids, cascades and perhaps more waterfalls, echoing from the canyon ahead. It was nearing 4 pm. After a short, sad discussion, we decided it was time to turn around. No one wanted to go back up the creek though. We were already a quarter of the way up the canyon wall so we decided to climb the 1,000 feet out of the canyon to the top of the ridge.
I took one last look at the place where the canyon turned and reminded myself I could always try again. Stephen told me several times, "Sometimes it is more important to come back alive than to reach your destination." He was of course, very right.
The climb out through burnt lodgepole pines and cheerful pink fireweed, was slow, but in many ways not as bad as what awaited us on the ridge. Several times we knocked rocks loose. Andrew knocked the first one loose and Stephen turned pale as he watched it bounce past him into space. "You say, 'ROCK FALL!'" he requested with wide eyes. The ridge was a hot, desolate, burned out forest. When we left the creek to attempt to climb around the second fall we didn't realize that we were leaving it for good. On the ridge there were no creeks to pump water from and we ran out quickly in the heat. You could tell the force and direction of the fire as it roared through from the way in which all of the saplings were bowed in the same direction. It looked as if an apocalyptic wind had blown through the forest. The first little bit wasn't that bad. We could mostly walk between the matchstick trees, stepping over the occasional deadfall. After awhile we came to some thermal vents that were on the map. We joked that it was the easiest 500 feet we'd walked since Joseph's Coat. A herd of mule deer eyed us before bounding away into the Shallow Creek drainage. I wished that I could travel so effortlessly through the landscape as the deer. After the thermal area travel became more difficult. The burn was interspersed with dense, old-growth live forest. The thin lodgepole pines were replaced with massive fir trees. Stepping over deadfall was no longer an option for me. Now I had to climb over the fallen trees. My father calls this kind of landscape, "Matchstick Hell." I describe it as a giant's game of 'Pick-up Sticks.' We did our best to use the sturdier fallen trees as a network of crazy, zig-zagging sidewalks through the forest. It was scary though, as one slip might leave one of us skewered on a broken branch.
Finally we came to Coffee Pot Hot Springs. It was a more hellish than scenic spring though. Maybe it was just our mood, thirsty and nervous as the sun sank lower in the sky. We considered pumping hot spring water to drink but no one really thought it was a good idea, so after snapping a few photos we continued on. It may have been that we were tired and stumbling, but after Coffee Pot the terrain seemed to get even worse. We weren't just stepping and climbing over deadfall, but at the same time, climbing in and out of the deep drainage valleys the cut across the ridge. Pilar was stung by a wasp and, as Stephen came to her aid he was also stung. At that point we did our best to run over the deadfall without impaling ourselves. After awhile we did come to a tiny trickle of a stream where we pumped water and drank. Unfortunately the water came with mosquitoes and I sprayed repellent in my eye in my haste to be rid of them. Ouch! We hiked on.
Finally, as the sun met the ridges, I caught a glimpse of the slopes of Joseph's Coat.
Some time later, exhausted, but somehow satisfied, we collapsed around the 4B1 fire ring. Later, I read that the falls where we finally turned around are called Halfway Falls because they are believed to be only half way from Joseph's Coat to Fairyland Basin. I congratulated Stephen on probably being the first Asian or foreigner to see the falls. Pilar and I are probably the first women to see them. We slept soundly that night, the mystery of Fairyland guarded by waterfalls.

Fairyland Expedition Day 1

Our odyssey began mid morning from the Wapiti Lake trail head just south of Canyon Village. We started out across the north end of Hayden Valley, which is a huge expanse of rolling hills covered in sage, grass and wildflowers. It is referred to as the American Serengeti for its awe-inspiring herds of bison and elk. After a few miles we left Hayden and continued on into the forested hills to the northeast.

In the forest we found grizzly tracks on the trail and met a charming pine marten. We hiked a total of 5 miles to 4M2, the back country campsite that was to be our jumping off point into pathless wilderness. After lunch at 4M2 we punched in the coordinates for Whistler Geyser into our GPS units, pulled out the compasses, crossed our fingers and set out to the northeast. About two miles later we found ourselves at Whistler. We explored and speculated about which thermal feature was actually Whistler. The guys and I hiked up a dry creek bed into an area that reminded me of Roaring Mountain.
It was flanked by enormous boulders with passages between them and to the west another thermal feature that looked like it had exploded. We regrouped with Pilar and followed the stream out of Whistler into Joseph's Coat Hot Springs. Joseph's Coat is a very large network of thermal valleys on Broad Creek named for its colorful, striped slopes. It is a living geothermal Coat of Many Colors.
At Broad Creek we split up to search for 4B1 our campsite. 4B1 is reputed to be one of the hardest to find back country sites in America. Pilar and Andrew searched to the southwest and Stephen followed me over some ridges to the south.
From the top of the first ridge I saw a beautiful blue green lake. I thought it would be hot but when I got closer I found that it was cold and stagnant. I continued up the second ridge and decided it was a bad place for a campsite. As I turned around and headed back past the lake I noticed four stumps that had been cut level with a chainsaw right next to Broad Creek. I'd been told that the site was 3-400 feet from the creek, but I decided to check it out anyway.
The stumps turned out to be seats around the fire ring. A little ways off was a neatly painted sign "4B1." I yelled for Stephen and together we went back for Pilar and Andrew and the backpacks.
After we set up camp everyone was tired and napped on the meadow and on logs. I must have been running on the joy of discovering 4B1 though. I was still full of energy so I set out to explore Joseph's coat.
I went back up the white slope where we'd popped out at Broad Creek and took some pictures of the big fumarole there.
Then I went back past the blue green lake and found another big fumarole that had coated the trees around it with white powder. They looked like ghostly flocked Christmas trees except for the bright green new growth.
Down by the creek I found some sulphur springs and a set of coyote tracks.
For dinner we had freeze-dried meals from the employee dining room. You just add boiling water, reseal the zip lock it comes in, let it sit 10 minutes or so, add the sauce powder, shake and squish to mix it and voila! A surprisingly good meal!
That night I had nightmares that one of our party would stumble in the dark into the thermal area 20 feet from the tents, break through the crust and be boiled alive. I had pointed out the thermal area to everyone so they would know, but I was still worried. The next night Stephen was surprised to see steam rising from one of the springs and we all laughed nervously when we realized he hadn't understood anyway!
Me as a Dr. Seuss elk-antlered creature.

Finding Fairyland

The day after tomorrow the 2007 Wildflowers Expedition to Fairyland will begin. What is Fairyland? It is a hot spring basin so remote that less people have been there than have stood on the summit of Mt. Everest. It is not shown on any map. I read about it on this site: http://home1.gte.net/res00j35/yellowstone/fairyland/day04.htm back in February or so and decided I had to go.
Our party name, 'Wildflowers' is from the Tom Petty song that has become our anthem of summer in Yellowstone. There are just four in our party, Andrew, Pilar, Stephen from Taiwan and me. We are all very excited. I am nervous. It is my first true backpacking trip. It will be at least 25 miles roundtrip. At least 10 of those miles will be off-trail 'bushwacking.' Our campsite 4B1 is one of the few off-trail backcountry sites in the Park. If you want to see where we're going, follow the trails from Artist's Point on the South Rim of the Canyon to 4M2, here jump trail to 4B1 and follow Broad Creek north to its confluence with Shallow Creek.
We will be gone the 10th - 13th of July.
With any luck the next posting will be complete with photos from FAIRYLAND!!!

A Day in the Life of a Canyon Room Attendant

This is a funny clip of our fearless leader addressing the troops before yet another thrilling day of cabin cleaning. Watch for the signature clipboard slap. Notice how enthusiastic everyone is. The carts are called "Molly Carts," the people in navy shirts are Team Leaders (TLs) and the maroon shirted folks like me are the Room Attendants (RAs).

So what do we do around here? CLEAN CABINS! and for an unlucky few, clean lodges. We wake up and eat in the EDR (Employee Dining Room) or, with the way they cook, "Eat Dead Rats." We have to be at the Linen Room by 8 am. If you're good, the TLs will fight over you. You swipe your card and report to Wren for your List. The List will make or break your day. A good list has more "Occupied" rooms than "Due Outs." We usually get about 12-15 rooms each. So you take your List and do some rough calculations that never pan out load up your Molly Cart with the amount of towels, washcloths, bathmats, pillowcases, sheets, TP, tissues, soaps, bear soaps, shampoos, ice bags, sanibags, literature, postcards, pens, cleaners, sponges and last but not least a toilet brush with a three inch handle. Needless to say, the toilets don't get cleaned all that often. Once you've chosen a functional Molly Cart (some have been wrecked in illegal Molly Cart races) and loaded all this stuff up, you head out to your assigned cabins. On the way you may pass a large grunting buffalo. If you're lucky the large buffalo is not laying in front of the cabin you have to clean. Once at the cabin door you recite the RA mantra, knock, knock, knock, "Hello, Housekeeping" three times. Sometimes, just to break up the routine you might use a foreign accent or an Exorcist Voice. If no one gripes at you for waking them up, you head on in and swing into action. Here's my routine: strip the beds, make the beds up with fresh sheets, strip the used towels, use a bath towel to wipe out the shower and bathroom floor, replace towels, clean mirror, sink, table, desk windowsills, empty the trash, look at the toilet. We have four cleaning solutions all of which go by colors: pink-foaming cleanser, yellow-disinfectant, green-air freshener, and blue-glass cleaner. Everyone competes to see who can clean successfully with just yellow. We are also supposed to "hand vaccume," walk around and pick up little bits of stuff. If you just let the chipmunks come in they will clean the floor for you though. As far as tips go, the lodges get the best tips, but they're the biggest pain in the butt. I was in Dunraven Lodge today and made $18 in tips off of my first four rooms. We're supposed to turn them in for tip pool but no one does. We have lunch at 11 am and clock back in at 11:45. You have to hurry or the lunch line goes out the door of the EDR. After lunch it's back to the cabins. On a good day I finish my rooms by 2 pm. When you finish you turn in your key and List and unload the cart. If you're lucky your team is finished too otherwise you have to help them. There are about 3 people on a team. The TLs drop in to see how you're doing throughout the day and report to the front desk which rooms are finished. A good TL will help you if you have a bad list or go get things you have forgotten or run out of from the linen room. A bad TL hides out until lunch taking naps or playing battleship. A really bad TL goes into rooms ahead of you and takes your tips!
That's about it in a nutshell. Next time you stay somewhere remember that the person who put the little cups out probably just cleaned the toilet. Those little paper caps really don't mean much.

Under the Rose Moon

This month's full moon, called the Rose Moon, is the lowest in the sky all year and by trick of the human eye appears to be the largest. To celebrate the occasion we loaded up two cars and my truck with people and hiked out to Cascade Lake last night. We started out in a dark forest but by the time we reached the first meadow the moon had risen and the land around us was bathed in a silvery blue. I led the way and it was nice to look back and see the lights of our party of 16 like a trail of fireflies strung out through the forest and meadow. As we approached the lake, we were greeted by two pairs of glittering eyes in a clump of willow. We shut off our lights, and as we watched, two enormous moose lurched to their feet. After a minute or two, we detoured around them and sat on the lake shore, watching the moonlight shimmer on the water. Bats swooped over the lake, hunting and after about 20 minutes we were frozen. Stephen from Taiwan suggested we build a fire so he, Andrew and I walked off to the nearest campsite and, finding it vacant, built a fire in the fire ring. I will upload our fireside international roll call on YouTube so I can embed it here for you. I took some pictures but they will be along a little later since I have to resize them. On the return trip, we heard loons in the marsh and wolves howling in the distance.

By eerie coincidence, our hike coincided with the anniversary of the 1973 death of a 29 year old French woman. She jumped into the Yellowstone river above Upper Falls and plunged down both Upper Falls (109 ft.) and Lower Falls (308 ft.). This happened at Canyon where I am living.