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Thermophiles, Yellowstone National Park
Sigma DP2s, ISO 50, f/14, 1.3 sec.
What you see in the photo is not the result of a science fair experiment.
It's one of the reasons our family loves Yellowstone, and it's part of why we are spending the holiday weekend here instead of going to a KOA.
This particular formation is spooky because it changes every time we see it - it has personality.
Tower Creek, Yellowstone National Park
Sigma DP1, ISO 100, f/11, 1/8 sec.
Thomas Moran's less famous painting of Tower Creek shows a wispy blue stripe meandering its way through yellow stone cliffs, which is sort of how it looks in the creek's higher reaches.
But if you trek down the creek, which is neither a meander nor particularly safe, Tower Creek becomes a rumbling bumbling bouldered brook that can sweep you during the high water season right over the brink of the 132-foot Tower Fall.
I like the color of the creek water in Yellowstone soon after snowmelt peaks and just before the water clears completely, because creekside vegetation is rich in color, and the creek water still has enough silt to reflect magnificent hues of green in it, like the photo above, which was taken early in the morning before direct sunlight ruins the view. I used a tripod of course, and a low perspective, which required me to stand right in the middle of the crashing rapids, hanging on for dear life, because Tower Fall was below me.
Cold temperatures and cold water meant that I could get into the car and turn the heater on and warm up, and lightweight hiking pants dried fast so I wasn't too uncomfortable for a day of packrafting and hiking. By the end of the day, I was a long ways away from the ice cream shoppe at Tower Junction, dozing under a tarp in SE Yellowstone, 15 miles from the boat dock and 9 days away from my final destination near Jackson Hole.
I love Yellowstone because there are plenty of photographic views never seen by a million tourists every year because they don't have waders. I love Yellowstone because there are remote camps visited by an infinitesimally small proportion of those millions.
I love Yellowstone because I've learned to escape the masses with a little bit, or a lot of bits, of effort, as needed.
I love Yellowstone because it's really big, and still really wild.
Bench Pitch
A Buttercup Yellow Silnylon Pyramid in the Shadow of the Walling Reef,
Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex (Sigma DP2s)
The pyramid geometry is the most versatile shelter design for the wilderness trekker.
A center pole means there is nothing to break unless you don't pay attention under the heaviest snow loads, and with cheap and thin carbon poles.
A center pole means it has lots of headroom, and a really easy and fast pitch.
A full perimeter means you're protected from winds, rain, and with not much extra effort, spindrift.
No floor means that you don't really care if you open the door in the rain.
If you get the shelter in silnylon, and size it for two, like the 8'3"-er in the photo above, it's light enough (18 oz) for solo use, big enough that two people don't kill each other, there's room left over for all the gear, and the dog, and you can crank it down tight to huge stakes and a bunch of guylines without worrying about it, like you do with Cuben Fiber.
If you add a short noseeum perimeter, like the one in the photo above, you keep out the bugs simply by stashing gear all around it.
If you get it in Buttercup Yellow like the one above, it matches the flowers and makes for pretty photos and Martha Stewart will even be impressed at your ability to decorate the wilds with good color matching.
If you get it in silnylon grey, you'll blend in better and suffer an identity crisis because there are a lot of these out there in grey.
And if you go from a poncho, or a little Cuben Fiber tarp, or a Moment, or a (the?) One, or a Unishelter, or a Firstlight, or a Lunar Solo, or just about anything else that costs more or weighs more or wears out sooner, you just might think you died and gone to heaven and give yourself a good smack on the forehead for not buying into the pyramid cult earlier.
If I could only keep ONE shelter, it would be a Buttercup Yellow Silnylon Pyramid, because I could do everything on just about any trail in the world during the three tempered seasons, and most of what I'd want to do in the fourth season, and the color makes me cheery on stormy days.
Bob Marshall Wilderness, Montana (Sigma DP2s, ISO 50, f/11, 1.6 sec.)
Waking up to this is not a bad gig, but this is what I had to work with on Friday morning.
The problem with this view is that I could see it out of the window as I taught an indoor class for a couple of hours Friday, and it was distracting.
However, I had the opportunity to pack everyone up so we could actually walk towards, and behind that big mountain.
It's called the Walling Reef (to the right) and is one of the most fantastic limestone cliff reefs in the Bob Marshall Wilderness. The mountain to the left of it is also a big deal, it's called Old Man of the Hills, and it's an easy climb to the summit. Traversing the Walling Reef, on the other hand - that's for goats - but there's a good bench hidden on the E side of the crest with a Class 3 entry/exit to the south that's doable, but a little scary and exposed.
In the middle of the two is that big canyon, the North Fork Dupuyer Creek. That was our target, and we spent Friday night back up in there, tucked neatly into the Wilderness Area.
On the North Fork Dupuyer Creek, Bob Marshall Wilderness, Montana
Sigma DP2s, f/11, 1/20 sec.
I spent a few days over the past weekend on the eastern slope of the Bob Marshall Wilderness in the vicinity of the Walling Reef. This campsite was just inside the canyon, so there's mountains all round and sunset here means it gets cold quick. Here, I'm basking in the day's final bit of heat, which is captured inside my tarp, before the sun goes down behind Bennie Hill, looming in the background.
Boy Scout, Montana Trekking
Sigma DP2, ISO 50, f/5.0, 1/1000 sec.
A lot of things vie for our kids' time and interests, including but not limited to video games, which this post is not about.
I could suggest why spending time outside with peers might be a better use of time than spending time playing video games, but that may not be the right battle to fight because (a) the short term reward systems that deepen addiction to video games may be more powerful than the long term benefits of participating in outdoor recreation as a social activity and (b) it's a fight against the behemoth we all love to hate and hate to love called Organizational Marketing for Recruitment because of the perhaps misguided belief that Bigger is Better, at least in terms of Membership Numbers.
These are all topics for another day, of course: back to the photo.
The good fight to fight is that which spends money from the pocketbooks of youth parents wisely, and that which saves our kids from heavy loads on their backs.
The pack in the photo is the prototype of a 2-lb pack we're building for backpacking Scouts. It's 65% lighter, absorbs 80% less water, and will cost 35% less than the most popular internal frame pack carried by Scouts new to backpacking, and parents new to buying gear for their Scouts that they don't have to lug up and down the mountains.
It's intentionally been designed to be small enough so as not to fit all the gear that Scouts are told to carry these days by misinformed or inexperienced leaders and the risk management experts who review gear lists for high adventure programs. It has an internal frame so the Scout can carry several days of food, so even a 12-year old can go on a 50-miler. In the new BSA Guide "Passport to High Adventure", wilderness backpacking is now recommended for kids aged 15 and older, an age guideline that has been creeping upward for the past 80 years. What a disaster, to rob younger kids of these experiences.
The pack of course is only part of the problem, and a relatively minor one at that.
The real battle, like that with video gaming, is about education.
That's why today, I'm joining a corps of six instructors from Backpacking Light to teach Scout leaders from across the U.S. in a sold-out wilderness course where they will learn how to implement lightweight backpacking programs in their own troops and high adventure programs, and why we are working with Montana BSA to provide High Adventure Treks that immerse Scouts into ultralight backpacking in a deep and meaningful way.
What better proving ground to show that ultralight backpacking really does work, than the Bob Marshall Wilderness in May?
The photo, of course, is my son Chase, 11 years old and 70 pounds soakin' wet, carrying 13 pounds of food, personal gear (18.6% of his body weight, not 30%-40% as per BSA guidelines and 40%-50% which is common among Scouts), and patrol gear on a weekend trek near the snowline in March, in Montana, where we had temperatures down to 20 degrees and overnight winds gusting to 40 mph. My favorite part - he's walking upright, gave away one of his trekking poles ("I don't really need it, I suppose..."), and has a lot fewer things to keep track of than this Scout. Plus, he's got a bit of a swagger to him on that high ridge. I like his confident gait - it's fast, and intentional. He knows where he's going!
That doesn't make Chase, or anyone who carries a light pack, a better person.
But if better is defined as "more useful, suitable, or desirable" (freedictionary.com) then it would be hard to argue the case that you'll have a better time in the wilderness if you saddle your kids with stuff that displaces the knowledge of skills that they should be carrying in their brains, and a little bit of emotional fortitude to do without a few things for a few days.
Hard Times, Bob Marshall Wilderness
Sigma DP2, ISO 50, f/2.8, 1/800 sec.
These arrowleaf balsamroot flowers won't make it into Flower Photo Field Guides but they will have better stories to tell than the sissy flowers down in the forest.
They look like how I feel whenever I go off trail in the Bob.
Last year, my petals fell off during a traverse from Mid Creek to Silvertip Creek, which had some of this:
"Not A.T.", Upper Mid Creek, Bob Marshall Wilderness
Sigma DP2, ISO 50, f/2.8, 1/160 sec.
View more photos from last year's traverse here.
I'm heading back this weekend and expect:
In other words, it will be another perfect trek.
Trident, Northern Massif from Mountain Creek, Yellowstone National Park
Sigma DP1, ISO 100, f/11, 1/30 sec. Click for a little bit bigger.
In addition to flanking the remotest spot in the CONUS, the Trident (the mass of peaks and ridges making up the Trident Peak Massif) may be YNP's coolest peak, due its sheer size (volume) and complexity. The photo above shows only about 15% of its total ridgeline. There are four other main ridges you can't see, behind, and to the left.
The massif itself is rugged, and a traverse of it is not for the faint of heart, or inexperienced, or acrophobes, but successful completion of one will rank high in your list of all time best wilderness experiences ever.
If you don't have rock scrambling experience, this would qualify as a Hard Walk. If you can handle Class 3 scrambling on rotten stuff and serious mosquitoes, and are willing to carry a Tenkara fly rod and a packraft, and have some tolerance for suffering, you'll have a Pretty Good Time with this.
I've made a few traverses of the Trident, but my favorite is what I think is the proper one, because of its elegance and the level of engagement required to complete it, and the fact that it's nice to have both an ice axe and a packraft.
It starts and ends with non-simple transportation logistics, but if you don't have a car, you can start and end in Cody, WY with a little creativity that makes for good stories.
From Cody, hitchhike up to Deer Creek, then walk into the headwaters of the Thorofare River. Packraft for a day or two (depending on how good the fishing is) until you're about at the foot of the Trident's SW ridge, near campsite 6T1 in Yellowstone. Here's the view from there in a carelessly shot and poorly processed hand held panorama but it shows you the S side of the massif, and what the Thorofare River looks like when the packrafting is good, and what sort of low-el bush you might have to deal with.
The Trident from 6T1. Sigma DP2. Click for bigger.
Then, bushwhack, nav through matchsticks remaining from the Big Fire, then gain the ridge and enjoy the scramble to the plateau. Traverse the plateau, making sure to find a nice camp (I recommend two) up there on the grassiest benches on the E flanks, where there's lots of waterfalls below you and pretty cliffs above you, and really neat sunrises. Then, drop down into Mountain Creek if you've had enough, or continue NE to Overlook Mountain, which is Hard but really inspiring, and descend into Glacier Basin, where there is whitewater and good packrafting on Fishhawk Creek when the water is high, and lots of dangerous wood regardless of water levels. But you'll feel like a hardman for doing it, or you'll get fed up with stress and walk the trail (you'll boast about it later, so it will be worth any time you do spend in the water). Fishhawk takes you to all the way to the North Fork Shoshone where it's a cruise (except at high water, when there are serious holes to deal with) to Cody and good food, and rodeo.
Give yourself about 7 days if you are going to be intense about this, and 10 days if you want to enjoy yourself a bit.
If you do this in October - and you can ("trust me" comes with wide latitude, FYI) - be sure to take a dry suit and ice climbing gear to play on the waterfalls on the E face of the Trident, and maybe an extra hat. There is nothing quite like it anywhere, and the mosquitoes are gone. But your pack will be heavy, and you'll be real cold sometimes, and you might even be able to bum a steak at an outfitter camp.
Firehole River Near Ojo Caliente, Yellowstone National Park
Sigma DP1, ISO 100, f/11, 13 sec.
My favorite things about photographing in Yellowstone:
My least favorite thing about photographing in Yellowstone is the fact that the Prime Minutes of the Magic Hour near sunset usually corresponds to the peak of the hatch, and I can never decide whether to shoot pictures or shoot taper to rising fish.
On this night, I got to do both, because the little Sigma DP1 allowed me to get my river shot without a lot of fooling around.
Firehole River Rainbow, Catch and Release
Sigma DP1, ISO 100, f/4, 1/125 sec.
