The Wilderness Multiology – Part 2 - Thighing through thnow and for the love of Prince Charles

Stage 2
Can you tell what it is yet?

The Tetons 3rd time running..

And a gloomy Tetons and a plan to walk the full length of Cascade Canyon to Lake Solitude. A walk of which we had only managed two thirds the summer before. The other plan is to ensure we catch the ferry back across Jenny Lake to avoid another “they were the longest two miles of my life episode”. So…7 am up to catch the 8 am ferry giving us until 6 pm.

It’s not looking good..


3 pm the day before

And the howl of the gyspy ranger’s curse still ringing in our ears…

”if it’s RAAAAAYNING down here it will be SERNOOOOOWING higher up the canyon”

….pah it’s late June, we had brilliant sunshine last year in late September.

The crocodile of waterproofs which actually looked line a giant green centipede as only the feet were on view…

bunch of drama queens.

5pm we are sitting in the car outside the Jackson Hole Albertsons' store trapped by the rain which threatens to sweep away the 8 cylinder Tundra parked opposite. P is contemplating a night in the cowboy motel, hoping they have forgotten my projectile vomit exhibition.

It eases and we stock up again, including a new blanket from the sports shop because for the last 3 nights in Yellowstone my maxi strength goose grease, winter papoose sleeping bag and hermetically sealed thermal combinations have failed to stop me feeling the cold.

We get back to camp where there appears to have been only a spit. In a fit of “scouty” enthusiasm everything is prepared for the next day and gathering ants in the bear locker overnight. I slip into my goose greased combinations, optimism heightened by my new “blankie”. Linus in Peanuts had it so worked out man.

7 am …a brief reminder the toilet block is three pots and a sink running cold water and no plugs. It is -3. The usually determined P rolls over taking his thermals and bobble hat and part of MY blankie with him….muttering ..bugger it.


8.30 am the sun has sprinkled a slight warmth and as the harpie of the camp kitchen I waft a flask full of tea under his nose.


9.30 am we catch the boat wearing 3 layers but then the climb up to Inspiration Point has loosened the layers and revealed I need Harmony hairspray (Click here if you were born after 1974)

The view downwards over the edge make’s the pulse race, thus helping the blood circulation too.

 We are heading into the canyon and as we have said before this is where the crowds then start to thin to nothing:

And the snow scare mongering is so unfounded.

Or is it?

 We crack on at a merry pace. Some blue sky

 11.00 am

Oh look we have arrived at the same spot we reached last year, where the cascades meet and dribs and drabs of snow

For 100 yards and then

I am not on snow, I am in snow…P is on top of the snow. We walk through the forest on 3 ft of compacted snow for a while, emerging into the light and then look back from whence we came

Once in open valley I have to concentrate on not stepping into P’s tracks since the compacted snow of the trees has given way to softening snow .. he goes down to his knees, I go down to my thigh and have to do the temper tantrum stomp to get out of the holes he’s made. There is no obvious path so we traverse what we think is the safest route.

Marmot snickers at only 2 ft away since he knows I can’t catch him…

The sun comes out and we stop for breath again, look back again

P is so hot he bares his naked chest but decency prevents me from showing the picture. And we walk on

Do I look tired to you?

 And there it is….

What ?

What indeed you might bloody ask…Lake Solitude of course, whaddya mean you don’t believe us?

Well there was a lake and an otter shot through a hole in the surface but we didn't catch that on camera either.


I need a rest

It is 1 pm we head back. P wants to be alone or is it that I can't keep up?

Altogether now to the tune of Buddy Holly - Raining in my Heart, 2,3 4

The sun is out
The sky is blue
 The sun is out, the sky is blue...

The snow is melting P D Q

So P is sinking,
Sinking to his crotch. 

It is only as P cracks his shin disappearing down a crevice or maybe that’s a crevasse…well we have no way of knowing whether we are on a path, that I finally see the point of snow pole/sticky things which I have always viewed as one of a few things:

- a means of trying to convince onlookers you conquered the North Face of the Eiger last week

- less old fashioned than a walking stick

- less nerdy than a walking stick with badges of all the mountains with a gift shop at the bottom or where the cable car ends

- the wrong thing you picked out of the umbrella stand at 7 am on a morning when the BBC had predicted precipitation of a precipitative nature hurlting down from Forties Cromerty

- solely to trip short people up when they have enough things to think about when climbing mountains

We , well I struggle and at some point P looks back to see where I am…

Retracing my steps…because I dropped my Jack Wolfskin fleece 100 yards back. Heaven forbid I leave it behind.


To add insult to injury as I walk past the tiniest spray of Christmas tree peeping out the of the snow..it discovers new found vigour and three foot of the rest of it, mischievously hidden under its pristine white blanket, twangs upwards, out of the depths slapping me in the face with ice and snow..and yes once again I have lost two feet of my original height but I am a brave soldier until

"Come on we don’t want to miss the boat…” comes the helpful call across the avalanche prepped valley…

I decide to “ski” my way back, slipping and sliding down dips, tumbling and rolling when necessary.

It is 2.30 pm I have just recovered my aplomb from a dip in a very slushy hollow when, 2 Texan girls pop out from the trees. How do I know they are Texan? Because

1) they ask if there is time to get to the lake and back and still reach the boat for 6.
2) they have been whisked by, their oil magnate or Barnet shale magnate daddy , by uber speedy jet directly from a TCU cheerleaders training session in 100 degrees F  and the journey was that quick they didn't have time to change from their football shorts, t shirts, ankle socks and “pumps”.

We provide the facts obviously in Serbo Croat since they felt it necessary to nod respectfully and ignore us anyway.

I mutter about the stupidity of not being prepared for winter walking …having just traversed an unmarked snow plain and as my indignant yada yada yada pride reaches it’s peak WHOMP flat on my face.

P cries......

Not in shock or sympathy.

When he has recovered he offers me a fluff covered chocolate raisin then picks me up by the seat of my pants like a sack of potatoes.

When we get back to the 5.30 boat not only have Ipsy and Dipsy migrated from the heat but the whole of bloody Texas is waiting, none of them believe we too are native Texans but at least don't mistake us for Serbo Croat.

And now an example of what happens to a man pushed to his physical limits…12 miles ofCascade Canyon 5 of which were in more than 3ft of snow.

You need to know the beer is called “Old Faithful” which is the title of the signature tune of the rugby league team Hull FC, the arch rivals to P’s team Hull Kingston Rovers. Coupled with the 6 day whiskers and the alluring perfume of my goose grease and thermals he’s losing it…that’s it he needs a wash and some civilisation.


2nd full day in the Tetons and an eery drive to the shower block 17 miles away…

On the way back, an acute sense of déjà vu…the exact spot and blurry vision of the coyote that tracked us last year

The rest of the day everyone relaxes

Well that was the plan but we go for an evening walk of 6 miles

On our return, in tribute to Alexis Soyer, Victorian Celebrity Chef the outdoor culinary endeavours commence, 15 minutes in and

“Wow that smells great, isn’t that just how it’s meant to be done ma’am”

Two young women and a bean pole saunter up, P is already pretending to be a rock by the fire and has left me in unguarded position. I look up too late and off they go:

“My name is na na, my name is na na and he (the bean pole) is na na. We are from the Happy Clappy Slappy Backy Church of the Unswervingly Optimistic Blessed and Sandled (Multi Faith) and we would like to invite you to our multi faith service tomorrow morning at 8.30 am. It is a little early but we would be delighted to see you there.”

I proffer weakly

"We will see what we can do but we have been rather energetic of late”

They

“What have you been doing?”

The fire stone talks!

“Well we walked to Lake Soli…

They of the perfect teeth,

“OMG are you the mad couple that walked through snowdrifts. You did so well."

(for old gits is the subtext, if they knew such a terrible phrase)

Day 3 we leave the Tetons to the shimmering tring of tambourine

And they are oblivious to their huge loss of my rendition of "They Plough the fields and scatter"

And looking back down the valley as we approach the other side of the Tetons on our trip to west Glacier I have a real Three Degrees Moment

“OMG are you the mad couple that walked through snowdrifts. You did so well"

And S is nowhere, nowhere to be seen

The Wilderness Multiology – Part 1 - Atilla, Marie and the joys of an outdoor refrigerator

Snappy title huh?

Our longest holiday yet – 2 secret, for now, destinations and Glacier National Park with the specific aim of travelling the Road to the Sun from East to West Glacier via Logan Pass.

First stop Minneapolis St Paul in Minnesota, the Lancashire of the USA. State animal, the mosquito. Having forgotten it is the Land of 10,000 Lakes I was relieved to be in a hermetically sealed legionnaires hatchery as opposed to being out in the elements of a balmy, wet Minneapolis St Paul.

It was comforting to know that as menopausal amnesia descends I could comfortably make my home in the state whose official saint is St Anthony the patron saint of lost causes as within 10 minutes there were 6 announcements of people having left items behind - including the totally lost and disoriented woman who is likely to be sacked( if she ever finds her way back) from the DFW metroplex tourism office for losing all her copies of "Come to Texas" monthly, the official mosquito photographer and his tripod and Mr William's and his mobile.

Altough we never got beyond the hallowed portals of the airport lounge I can't help feeling that St Paul was not necessarily buzzing, given that the Bookclub for Ladies in Comfortable Shoes seemed to have opted to have the June meeting in the French Meadow bakery and cafe declaring it to be the most delightful lunch ever. The volume suggested they had known to ask for absinthe from "below the counter", all it needed was for Anais Nin, Gertrude Stein and Alice B Toklas and the chorus line from Moulin Rouge and  the French salon atmosphere would have been complete.

Back up in the air, a couple of aerials which lulled us into a false sense of meteorological security

    

and we land at

 the size of Humberside airport....and that's all I've got to say about that.

Dinner at the McKenzie River Pizza Company and the first great

On the next phase of our trip some subtle hints that maybe not all was green in my valley

Then …..

here we come. Which was why I mentioned secret locations because the faithful would know we did this trip last September. Our plan was to leave it a year before we came back, but stuff has come up. It was a different experience not least mainly because of the weather so please read on..

The location of the first campsite..Tower Falls

And close up or as close as you could get as there had been a landsllip and you were not allowed to take the path to the bottom.

We set up camp rushing to beat the rain. Note the new wind proof (see Big Bend and Palo Duro Blogs) bijou, 3 man residence shot in sun the day we left Tower Falls.

Not only have we invested in a posh gaff weighing only 5 lbs we have added to our extensive camping range..a tarpaulin for extra insulation, two Walmart $2.99 subtle orange and lime green inflatable beds as they fitted better in a case than our roll mats. The unforeseen drawback between them being on land rather than water is that the whole campsite can hear you move or else thinks there is a wheezing old git sleeping next door.

First evening we went for a bit a walk and saw a wolf tearing at a carcass except that my camera can't compete with the camouflage of the countryside and the zoom lenses of the mumbly people who feel they only communciate effectively with animals and the Yellowstone STASI.

First night, Ranger Smith came to move a carcass from the back of the campsite so that bears, wolves and Canadians didn't come looking for dinner. I was a bit miffed as I thought it I would have made up for lost shots..

We met Jessica (originally from Scarborough) and Scott from Reading who were coincidentally going to drink wine and play shithead (a card game). Over the course of which a series of mumbly type people came over to see what was going on and regale their sightings of bears over the last 30 years in reverential tones.

Anyway - Day 2 Hayden valley which we didn’t see last year

Then we didn't see in the rain either...

The bottom of Dunraven Pass which we hoped to walk up but it was closed because it still had large snow drifts which you can't see because half of it is shrouded in clouds..a repetitive story this year. Now concentrate and screw up your eyes; to the right of the left hand pine tree . …a grizzly mother and two cubs - honest. 

And so to Yellowstone Lower Falls, this shot taken by P as I don't do edges and am always on the verge of tears when P goes near them too.

And the view down the valley

Taken on a dull day. It is difficult to provide scale and no-one will volunteer to throw themselves in front of the camera to give perspective so this next shot look on the right hand side of the picture there is a giant staircase which might help... more of that later.

It would have been useful to have a lollipop lady in a bright green coat standing on it too but there you go.

I was also hoping that if we returned I would get a shot of this finally falling away but it didn't happen.

Next stop the Upper Falls

On our way back to the car, humans get many warnings about gettin near buffalo....

Sometimes you are not given the choice

And on the return to Camp Run Amok  me trying to be artistic - well all the colours were so vivid:

Then we turned a corner and Mother Nature produced this!

So 2 nights of wet and cold and we wake to sun but our valley rain was snow on Dunraven Pass road where we had been the day before and  left 2 inches of ice on the road so we had to do an 70 mile round trip to our next campsite Canyon Village, still in Yellowstone but not our original choice as that is still shut because of the ....begins with s and ends in w 1 syllable.

On the way we get to see a pronghorn or two:

Next day  back in the sunshine to the Lower Falls and the view from the top of the staircase above. The path you see is the path we took down to the top of the Lower Falls...dizzy yet?

Then Sharman is a big brave girl and takes this down the stairs...I was going to go down that stairs. Those of you who know me will know I hate walking across bridges and piers where you can see the water swirling below so this was a big thing.

My bravery rewarded

The colours further down the valley were great too.

And looking back down to the falls again

For a litigious society to look over the edge with no rail always seems contradictory

I think I said before Yellowstone gets 5 million visitors a year but it is a common factor that walk ten minutes from the central attraction in any of the national parks and the traffic is reduced by about 85% which means you come across serenity and the wilderness it strives to achieve

And miniature versions of the bigger attractions

It is obviously more difficult to find an animal manicurist here - it was only about 7 inches long so just a youngster.

Sitting duck?

An eight mile walk and back to the campsite chiller for aperitifs

Another cold start. Plans to walk another pass which is higher than Yellowstone Lake

Requires another re-think.

On the other side of the road a geyser and mud bath is merrily bubbling and steaming. Proceeding around the ice floe we meet a Konglommeration of Kamouflage Kenny Kodaks because of:

A young female grizzly, who takes a little walk but then decides that a post deer calf lunch requires a snooze

She then hears Disney is looking to do a real version remake of Winnie the Pooh

Anyone up for tickling my tummy?

Ranger Smith is freaking out about the volume of cars and people standing outside of them in danger of a mauling so we leave for a chat with this guy

Does he look cross to you? Well it's because we stopped taking photgraphs of him and started chatting to a Millwall fan...from Bradford. He resorted to chittering at us very loudly....... not the Millwall fan.

We finished off our walk on Yellowstone Lake  beach which had bubbling and festering activity, yes the  lake that had ice on it.

And here almost endeth the Yellowstone leg which almost coincided with the end of the life of the Grandma who decided that at the start of the dead quiet hours (10 pm) she would become Kansas' answer to Jackanory regailing the adventures of Abigail to Aaaambrrrr for an hour. When a good night depends upon you falling asleep before you realise that you are still that cold despite sealing your goosefat doused body in thermals, jogging top with a hat inside, a sleeping bag which is designed for below 30 and your new cosier two man tent degrees especially when you know that you will be waking up at 6 trying to convince your bladder that it really doesn't need emptying yet because it will be the coldest part of the day and your arthtiric hip requires you to crawl oyour hands and knees, possibly into a faceful of overnight snow.

All of which becomes irrelevant anyway because the party behind you decides to break camp at  5.30  which is 2 and half hours before end of camp quiet hours anouncing

- wake up Grandma (a ifferent grandma),

- Atilla, Marie stop your yowling (a gender confused dog)

The rule....is always ask for a loop on the campsite that does not allow motorized homes or find a little campsite where they are NOT ALLOWED AT ALL!!!!!

Alternatively smear the outside with baked beans and watch the wildlife come to  peel the van open just like a bean tin.

Next stop ...it's a secret.