Lamar Valley Dream: Yellowstone, Part 1

August 27-29

I passed into Yellowstone from Gardiner, Wyoming by way of the north entrance and the Roosevelt Arch, dedicated in 1903 by the park's champion, Teddy Roosevelt. The passage hummed with the great expectations of the thousands of others who had entered the park through this great gateway in the last 100 years, whether by foot, wagon or camper.

Then

...and now

As we left Gardiner, Harry and I were ushered across the threshold by a cow elk, the only elk we would see in or near the park. The elk was of interest to Harry (C-O-W)---the feeling was not mutual.

Rocky Mountain elk cow, by the Yellowstone River, Gardiner, MT.

After passing through the magic portal, I had one more stop before entering the park: the functional entrance gate. It was staffed by a female ranger with untidy hair and a patient smile.

"Welcome to Yellowstone" 

"Thanks, I'm so excited! I'm a Yellowstone virgin"

**blink, blink**

"Umm, this is your first visit?"

"Yes! First visit! I'm planning to head straight to Pebble Creek to get a campsite before they fill up..."

"That's a good plan. It filled up yesterday by 2:00. It's an hour's drive from here."

"Oh, it's only 9. Maybe I can dawdle a bit."

"Depends on what you mean by dawdling..."

"What amount of dawdling do you recommend?"

"Stick with your original plan."

I knew pretty quickly how difficult that would be. My plan was this: get my campsite---no dawdling. Then tour the Yellowstone loop and see the thermal features and some of the other classic sites, saving my ultimate goal, the legendary Lamar Valley (described as the American Serengeti), for the entirety of my second day. My pathway to Pebble Creek and a coveted campsite was delayed, in part, by forces external to me: traffic at Mammoth Hot Springs, bison road blocks...

And some were of my own doing, as I was unprepared for the visceral reaction to my first sight of the Lamar Valley. As I drove along the road connecting the north and northeastern gates (see purple route on this map) I kept wondering, as each new vista unfolded before me---was this the place? But you know when you're there. 

Pagoo arrives in the Lamar Valley

 At the vista point, as I looked down the hammock of green vale cut through its center by the snaking silver of the Lamar River, the theme song from Jurassic Park began playing, unbidden, in my head: "They do move in herds...". Sounds cheesy, I know, but I think I had stopped believing herds of large, wild, native creatures existed in America. The only evidence I had to the contrary had been indirectly delivered through Disney or PBS, but here I could breath the sage-scented air and hear the grunts of the bison bulls. During the precious moments absent the noise of man, I could almost believe I was transported to a time long before the internal combustion engine and the age of asphalt. In the eight mile reach of the valley cradles bison, pronghorn, bighorn, black-tailed deer, elk, grizzly and black bears, coyotes, bald eagles and grey wolves (my wolf experience deserving of its own blog).

Herd of American bison as they might have looked
 before the European invasion of the west. Lamar Valley, Yellowstone NP

Bighorn ewe and lamb graze near the road

                                         

                                      Bison bull flehmening at the scent of a receptive cow.

Bison bull, cow and pumpkin colored young calf

Herd of pronghorn led by a dominant male grazes on a hill rising up
from the floor of the Lamar Valley.

Pronghorn male with oozy scent glands on his cheeks.

Soda Butte at the northeastern end of the valley

I was unable to summon either bear species on this visit, I am told they were high in the mountains foraging on berries and moths. At the far north end of the valley, on the seemingly impossible vertical terrain of Baronnette Peak, I watched the balancing act of mountain goats as they led their kids from ledge to ledge, on the lookout for eagles that threaten to knock them from their tenuous hold.

Mountain goats are tiny white dots on the rock face
 of Baronnette Peak.

I had heard a great deal about the beauty of the rugged Tetons, but I think I prefer the soft edges I found here. I am a girl of the sagebrush and grasses, gentle cobbled river banks and dark blues and greys of river-worn rock and stone. Harry liked it too, although it is among the least dog friendly of wild places. It broke my heart to limit his experience of the place (and mine) to a 100 foot radius around the roads. My heart ached to hit the trails and the paths less traveled. But he got to see and smell the big game and roll in the ancestral aroma of a bison wallow and I was glad to have company with whom I could share my joy.

Harry finds a bison wallow irresistible.

I did manage to keep to some semblance of my original plan. After a tour of the full loop (see all the colors on the map) on the first day, I devoted all of the second and the morning of the third to the Lamar Valley. I made it to my lovely campsite at Pebble Creek and found it alive with butterflies and devoid of the sound of generators (they are banned at the campground).

Fritillary (Speyeria) species nectaring on aster,
Pebble Creek campground

Acmon blue (Plebejus acmon) on goldenrod

Before this visit, I had an image of Yellowstone in my head. It was one of long lines of cars and crowds of people gawking at a bored black bear strolling down a road. Maybe it's a stereotypic image---I did see some hints of that on occasion. Maybe I was cynical from my days as a keeper in drive-through zoos, where crowds and bored animals are the status quo. My message to you now, if you haven't yet been to Yellowstone, is GO. It is a miraculous, wondrous taste of what we once had before so much became corn, soybeans and cattle. It should be on your bucket list---if you've saved for a weekend in Vegas, go visit our Serengeti instead. If you can camp, this is a bargain destination: $25 to get in, $15 per night to stay at a campground. It will make your heart swell.