It is a beautiful winter day in Lamar Valley, but the clouds are foreboding. We are heading to Mammoth Hot Springs so let’s see what this winter weather holds for us this morning. We’ve had about ten inches of snow the last few days at Lamar Buffalo Ranch, but today the sun streams through the broken eastern clouds.
Come along the 29 miles to explore . . .
Winter in Yellowstone’s Lamar Valley can be unpredictable, frigid, scary at times, intimately closed in, and gorgeous. Each day can bring surprises of all kinds, and weather is no exception. One winter day the sun rose, the clouds gathered, the storms came, and the snow blanketed both the valley and our adventure. Come along and share winter’s embrace.
The narrow trail beckons, well worn by valley explorers. Curving along the hillside to the rock and rolling creek revealing Teals bumpity, bump over rapids to tranquil pools and sandbars.
The knoll on my right increasingly pulls at my imagination. Strolling the well-trodden trail but constantly glancing right. Resting in the cottonwood’s shade yet being pulled toward that knoll. Covered with gnarly gray-green sagebrush, a fading facade of summer’s flowers, rocks that blend with cream-colored sand, and rocks along the creek popping with rust and pale green lichen.
This well-traveled trail stays close to the creek but the edge of that knoll–what might be on the other side? It’s just a short walk to wonder. The imagined visions explode with possibilities. A rolling landscape with hundreds of bison like huge rocks across the valley. A mirrored lake reversing the mountain forest above. Flowers ablaze adding red, yellow, purple to the color of sage. Songbirds galore keeping the cadence. The pull is too great. Heading up to the knoll’s edge to see what wonders await.
Through thigh-high sagebrush making me smell like Thanksgiving stuffing. Avoiding red stems with thorny warnings. Passing tiny plants with spiky yellow flowers so small a bee cannot get a foothold. Purple asters losing their petals to late summer weariness. Small spiders and grasshoppers jumping away from my footfall. The last few steps to the edge’s promise–excitement fills me. With camera ready I step to the top!
A rolling landscape of sagebrush and grasses, like a rubber-stamped picture of the landscape behind me. With late summer smells of dust and clicks and busses of grasshoppers and bees. With thigh-high sagebrush and late summer flowers.
But wait. See it? The edge of that knoll ahead. With a smile of renewed anticipation, I’m off! It’s just a short walk to wonder.
Until next time . . . be amazed in your neck of the woods.
Up, up, up into the mountains above Lamar Valley, with summer flowers and grasses waist-high. Walking poles become test devises for holes we can’t see in the lush foliage. Careful, there are holes deep enough to be up to your thigh with only one leg. Falling is always possible, but trusty poles help. These tripping dangers are the result of bison weight in the mud last spring, Uinta ground squirrels’ burrowing systems connecting their large community, and nature’s backhoe and rototiller, the badger, that digs holes up to 30 feet long and a foot in diameter. We will take our time, watch our step, and revel in the beauty of the hillsides that call us on.
Sitting in the shade of the conifers, bit of marsh below, resting against a rock, we are cushioned by deep, soft needles. Decades of needles absorbing random noise. Horsetail plants thriving in the dampness of the marsh, tall grasses waving in the breeze. A nap is not out of order.
Slow down, stop talking, enjoy the wind, the rustling grasses, and bird song. Is that a stream we hear or the wind blowing though the conifers? A chipmunk scampering along a downed tree, a chickadee we hear but cannot see. Flickers and Clark’s nutcrackers high in the trees adding their voices to the day’s chorus.
Aspens trembling in the breeze adding their black on white texture to the landscape. Sticky Geraniums presenting a symphony of pink. Indian Paintbrush popping scarlet staccatos. A crescendo of scattered white and yellow flowers. Always the conifers standing guard and keeping time. Take a deep breath, soak it in . . .
Welcome to summer in the Rockies!
