So this week I saw a grizzly in Yellowstone. People said he was around, so I searched out the track -- grizzly bears often leave a clear track where they walk back and forth between their favorite feeding areas -- and followed it. He was sleeping on top of his kill, an American Bison, by a small pond. I'm pretty sure this was a reasonable thing to do, in spite of the fact that everyone I've discussed it with thinks it was crazy. The land lay in such a way that there were only a few places he could be that were out of sight, and I approached with what I think was sufficient caution to make sure I didn't get close enough to those places to provoke an encounter. I wouldn't want to hurt a bear, and if it went the other way and he killed me the Rangers would shoot him. Thus, while I really wanted to see him, I approached it in a way that would ensure his safety.
I also crossed a glacier at 10,400 feet and free climbed some rock chimneys without rope or safety gear. This, I learned later, is strongly not recommended by the park rangers. Once again, though, I think I knew what I was doing, and it was awesome.
Thought about Sly when we crossed into Montana. That was really beautiful, but the Grand Tetons are my new favorite place in the world. More, it surprises me to say, even than Georgia.
8 comments:
Big Sky. You don't forget the Big Sky.
You have been smitten by the mountain west!
As a boy in New England, I would feed my adventure gene with tales of Jedidiah Smith, Jim Bridger, Hugh Glass, Jim Coulter etc-at the earliest opportunity I went west for good.
RE-bears- pay close attention to the wind. They do not like to be surprised. Perhaps in Yellowstone they are more used to human smell, my experiences are limited to Alaska.
That's a fine point about the wind. I hadn't a specific thought about it at the time, but it was in my favor. Not that I think he would have cared: there was a coyote prowling far closer to his treasure than me, whom he did not trouble to awaken to smite.
It was a strange experience. I was being very careful, but I think really for his sake: I felt no fear at all of being killed by the bear. At no point was I thinking of self preservation.
I could leave all this and go West, if I knew the way. I will think on it.
Now you see what I mean about the mountains out here. Tetons is amazing country. Much of California is as amazing alpine terrain in it's way, and it's vastness. And then it's just a few hours at most drive to the beach. Like I've said before, the natural beauty and my extended family are all that keep me here anymore. But you see why.
Now you see what I mean about the mountains out here. Tetons is amazing country. Much of California is as amazing alpine terrain in it's way, and it's vastness. And then it's just a few hours at most drive to the beach. Like I've said before, the natural beauty and my extended family are all that keep me here anymore. But you see why.
The weather is probably nicer there this week as well. We're melting in triple digits in Georgia right now. And before you chime in with "but it was 110 in West Texas last week", Tex (though I doubt it was)... I lived in San Angelo during the summer, and hot there hasn't got a thing on hot in Georgia. The humidity makes all the miserable difference.
You're right about the heat. We flew back from 75 degree days in the Tetons right into Georgia summer heat and rush-hour traffic in Atlanta. I'm afraid my home state suffers in comparison on both fronts.
On the other hand, I hear the winters out in Jackson Hole are pretty intense.
Our preferred landscapes seem vary due to youthfulness, productivity and mood. The low hills,rolling fields and pastures, and mixed woodlots of the east along the foothills of Appalachians are a small lot farmers heaven- the land is lush. Reminds me of the Shire. The mountain west is a bright hard country with extremes of weather not seen in the east- but it is liberating to the soul-you can see for miles, and the air has a spicy tang to it, every summer, I anticipate leaving the Puget basin and riding over the Cascades and getting the first deep breath of Ponderosa Pine as the Pacific climate gives way to high desert. Makes me think of horses, Stetsons and lever action Winchesters. Or weather beaten Hawkin rifles and weather worn men.
There is a book called "The Deaths of the Bravo's" about the mountain west, following the lives of a dozen or so men, done in chronological chapters, so at any given time period one can see what they were all engaged in- quite interesting. The story of a young Jim Bridger and his abandoning of an apparently mortally wounded Hugh Glass, deep in Blackfoot country is a tale not to be missed. Glass took some effort to find Bridger after crawling back to "civilization", as Bridger had taken his favorite rifle.
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