Trip Report - Part I of I.

I decided to do this in two parts, just to make it manageable. Part I is done. Part II is a work in progress. I tried to time this to coincide with when Monday Night Football would normally be starting, but I'm a little late. I'm kind of new at this synchronization business.

MILLENNIUM TRIP REPORT - Part I

TUESDAY, 12/28/99

This trip, originally scheduled to begin in the afternoon of Monday, 12/27/99, was delayed due to incompleted projects that needed to be wrapped up before departure. We finally got out around 9:20 AM on Tuesday, stopped in Livingston for gas and groceries, and arrived in Gardiner around 1:45 PM. We were delayed enroute by a large herd of cattle being moved from summer range to winter range along Hwy 89, near Emigrant. Between Livingston and Gardiner, we spotted a total of ten bald eagles, including a pair sitting close together in the same tree. We checked into the Absaroka Lodge. By 2:30 PM, we were in Mammoth, stopping at the Yellowstone Center for Resources. We spent some time going through the racks of published research, looking for any info on the antelope study or the bottom-mapping in Yellowstone Lake. We did not find anything on those subjects, but did manage to pick up reprints on a number of other subjects. We met with the folks at the Center, inquiring about the antelope study and the lake research. We were told that they don't have anything on the antelope study yet, but the interim report is due in from the researcher by some time in February. We have requested to be provided information when it is available; and will share it on the chat page. Nothing new has been published on the research in the lake, however, we were told that during the past two summers exciting new technology has "revolutionized" the study and results. If we wanted to see information on what the crew and researchers on R.V. CUTTHROAT were finding, we could check out a four poster storyboard arrangement in the first floor hallway of the Administration Building.

We walked from the Center for Resources over to the Albright Visitor Center. Along the way, we noticed an abundance of cow elk and calves pawing through the almost one foot-deep snow to munch on the lawn between buildings. There was another herd out where the web cam is usually pointed, just beyond the parking area. Rolf had suggested we make a snowman or some other evidence of our being there. Looking at the old, dry, powdery snow, it was apparent that there was not going to be any snow sculptures created, barring a change in the weather. It was clear, with one of those typically dark blue skies Yellowstone is famous for, but it was also cold. The snow had obviously been sitting around for some time, acquiring that granularity common to old snow after the delicate feathery aspects of the crystal get ground off. What you are left with are the frozen H20 version of ball bearings. I thought, "This is the stuff avalanche conditions are made of if you get a new dump of snow on top of it and then a hard freeze." We inquired at the visitor center about the "little red car", which was parked right out front. We were talking to the owner of that web cam icon. This individual, who normally works at Old Faithful, is working at Mammoth this winter. He told us about how Tom H. helped him get the car to Mammoth; and how one other visitor had mentioned seeing the car on the web cam. We joked about how it would be really cool if we could figure out a way to have the "little red car" show up on the Old Faithful web cam in the spring, when he moves back down there. Cathy and I debated about how much to reveal about the vehicle's owner. We settled on definitely not giving his name, partially for the sake of his privacy, partially because it would be more fun to let other Loons discover him on their own. He is mildly amused by his car's celebrity. I should also mention that he is a very nice fellow.

By the time we wrapped up at the visitor center, it was almost 5:00 PM. With what little daylight remained, we opted to drive up to the parking lot for the Terrace Loop. Things were pretty quiet up there. There were two or three vehicles parked by where people ski the loop, with several tow vehicles and snowmobile trailers parked up closer to the road closure. We returned to Mammoth proper, and cruised the hotel. We checked out the bulletin boards that contain weather forecasts and trail conditions. As is so often the case, the trail conditions had not been updated much. There was a local fellow playing the piano in the Map Room from 5:00 to 8:00 PM, then he was scheduled to deliver a 45 minute slide program afterwards. We walked across the street to the dining room and checked out the menu. It looked better than recent winters, with lots of new items and reasonable prices. Since we were not sure which restaurants were open in Gardiner, we opted to eat dinner at the hotel. We had a nice meal. The dining room was fairly quiet, a scene we would see repeated later in the week. While there, we made reservations for dinner on New Years Eve at 8:15 PM. It was a good thing we ate in Mammoth. When we returned to Gardiner around 6:45 PM, we found the Park Place Grill closed, as was Helen's. It appeared the choices for dinner in Gardiner were reduced to Outlaws Pizza, The Yellowstone Mine, and K-Bar pizza. I should have mentioned that the Town Cafe was also closed, but I'm trying to pretend that booster of the Friends of the Yellowstone Elk doesn't exist. Being worn out from the mayhem in Missoula trying to get ready for the trip and the four hour drive, we went to bed relatively early.

WEDNESDAY, 12/29/99

We got out fairly early, and headed for Lamar Valley. We spotted a bald eagle just inside the Park entrance. Once we left Mammoth, the road was snow-covered. The actual snow depths were deeper than we expected. We came across a radio-collared coyote walking the road about a mile past the Blacktail Plateau Road entrance. We saw two more coyotes napping in the snow on a frozen pond near the Specimen Ridge trailhead. As we cruised through Little America, we noticed several cars (3) pulled off near where people park to walk to the petrified trees on Specimen Ridge. There were more vehicles at the parking lot where Slough Creek Road (closed in winter) meets the northeast entrance road. Nobody seemed to be watching anything in particular. Scopes were set up, but nobody was using them. It looked like typical post-viewing palaver. We pressed on, driving through the Lamar Valley, as snow-cloaked in fresh white as I've ever seen it. We had just passed Soda Butte, when we spotted two coyotes feeding on an elk carcass off the road on the left about 200-300 feet. It had Kodak moment written all over it. In late December, you have low angle sunlight virtually all day, due to the earth's tilt relative to the sun. The elk's rib cage was plainly visible, so we stopped and got pictures/video footage. We were to find out later that this was one of two elk kills in the area made by the Druid Peak pack shortly after Christmas.

We meandered back toward Tower Junction, so we could get some skiing in. There were at least six or seven other vehicles parked at the winter road closure. We hit the trail at noon, skiing up the groomed track set by the National Park Service on the road. We could not help but notice the abundance and diversity of hoar frost crystals. Even along the road, where it had been plowed, the long feathery crystals sparkled in the sunlight. There was a delicacy and intricacy of detail readily apparent to the unaided eye. You didn't need a microscope to check out these amazing crystal forms; and they were everywhere. There were tufts of snow, tipped with the frost crystals on top of signs, coating tree branches and weeds, and in some cases, just growing out of the ubiquitous snow layer. With occasional photo stops in the brilliant sunlight, we got to the Tower Store right around 1:00 PM. There were three or four groups of people lounging around, eating lunch at the picnic tables we like to sit at in the summer, while consuming those gargantuan ice cream cones served up by the Hamilton Store folks. We met a nice couple from Michigan. They had both snowmobiled the Park before, but the wife preferred skiing. The husband liked snowmobiling, but was sympathetic to the issues around doing it in Yellowstone. We met another couple who had snowshoed up. They were planning on meeting their son and daughter-in-law, who had skied the Lost Lake Loop. Since this was the first time we had skied this particular trail, we decided to be conservative and ski the steep part uphill, doing the Chittenden Loop Trail. (We had always avoided it due to crowds in the past.) We left the store around 1:50 PM, and skied through the campground and up the old fire road that heads steeply uphill to an eventual meeting with the road over Dunraven Pass. We met two couples skiing the trail the other direction. They had the right idea. It got a little warm huffing and puffing up that long hill, but we got some great pictures of each other with the Hellroaring country off in the distance. We reached the junction with the Dunraven Pass Road around 3:30 PM. It was late enough that we had the whole place to ourselves. We hung out at the junction for a few minutes, drinking in the vision of Mt. Washburn cloaked in snow. The steadily sinking sun was starting to lengthen the shadows of trees and hills alike. It was time to head back. We had been looking forward to cruising the three miles back down to the store, but unfortunately, we found ourselves doing more double-poling than I would have preferred after the steep ascent. We met our sixth and seventh coyotes of the day about halfway down to the store. Cathy had stopped to get a picture of me skiing down the road. Suddenly coyote #6 crossed the road just downhill from me about 50 or 60 feet. I took off down the road. I caught up to it as it started angling up the hillside opposite Antelope Creek. I decided it would be fun to race a coyote on skis, so I issued the challenge. Of course, the coyote blew me off. They always do, but I talk to them anyway. I told Cathy I was racing the coyote. She tried to get a picture of us heading north. I've seen her shot. Unfortunately, the coyote is not all that visible among the sage on the hillside. Eventually, I figured out why the coyote wasn't cooperating in my attempt to establish the first Antelope Creek Inter-species Snow Race. There was another coyote, #7, well ahead of #6, further north and almost on top of the ridge. #6 just kept heading north and uphill at a 45 degree angle, while I was heading north and DOWNHILL at a much more gradual angle. This race bore a similarity to my vision of taking Michael Jordan on one-on-one. Coyote #6 didn't really care to participate, had nothing to prove, but still beat me, while climbing a steep hill to meet his/her pal. Michael would just be filling out Christmas cards or talking on the phone while giving me a "facial".

We got back to the store around 4:20 PM and reached the car at 5:15 PM (the only car there by that time). We got to see a startling display of sunset-driven color and lighting changes in the clouds and hills to the north as we descended from Tower to the car. The hoar frost crystals that lined the trail seemed to glow pink and orange in the dwindling daylight. I made a mental note to come back soon to devote some serious photographic time to this phenomenon. By 5:30 PM, we were mobile, heading back to Gardiner. As we were leaving Tower Junction, heading toward the Tower Ranger Station, we could barely make out two coyotes, #8 and #9 for the day, heading right to left from the meadow to our right toward the ranger station on the left. As we drove on, we discussed how we had witnessed this convergence of multiple coyotes from the direction of the river many times in the past in this exact area. We pondered the potential significance. By the time we got beyond Elk Creek (where we always see moose in summer), it was dark enough that driving with headlights was absolutely necessary. The hoar frost crystals on top of the disturbed snow plowed up on the sides were reflecting the headlights. The snow had been thrown as far as 20-30 feet from the roadway. There must have been slight melting on a warm day; and then came bone-chilling cold. The moisture in the snow expressed itself as these newly-formed feathery crystals, many with a flat plate of snow in the center. Those plates, in the projected light, functioned much like the most reflective brocade ever developed by Mother Nature. It was like an endless series of crystalline mirrors. The net effect was like driving through a Currier and Ives environment to which some benefactor had added a goodly dusting of diamonds on top of the snow. To say it was breathtaking would be understatement!

We saw the tenth coyote of the day along the road, as we approached the Lava Creek area. We descended to Gardiner and went by Helen's, which thankfully, was open, to grab a takeout dinner and retire to our room to spend the evening watching Kansas State and Washington duke it out in the Holiday Bowl.

THURSDAY, 12/30/99

The game kept us up late and we slept in on Thursday. We didn't get out of Gardiner until 10:00 AM. On the way up to Mammoth we realized we had neglected to check out the posters in the Administration Building, so that was our first stop. What we found was a treasure trove of information. There was at least 10 or 15 feet of wall covered with storyboard presentations on the bottom-mapping project, the revised winter use plan, bison use of roadways in the winter, GIS maps and aerial/satellite photography of various thermal areas in the Park, and other subjects. Between that information and the collection of old railway flyers from the 1920s and 1930s hawking the value of visiting "wonderland", we were kept busy until 11:30 AM. We decided to do a light lunch at the Hamilton Store. We sat at a table with the woman that manages the phone system for Amfac and had an enjoyable conversation about all manner of things. We got into a lengthy conversation with the Hamilton Store employees. There were a number of people from Colorado that work at the Tower Store in the summer, including the manager. He and his wife both work for Hamilton Stores.

We left for the Lamar Valley around 12:30 PM. Enroute, we pulled off at the Hellroaring Overlook, which the NPS is plowing this season. It was a real pleasure to get the scopes out and study that large chunk of the "American Serengeti". There were large elk herds scattered all over the large open area where the Buffalo Plateau Trail ascends south of the Coyote Creek Trail. Amazingly, most of the herds resembled those you see in summer, with the bulls staying in their own separate herds. (In the Lamar we would see both summer and winter herd behavior. In Colorado, we always saw merged herds in winter with the bulls, cows, spikes, and calves all together.) There had to be between 1,000 and 2,000 elk visible throughout the viewing area. Cathy found a coyote walking across another snow-covered frozen pond on the east side of the river, west of Hellroaring Creek. While we watched, it sauntered over to three other coyotes all laying down next to each other on the ice near shore. Pretty soon, we had four dozing coyotes all huddled together in a sort of wild "dog pile". We knew the Rose Creek wolves have been frequenting this area, so we kept searching for them or a sign of their passing. I noticed a raven flying that looked like a scavenger on a mission. It paid off, as he/she lead me to the site of a fairly recent kill (maybe two days old). There were a number of ravens feasting on the remains of a bull elk. We surmised that the coyotes had been on the carcass earlier and were likely suffering from a case of "elk poisoning", similar to that experienced regularly by their canid cousins, the wolves. Once the disorder makes its presence known, the only cure is a good long nap. While at the overlook, we were visited by numerous other visitors, who would pull in, ask us if we had seen the wolves, and almost act annoyed when we told them, "No, but we've been watching a wolf kill, coyotes, ravens, bison, and numerous herds of elk".

We drove on to Tower Junction, where we stopped for a bit to get shots of the incredible hoar frost crystals. The lighting was great, nice and low angled, with a brilliant blue sky again. It was 2:40 PM when we continued toward Lamar Valley. We saw one coyote standing on the frozen pond by the Specimen Ridge trailhead, with two compadres standing off to the side in the sage. These were our fifth, sixth, and seventh coyotes of the day. The first coyote started howling, all the while looking in the general direction of the Yellowstone River Picnic Area. We got some videotape of the howling, which came out better than we expected. We continued on through Lamar Valley all the way to the Thunderer Cut-Off trailhead past Pebble Creek Campground. We saw coyote number 8 near the confluence of the Lamar River and Soda Butte Creek. Other than that, it was just the occasional herd of bison and elk the whole way. On the return from our turnaround, we stopped at the Lamar River trailhead. We set up the scopes and took a look around. I spotted coyotes #9 and #10 to the north, out in the meadow east of Soda Butte, near the base of Mt. Norris. They were both mousing, so I figured there were no carcasses nearby. We saw our 11th coyote of the day after rounding the bend, just past the confluence. We pulled into one of the pulloffs about a mile east of the Buffalo Ranch. It was getting late and getting cold, but there were several cars pulled off, and people with binoculars and scopes. The sun was already down behind Amethyst Mtn. One couple from Oregon had seen 8 wolves around 11:00 AM, moving from right to left, moving upriver. We figured, "The Druids". As a group, we all decided to be back out there early on New Years Eve. Cathy and I stopped at the Buffalo Ranch. The place looked like a ghost town. There was no sign of life in the Institute buildings, no vehicles other than one of the vans that doesn't get used much in winter. Even the ranger's quarters looked deserted. It appeared we had the place to ourselves. There was a magnificent sunset in the making, as the sun was descending behind Specimen Ridge. There was just the right mix of a few lenticular clouds for the sun to project orange, then pink, then rosy red hues onto them. The blue sky turned gradually more and more orange as one looked from overhead toward the big event. This may seem strange, but it was almost melancholy, watching such a gorgeous sunset by ourselves, with no other beings nearby. Even a coyote or two would have made a difference. I can honestly say that at that moment, I thought of all my friends from the chat page and how much they would appreciate this marvelous moment. Then I thought about the rangers that live there. "They get to see this stuff all the time." Maybe there is something to that old saying about NPS personnel being paid in "sunsets".

We stopped briefly at Slough Creek on the way back, but all was quiet. We got back to Tower Jct. at 5:26 PM, just in time to see coyotes #12 and 13 heading toward the ranger station across the meadow. (There has got to be some kind of coyote rendezvous somewhere nearby.) This particular evening, there were elk on the move everywhere. We had elk on the road, right in front of the car on three different occasions between Tower and Mammoth. Coming down the steep hill between Undine Falls and the bridge over the Gardner River we had several cow elk appear in the road as we rounded a bend. Thankfully, one moved off the road as I was braking on the hardpack. If it hadn't, we would have had a new hood ornament, because I couldn't brake any harder without losing control. With all the unusual elk activity, we hypothesized that there was weather on the way, probably preceded by a falling barometer, which the critters can always sense. Given the slim pickings in Gardiner, we opted to eat in the Mammoth Hotel Dining Room again. Afterward, we called one of our friends in Gardiner to see if she would be able to join us on New Years Eve, but she had just returned from a long trip to the east coast and wanted to stay in Gardiner. She did want to go out skiing or snowshoeing on the weekend with us, so we made arrangements to get together Saturday morning.

This ends Part I of this trip report. Part II will contain the second half of the trip, which includes wolf sightings, more coyotes, the birth of the Millennium, mountain lions, RETURN OF THE WOLF, and fireworks.

Ballpark

Millennium Trip Report - Part II

I'm posting this thing now, more than anything, to keep the Mrs. from bugging me about it. (I told her she gets to do the next one.)

Before you start into this ramble, you might want to take a bathroom break and get some of your favorite beverage. I apologize for the length. Its more than twice as long as Part I. (I never was good at division.)

MILLENNIUM TRIP REPORT - Part II

FRIDAY, 12/31/99

We had the alarm set for 4:30 AM, but got up at 4:14 AM, since we were both awake. We turned on the TV to check on ABC's marathon coverage of the dawning of the new age around the world. Their broadcast started at 2:30 AM, MST. They were talking about the navy submarine that had parked on the International Date Line with the aid of the military's super-accurate GPS. The crew in the bow were celebrating New Year's Day, while those in the stern still had almost 24 hours to wait (theoretically). We watched videotape of the celebration in Auckland, and then Sydney. We left the hotel at 6:30 AM. It was still dark.

We saw our first coyote of the day just inside the Park entrance. It was 7:30 AM, when we reached the Lamar River trailhead. Bob Landis was already there, sitting in his car, reading the newspaper. A few minutes later, he left, heading back toward Slough Creek. We got out of the car and set up the scopes. Cathy spotted several of the Druid Peak wolves directly east, on the lower hillside of Mt. Norris, heading north, in and out of the trees. By the time Frank got his scope pointed in the right direction, he was just in time to see coyote #2 for the day, but no wolves. After waiting for a while, we continued on toward the Trout Lake trailhead, our customary turnaround point this time of year. Halfway between the Lamar River T.H. and Soda Butte, we spotted a cow moose out to the east, in the snow-laden meadow. The same small herd of bison that was out there every day was right behind her. There was also a bull elk in the vicinity. In spite of the incredible cold, we decided that this was too great a photo opp to be denied. Out came the 500 mm lens and all the accoutrements. Unfortunately, the time it took to get set up enabled the bull elk to start moving back toward the trees, making it impossible to get a "three species of ungulate" shot with the big lens. I had the 1.4X converter on, so it was the equivalent of 14 power magnification (at f5.6). At that point, I found myself wishing I had the 300 set up, but it was too late. Meanwhile, Cathy was getting videotape of the whole affair. I did manage to get a few shots of the cow elk with the bison, but was feeling kind of ripped off. As almost always happens in these situations, something went wrong with the equipment. The camera body I was shooting got so cold, the film advance wouldn't work. I had one body already down, destined for the shop due to meter problems. The third was loaded with slow film that I didn't want to use on these subjects. I was out of commission, but no matter. The cow moose was starting to wander back toward the cover of the trees. Just as the moose was nearing the timber, coyote #3 appeared and spooked her. We returned to the Lamar River trailhead for some more searching, but no success. We decided it was way too quiet. Hardly anybody else was down that end of the valley. We better head back the other way. As we neared the confluence of the Lamar River and Soda Butte Creek, we saw two more coyotes (#'s 4 & 5).

It was quiet throughout Lamar Valley. When we entered the narrow canyon between the valley and the Slough Creek area, we noticed a vehicle up ahead going real slow through a particular area. We couldn't see anything they might be watching. When we got to the closed entrance road to Slough Creek Campground, Bob Landis was out of his car with his equipment. He was walking back from the direction of the campground. The three of us conversed about the wolves. He told us the Druids had made a kill during the night or real early that morning out near where the Lamar River Trail makes the almost 90 degree bend to head toward Cache Creek. We figured the wolves Cathy saw were leaving the area to go sleep off the feast up in the trees somewhere. (Do you ever wonder what the transplanted wolves think about being airlifted from Canada to Yellowstone? Is it similar to what we would experience if somebody kidnapped us and took us to a restaurant show in a convention center, then just turned us loose in their?) We mentioned the commotion in the canyon, having seen a vehicle almost parked in the narrows. Bob said, "Oh, there's a road-killed moose carcass right near the road and its attracting coyotes." Rick McIntyre drove up. He and Bob compared notes. Rick said he was getting strong radio telemetry signals from the radio collars of the main group of the Rose Creek pack. Apparently, the pack has split into two groups recently, but the larger of the two was somewhere out toward Slough Creek proper in the direction of Tower from where we were. We told Bob about seeing the recently killed bull elk in the Hellroaring country the day before. He wanted our best description of the location, then told us it was probably a Rose Creek pack kill. Rick was going to head up to the top of the little hill everybody stands on in winter to get a better view of the area where wolves are often seen. We asked him if he would mind if we went with him. He said, "No, not at all." While he was heading out there, we continued our conversation with Bob Landis. We told him that lots of people on the chat page were asking when they would be able to see RETURN OF THE WOLF. Bob told us the whole story about how NBC had canceled a bunch of their 2000 nature specials, so National Geographic was out looking for some other network to buy it for a cool million. He said the BBC and other networks in other parts of the world had purchased the rights to air it, but at this point, it was uncertain when it would air in the U.S. Bob asked us to share the news with those on the chat page. He also asked us if we would like to see the film. We jumped at the opportunity. He said, "Come on over to my place tomorrow night around 6:30 PM." We peppered Bob with questions about what he is working on now. It sounds like he is one element of a large, multi-element, worldwide effort to put together a series on nature. I should have written down the name of this project. It is being driven by somebody big, like one of the major networks or production companies. It has a catchy one word title as I remember it. Bob said he was going to head back to the Lamar River trailhead to see if there was any further activity from the Druids. Cathy and I went up the hill and joined Rick.

Rick told us where the radio-collar signals were coming from. It was an area of small rounded knobs with ravines among them, just up from the creek. With all three of us on scopes, we still could not spot any wolves. We surmised they might be laying down in one of the low spots. At one point, Rick asked us if we saw the coyote. We said, "No". We were looking harder and harder, but still no coyote. Suddenly, he saw a second one. We still said we could not see them. Finally, in frustration, we all looked up from our scopes. Rick pointed to an area a mere 100 yards or so away, just on the far side of the Slough Creek road. There were three coyotes now, approaching an old elk carcass that had been killed several days earlier. We had been looking a good 1/4 to 1/2 mile beyond where the coyotes were. This made 8 coyotes so far, and it wasn't even noon yet. We watched them for a while. Then a lone skier came through, went down by the river, and crossed it. His presence scattered the coyotes. We thought it might spook the wolves into visibility, but no such luck. Cathy spotted coyote #9 off to the right, way out to the west near the river. I spotted a second old kill with coyote #10 on it a good mile away, toward Tower. Rick said it was a kill made on Christmas day. I started thinking: "It has been so cold that there are hoar frost crystals formed everywhere. These carcasses must freeze fairly soon after the animal dies. How do these scavengers deal with what must be rock hard frozen meat?" I should have asked Rick, but I forgot. Rick left around 11:45 AM, hoping to get a better angle from the road down toward Little America. Cathy headed down at noon, wanting to turn on the car and warm up. Being stubborn, and wanting to find coyotes 6, 7, and 8 again, I stayed on the hill until 12:30 PM.

We decided to do an about face and head back to the Lamar Valley. As we proceeded through the canyon, about 2/3 to 3/4 of the way through, we saw the spot where the alleged road-killed moose was. The roadway fell away on the side opposite the river, down a good 5 or 6 feet, maybe more, steeply. You could not see the carcass, but as we drove by slowly, you could not miss the three coyotes (#'s 11, 12, & 13) feeding on it. They looked up at us. One had a rather red muzzle. Another had one eye that kind of looked screwed up. We stopped at the Buffalo Ranch and ate lunch. Afterwards, we continued on to the Lamar River T.H. We looked toward where Bob and Rick had said the recent wolf-kill was. In winter, this is not rocket science. You scan across a broad expanse of pure white snow. When you get to a thin line of aspen and conifers with more snowy meadows behind them, you suddenly see lots of ravens and magpies flying around. As you zoom in, you start to notice the eagles in the trees and occasionally on the ground. In this case, we could see two bald eagles and four golden eagles. Every once in a while one of them would fly down into a gully. Immediately, you would see a flurry of ravens and magpies fleeing the scene. This was repeated again and again. We could not see the actual carcass. It was hidden by a landform. We reasoned that if we went back toward the confluence, we might get a better angle to see into the gully. We had seen a fellow with local plates pulled off at the main parking area near the confluence that morning. Sure enough, you could get a much better view of the area, but you could still not discern the carcass. At one point, we spotted two coyotes (#'s 14 & 15) heading toward the kill site from down near the Lamar River, going right to left. Eventually, they disappeared into the same gully all the other scavengers were congregating in. About 15 minutes later, we saw one of the coyotes walking back in the direction they had come with something rather large hanging out of its mouth. Honest to God, at that range, it looked something like a giant leg of lamb, but I'm not sure what it was. We had to be at least a mile, maybe further from those coyotes.

Once again, we decided to head back to Slough Creek. The forecast called for 1-2 inches of new snow today and another 2-3 inches on Saturday. It was starting to snow. As we drove past the carcass in the canyon, we noticed two fellows with radio telemetry gear walking down the road. We continued on to the Slough Creek road. It struck us that something funny was going on. Why would wildlife researchers by hanging around a road kill? Thinking the carcass was a moose, I drove back by there. The two researchers had reached the carcass and were examining it. I pulled up, rolled down the window and thinking I would say something funny, asked them if they had seen my moose. I told them I had lost it in the snowstorm. They gave me a funny look. We drove down to the pulloff where their truck was parked. From there (the first major pulloff in the canyon if you enter from the Lamar Valley side. Its on the river side of the road.) you could see down the river past where the supposed road-killed moose was. There were tracks all over the place. There were also 4 coyotes down there. By this time, we were done counting coyotes. We already had 15 before we got back to the canyon. We knew we had more, but how many. We couldn't count these four without risking double counting the three we had seen on the carcass. We just stopped worrying about it. Besides, the researchers were walking back to the truck and we were full of questions. The first thing they told us was that it was not a moose. It was a cow elk. It had been killed by a female mountain lion that lived on the hillside across the river. She was radio-collared, as were two of her three kittens of the year. They could receive the radio-collar signals as we were standing there. They told us they were about 100 yards away from us, somewhere on that tree-covered hillside. We were about to pop with excitement. The researchers were both University of Montana grads. Mike was the mountain lion researcher, doing work previously done by Kerry Murphy, who we had met 2 years ago at a Yellowstone Association membership outing. Kerry is now part of the wolf research team. Mike's buddy was visiting from Medford, Oregon, where he works for the BLM. They told us they had walked up the hillside and found the tracks of the four cats alongside the tracks of the elk. At one point, the tracks of the mother disappeared, which is where they figured she jumped the elk. They grabbed some tools and headed back to the carcass. Meanwhile, Bob Landis happened by and set up his equipment, just in case mom and the kids decided to come down off the hill to get a snack. The snow-covered river would be the perfect backdrop for some nice tawny mountain lions. I was trying to get a candid shot of the best example of submissive coyote behavior I have ever seen, by one of the four coyotes walking around down below us. As usual, I was a dime late and a dollar short. Bob was surprised to find out it was an elk, and not a roadkill. I figure somebody else had told him the story about how it was a roadkilled moose. Slowly, the crowd built. Naturally, anybody coming by would see the vehicles and stop. Bill Wise, one of the naturalists working the Albright Visitor Center came by. He was showing his sister from back east some of the winter wonders of Yellowstone. Our friends from Oregon, we had met the day before, stopped. We filled each other in on what we had been doing and seeing all day. It turned out they spent most of the day watching the Druid Peak pack. The snow kept intensifying. Bob Landis would look through his camera, then look at his watch, then look down the valley, trying to gauge how much longer he would have enough light to shoot. He figured by 4:30 PM he would have to wrap it up. Mike and his partner returned to the truck with some elk parts. He showed me the lower jaw bone (one side). The teeth were wore down substantially. Mike told me that this cow elk was very old. With her teeth that shot there was some question as to how much longer she would have been able to survive, even without predation. 4:30 PM rolled around and Bob packed up and headed back to Gardiner. By then, the crowd had dissipated. We had mentioned to the researchers that we planned on being back out in the valley that evening to ring in the new millennium. Just before we left, Mike said: "Keep your eyes open for those lions tonight. I'm sure they are laying low on that hillside, with all the commotion down here. Once it gets dark, they will probably come down to feed." At 4:45 PM, we left. The snow was falling harder than ever. By the time we got to Tower Jct., the snow was dissipating and there was little sign of new snowfall on the ground. We gassed up in Gardiner, just to play it safe in case this Y2K bug hit the gas station. We got back to the hotel around 6:00 PM, so we could shower, watch the end of the Liberty Bowl, and get ready for our 8:15 PM dinner at Mammoth. We checked in with ABC, just to make sure the world wasn't heading into the jaws of destruction. We got to see the French try to blow up the Eifel Tower with fireworks. Everything seemed normal.

New Year's Eve (Birth of the New Millennium)

Expecting a large crowd, we hustled up to the dining room at Mammoth. I was a bit nervous, because we were running a few minutes behind. What a waste of adrenaline! There were two tables occupied. One, at the far end of the dining room, held a party of four who had long since finished dinner, and were just gabbing. The other group (party of 2) was seated near the windows. We were seated right next to them at the next table. There was one waiter working; and he was not a regular. He was an MSU student, son of an NPS family, who was subbing for the evening, so the regular Amfac employees could party. There was a big gig going on in the employee rec hall in back of the hotel. You could hear the music when you walked outside. You could see people coming and going, wearing party hats. It was one of the most surrealistic pictures of humankind I have seen in that Park. It felt real strange, leaving the hotel around 9:45 PM, seeing and hearing this big gala, knowing we were wearing probably twice or more the layers of clothing as these revelers, and we were heading to one of the most remote places you can get to by automobile in winter. It would be the other end of the spectrum out there in nature. Those bison, coyotes, eagles, elk, mountain lions, and wolves wouldn't have a clue that a bunch of bipeds were hooting and hollering in Mammoth about something a whole lot less serious than life and death. Given a choice between the manufactured suspense of humans and the day to day drama of nature I would have to choose reality. Its not that we were not excited. Heck, we were going to see RETURN OF THE WOLF at Bob's house Saturday night and tonight we had a realistic chance of seeing our first mountain lions in the wild. It was starting to look like one great New Years!

It was snowing lightly, off and on, as we headed east toward our rendezvous with a world that didn't know about New Years and didn't care. We are used to seeing oncoming traffic periodically on the Park's roads, but this evening there would be precious little. We noticed a vehicle parked at the dirt road that goes toward Mary Meagher's cabin, probably some NPS people spending the night there to ring in the new year. As we approached Little America, we could see headlights off in the distance, glowing in the falling snow. Now there was several inches of fresh powder covering the road. The only tracks were the ones we were leaving. As we approached the Slough Creek turnoff, we could see the taillights of the vehicle observed earlier heading toward Lamar Valley, away from us. You could see the tracks of a 4x4 or pickup that had come from the east, pulled into the parking area, and reversed direction, heading back toward where it had come from. We made the assumption that it was Lamar Patrol, one of the rangers from the Buffalo Ranch out checking up on things. At the turnoff were four or five vehicles we had noticed when we were heading back in the afternoon. Apparently, there was a good size group of people skiing in to one of the cabins to spend the night.
As we drove through the canyon, we went slowly past the area where the elk carcass was. Sure enough, we could see two fleeting figures bound up onto the road and start running down the road away from us. I thought they were coyotes, but Cathy knew better. She noticed the obvious difference in the tails and other little morphological details. After a short run down the road, they scrambled over the plowed up snow and disappeared from view, heading down to the river and safety on the other side. We decided they must be kittens, since they were about the size of coyotes. Since we were seeing them from behind, at a distance, going away from us, we could not tell if they had radio-collars. This really got us pumped up, but we had to press on if we were to fulfill our plans for the evening. As we proceeded east through the western portion of Lamar Valley, a smallish light colored sedan went by, going the opposite direction. We watched the tracks all the way to the Buffalo Ranch. The vehicle had entered the road there. Perhaps it was one of the ranger's friends stopping by to celebrate New Years. Both cabins were lit up quite brightly. On the way back, later on, we would trace those tracks to where they turned off the road at the Tower Ranger Station. Meanwhile, the tracks we had been following continued east right past the Buffalo Ranch. We started thinking that maybe this was not a ranger vehicle. As we passed the Lamar River trailhead parking area, we noticed the vehicle we had been following pulled off. It was a dark green SUV with a ski rack. It was to be the only apparent non-NPS vehicle we would see that evening. We continued on to the Trout Lake trailhead.

We arrived at 11:00 PM. It was time to start rolling tape. The plan was to videotape our own amateur version of what ABC was doing, only instead of taking 28 or 29 hours to cover all 24 time zones, we were going to spend an hour or two covering four or five pulloffs in northern Yellowstone. The snow was coming down hard. It had already dropped 4 or 5 inches since mid-afternoon. The first tape session went relatively well. Our headlights and the light on the camera were the only visible light in the vicinity; and that light didn't go very far with the thick curtain of falling snow. As Cathy filmed, I talked about what the plan was for the evening, recalled some memorable events that had taken place at Trout Lake years before, place them in the context of our life, and we moved on to the Lamar River T.H. This time it was Cathy's turn. She mentioned the critters we have seen from that area, both this trip and others over the years. We listened for coyote or wolf howling, but this was to be an exceptionally quiet night. Our next stop was to be the largest of the pulloffs on the raised area, west of the Buffalo Ranch, but the dark green SUV was there. Apparently, at least one other addled mind had concocted a plan similar to ours. We proceeded past them to the next pulloff, where I addressed the camera on a number of items, including wolf reintroduction and the study being conducted by the University of Montana on the wolf-watching phenomenon. Now we were getting nervous. While we were getting ready to film, the green 4x4 drove by, heading west. Would this vehicle scare any mountain lions off the carcass, so we would not have another chance to see them?
We held our breath, and slowly released it as the SUV pulled into the last major parking area before the canyon. There was no time to waste. We expedited everything. It was almost 11:45 PM and we had to be pulled off at the Slough Creek parking area by 11:50 PM to do what we had planned. We motored toward the canyon. I had to make a conscious effort to slow down as we approached the elk carcass. Cathy was going to try and videotape any cats we might see. As we neared the carcass, I could see two green eyes glowing in the glare of the headlights. I yelled to Cathy, "I've got two green, glowing eyes on the carcass." As she was trying to get the camera working, the female mountain lion jumped up onto the road and quickly sauntered across, casually leaped the snowbank, and vanished. I will never forget that feline vision that filled my gaze. She was broadside to us. The black radio-collar stood out against all that tawny yellowish orange fur. She was smaller than I expected, maybe not much bigger than a large dog, but longer. This may be the height of anthropomorphism, but I swear she looked just like a short-haired house cat, only a lot bigger. Cathy was all at once excited about seeing such a great view of the mother and depressed about not getting the shot on videotape. It seems she was just swinging the camera down into position when the cat ran across the road. It could have been one of those split second choices, where you can either see the cat or commit everything to getting the shot. What would you have done? We were not sure if there was a chance that Cathy had captured some snippet of lion film, but she was reasonably certain that we had zero. That turned out to be the case.

We arrived at the Slough Creek turnoff at 11:51 PM. We did our last exterior video shot, with Cathy narrating. She talked about having spent time with Bob Landis and Rick McIntyre earlier in the day. She mentioned how prolific a place that area is for producing bears and wolves for the viewing. Then it was time to get ready for the big event. (as if the mountain lion sightings were small potatoes) The plan was to videotape the last minute ticking away via the digital clock on an old laptop we had brought along just for the occasion. It came off just as planned. We captured the birth of the new millennium on videotape in the comfort of our car, did a celebratory kiss, and headed back to the canyon for one last attempt to get video images of mountain lions. Cathy had tape rolling as we approached. There was nothing to tape. We turned around and made one last run, all for naught.
If we were destined to videotape mountain lions, it would be some other time and probably some other lions. We headed back toward Mammoth. The entire time we were running around outside we never heard anything; and we would turn the engine off at each stop. We reached Mammoth about 12:50 AM, just in time to see a large fireworks shell go off in the sky to the north. The town of Gardiner was still shooting off fireworks from the Jardine Road, above the town. We were down near the Park entrance by 1:00 AM. The fireworks were still going off, so we pulled into what is the first large pulloff after you enter the Park. There were 4 or 5 other cars parked there. After two or three more shells, the show was over. We zipped back to the hotel and were in bed by 1:30 AM.

SATURDAY, 1/1/00

Once we were up and moving about, we called our friend, Carolyn. She had been watching the fireworks until after 1:00 AM and was in a similar state of unpreparedness. Carolyn needed more time to get ready, and so did we. It was a little after 11:00 AM when we headed into the Park. Despite the weather forecast, we had to wear sunglasses, the sun was so bright, reflecting off the surrounding snow. We thought, "If this is what dumps 2-3 inches of snow, bring on a blizzard." As we negotiated the narrow part of the Gardner River canyon, we spotted a small herd of bighorn on the ridge to our right, opposite the hill where we were accustomed to seeing them. Although the sky was that deep "Yellowstone blue", the roads east of Mammoth were treacherous. The temperatures had not warmed to where any melting was going on. Ironically, later that day, returning to Gardiner, virtually any roadway exposed to considerable sun would be clear and dry. Just beyond Floating Island Lake, after the road curves back to the south, we encountered a mini-van off the road on the westbound side. It was just uphill from Elk Creek (where we always see moose in the summer). A ranger was present, and he and the driver of the van were awaiting the arrival of a wrecker enroute from the direction of Cooke City. We continued east. As we passed the elk carcass in the canyon beyond Slough Creek we noticed a total lack of scavenger activity. No coyotes, no mountain lions, not even ravens. Just beyond the first set of pulloffs in Lamar Valley, we came upon an SUV that had gone off the road on the river side. It was well-stuck, having gone a good 25 or 30 feet at an angle that left it 10-12 feet away from the pavement. The snow in there must have been 18 inches deep or more. We stopped to see if we could help. Afterall, we had two cell phones with us. We could call for a tow truck and a pizza simultaneously. The vehicle had local Montana plates. The driver was outside, soaking up the mid-day sunshine and enjoying the view. He said everything was okay. He had been heading east, when another vehicle that had lost it on the ice forced him off the road. We could tell from the tracks that somehow he had made 5 to 10 feet of progress back toward the road. As he told it, another 4x4 had come along and offered to try and pull him out. They had made some progress, when a tow truck came by from the direction of Cooke City. It was heading toward the incident at Elk Creek. Apparently, the tow truck driver made a big stink about how they were blocking the road and preventing him from extracting the mini-van west of Tower. The SUV owner said the tow truck was going to come back when its first mission was accomplished. He figured the irate operator was more concerned with preserving his potential additional income than anything when he ran off the rescuer. We asked the SUV owner if there was anything we could do for him. With the equanimity in adversity I've become accustomed to from Montanans, he said, "Appreciate it, but everything's okay here. I'm just waiting for that wrecker to return. Heck, I ran the engine for a while to stay warm, but its so nice outside, I decided to get out of the vehicle while I wait." Can you think of a better place to be stuck in snow than up on a high portion of the road through Lamar Valley at mid-day in the winter, with clear skies, no wind, and bison, coyotes, elk, and ravens to keep you company?

We drove all the way to the usual Trout Lake T.H. turnaround, just in case any of the Druid Peak pack was about. Of course, Carolyn, who had been back east for a month and a half, had to listen to our ravings about all the wildlife activity of the previous day. With the wildlife situation being overly quiet, we opted to snowshoe from the Lamar River trailhead up to the den site to the west. This time of year there is no closure, no denning activity yet, so we did not have to worry about invading the Druid's space. As we cleared the first set of small, rounded bumps in the hillside, we could see the area where the pond sits below the den site. Right where our route would take us, just south of the pond, a large bison had taken up residence. He was laying there, soaking up some rays. We decided on a circuitous route, designed to avoid any unwelcome interaction with the behemoth. This fellow was all by himself. Experience tells us that those old bachelor bulls have the worst dispositions of any bison. That's why they are alone. Even other bison won't have anything to do with them. They are Mother Nature's "grouchy old men". Carolyn was the closest thing to a resident bison expert. She has written about them and taught classes at the Yellowstone Institute on bison. She is one of their staunchest allies in the fight to stop the Montana Department of Livestock from slaughtering the majestic beasts. Funny thing, with all her knowledge of bison, it was Carolyn who seemed most concerned with steering a wide course around this character. This was not lost on Cathy and I. We eventually arrived in the vicinity of the den site. It was one of those "Yellowstone moments", with a view exceeding 180 degrees. Looking south, you had the great expanse of meadow where thousands have watched the Druid Peak wolves romp. Rising above, was the bulk of Amethyst Mountain. Its north-facing steep-sided slope was enjoying the deep winter sleep of no sun. Somewhere over there, bears were nestled in their dens, dreaming of the days to come this spring and the welcomed arrival of bison and elk calving season. Panning from right to left, the view encompassed an even greater expanse of snow where Lamar Valley stretches east toward the Absarokas. Where the valley meets the shoulder of Mt. Norris was whatever remained of the elk brought down by the Druids on Friday morning. It looked kind of quiet. Continuing to the left, our gaze swept the west face of Mt. Norris. Oh, what a classic Rocky Mountain kind of hill, with its broadly sloping flanks, except for that sheer cutoff west side, likely sculpted by a glacier that advanced where Soda Butte Creek flows today. The bighorn just love to lie along the top of those ice-chiseled cliffs. We did not know at the time that the Druid Peak bunch were over there, but the next morning would bring potent evidence. Moving further left, the bulk of the Thunderer dominates your vision. Oh, we have heard more than once the mighty reverberations that fill the valley during summer storms that gave the mountain its name! How many times have we watched grizzly sows with cubs moving about on its high flanks? Some of those steeper areas where we have seen bears are as deadly as the third rail in a New York subway today. There is a fresh load of powder on top of an old layer of granular snow. The conditions are ripe for avalanches. Those natural bulldozers help insure that future generations of grizzlies will have open areas amongst the surrounding timber to soak up the late day summer sun. To the left of the Thunderer the view moves from grand to awesome. The alpine spires of Abiathar Peak, Amphitheater Mountain, Sunset Peak, and Wolverine Peak take your breath away. There is just enough low clouds residual from yesterday's storm to cloak them in mystery. It gives an appearance more reminiscent of the Alps as I remember them than anywhere else I have been. It brings back memories of skiing the Zugspitze above Garmisch and seeing 40 or 50 or more hound and sharks-toothed peaks rising above the valley fog. There is no way a camera can do them justice. We feebly take out our cameras and have a go at it anyway. It is warm here, so close to the place where several new generations of wolves were born, some of the first in Yellowstone in several human generations. The sun, even in the depths of winter, penetrates this place most of the day, so much so, that we are standing around on bare spots at the base of trees. This is Carolyn's first time on her new snowshoes. She wonders if being on bare ground might harm them the way it would skis. Having completed the survey of our distant surroundings, our attention turned to the immediate area. The bison had kept an eye on us from the time we first appeared to when we reached the vicinity of the den site. He was directly east of us now. Suddenly, he decided to get up. There was some mild anxiety as to what his intentions were. We relaxed as he put his head down and started munching some of the ground vegetation. The small pond was just below us, downhill, to the east. Off to the left, in a northeasterly direction was either a large pond or a small lake. If you are from Minnesota, it was definitely a pond. If you are from Nevada, it was obviously a lake. Above the pond/lake (which actually appears on most maps), to the north, was a ridge with a line of aspen on it. I knew better than to tax my emotions by picturing what this place must be like in the early summer. About the time those pups would be driving the adults crazy trying to keep up with them, those aspen would be shimmering multi-hues of green in the breeze. The ponds would mirror the surrounding hills, perhaps with periodic distortion from the breeze. The intervening meadows would be knee high and growing with a variety of grasses and flowers. Red squirrels would be shrieking at any two or four legged thing with the temerity to invade its space. Certainly a few bison would meander by, being the organic lawn mowers that they are, partaking big mouthfuls of green sustenance. How about early autumn, with the aspen now turning a golden shade? The wolves would be long gone, terrorizing the cow/calf herds up on the back of Specimen Ridge and Amethyst Mountain, or perhaps the higher reaches of the eastern slopes of Mt. Norris and the Thunderer, high above Cache Creek. The meadow grasses would be high and a tan/beige color. The deep bass of the summer's thunderstorms would be replaced by the falsetto of bugling bull elk tuning up for the rut. It seems Mother Nature's orchestra always has a selection to play for us. The key and the instrumentation may change, but there is music for the trained ear. If you hang around the Lamar River trailhead long enough when there's little or no traffic, eventually, your ear will pick up the music played by Soda Butte Creek, but it won't play if you're talking over it. Zooming in even closer, we started inspecting our immediate surroundings. We tried to figure out exactly where the den is. We still are not sure, even after Carolyn discussed it with Rick McIntyre a few days later. All we know is that we were close. We had stopped by a large tree that served as the demarcation between forest and meadow. Each of us examined our third of this coniferous landmark. I think it was a Ponderosa Pine, but I'm not sure. Tree identification beyond conifer and deciduous has always escaped me. Cathy found bison rubbings and some remnants of fur strands. Carolyn discovered antler scrapings, some relatively fresh, some fairly old. For some unknown reason, I looked up, above my head. (My side of the tree was bereft of the treasures my female compatriots were finding.) High enough to tell me I didn't want a close encounter with the critter that created them, I noticed some thin, vertical serrations of the bark. Whoa! Some ursine passerby had chosen this exact spot to mark his territory. My first instinct was to do another intense survey of the immediate surroundings. (I happened upon a recently vacated bear den near Sentinel Meadows back in the winter of 86-87. I figured once was enough.) Thankfully, it was still just the three of us, our bison observer, and a small flock of white-breasted nuthatches. Excitedly, I showed my new found treasure to my comrades. Each of us had to raise our hand to see if we could reach where that grizz had left his/her mark. We could barely get to the base of those deep cuts in the bark. Small seeps of tree sap had flowed from each wound. We now spoke in hushed tones. It had nothing to do with fearing we might wake up some furry sleeping giant. It was more like the feeling of reverence you are overcome with when entering a house of worship. We had only been on the trail for an hour. Could this day get any better?

From the "grizzly tree", we worked our way uphill at an angle, heading north-northwest. We quickly discovered that the snow was relatively shallow right in the margin where the forest met the meadow, so we pretended to be elk. It was hardly difficult. There was evidence of an ample elk population everywhere. The aspen were well-scarred from where pregnant cows had dug their lower incisor teeth deep into the tree trunks, trying to secure the vitamins inherent in the cambium layer for their developing calves. This area, besides being bison and wolf heaven, was obviously elk heaven. It had all the prerequisites, plenty of browse, a good water supply, lots of cover interspersed with meadows. "Now if only some judge in Denver would have gotten rid of those pesky wolves, this place would be perfect", I could hear those elk saying. For years, I have been wondering why the elk persist in frequenting this area, so close to the Druid Peak pack's den. Now, maybe I know. Its like all those people along the Florida coast that keep rebuilding after hurricanes. Its a great place, and once in a while something nasty happens. We decided to sample the view toward the high peaks from the aspen-clad ridge, but first we had to "do lunch". On the western edge of the lower ridge, near where it merged with the bulk of the mountain, there were a few scattered trees, either lodgepole or doug fir. The low winter sun hit this ground on an almost perpendicular angle. We found a number of bare spots, enough to seat a party of three. Initially, lunch was an intense pleasure. Good food, good company, and great surroundings. Eventually, the harsh reality of winter at this latitude expressed itself. We were cooling down and needed to get back on the trail. Fortunately, nature always provides. In this instance, it was a nice steep uphill approach to our ridgeline destination. That got the circulation restarted. There was a blunt east end to the ridgeline. With a near-270 degree view, this was one of those places that bull elk crave late in the summer and early in autumn. They like to survey their surroundings and do it with a sense of regal splendor. Sometimes I think its a kind of "king of the mountain" thing with the bulls. I used to find places like this all over Rocky Mountain National Park, where I would cruise the game trails in search of greater understanding of wapiti. Now, the large pond/small lake was directly south of us. We had almost executed 3/4 of a loop, sort of. Actually, we still had to do another descent and climb to get off this ridge and over another, the one that shields this water body from the prying eyes of humans along the road. First, we drank in the view to the north, where the high peaks looked even more majestic than before. The clouds that hugged their flanks had moved some. The combination of late day sun and foggy mystery gave them an almost surrealistic cast. We did click off a few pictures. I found myself wishing I had one of my big lenses for the purpose of zeroing in on the peaks themselves, to the exclusion of all else. We had to get moving. The sun was about to disappear behind Amethyst Mountain. We followed game tracks whenever we could, just because it was easier for whoever was breaking trail. Down in the valley between the ridges, we came across a relatively fresh snowshoe track that ran straight uphill, east to west. It looked like a fair-sized group had been back here recently. We managed to spot a coyote that had been heading straight toward us, until he saw the homo sapiens invaders, mumbled something in coyote, like, "There goes the neighborhood", and made a detour around us. I thought seeing those mountain lions cured me temporarily of counting coyotes, but I found myself silently thinking, "There's number 1". We reached the car at 4:30 PM. We stopped at the Buffalo Ranch. It looked a bit more "occupied". There were lights on in the Institute cabin and several cars from out of town in the parking lot. Carolyn said she thought there was a Wilderness First Responder course starting tomorrow. Last year's students got to assist in the search and rescue operations above Cooke City, where some snowmobilers got caught in an avalanche. We dropped Carolyn off at her place and raced back to our room. It was after 6:00 PM and we were supposed to meet Bob Landis at 6:30 PM.

We were "fashionably late", arriving at Bob's a little after 6:35 PM. Meredith Taylor, the Greater Yellowstone Coalition Wyoming field rep, was there, along with her husband, Tory. They had come over to Yellowstone the "long way", just to celebrate New Years in the place they love. They operate a small backcountry outfitting service out of Dubois. I recognized Meredith from the GYC newsletters and previous annual meetings I had attended. They run a small string of pack stock (about 15 critters) on a 40 acre spread. They also guide hunters in the fall, in the Absarokas and the Wind Rivers, the kind of hunters that don't use helicopters to get their trophies. Meredith and Tory are very active in trying to address issues critical to the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem, including uncontrolled growth, salt-baiting by fellow outfitters south of Yellowstone, and wolf reintroduction. You can imagine how popular these visionary people are with some of their peers and neighbors. I find them invigorating to be around. They do really long, hard backcountry trips, including some without their critters. They had spent the previous night in a tent at the Mammoth campground. They had the whole place to themselves. Tory said it got so warm in the tent they had to open the door. The only difficulty they experienced was being awakened in the middle of the night by the fireworks and New Years revelry going on around them. Meredith had picked up some pizzas and was preparing them in Bob's oven. While waiting for dinner, the five of us got into all sorts of lively conversations about Yellowstone experiences and threats to the resource. It was very interesting to hear of their experiences, being "in the trenches" as they are.

After dinner, we adjourned to Bob Landis' living room for a private screening of RETURN OF THE WOLF. We had seen a small part of it a year and a half ago at a Yellowstone Association gig, but seeing the finished product with narration, music, etc. was amazing. The film centers on the Druid Peak pack, although it addresses the Yellowstone wolf reintroduction in general, as well. Much is made of the relationship between the Alpha female in the Druid Peak pack, Wolf #40, and her sister, a Beta female, Wolf #42. There are some anthropomorphic references to #42 being the "Cinderella", a hard-working wolf, who gets no credit for her effort, and suffers mightily at the hands of her domineering sister. Eventually, #42 gets kicked out of the pack, although we find out from Bob that she was re-admitted later on. It sounds like a classic "on again, off again" type relationship. We started wrapping things up shortly after 9:00 PM. Bob didn't get all that great wolf footage by staying up late carousing with friends. Efforts continue behind the scenes to enable Loons to see this wonderful film in Yellowstone this May/June. We got back to our room around 9:30 PM, just in time to catch the last quarter of the Orange Bowl.

SUNDAY, 1/2/00

We didn't get out of the motel until 9:45 AM on Sunday. Next up was the culinary event of the trip, grazing the Sunday buffet at Mammoth Hot Springs. If you haven't fed at this trough, you are missing something. Its one of those all-you-can-eat jobs, which are deadly to diets. Amfac does a very good job on this spread. I won't go into details, but suffice to say, this is an event you will not go away hungry from. Afterwards, we went over to the Albright Visitor Center to check out a few things and report the mountain lion sightings. This was no formal exercise, since Bill Wise was behind the desk. He was out there Friday and knew about what was going on with the elk kill in the canyon. We found out he knew my youngest brother, who worked for Madison Patrol back in the summer of 1997. We left Mammoth around 11:45 AM for one last, quick trip out to the Lamar. We were hoping to be leaving the Park by 3:00 or 3:30 PM.

We pressed on toward the Lamar Valley, anxious for one last chance to see wolves. We were not disappointed. After making the customary stop at the Lamar River trailhead, we continued northeast. Halfway between the trailhead and Soda Butte, Cathy spotted a wolf half walking/half sliding down a steep little hillside just above the valley floor to the east at the base of Mt. Norris. We parked at Soda Butte, since it was the closest place to get the car off the road. The wolf was slowly making its way across the valley, stopping periodically, studying the terrain, checking for trouble. We spotted a coyote sauntering along the edge of Soda Butte Creek, just south of us, heading north toward us. It seemed totally oblivious to the wolf's presence on the far side of the valley. Next, we spotted a group of ravens, magpies, and eagles in the direction the coyote had come from. This time the bald eagles and golden eagles had equal numbers, apparently. We could see two of each. We could not see what they were all feeding on from where we were. Eventually, the lone wolf, which looked remarkably like #42 reached the kill site. She fed for a relatively brief period, certainly not more than 5 minutes, if that, then did an about face and went back the way she had come. We had the big lens and the video camera going. Even at the equivalent of 14x, she was a fairly small image. We moved down to the Lamar River T.H. to see if we could get a better angle on the kill. That worked. From there, you could see two golden eagles and some ravens on the carcass. You could tell it was a bull elk. Once again, one beam of antlers was pointed toward the sky. I had seen a herd of 8 or 9 bulls out here back on Wednesday or Thursday. I remember examining their racks with my scope. Each one was a symmetrical six point. They looked like the "Stepford Elk" (clones, more or less). On Friday morning, we saw just one bull, the one with the small herd of bison and the cow moose. On Saturday, we saw him out there again, all by himself. Well, he wasn't alone anymore. He had lots of company now. We are almost certain the lone wolf was #42 for the following reasons:

1.) She was alone.

2.) She was a she.

3.) This was Druid Peak territory.

4.) She had the distinct color of #42, dark above on her back, shoulders, and head; and silver gray down lower, like her stomach and legs.

We were pumped. This was one of our best looks at a wolf yet. Several other vehicles had pulled over at Soda Butte. The visitors were intensely interested in the wolf. They were well-behaved. We let them look through our scopes. They were excited about the opportunity to see a wolf. They seemed fairly knowledgeable, and did not engage in some of the bizarre behavior you see occasionally, like leaving their car in the middle of the road or honking their horn, trying to get animals to raise their heads. They did not last long outside in that weather, however. After 5 or 10 minutes, they were back in their vehicles and heading down the road. After spending some time watching the eagles and ravens on the carcass from the Lamar River trailhead and looking for the rest of the Druids, we decided we better start moseying west.

Enroute to Mammoth, we made the obligatory stop at the Hellroaring Overlook. Things had changed little since earlier in the week. The elk were still abundant, spread all over the hillsides. There were still separate bull herds, as well as a good size group of bison. The activity at the bull elk kill had ceased.

Even on that Sunday, we managed to get our daily minimum of ten coyote sightings. I can't recount all the viewings, because "someone else" was entering the notes in the laptop. Things had changed in the five days we had been in the Park. Old carcasses had been picked clean. New carcasses were drawing a crowd. The coyotes had stopped taking naps on the frozen ponds. There was new snow in the northeast corridor and the skiing had to be great. The crowd, as much as there was one, had already vacated to a great extent. We were probably one of the last groups out of there on Sunday, leaving Mammoth at 3:35 PM. The drive back started out uneventful. We ran into crummy weather somewhere west of Deer Lodge. We were talking on the cell phone with my folks and some of the rest of the family assembled at one of my brother's houses in Colorado. Suddenly, the freeway made a sharp turn to the left over another highway. The curve was icy and I had to exercise lots of caution. Just down the hill and around the next corner was a vehicle that had just spun out and gone off the shoulder backwards. Many other vehicles were having trouble as well. The car off the road appeared to be OK, so we weaved our way through the mayhem and kept going. (In Montana, cellular service is reasonably priced and includes the whole state as one big free-calling area, so most people have one in their car.) The further we went, the worse the roads got. We had been on target for a near record-breaking return trip, but that soon changed. Instead, we did not get home until around 7:50 PM, with jangled nerves from doing the last 75 or 80 miles under less than ideal conditions.

We hope to make it back over there on Presidents Day Weekend for what will be a shorter trip, but hopefully offer as much skiing and/or snowshoeing, or more.

Ballpark & CathyMontana