Wyoming: National Zoos and Road Construction

Wyoming's two major industries, as far as I can tell, are tourism and road construction. We saw a lot of oil derricks too, but based on the price of oil in Wyoming, I suspect most of this gets consumed getting the construction workers to their jobs. I imagine commutes are generally fairly long, since we drove through the entire state and passed through only two towns whose populations are greater than their elevations.

The terrain of Wyoming is like Colorado in reverse. Colorado has a flat and somewhat barren Eastern section, followed by a whole lot of awesome. Wyoming has a flattish and really barren Eastern section, with a large Northwest corner of really awesome. Eastern Wyoming was a lot of fun to drive through - we managed to stay away from I-90, so we got to drive on some more interesting and deserted roads through the barren wasteland. I actually found this to be a welcome break from South Dakota, with its long flat straightaways filled with heavy truck traffic - despite being barren, the land was characterized by rolling hills, which I enjoy.

We stayed for our first night in Jackson with one of Hal's high school friends. We went to a good microbrewery (Snake River) for dinner and got to see some of Jackson's bars. The next day we embarked on a 4-day backpacking trip in Grand Teton National Park, to be described in detail in a future post. We went from there to Yellowstone, a huge park to which we unfairly gave only a day. As a backpacking and mountain enthusiast, I think this was probably the right allocation of time. I'd like to spend more time in Yellowstone some day, but Grand Teton is possibly the coolest place I've ever been.

Both Yellowstone and to a lesser degree Grand Teton are like giant zoos without fences. Our Tetons guidebook told us it is hard to go a day without seeing a moose. We were almost disappointed on day 3, when we saw our first moose. Not only did we see a moose, but it chased us the wrong way down our trail for about a mile or so. We also saw a black bear on day two, across Lake Solitude. Apparently it had gone about 100 feet from us while we were eating our lunch, but decided to wander up the trail without incident. This was reported to us by a couple hiking down from Paintbrush Divide with a view of the whole scene.

The other aspect that these parks are like zoos is in the vernacular sense. When you're within 5 miles of a trailhead, you don't go more than 5 minutes without seeing other hikers. This is why backpacking is nice, because the backcountry is well regulated by the National Park Service to limit overuse. Yellowstone is swarming with people, and parts of it feel like a big tourist trap. On the other hand, you get even more of the benefits of being in a zoo - it's pretty much impossible to avoid really awesome wildlife. There are bison everywhere (really frustrating waiting for them to cross the road) and we saw a grizzly feeding on a bison carcass across the Yellowstone River from us in Hayden Valley. Unfortunately we didn't manage to see any bighorn sheep or wolves; that will have to wait until next trip.

South Dakota: only the strong survive

On the first day of our road trip, Hal and I drove from Chicago to Badlands National Park in South Dakota, taking I-90 all the way. The beginning part of this drive goes through Madison, WI (where we stopped for breakfast) and the scenic rolling hills of Western Wisconsin. Southern Minnesota, east of the Mississippi, flattens out into relatively boring farmland characterized by enormous windmills. The size of these windmills makes me believe in T. Boone Pickens' alternative energy plan. Think big.

After leaving Minnesota for South Dakota, the terrain itself doesn't actually change. It's still totally flat farmland, but the giant windmills are replaced by giant billboards every 50 feet or so. Most of the billboards are advertisements for either the Corn Palace of Mitchell, SD or Wall Drug of Wall, SD, since there isn't a whole lot else to advertise in SD. Many of these signs highlight a curious cultural feature of SD: the proliferation of scare quotes. South Dakotans like to put everything in quotes - my favorite example was a Corn Palace billboard advertising "'Tourist Information.'" Using non-South Dakotan English, there's no logical explanation for these quotes. Are they quoting some famous person who said "tourist information" once? "In the words of the great Thomas Jefferson, stop at the Corn Palace for 'tourist information!'" I don't think that's it. Maybe they are using quotes because they don't actually mean tourist information - maybe it's like "tourist information" - get it? Like, we're selling "tourist information" that you can "smoke." No, that doesn't sound right either - I don't think the Corn Palace was a cover for a marijuana business.

In any case, we survived the Corn Palace - it's very close to I-90 if you follow Google Maps directions, so it's not too much of an inconvenience and it is somewhat interesting (as interesting as a building covered in corn can be). Only bother taking the time if you really need a break, and whatever you do don't follow the signs because they take you on a roundabout tour of the whole town (trust me, there's nothing else worth seeing in Mitchell, SD). After the corn palace, our next stop was the Badlands. Definitely the highlight of South Dakota - you turn a corner in this wide open cornfield land and suddenly you are beset by the barren landscape of the Badlands (pictures to be posted soon). It didn't hurt that we arrived right before sunset.

The next day we woke up for sunrise in the Badlands (about as cool as sunset) and headed toward Mt. Rushmore, stopping along the way at Wall Drug. After seeing hundreds of miles of hype, I actually wasn't dissapointed. The store is endless, and everything that was advertised was there - 5 cent coffee, free ice water, cowboy clothes, and a giant animatronic T-Rex that roars every 10 minutes. I'm into that kind of gimmicky stuff, so if you are too it's definitely a must stop, and it's even closer to I-90 than the Corn Palace.

Mt. Rushmore was less exciting for me. It looks exactly like it does in the pictures (big surprise) and it's about an hour round trip out of the way. Worth doing once if you're into big touristy monuments. We then went on to hike Crow Peak, a 7 mile round trip hike up a 1500' Black Hills peak with a great view of the Devil's Tower and 3 states from the top. This was a nice warmup for the trip, but if I were to redo the trip I would cut Rushmore and Crow Peak and just experience the Black Hills driving through scenic byway 14A, high-tailing it to the more exciting Wyoming.

Right before arriving at our campsite in the Black Hills, we encountered a herd of wild cattle in the middle of the road. I suppose they weren't wild so much as escaped, but it was still very amusing. They didn't seem too fazed by us, and we weren't really sure what to do - I really didn't want to risk pissing off the cows and having them destroy our car, leaving us stranded in South Dakota. Interestingly enough, after a minute of contemplation, they began observing OA road crossing protocol, crossing one by one. However, two stubborn cows stood in the middle of the road, staring at us disinterestedly. Finally, another car came in the other direction, and the two remaining cows exited the road peacefully. The campsite was very nice and worth the wait - for the rest of the night, there would be an occasional "moo" from down the road, and it never failed to get a laugh out of me.

Pine Creek

We woke up to blue skies, with the morning sunlight shining on Waverly Mountain. The first two miles of our hike were along Pine Creek Trail, a well-maintained, flat trail beside Pine Creek that crossed in and out of meadows and forest. This might have been the most beautiful and relaxing two miles of hiking of my life. Along the way, we passed our second all female high school-aged group (with the exception of two male leaders), this one on horseback. We suspect they may have been deaf-mutes - they were friendly enough, but seemed not to notice when we asked questions like "what group are you with?"

Our loop continued on South Pine Creek Trail. Shortly after turning onto South Pine Creek Trail, we crossed knee-deep Pine Creek. The current was going pretty strong and the water was freezing cold, so we decided to set up a line across the river to transport our packs. This was probably completely unnecessary, but sort of fun.

After crossing Pine Creek (10,700'), the trail continued up to a ridge of Mt. Harvard (12,000') over 1 mile. This was probably the steepest climb I've ever done, although we took it pretty slowly so it wasn't that bad. Once we crossed over the ridge line, the trail forked in two directions, both of which quickly disappeared. The next few miles of the mostly non-existent South Pine Creek Trail passed through a secluded valley of Mt. Harvard. From here until the crossing the next ridge the following day, we saw no people, no trail, and a lot of non-human poop. This was my first experience with serious off-trail navigation - the idea was pretty scary at first, but the valley was sparsely wooded, so orienteering was easy given the constant visibility of recognizable creeks, peaks, and lakes.

Bottom line: Pine Creek Trail is likely the most scenic trail I have ever hiked on. Don't hike South Pine Creek Trail without a good Trails Illustrated map and a little bit of orienteering knowledge. [Picasa]

Frenchman Creek/Colorado Trail

After climbing Mt. Princeton, we backpacked for 3 days around Mt. Harvard. The drive to the trailhead quickly turned from a paved road to an "improved road," which, by Colorado standards, means a dirt road with a low enough grade that it's not hardcore enough to be considered a 4WD road. Improved has nothing to do with the pothole situation or other qualities that us Easterners would consider important in a road. Eventually, the improved road forked onto a legit 4WD road, which our guide book accurately described as "steep and narrow." Katy's grandfather's Jeep was once again clutch, saving us a good 2,000'/2 miles. We managed to avoid destroying the car, which was a nice bonus, although there were a few close calls when we bottomed out on large rocks. Fortunately, Jeeps are designed to love that kind of thing.

The hike in along Frenchman Creek Trail was relatively unexciting. We managed to miss the junction with the Colorado Trail (CT) and went about 15 minutes past it before running into a young couple from Colorado Springs coming down from Mt. Columbia (at 10:30am... talk about an early start to the day). They told us we had passed the trail junction, and we hiked with them back to the CT. The CT had a fallen tree on the trail about 10 feet past the junction, diminishing our embarrassment about missing the junction.

The CT was well maintained, although it was littered with an absurd amount of horse manure since horsepacking the CT is apparently pretty popular. The hike was mostly through a densely wooded coniferous forest and culminated with a 2,000' descent to Pine Creek, where we camped for the night, at the most beautiful campsite in the world (right), an alpine meadow overlooking snow-capped Mt. Oxford (14,153') and Waverly Mountain (13,268').

Bottom line: Uneventful day of hiking. Most beautiful campsite in the world (although I haven't been to the Maroon Bells yet, so I can't compare). [Picasa]

Mt. Princeton

After rafting, we drove Katy's grandfather's Jeep up a sketchy 4WD road from the base of Mt. Princeton Rd. near Buena Vista (8,000'), past a radio tower at 10,800' and camped for the night at 11,000'. We woke up at 5:15am the next morning and hit the trail at 6:35am. We're not exactly morning people - this was our shortest time from wake up to trail for the trip. While hiking above the tree line in Colorado, it's a good idea to give yourself enough time to get below the tree line by 3pm or so to avoid afternoon storms. We followed Mt. Princeton Road up past several switchbacks and snowbanks, and hiked through our first snow of the trip at the intersection of Mt. Princeton Rd. and Mt. Princeton trail (around 12,000').

The Mt. Princeton Trail is pretty much at the tree line, and the brush line is not too much higher, around 12,200'. From there, the last 2,000' are a scramble through a talus field to the summit at 14,167' (1 foot taller than Mt. Yale). Fog obscured our view at the beginning of the climb, and the sun only teased us occassionally during the first half of the climb. Fortunately, things began to clear up as we hit the final ridgeline (13,000') with an awesome view westward to Mt. Antero (above). The last 500 feet or so (elevation-wise) to the summit were brutally strenuous - steeply sloped, and not a whole lot of oxygen to help you out. We summited at 10:25 am. The view from the top was breathtaking (literally - more on that in a bit) - we could see about halfway across Colorado in all directions. 10:30-11 is peak summiting time, so we shared the summit with about 10 other people and a few dogs. We hung out at the summit until 11:15, eating lunch and taking photos with Alex's Princeton 2008 banner.

The descent was much more challenging than the ascent because all three of us were affected to one degree or another by mild acute mountain sickness (AMS). It turns out that hanging out for an hour above 14,000' does not so great things for bodies acclimatized to sea level. According to the OA Guide to High Altitude (and personal experience), symptoms of mild AMS include "headache, dizziness, fatigue, shortness of breath, loss of appetite, nausea, [...] and a general feeling of malaise." We also experienced some mental status changes (i.e. becoming disoriented and/or irritable). I'm not exactly sure what went through my head at the time, but I decided I was getting down the mountain as fast as I could, without paying much regard to where nebulously defined trail was. It turns out that following the nebulously defined trail would have been significantly easier than cutting my own shortcut through loose rocks, but that thought didn't cross my mind in my altered state, and Katy and Alex, in their altered states, didn't think to stop me before it was too late.

Around 13,500', I was the first in the group to begin experimenting with ibuprofen, which quickly became our group's crack. In any case, headaches and morale quickly improved as we went below 13,000'. The rest of the descent was uneventful, but chilling at a coffee shop at 8,000' has never felt so good. To read more on AMS, check out the by Rick Curtis.

Bottom line: climbing 14ers is tough but worth it for the views. Mild AMS is a bitch - ask your doctor about Diamox. [Picasa]