My YNP Adventure - Page 2

On the Trail

I arrived at the trail head, located at Artist Point, by 0930. I had wanted to arrive earlier, but my best efforts to break camp at Slough Creek took at least an hour. Even after I was ready to leave my campsite, I had to drive over 40 miles to get to the trail. I began my trip with excitement and optimism, however.

After cresting a hill through sagebrush prairie and walking through a grassy meadow, I headed toward a small thermal area.

I had allowed a group of four day hikers to pass me. They were carrying small loads and traveling faster. We spoke briefly. They were headed to Ribbon Lake. The trail was narrow and rutted. I had to stop frequently to adjust my load and catch my breath. I was carrying 60 pounds on my back. I stood in a cluster of trees while the group of four rested and explored the thermal area. I tried to be courteous and let them stay ahead of me.

The small thermal basin was mostly gray and barren, as is characteristic of these places, and it only contained a few mud pots, fumaroles, and sulfurous streams. I was pleased to find that the odor of sulfur did not make me sick, as I had heard it does to some people.

A trek through a small lodgepole pine forrest, and another meadow, took me to a sulfur-laden pond. I nearly lost the rubber tip of one of my trekking poles in a muddy spot adjacent to the pond. Thin poles of pine had been lain through the mud, forming a bridge of sorts. I quickly learned to land the ends of my trekking poles on these pine spans for support, as they rolled in the mud at every footstep. I saw numerous tracks in along the muddy shore of the pond. The widlife apparently use it as a source of water.

I finally sat down to rest about 1/2 mile east of the pond, after passing the junction of the Wapiti and Ribbon Lake trails. I ate a few handfuls of trail mix for lunch. Up unitl now, I rested in a standing position. A log lay on a slope at the side of the trail, and it looked inviting. For the first time in 2 hours, I could free myself of the load on my back.

A haggered-looking couple passed as they headed toward the trailhead. The fellow asked, "Going in or coming out?" I told them that I was headed in. "Have fun!", his female companion said. "I'll try.", I responded. These were the last people that I would see until I hiked out the next day.

From this point onward, the Wapiti Trail took me through lodgepole pine forrest, meadows, and fords. Anyone who travels this trail is assured of plenty of available water. Few visual distractions await you, however. If you have mountain vistas and rocky streams in mind, forget this trail. For the first twelve miles, all one can see is trees and grass. The trail is also in need of some serious maintenenace too.

Deadfall makes the trail difficult to travel in many places. I had trouble moving under some fallen trees, because my pack would catch on branches and stubs. At one point, I lost a sandal that was tied to my pack, and I had to backtrack several hundred feet to find it. But by then, that would be the least of my worries.

Fear Became an Obstacle

I began to become concerned for my safety after I realized that I might not make my campsite before dark. It was about 1600, and I knew that I was about 3 miles from my campsite. Travel was much slower than I had anticipated. My original estimate would have put me in camp by then. The Fairyland crew made the trip to Moss Creek in four hours. I thought that it might take me two or three hours longer. Where I had been hiking in Iowa, I could make this trip in 4 hours!

I struggled with thoughts of camping somewhere short of my designated campsite. Nightfall would stir the bears into a more active state as they search for food. Park Service rules discourage night travel in the wilderness. I looked around for a place to to pitch my tent as I pushed on.

I kept thinking that stopping short of Moss Creek was a bad idea, however, as camping outside of a designated area might be more dangerous. Most of the bear country rules are predicated on the notion that bears will avoid humans unless they associate people with food. Bears will mormally stay clear of campsites. I decided that the designated campsite would be the safest place to be.

I saw several bear tracks and scratchings where one would expect to see them, near water. It should be noted that I had been making a lot of noise thoughout the trip. I had a bell attached to one of my trekking poles, and one hanging from my pack. Every few hundred feet, I shouted "Hey bear!" and blew a whistle which hung from my neck. I was doing all that I could to avoid a bear encounter, but the evidence of their presence was clear to me.

My fear was quite rational, and I responded to it in a rational manner. I prayed to Jesus to protect me and give me the strength to push on. My back was aching and my feet were sore. I was not hesitant to ask for divine help.