Some Yellowstone “Fish-tory”
“Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realise they were the big things.” -Robert Brault
Featured photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/XpLL9hmTmZsA41yj9
September 4th, 2023 - Yellowstone Day 3
We awoke that morning surrounded by goats. Okay, that’s a little overexaggerated. But we did wake up in a lodge surrounded by goats. Metal goats, that is.
The Range Rider’s Lodge is an encapsulation of the things I love about the West. The 1938 log structure still retains the charm it had when it was first built. Its logs are thick and full of stories. Its guest rooms are charming and cozy. It nestles between two fog-blanketed mountains, tucked away for only adventurers to find. And yes, the lodge has goats. There is no reasonable explanation for the dozens of small metal goats that are scattered everywhere. When we inquired about them, we were told that the lodge’s owner likes the goats, so he bought a bunch to sell to guests. You can purchase a goat for yourself at the tiny general store next to the lodge. You have plenty of goats to pick from. They meander through the yard and up over the store’s roof. You can even enter a drawing for a goat to be mailed to you if you’re the lucky winner!
We didn’t buy a goat, mostly because I wasn’t sure how to get one on the plane. Once in Arizona, I purchased a copper horse figurine. It raised red flags when we sent our suitcases through the TSA scanners. One of the TSA officers even asked me, “...Do you have a metal horse in your luggage?” I could only imagine the strange looks we’d get if they saw a metal goat on their scanners!
In a way, the goats set the tone for our day at Yellowstone. From start to finish, our day was full of wildlife! When we first got on the road, we became inadvertent participants in a bison parade. A whole herd of bison was plodding slowly down the road, unaware that we had hoped to get an early start on the trail. They didn’t care. Yellowstone bison have a sort of self-assuredness about them. They know this is their park. They know you’re a visitor. And you’d best give them the respect they deserve, or you’d pay the price. I’d seen enough videos of bison ramming cars to know what they were capable of. So, in the interest of protecting our rental car, we just followed the herd. It took about 20 minutes for the herd to cross a bridge and decide on where they wanted to eat breakfast. We idled slowly along behind them, amused by their interactions.
It was raining by the time we made it to the trailhead. Go figure. Now well-accustomed to Yellowstone’s temperamental weather, we donned our rain coats, pulled out the umbrellas, and hit the trail. Today’s adventure was a long loop traveling along the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. On sunny days, the sulfur-yellow rocks of the canyon glow vibrantly, accenting the shimmering surface of the majestic Yellowstone Falls. On a cloudy day, the colors are muted, but still beautiful. We only wished the rain was a little warmer.
We followed the trail to several overlooks of the falls, stopping for pictures and snacks along the way. When our trail split away into some backcountry, unease began twisting my stomach. It was quiet back here. Too quiet. It had been at least an hour since we passed any other hikers on the trail, and the warning sign about grizzlies at the trailhead still burned fresh in my brain. This looked like bear country. If I were a bear, this is where I’d want to live. Vast meadows stretched out between pine forests. The occasional pond and sulfrous mud pots spotted the landscape. It was strikingly beautiful. What bear wouldn’t want this to be their neighborhood?
I readjusted the bear spray hanging from my hip. Well, we’d already hiked this far. There was nothing we could do but keep going. But just in case, I started periodically clapping my hands, just to let Yogi or Smokey or Boo-Boo know that we were there. Fortunately, we survived! No bears were startled and no bear spray was sprayed. It was a good hike.
We journeyed down to Yellowstone Lake for another hike that afternoon. It was rainy there, too, but this hardly detracted from the beauty of the lake. It was much larger than I expected, stretching out in a grey mirror beneath the low-hanging clouds. We didn’t see bears there, either, but the landscape certainly wasn’t devoid of wildlife! A cute rabbit chomped some grass in a tangle of branches, where it thought it was invisible. Ducks paddled on a small pond. A mule deer with massive antlers stared at us brazenly as we took his photo in front of the lake. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was posing for us.
The Fishing Bridge was one of our last stops on this trail. Built in 1902, the long, wooden bridge has been an icon of the park for decades. It used to be an enormously popular place for fishermen to catch native Yellowstone cutthroat trout. In the summers, both sides of the bridge would be lined with fishing poles and sunburnt fish aficionados (“a-fish-ionados,” perhaps). Fishing was such a popular pastime in the park, in fact, that lake trout were introduced into Yellowstone Lake to increase the thrill. This turned out to be a devastating decision for the park. The much-larger lake trout began preying on the native cutthroat trout in the lake, significantly decreasing their population size. Lake trout live and spawn in deeper waters than cutthroat trout, so grizzlies and other predators had a much more difficult time feeding on the fish they depended on. In the 1970s, the cutthroat trout numbers had declined so severely that fishermen were banned from the Fishing Bridge. It was the end of an era for the park. The Bridge still stands, somehow lonesome without its pole-wielding companions. However, its story isn’t over. Perhaps it can serve as a symbol of hope for the park. In recent decades, conservation efforts have made changes in the park. Recognizing the crucial roles that cutthroat trout play in the ecosystem, movements to preserve and boost their numbers have been made. Efforts to decrease the lake trout competition have led to increased cutthroat populations. They haven’t returned to the historical highs that they once held, but the cutthroats are reviving. Maybe, eventually, they’ll be stable enough for fishing to return to the Bridge. We can only hope for the best!
We finished our evening sitting on bison hides in front of a crackling fireplace. Our suppers sat warmly in our stomachs. I snuggled in cozily next to Tyler. It’s funny how we forget to be grateful for things. When we’re healthy, we forget to be thankful that we aren’t sick. When our stomachs are full, we forget to give thanks for the meal we just ate. When we’ve just spent a day enjoying nature, it seems crazy to imagine a world without those privileges.
The national parks help to keep me humble. They remind me that the things I love aren’t a guarantee. Sometimes, like fishing from the Fishing Bridge, things can change and disappear. This isn’t cause for alarm. If I were to spend my life worrying about all the things I might lose, I’d miss out on everything that I haven’t. Instead, I’m working to live life more in the present. I’m working to put my phone down more. I’m working on noticing the caterpillars and flower blooms and flying birds. I’ll always say “I love you.” Because at the end of the day, you never know what little thing might disappear eventually. It’s best to smile and love it while it lasts.
Hiking trails:
South Rim trail to the Wapiti, Clear, and Ribbon Lakes at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone
Storm Point Loop at the Yellowstone Lake
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