Not Yellowstone

I am more than eagerly awaiting long walks in the Wyoming alpine!  We had been in the van a little over two weeks now and had endured countless challenges and frustrations as we adapted to life in a GMC Savana, but now, here on the other side of Yellowstone National Park and away from the selfie nabbing, wildlife harassing tourists, it finally felt the way I had longed for this whole time.  We met a congenial older man and his Border Collie, camping adjacent to us.  He was friendly and affable, a perfect combination of inviting and minding his own business.  We chatted with him awhile and learned that he came to this campground every year for the past 20 years or so and stayed the maximum allowable days, which was 21.  He had long passed his prime, but relayed he had hiked most if not all of the trails in the area, and though he couldn't put as many miles on his arthritic legs and back as he used to, he still made a point to feel the dirt under his feet and get figuratively lost in an area he knew better than most.  

A strong, positive night before omen

Rousing early from our cozy nest in the van, we pulled on our hiking clothes and boots, loaded up our backpacks, and set out just after blue hour as the sun began its ascent from obscurity, the mosquitoes starting to stir as plentiful, though undersized, brook trout leapt enthusiastically from the lake near our campground to feast on early morning mayflies.  The starting elevation for our hike this day was somewhere in the neighborhood of 9,000’.   We followed an official trail for about 4.5 miles, then used GPS and our own senses for the final mile to a seldomly visited lake rumored to be brimming with Yellowstone Cutthroat trout. Along the way we waded through frigid alpine inlets, scrambled up and around small faces, and even saw some grizzly prints while making plenty of noise to ensure all we saw were prints.  Once at the lake we were mobbed by the largest, most aggressive blood-thirsty mosquitoes outside of Alaska. We fished for a couple of hours, battling the wind and the constant mosquito bites while landing several beautiful fish, which we released for another ambitious angler to enjoy one day.  Polishing off our snacks of beef jerky and trail mix, we decided it was time to make our return to camp and the traditional and glorious post-hike feast- steaks over the fire and s'mores.  

Picturesque early morning views

Wildflower framing

Still on the maintained trail, we passed several tarns and smaller lakes

Ready to go up and over, I think

We saw one person camped at a high point near this lake.  I don't know how he withstood the mosquitoes, but I am sure the night sky was worth it.  

The formal trail ended at this lake for us

We traversed around the lake, hopping boulders and pausing to take in the scenery (aka to catch our breath)

Some of the boulders we negotiated

The wildflowers were in full force

After one of two outlet crossings

At this point, we switched to a low profile water shoe since we likely had more crossings to negotiate and also because we were getting closer to the final push

Finally!  Almost around the lake

Reflection game was strong

Part of the final push, just after we saw grizzly prints

Overlooking one of the larger lakes, where we saw the lone backpacker

Finally fishing, but you can never let your guard down- bear spray always at the ready

So many flowers

Looking for trout among the boulder structure

This is what we came for

Yellowstone Cutthroat

One last glance before descent

Rather than return via our original path, we instead opted to follow the lake drainage down a couple of miles before intersecting with another trail that would return us to our campground.  Passing a few groups as the weekend commenced, everyone was friendly and polite.  We also found a man’s wallet on the trail and were lucky enough to find him patrolling our campground trying to retrace his steps in hopes of finding it. He was immensely grateful, and I remember thinking it was just a great ending to a great day as I inhaled some peanut butter pretzels which I chased with some Milk Duds.

When in doubt, just follow the drainage.  It's bound to lead to a trail

It was a more direct route that was probably slightly faster, but definitely drier... or was it?  More on that to come

Not quite cliffed out, but it did require a sporty scramble

Where you see the trail is where our route intersected with the established path

Sometimes it's easier just to get your feet wet rather than spend extra time trying to find a dry route

We ended up making a nice lollipop loop and enjoyed the new to us scenery

Marshmallows and milk duds, a winning post-hike combo