Mammoth Hot Springs

Sunday, August 26 and Monday, August 27. Norris, WY to Mammoth Hot Springs, WY.

When we got up this morning, the air outside the tent was cold. And since we were next to the Gibbon River, and it had rained in the night (and don't forget, hailed the previous afternoon), the air had that damp-cold feeling that requires a good strong cup of coffee to shake off. Fortunately, I have a bag of Starbucks and a stainless steel French press. Along with the coffee, instant oatmeal went a long way toward warming us up for the day.

The sun is beginning to show through the trees, so I take the rain fly off the tent and lay it out in the sun to dry, along with our bicycle covers. By the time we get packed up and ready to roll, it's close to 10am.

Today's ride is another short day, only 21 miles to Mammoth Hot Springs. There's no shoulder on the winding road here, so we spend some amount of time helping motorists remember how to pass a vehicle when there's oncoming traffic. We have become mistrustful of any car, truck or RV that doesn't slow down when it approaches us from behind, and are fearlessly taking the lane to remind drivers that they'll have to cross the yellow line to pass us. This tactic jolts them back to reality, and they have been very patient, waiting until they have a clear view of the oncoming traffic before they pass us. Of course, once we can see that the way is clear, we give back enough of the lane for them to pass us. Well, the signs in the park do warn bicyclists to watch out for cars, so I feel like a park ambassador when I take the lane.

The first stop-and-gawk feature we come to is Roaring Mountain. The thermal features that we've seen so far in the park have been in basins, but Roaring Mountain's vents and fumaroles are seen up and down the mountainside. There's not much water in these vents, and the sound of the steam escaping from the vents is the inspiration for its' name.

It's said that the explosive sounds from Roaring Mountain can sometimes be heard 4 miles away at Obsidian Cliffs, but we didn't hear the mountain while we were stopped at the cliffs. A small clutch of visitors alerted me to the presence of a coyote in the meadow to our right, and I was able to get a few pix before he crossed the road and disappeared into the woods beneath Obsidian Cliffs. These cliffs are absolutely beautiful; arrowheads made from the rocks here were widely traded by Indians throughout North America. I couldn't help thinking that when the first Indians came upon these cliffs, they must have thought they'd won the lottery. Even now, after countless years of legitimate use by local Indian tribes, and theft by visiting touristas, these cliffs are tall, dark and handsome.

A few miles later, we stopped at Apollinaris Spring. These days, motorized traffic usually blows right by the spring, but in the days when stagecoach travel was the only way around the park, a stop here was a welcome respite from the dusty road. Apollinaris is a natural mountain spring, now fitted with pipes to allow visitors to take a drink or fill a water bottle. In earlier years, visitors were glad to have the clear, cold water en-route to Madison Junction, but there's now an official Park Service notice warning thirsty visitors to drink at their own risk--purify first.

Beyond the spring lies Swan Lake Flats, and Swan Lake. There's no information about the area, but it's typical of the varied topography of the park. One minute you're in the wooded hillside, overlooking Yellowstone's Grand Canyon and the next you're on a flat, grassy plain. Not far beyond Swan Lake is a lookout point with a great view of the Gallatin Mountain Range, and peaks such as Sepulcher Mountain and Electric Peak. The ride next to this meadowland extends for a few miles, and as we head toward the hills again, we see the road signs indicating a steep (6%) downgrade. Whoopee! The descent will take us to the Mammoth Hot Springs area, where we'll stop for the night. As we fly down the hillside for the next few miles, we pass through the Silver Gate and the Golden Gate features. Here, the rock formations are bold, in-your-face clusters of boulders that perch precariously beside the roadway. I know they're not likely to give up their hold on the hillside and come thundering to the pavement as I ride by, but the thought does cross my mind. I hit a maximum speed of 34mph on this downhill. I know that I'll have plenty of time to look at these rock formations again--when we climb up this road and backtrack to Old Faithful.

Before getting to the Mammoth Hot Springs commercial area we stop at the travertine terraces. In contrast to the park's basins and calderas, the terraces are built up by the water that flows up from underground. The minerals in the water build tier upon tier of cascading, terraced stone, and they and the waters that flow over them are a stunning sight.

After walking, oohing and aahing our way along the boardwalks of the Hot Springs area, we coast down the hill to the Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel. I am glad that we're staying in the hotel tonight--last night was cold, and there's a back-in-time feeling about this place. The original hotel is long gone, a victim of poor construction. The current hotel's rooms are a wing that was added on to the original hotel in 1937; the lobby, gift shop and map room were added to the hotel soon after. Our room has a bath and shower, although most of the rooms share toilets and showers down the hall. Our room is on the the back corner of the hotel, and we have two windows. One overlooks the road to Gardiner, MT; the other looks out over the hotel's lawn and beyond to the buildings of Fort Yellowstone. We get checked into our room around 3pm, just as a small herd of elk are arranging themselves on the lawn outside our window. This is too much for me to resist; while Matthew is in the shower, I grab the camera and head down to the main event.

A small crowd of visitors has begun to gather on the sidewalk that borders the lawn. A few of the elk are grazing, a few are sprawled out on the grass, a few more are curled up on the lawn, and I even notice a few are curled up and grazing--lay-zee! The big buck with the impressive rack is standing in the midst of the herd, and suddenly he charges at one of the young bucks--chasing him right toward a camera-toting onlooker! She turns and flees out of range, but that's when two rangers suddenly appear in our midst, corraling us to the opposite end of the lawn. The floor show continues when the big buck chases the other young buck to the outskirts of the pack. The female elk have barely moved during all of this male posturing. The rangers keep herding us further from the lawn area, so I break from the crowd and head back up to our room. Matthew has seen the whole show from the safety of the third floor.

In the lobby of the hotel is a large montage of photos from the late 1800's. They've been colorized, and not very well, which makes them seem less life-like. Two of the photos depict groups of visitors, in full Victorian garb, scandalously posed ON the terraces of the Hot Springs. Ever since we entered the park, we've been cautioned, cajoled and commanded to protect the park and its' fragile ecosystems by staying on the trails and boardwalks, but in the freewheeling, pioneering, early days of the park, it was de rigeur to literally leave your mark on the park. I love these photos, though. Frankly, I'm impressed with these travelers, the women especially, for enduring a difficult and dangerous journey to visit Yellowstone. I think that if it had been me, I would have demanded to be in the picture, even though I can't imagine clamboring onto the stone terraces in dress shoes, a floor-length, full-bustle skirt, bonnet and parasol. Another photo depicts a Tally-Ho stagecoach that ferried passengers through the park on their visit, and another shows the stone arch at the park's entrance, but my favorite photo is an artfully arranged group of 8 men, in uniform and standing with their bicycles, at various levels of the Hot Spring's terraces. These are the boys of the Army Bicycle Unit, on a 900-mile route that includes Yellowstone.

I have ample opportunities to admire these photos--daguerrotype copies of these five photos are hung in every hall and every room in the hotel. I'm a little disappointed by the hotel's decor; the paint scheme is bland almost to the point of being colorless. The hallway lighting is sparse, almost depressing, but I guess the pale wall color reflects what little light there is. Our room is very comfortable; plain but not sparse. Maybe I'm not the best judge these days--carrying the furnishings of your "room" in a trailer behind your bike might redefine the term sparse. Anyway, I get the feeling that the hotel's interior decorator didn't quite understand patrons who'd come all this way would want to feel their wilderness inside and out.

Our original plan was to stay in Mammoth one night, then camp at Madison Junction, about 35 miles away. The next day we'd ride another 15 to Old Faithful, and spend the day visiting the geyser area there. With the memory of a cold campsite still fresh, we thought maybe we could ride the 50 miles from Mammoth to Old Faithful in one day. Matthew checked on available rooms at Old Faithful, but there were none to be had. Instead, we extended our stay at Mammoth a second night--which gave us a little more time to explore the area.

After breakfast the next day, we spent some time walking around Fort Yellowstone. Some buildings are made with local stone, others from timber, and date from the days before the National Park Service existed. At that time, the Army policed the park, but without any authority to prosecute poachers or other violaters. When the NPS folks arrived, the officers' houses were used for rangers and their families; this continues even today.

At the "new" guard house, built in 1911, the concrete steps are crumbling and the building looks ready to be abandoned. Reading the guidesheet, though, Matthew discovers that this building is still used as a jailhouse. And as I round the corner of the building and step off the front porch, a ranger pulls up with a handcuffed, orange-jumpsuited prisoner in tow. So there.

In the evening, we attend a slideshow presentation in the map room of the hotel. The topic is "Touring Yellowstone in 1902--From The Scrapbook of Mr. and Mrs. Carland". The whole presentation is wonderful, and so unexpected. The story begins with the park employee giving the presentation. He's a 28-year park employee, who began his career at the park as a dishwasher. He now plays piano in the map room for a few hours in the evening, and also gives the scrapbook presentation.

He found the scrapbook at an estate sale in New Mexico about 8 years ago, and has been researching it ever since. The scrapbook captures a month-long, 9,000-mile, cross-country train trip taken in 1902 by Mr. and Mrs. Carland (get it, train trip, the CARlands) from Albany, NY. Their trip is in a special car, because they are headed to a Shriners convention. Their journey takes them from NY across the country to Los Angeles, then up to Seattle, and on to Yellowstone before heading east again.

The audience was informed that the entire month's trip cost $250 per person--including all meals, transportation and accomodations at Yellowstone. They stayed at the original Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel, but were two years too early to stay at the now-famous Old Faithful Inn. Instead, after a 45-mile stagecoach ride from Mammoth, they had a room in a hotel near Madison Junction. With the advent of cars, folks just continued another 7 miles to Old Faithful and the Madison hotel became useless and was eventually razed. Another amusing factoid about accomodations in that era was that hotels routinely were short on space, and would often assign parties who didn't know each other to share the same--bed.

The Carlands spent 5 days at Yellowstone, and, judging from the pictures and postcards in the scrapbook, saw pretty much the same sights as we are. Probably the same sights as most travelers to the park would see.

The only accomodations available at Old Faithful in 1902 were tents, and that's where the Carlands stayed. These days you can choose from the Old Faithful Lodge, the Old Faithful Inn, and the Snow Lodge. When we arrive at Old Faithful tomorrow, we'll be at the Snow Lodge. Later.