End of the winter musings

March 16th. Getting closer to the final winter melt down…. Today was the first day this winter that I could easily have been on a beach and been happy- 40 degrees and mushy snow. Less than two weeks to go before Emily and I pack up and leave Big Sky, Montana. But before I put my skis away and forget about winter, there are some adventures that I have yet to mention in my blog.

After the last Yellowstone post, Emily and I spent a few weeks skiing on the Lone Mountain trails. We enjoy the difficulty of the terrain, the excellent snow conditions, and the grooming there. Two weeks before our last ‘big race,’ the Rendezvous 50k in West Yellowstone, we decided we’d better get a long ski in to prepare. Emily had been trying all winter to figure out a way we could inexpensively ski around the ‘Old Faithful’ area of the Yellowstone Park. Finally she found a deal where we could take a snow shuttle in to Old Faithful for $20/each rather than the $110 guided tour, which seems the most common. From Old Faithful we would be responsible to ski back out the 32 miles to W.Yellowstone on the snow-covered roads. So, we arranged the trip with Yellowstone Alpine Guides.

Of course, there were a few hurdles like getting up in Big Sky at 4 am in order to make the shuttle departure from W.Yellowstone leaving at 6:45am. There were the concerns like how much liquids we needed to bring for hydration, how to carry our food and extra clothing without making the skiing anymore tiresome than need be; 32 miles is a fair distance by ski. Other concerns included what the weather would be, the snow conditions, and if the entire road was covered by snow. Before we reserved our shuttle, we asked the reservations personnel some of these questions. The roads were in fact good; just one bare spot right around Old Faithful and we could ski around it. The weather the day before was actually hot for this part of Montana hitting 40 degrees and our day was to be a bit more overcast, so more like just around freezing as a high temp for the day. This was all looking in our favor; the mild temps would allow us the luxury of not having to bring too many extra clothes, the snow would be at a perfect temp for easy skating and good glide, but yet the temperatures for the day would not overheat us and make extra hydration necessary. We booked the shuttle and began arranging our equipment, gear, clothes, and food.

The day before, we first went to the waxing hut that we use almost every day at Lone Mountain Ranch. We waxed with a blue/purple swix glide wax. This would give us good longevity and decent glide. Then we went back to the condo and I started a pizza dough. Pizza would be the lunch with chocolate chip cookies that Emily made. We each brought 3 litres of Gatorade to get us through. We stowed the Gatorade in camelbacks, which we hoped would not freeze up. I packed the pizza sandwich style so that each slice is face down on the other making a sandwich. Pizza is very transportable this way. We each carried an extra pair of socks, gloves, and hat just in case. We tested our packs to make sure they felt reasonable, not too heavy or uncomfortable. Satisfied, we spent the rest of the short evening watching a movie and we were in bed at 9pm.

4 am came way to quickly. We drank coffee, ate some oatmeal, and wearily left the house at 5. The drive in the dark to W. Yellowstone sucked, I was nervous about Elk in the road. We arrived just before the snow coach driver did. We changed into our ski boots, dawned our ski garb, loaded the skis onto the Coach and were off. The snow coach is like a giant, old VW beetle, but with benches on either side and along the back. They have snow tracks to float on the snow and skis in the front steer the vehicle. These vehicles are old, but have been retrofit with modern efficient diesel engines with high standard pollution control. Still, I heard these things only get 6-8 mpg. Riding in the snow coach was a bit of a rough ride and the driver had to muscle the manual steering. The Yellowstone Alpine guides are a cool bunch of youngsters that have all chosen their jobs because they love the park, the animals, and a sense of adventure. There were three of them on board because they had to pick up two other snow coaches and drive a group of thirty tourists at Old Faithful out that day. There was also an older couple that was going in to ‘7-mile Bridge’ and they were to ski out. With Emily and I, seven passengers is a full boat. As we rode along the icy morning, fog began to burn off and the sky became light. I commented to Emily on how far we had been driven- in not long we would be skiing our way over these same roads. At one point visibility was reduced down to less than 50 ft as the geothermal activity condensing in the frigid air made a fog as thick as any on the Maine coast. All of a sudden, there were bison in front of the coach and the driver slowed…. I thought this would be interesting when it would be us on skis and no vehicle to hide in. Along the way we both talked to the guides asked a million rookie questions and wondered if we bothered these folks.

Finally, we arrived at the Snow Lodge at Old Faithful. The guides let us out and gave us a few pointers as to where we should head to avoid the tourist trap in the lodge. They encouraged us to wait a bit for the temperature to warm- it was 8 am and still in the low teens. Emily and I stuck our skis in a snow bank and headed into the lodge. On entering the lodge, we were immediately gazed on by globular tourists that were heading into the restaurant. It was strange to be preparing for a day of skiing with so many folks around us who never in a million years would think of doing what were about to do.

We could not handle more than a half-hour in the lodge, so we head on out. We started our tour skiing by Old Faithful and then we headed on to the north by a trail system called the Biscuit Basin Trail that takes you by many hot pools and geysers. Emily chose to take her skis off because there are many places on the trail that are elevated boardwalks that have no railings. Boiling pools wait below to receive anyone who skis off the edge. The bison had trampled the trail into craters in places and the hot mists glazed the ski trail, so it was an experience! We popped out onto the main road and head across it to look at what I remembered (from previous trips) being some very beautiful pools…Sapphire Pool is amazing. But on this day, the mist and fog blew right onto the trail so you really couldn’t get a good look into its sapphiry abyss. We head back to the road and began our skate skiing to cover some real ground. To the left was the Firehole River and near it, the trees were covered with frost. To the right were woods, cliffs, and small hot pool outflows that were melting the snow away.

It wasn’t more than 2 or 3 miles before we reached a large herd of bison. Luckily, they were making their way out of the road. After a few more miles, we ran into a herd that was just stepping into the road and they were in no rush. The majority of them were grazing slowly along on the riverside. The biggest bison were at the rear of the pack keeping track of things. They were in the road looking back at us giving us the feeling that we better not rush them. When a bison decides to move, they can do so quite quickly and on skis I felt a bit exposed and underpowered against these 1200-pound beasts. We scanned the roadside to see if we could go around them…not a chance, cliffs to the right and river to the left. So, we moved along behind them hoping for a gap to occur. It was a long cold wait and finally a snow coach and a snowmobile pushed through the herd giving us a chance to move. At this point, I passed a monster bison at maybe 25 yards…. closer than I wanted to be. It seemed as if we might get trapped in between these animals, so we sped up to get clear.

We skied through the surreal world of mud pots, fummerals, and the winter landscape. The steam rising from the thermal features creates a beautiful juxtaposition to a cold, winter day. At about noon, we stopped in the center of a wide valley for lunch. We sat on posts that stuck up out of the snow, ate pizza, and looked out over the steaming yet frozen winter-scape. Bison were all around on the small hills. After a cookie, we were off again.

The ski was mostly flat or slightly downhill and we were cruising. As we skated along we saw magnificent Trumpeter Swans on the river. They twice the size of a large Canada Goose and they really do make a trumpeting sound. At about 2 pm, we reached the turn for West Yellowstone at Madison Junction- half way there. There were few people out and about; a couple of snowmobile trains and some snow coaches, but other than that, we had the place to ourselves. In between Madison Junction and 7 Mile Bridge, we witnessed two enormous bull bison duking it out. We were glad that they were not too close as the charges and the head butting they did was frightening. At 7 Mile Bridge we made our last snack stop and sat on a wooden fence overlooking the Madison River. To each side the hills were steep with rugged-looking rock faces. The fires of ’88 left charred stalks of Lodgepole pines and beneath grew many young conifers, naturally seeded by the burn. Two massive bison grazed nearby us next to the river and a lone coyote wandered around in the road looking a bit thin and starved. It didn’t seem to want to come too close to us, no beggar. As we skied off again on tiring legs, it was a weird grouping with Emily and I, Mr. Coyote, and the big bison brothers all within 50 yards.
The rest of the ski was rather nondescript in the way of animals; the landscape, however, is breathtaking because we looked out over the plains toward the massive northern mountains. We commented on how the fires actually had made the views much better. Before the burns, the road must have been kind of boring because all one would have seen for most of the trip would have been dense Lodge Pole trees. After many slight bends through the remaining woods, we finally approached the West Yellowstone entrance gate. After each bend we would see another long stretch with no gate at the end. As we neared the gate, there was a group of Nordic skiers in the trail and they applauded Emily as to how fast and smooth she skied… if only they knew that she was at mile 32 of her ski. I skied under the overhead gateway, stopped where the car road began, took off my skis, and waited a few minutes for Emily to ski up…Wahoo! We did it! What a day! The rest of the story is about the elation one feels after such a day of accomplishment. We loaded our skis into the ski box and drove off back to Big Sky at about 3 pm. On our way back, we talked about how different the same distance will be when we race it in two weeks. It was not going to be as leisurely and most certainly not going to take 6.5 h