Digression:
Report from Yellowstone
(I
departed Illinois last month for a few weeks to travel with a very good friend
and former colleague Dennis in search of sites in Western lore that had
fascinated us, but for which we had never had or made the time to explore. I reported back to my close friends and
family what we learned each day. This is
just one day.)
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| Bear Spray: On Sale at $49.99 |
The rage in Montana and Wyoming this summer is a new product called
Bear Spray. Frightening commercials jump out at you on the radio, the
television, or billboards as you drive along the wilderness. Bear Spray is supposed to stop a Grizzly when
it attacks you while you are on the trail, strolling along the edge of a forest
or shopping in a local convenience store.
The ads come on in fifteen-minute intervals, and even the Park
Rangers have taken up the cause by providing warning tips in their handouts
before you enter the park.
From their brochure: “If you encounter a bear (common) stand your
ground. If the bear charges at you (rare) stand your ground and use bear
spray. If a bear charges and makes contact with you (very rare) fall onto
your stomach and ‘play dead.’”
In the store, Bear Spray costs $50 a canister. And the
packaging clearly boasts that a man who survived a bear attack made it. There
is a ferocious image of a bear on the package, but no images of the
survivor/creator. Cosmetically, probably not a good idea.
The Park Service further suggests: “If a bear charges at you, (1)
remove the safety clip, (2) aim slightly downward and adjust for wind, (3)
begin spraying when the bear is 30 - 60 feet away, (4) spray at the bear so the
bear must pass through the mist.” Later on in the same information, the
article describes a Grizzly Bear’s ability to burst up to speeds of forty miles
per hour.
That’s a lot to do in the three seconds you might have before
something like a furry and toothy Honda Civic hits you. Act fast!
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| View of Yellowstone R. |
The Absaroka Inn where we
are staying is named after the Crow Indians in their language and the host
behind the office counter is very knowledgeable about the Grizzlies in the
area. We asked him this morning before we left if we should do something
special, like buy some Bear Spray. His name is Donald.
Donald: There’s no point in buying that. Bears will
attack when surprised. You just need to let them know you are coming and
they will leave you alone. In fact they will usually leave the area.
Dennis: How can we do that?
Donald: I sell these smaller sleigh bells. You clip them
to your belt or pants trousers and the noise will make the bear aware that you
are coming. They’ll leave. This is very important to do if you are
in bear territory.
John: How will we know if we are in bear territory?
Donald: You’ll see their scat.
Dennis: Scat?
Donald: Bear poop.
Dennis: How will we be able to tell if it’s bear poop, and not
some other animals’?
Donald: You’ll see the all the bells in it.
Seriously, we saw no bears today, but we spied just about everything
else, including a 35 minute wait on the road while Rangers tried gently to
coerce a herd of Buffalo bulls to move their girlfriends off the asphalt.
We took pictures from the car. A few people got out with
tripods and photographic equipment even National Geographic would covet. to get
closer.
Like most places, people are crazy here.
Buffalo do not see very well (we learned that when we went to the
Buffalo talk in Custer State Park), but they can hear and smell very well.
When you get within 70 feet of them, they will extend their long blue
tongue, wag it back and forth, and grunt aggressively. This is native
Buffalo for “Back off, my friend, whatever you are.” Dennis and I
listened carefully, as bulls are over 2000 pounds and up to 10 feet at the
shoulder. We stay in the car and play mute.
Evidently an Australian visitor last week did not learn this, or he
didn’t comprehend the body language, so he tip-toed up to 3 feet away to snap a
big bull's picture. He’s recovering, as is the young girl prodded by her
parents last week to stand next to a Buffalo lying on the ground. Brave
girl. When Mom and Dad asked her to turn around so they could take a
picture of her and the Buffalo next to her she was gored badly. You can’t
fix stupid - probably the words on the poster on the wall of the Park Rangers’ changing
area.
Today, Dennis and I watched elk in herds lying on the grass. coyotes
crossing in front of us, young ospreys in a nest over a canyon gorge, a
white-tailed deer walking through the middle of town. But we also saw
much more.
I imagine it must have been the same for those first explorers like
John Colter and David Thompson who came through the surface of a seething
caldera and witnessed a geological demonstration unlike most anything else on
earth. Nearly 3500 square miles of protected land sitting atop gurgling,
steaming geothermic activity.
Native American points washed up on the Yellowstone River, date back
to nearly 11,000 years where we sleep tonight. The Yellowstone River,
from which the park got its name.
There’s a scene that old Ridley Scott film “Bladerunner” (which
Dennis and I both love) when the dying Replicant exclaims his parallel
mortality to a persistent and ignorant mortal: “I’ve seen things you people
would never believe.”
One day, while an ambulance and several Ranger vehicles speed by us
in the opposite direction to search for the remains of a 28-year-old park
visitor who decided to leave the carefully constructed, protective path around
the hot geysers and slip into the bubbling turbulence, we went to visit the Grand
Prismatic Spring. The spring is a
bubbling geothermic kaleidoscope that produces various minerals, bacteria, and
super heated water, which in turn engenders a combination of color and radiance
that “you people would never believe.” Heck, we were there and we didn’t
believe it.
We arrived at Old Faithful about one half hour before it erupted.
Four tres jolie jeune filles
sat down in front so we could snap pictures. Over 4 million people visit
Yellowstone National Park each year, so it should come as no surprise that
many, very many are international.
Nevertheless, I was often surprised at the myriad numbers of languages
encountered on even a single small path leading to something naturally
beautiful. Wherever we went, languages fell about our ears from distant
countries. I greeted a woman with “bienvenu” at the artist paint pots
today. She said, “Enchante.” I felt like a smitten diplomat.
Finally, we wandered along the edge of the
Yellowstone Canyon before coming home, standing as far as we dared along the earthquake
shattered cliff face that asked us not to step any further. We didn’t.
Going to bed tonight. Hiking with all these bells on is
exhausting. Hoping Dennis will come back soon. Have not heard from
him or even his bells lately.
