Wildlife, wild places
From Glacier’s less-lauded wilderness, I turned the Mustang south towards Wyoming and arguably the country’s most famous wild place: Yellowstone. The park is best known for its successful re-introduction of wolves, so I was disappointed to be told my search for the canids might be fruitless. “We don’t normally do wildlife-spotting trips this late in September,” said my guide Jim Palecek, as we began our search. “Prepare yourself that we may not see much.” Ten minutes later we were watching two female bighorn sheep locking horns, while a bull elk was bugling at his harem, and pronghorn antelope and bison grazed nearby. I turned to Jim: “You were saying?”
Just as the sun started to slump below the hills, we spotted a layby full of cars. Wolf-watchers – easy to identify by their expensive telescopes and camo jackets. “There’s a collared grey wolf there called 911,” explained Dusty, from Pennsylvania, who comes every year to watch them. “He’s working with a black wolf and another grey one. If you look through the scope you’ll see they’re circling their prey.” I peered through the eyepiece to see a sad-looking bison struggling to stand as 911 ran towards her, then backed off again. We stayed until they disappeared into the darkness.
The next morning I traded explosive wildlife scenes for literally explosive landscapes. Thanks to over two million years of volcanic activity this national park overflows with geysers, mudpots, steaming fumaroles and hot springs, not to mention a giant canyon.
The predictable chute of Old Faithful spewed like a shaken bottle of pop as I arrived at the visitor centre. I decided to check out Daisy geyser instead – a smaller though no less impressive natural fountain that, being a 30-minute walk from the nearest car park, sees far fewer visitors. At Daisy, the air was eggy with sulphur and the ground stained a rainbow of orange, green and blue by the constant flood of minerals. I was mesmerised.
I pulled myself away to head further south, to Grand Teton National Park. In 1942 American landscape photographer Ansel Adams snapped a moody shot of the Teton range above Snake River, so it seemed appropriate that, when I saw the mountains the next day, the clouds obscured most of the view, only allowing fleeting glimpses.
I didn’t mind the rainy weather; it was a good excuse to check out the human history of the park by visiting the Menor’s Ferry Historic District. Realising a passenger ferry across the river would be profitable, Bill Menor built one in 1894, along with a homestead and general store. It was a huge success, until a bridge rendered it redundant in 1927. However, the general store still operates, selling time-warp trinkets, sweets and cookies hot from the stove.
