Guest Posts on County 10 are provided by contributors and the opinions, thoughts, and comments within are their own and may not necessarily reflect those of County 10.
One of the perks of becoming older is that you get to be on a first name basis with some of your doctors. I offer as an example my present cardiologist. Since my heart event in March of 2015, I’ve been through a few heart doctors. All have been extremely professional and competent, but none, until my present physician, have stuck around long enough for me to establish any kind of relationship beyond professional, which is kind of a bummer for me during an appointment because I sometimes like to ask questions that have nothing to do with my health.
I know a lot about my present cardiologist, mainly because I’ve been seeing him once a year for the past five or six years. He calls me Hammer, and I call him Bill. I haven’t gotten to the point where I feel comfortable calling him by his last name, and probably won’t, mainly out of respect for his position. I guess I’ve always been better with first names anyway.
Just ask my son-in-law. There’s a story there, about which I’ve written before, but lack of space prevents me from doing so again, which, for you as a reader, is probably just as well. It wasn’t all that funny anyway, particularly for my son-in-law. I’m pretty sure he’s forgiven me by now.
I know my cardiologist is the same age as me. I know how many kids he has and wives he’s had. I know where he was born and where his career has taken him over the years. I would venture a guess that I know more about his personal life than he knows about mine, excluding the heart thing. He’s pretty much on top of that.
Every year, around the middle of June, I have a scheduled appointment with him at his office in Jackson. As in the past few years, my wife and I decided to pull our travel trailer over Togwotee Pass down into Jackson Hole and camp for a few days in mid-June. In the past, we stuck around the area after my appointment to enjoy a hike or two in the area or sometimes a bike ride and a hike.
This year, we planned four nights at the Hatchet Campground at the western base of Togwotee Pass because of its close proximity to Colter Bay and the hiking that is available in that area. We also decided to extend our camping trip by continuing on up into Yellowstone for three nights at Mammoth Hot Springs and a couple of nights at Fishing Bridge. For our first camping trip of the year, we felt good about our plans: some days of hiking, a couple of days of wildlife watching, and then some time to get from place to place.
We drove over to Jackson Hole in the afternoon before my appointment in time to set up the trailer, cook dinner, and then go for a short walk up a Forest Service gravel road that leads to Lily Lake and beyond. For the middle of June, the temperatures were on the chilly side. In fact, for all the days we stayed at Hatchet, layers and light jackets ruled the days and heavy sleeping bags kept us warm at night.
Less than a quarter of a mile into our evening walk from our campsite, we rounded a corner in the road and above us about 75 yards away at the top of a small ridge, we startled a cow elk, which whirled away and was gone in an instant. The encounter, as with most wildlife encounters, was gratifying. She was without a calf, unless she had one stashed nearby.
My cardio appointment was for the afternoon of the next day, so in the morning, we leisurely got around and drove into town for a little shopping in the morning, which was not necessarily a mistake; but anyone who has been in Jackson in the summer knows how crazy busy the streets are. We know the street system there pretty well, so we were able to plan our routes to avoid the worst of the traffic. Had I not had an appointment, we could have avoided the town all together and been a little happier.
We finally and thankfully left town after my appointment about 4:00 for the hour-long trip back to our campsite. About half way there, at about the same time, my wife and I caught movement up ahead about 75 yards in front of us and 50 yards to our left. At first I thought it might have been a small elk running toward the highway on a collision course with our truck, but then I recognized the animal for what it was: a larger cinnamon-colored black bear obviously on a mission to be somewhere else. Why it was running like its hair was on fire, in the middle of a sagebrush flat at 4:30 in the afternoon, one can only guess. My guess is that it was running from something larger, probably something with a shoulder hump and three inch claws.
The incident began what turned out to be daily encounters with wildlife on a scale we had not yet experienced in all the time we’ve been going to Grand Teton and Yellowstone.
I don’t feel the need to go into too much detail about bears, except to say that in one day in the Lamar Valley, we saw a total of 7 black bears (no grizzlies, surprisingly) and two wolves. The drive from Mammoth to Roosevelt is up and down with a lot of curves. A few miles from Tower Junction, we topped a small rise and coming uphill to meet us, on the opposite edge of the road was a big black wolf, seemingly unconcerned that he was backing up traffic in that lane. We, of course, did not stop to make matters worse (for both the wolf and other visitors).
Seeing a wolf that close to the road does not bode well for the wolf as I could only assume the animal was human-conditioned, being right on the road, and history proves that wild animals don’t usually live long when they have lost their fear of humans.
We saw another black bear well into an extensive hike the day before near Mammoth Hot Springs. At a distance of roughly two hundred yards across an open sagebrush meadow we felt the need to yell a few pleasantries in greeting, but the bear did not even acknowledge our presence…kind of a smug example of the species, if you ask me. We also had the good fortune to see a small grizzly bear cooling his (or her) heels in the cool waters along the shore of Yellowstone Lake near Fishing Bridge a few days later.
But most startling to me was an encounter we experienced upon our arrival at Mammoth Campground on Day 5 of our trip. When we arrived at the entrance to the campground, inside the entrance booth, perched on a stool, was a female volunteer about the same age as us tasked with checking in campers with reservations, and in a small back room obviously performing some important government work, was a female Park Service employee somewhat younger.
My wife and I think we’re pretty funny sometimes, much to the chagrin of our children, it seems; and as a consequence, we like to engage these volunteers at campgrounds in a little bit of good-natured ribbing, particularly if they are about the same age as ourselves. Both women appreciated our attempts at humor and returned our offerings in kind, which we found gratifying.
A few minutes later, as we approached our campsite, we both recognized it as the same site in which we stayed in June of 2021 when we were trailerless and began the summer camping in our old Cabela’s Outback tent. Then, on our first day in that campsite, after we had set up the tent, we encountered a huge bull snake that I would have guessed measured close to 5 feet in length, the longest bull snake I had ever seen. It nonchalantly crossed our campsite, then slithered across the access road to another campsite opposite ours.
I’m not particularly afraid of snakes, but getting up in the middle of the night to use the restroom proved to be a little worrisome, although uneventful for the few nights we were there. Headlamps are a blessing.
As we approached the campsite a few days ago, Gayla hopped out to help me guide the trailer to the best location, when I noticed she stopped abruptly in front of me. She then turned to look at me with a smile on her face and pointed to the ground, where I once again noticed a huge bull snake calmly crossing our campsite. I exited our truck to get a better look while the snake found and slowly disappeared down one of the many Uinta ground squirrel holes between our campsite and the access road.
Serendipity at its best. I can only assume it was the same snake from three years ago, only at least a foot longer…six feet unless I’m blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other.
After setting up the trailer, we decided to have a little fun with the entrance personnel from earlier. From our campsite, the short 10 minute walk to the entrance booth gave us time to come up with what we would say about a snake being in our campsite.
Still perched on her stool, the older gal gave us a nod as we approached.
“How can I help you?” she asked tentatively, as if she never expects to see previously checked in campers returning to her workplace.
As seriously as I could manage, I offered this observation, “I think you should consider giving us a discount on our campsite.”
Taken aback, she asked, “Why?” Apparently, she’d never been asked that question.
“Well…because our campsite was occupied when we got there.” All the while, I’m still doing my best to keep a straight face, but failing slightly.
“What?! Who?!” she replied incredulously.
“Not who. What.”
“What? A bear?” she inquired.
“No, not a bear,” I informed her. “Just the biggest bull snake I’ve ever seen.”
By now, our conversation had acquired the attention of the younger Park Service employee from the back room, who strolled out to become a part of the conversation.
The volunteer smiled and informed us, “Oh, that’s Sid. He’s been here for years. One of the volunteers from last year named it Sid, after Hissing Sid, an old cartoon character from England.
“About that discount…” I deadpanned.
This is where the younger gal in the green uniform decided to exert some authority.
“Discount?” she said authoritatively. “You should be paying us extra for allowing Sid to take care of all the Uinta ground squirrels around your campsite.”
Which rang with more than a little truth. Three years ago, the area around our campsite seemed overrun with the noisy, little gray devils, whereas all the while we were in Mammoth this year, we failed to see one ground squirrel in the whole campground.
Smiling, I said, “You guys don’t give an inch, do you?”
“Come back when you have something original,” replied green uniform with a triumphant smile.
“That’s asking a lot,” I said, conceding defeat. We bid them adios, and continued our walk around the campground.
For the initial camping trip of the year, the nine-day excursion can only be described as a success. There were no trailer disasters, thank goodness. We hiked a lot, saw a bunch of wildlife, and didn’t encounter any of the dreaded Tourons of Yellowstone that seem to be making the news lately. What could be better than that?