Uh.... Those Grey Clouds Don't Exactly Bode Well....

All right, I'd just like to start off by saying that the arrangement of pictures at the end of this post is sure to look ghastly. Unfortunately, blogger doesn't really have an attractive layout that includes pictures and captions and whatnot, so we'll just have to go with what we've got.... But hey, you seriously can't go wrong with pictures of Joseph's Coat.... I think they'll hold their own, even if they are bizarrely placed and such.... Onward!


July 12, 2007 (Continued)

Zach pulled out his compass, set it against the map once more to verify the accuracy of the degree he’d fixed on the compass, and then headed off. It was definitely a learning experience, to watch a master of orienteering at work. He selected tree after tree along our determined route, and Tim and I fanned out behind him and created our own routes with respect to his.

I had envisioned this section to be difficult to navigate, since bushwhacking with full backpacks is rarely the proverbial picnic. However, the trees, though they blocked out nearly the entire sky, were were far enough apart that we could comfortably make our way across the initial flat area and then begin a gradual descent.

Our route intersected several game trails and eventually led us to a tiny mountain spring that musically trickled and cut a downward path through the grass. Zach detached his backpack, stuck his head under the water (the heat of the day was still a factor), and eventually took a drink. Boy howdy, the water tasted like a little bit o’ heaven!

I’d like to mention at this juncture that the spirits of the ManBearPigs were higher than they’d been and continued to increase with every step we took. We were seeking FAIRYLAND!!!! And couldn’t nothin’ be greater than that!

We’d been bushwhacking for about 45 minutes when we began to notice a break in the trees ahead of us. As we continued onwards, the walls of a canyon-like formation slowly became visible, and their reddish and golden hues could only lead us to one conclusion—we were staring, as I had so longed to do, at the formation of Joseph’s Coat Hot Springs.

We made our way to a vantage point atop a hill and retrieved our cameras to photographically commemorate our achievement. Whoa, what a thrill!! I’d seen the pictures of others, and now here I stood, taking my own. I could only imagine the excitement that would grip me and most likely be the cause of a heart attack if I trained my camera lens on the cones of Fairyland the following day....

We gradually descended the hill and followed the contours of Joseph’s Coat until we could make out Broad Creek below. As soon as we reached it, I stuck my hand into the water. It was a moderate temperature, neither too cold from elevation or too warm from thermal run-off.

As we had reached the canyon and travelled to the edges of the creek, grey clouds had begun to obscure the blue of the sky and form an impenetrable mass that hid the sun. Such a meteorological event could only foretell one thing....

We found the antlers on the island, right in the middle of Broad Creek and, not having any real idea as to the placement of the campsite, did as directed by Andi and started to follow the creek. The way involved a few fordings, and I followed Zach as he took his hiking boots off and nimbly crossed the creek twice before settling on the opposite side once more.

As we forded, the clouds let loose with a few drops of rain.... which became a few more drops of rain.... which became a drizzle.... which became a steady light rain. The water that splashed the bottoms of my rolled-up pant legs seemed almost inconsequential; if the creek didn’t do me in, a torrential downpour of rain surely would. I entertained only one thought: Bring it!






VERY TOP OF POST: Our first look at Joseph's Coat Hot Springs!
TOP: Zach and Tim along Broad Creek as we wend our way through the area
CENTRE: The colours and features of Joseph's Coat
BOTTOM: The Antlers of the Island

The Unlucky and Infatuated

July 12, 2007 (Continued yet again....)

We anxiously awaited Zach’s return, which came about 15 minutes later. He walked quickly down the trail and rejoined our group to answer my questions. Andrew was all right; he’d decided to follow a water route back to the Moss Creek campsite and had gone the way alone. He was now reunited with his party and eating lunch at the campsite picnic table.

I took the time to rant and say things like, “What an idiot to separate from the group and go alone through unknown parts!” before the most important question, the answer to which I’d wanted so badly to know for the past 2 days, reoccurred to me.

“Did they make it to Fairyland?” I asked, thinking I already knew the answer. Zach would have made sure to start his dialogue with that detail, had it been in the affirmative.

Zach shook his head and smiled. “No, they didn’t,” he said.

This information obviously required a full account of Andi’s travels, so we packed up our stuff again and headed toward their group.

Andi and Company sat round the picnic table, and I made sure to note the form of Andrew, who had indeed found his expedition members.

No prodding was necessary to obtain the whole story from Andi, who told of their adventures with help from Pilar, who showed off the network of scratches left by copious amounts of bushwhacking. It seemed that their group had elected to follow Broad Creek into the basin. The route had begun easily enough, and Andi described it as “following the Yellow Brick Road.” The rocks in the creek had appeared yellow and the water had been shallow and slow enough to be manageable.... until it gave way to the first of 4 waterfalls along its length. They made it to the second, and then, finding the way too treacherous (Pilar used phrases like “clung to rocks” and “almost died”), had deemed it wise to turn around. Andi calculated, upon their return to Canyon, that they’d been a scant ¼ mile from the basin when they stopped.

We expressed our condolences, and then I asked about the 4B1 campsite. We’d been told time and time again that it was ridiculously hard to find, and directions that I had elicited from Chase during the course of our conversation earlier that morning had produced a picture vastly different from the one conveyed by the backcountry rangers.

Andi assured us that it wasn’t hard to find, and advised us to locate the massive set of elk antlers on an island in the middle of Broad Creek, and from there to follow the creek. The campsite couldn’t be easily missed, since Andi had taken the time to upright the fallen marker along the creek.

“There are also little hot pools right by the campsite,” she said. “I can’t understand why they’d put the campsite so close to them, that doesn’t seem safe to me. You’ll want to be careful if you go to the bathroom at night!”

She also told how Steven hadn’t noticed the little pools till they’d been about to leave, and remarked that she couldn’t believe he hadn’t accidentally fallen into one.

So, with my mind forming new horrific visions of nighttime burns that would kill me before I could ever hope to reach the burn centre at Salt Lake (I’ve got an overactive imagination), I took my leave, along with my two companions. Zach had been eagerly anticipating the bushwhacking and orienteering on the day’s agenda and could no longer be denied the fun, so we left our companions for the vast and unknown spaces of the woods....

Whew-hoo! I CAN'T Bathe for Three Days!

July 12, 2007 (Continued)

Once past the first thermal area of our journey, we gradually headed into another section of open fields, and then the trail led away into forest. The way remained mostly flat, with a few little rises here and there. Zach, who’s in excellent shape, soon outstripped Tim and I, and I watched as his figure, complete with his walking stick (a gift from his father in infancy) disappeared around various bends. Tim and I took up the end, and only spoke when we caught Zach up once so we could all apply mosquito repellant. Sad day, they’d started to swarm the trail, though they were nothing compared to the clouds that had engulfed us weeks before at Shoshone Lake, and a year earlier along the Lake Thorofare Trail. Mosquitoes suck.... (no pun intended). My pal Ken informed me that it’s only the female of the species that bites and draws blood.... He followed up that statement with a few more choice comments regarding women.... Ah Ken....

Along the way, I kept expecting to pass Andi and her group, which was composed of herself, Pilar, Andrew, and Steven, the latter of which was Asian. (Her expedition later joked that he was the first Asian to ever see a waterfall in the backcountry.... I thought it was pretty funny....) They had announced their return time at Canyon to be 5 pm. Should they not appear by the designated time, their emergency contact was to inform rangers. (Our expedition had left similar instructions with Zach’s girlfriend Amy and our friend Jessica.)

However, we didn’t pass their group, and about 2 ½ hours later, roughly around noon, we came to Moss Creek. We weren’t entirely sure if that was indeed our location (Tim initially argued that the creek seemed to be moving in the wrong direction and I had no idea what I was looking at, other than it did indeed appear to be a creek of some sort—my sense of direction is non-existent), but after an extensive perusal of the map and a walk further up the trail, which yielded the Moss Creek campsite marker, we decided that we were in fact gazing upon THE Moss Creek.

Our location having been established, we set about eating lunch and filtering water with Zach’s handy-dandy water filter (which was really old and sometimes gave us issues, but which was massively useful anyway). A little wooden bridge ran over the creek and our lunch spot afforded us a view of a yellow field on either side, and then an uphill further along the trail that led back into the trees.

We made a leisurely affair of lunch, as we’d made splendid time on the first bit of our day’s route, and we’d been chillin’ along the banks of Moss Creek for about a half hour when Zach’s head perked up. Since our arrival, he’d been under the impression that he could hear voices and movement coming from the trees, but nothing materialised or produced a steady sound until we heard, “Andrew!” break over the murmuring of the creek.

“That must be Andi’s group!” I said, and our heads swivelled in the direction of the forest.

Shouts of, “Andrew!” continued to echo through the woods, and at any minute I expected to see Andi’s expedition break throught the edge of trees and into the field. No such event occurred, however, and it was a few more minutes before we heard the calls for Andrew begin anew.

Zach got to his feet, jumped over the creek, and started off in the direction of the voices. He was soon lost to Tim and I, and disappeared among the trees.

“You don’t think Andrew died, do you?” I nervously asked Tim, but Tim had no more an idea of the current situation than did I. It seemed that our best course of action was to remain along the creek, rather than join the search and risk becoming lost ourselves.........

TOP: Zach and Tim eating lunch at Moss Creek

BOTTOM: Moss Creek, our first backcountry landmark!

The Keepers of the Hot Pools

July 12, 2007 (continued)

We departed from Canyon Village shortly after 9:00 am that morning. We piled into Zach’s hippie van (that van was brilliant, it had no seats in the back, which was basically just a raised platform made out of wood.... I thoroughly enjoyed riding in it, and he’d had a massively awesome time road-tripping and living out of it) and pulled out of the service road, heading on the Canyon-Lake road. Zach stuck his head out the window and performed his “We’re leaving Canyon!” victory howl and honked the hippie van horn. Holy cow, we were seriously on our way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told him that if we were successful in our quest for Fairyland, he'd have to honk the horn again and howl even louder. Zach grinned and agreed.

The trip was obviously not very long.... which was probably a good thing, cos a long drive back on the 3rd day would not have been loads of fun. We had everything we needed.... Nalgenes filled with water, food to last 3 days, clothes, tent, assorted camping equipment and, most importantly, the topo map, compass, and GPS. However, the GPS would become an inconsequential addition, as the lady rangers had given us the wrong coordinates anyway and we had no coordinate for Fairyland. And what kind of loser seeks Fairyland with a GPS unit anyway?! Seriously, I’ll go with the good ol’ fashioned topo map and compass any day, it makes everything seem much more authentic and the victory all the sweeter. My mother, upon learning that we’d headed into the backcountry armed only with those implements and no real way to contact help if someone fell into peril, freaked out and lectured me, demanding to know if I thought I was some kind of 18th century trailblazer. I assured her that I had no such aspirations.... though that’d be pretty cool, I can’t lie.

We reached the trailhead (the one that leads to Wapiti Lake) in short order, put our backpacks on, locked up the hippie van, and started the long and arduous trek down Wapiti Lake Trail (the only part of the journey to not consist of our own route-making).

The trail begins in a lovely field that stretched out for miles that morning until it disappeared into the blue horizon. Buffalo were chillin’ in a massive herd over the hills to our right, and the sun shown down and cast the yellows of the field into a deeper shade of gold. It also beat down on us, and it wasn’t long before I developed a nasty case of Swack (sweaty back.... Sorry, that might be too much info....)

We were quiet for about the first 15 minutes of the trail, since it seemed to lend itself to introspection rather than conversation. The first massive hills were climbed and subsequently descended, until we reached a low-lying relatively flat area. I glanced over my shoulder and noted the height of the hill we had just left behind. Yep, it was gonna suck to climb that thing at the end of our 3-day sojourn. But hey, where’s the fun without a test of endurance?

Conversation was eventually started when Zach, who was leading our fearless trio (which, as I’ve alluded to in several posts, as well as in the title of this blog, was christened the ManBearPig Expedition—my idea, after a South Park episode, of course....), mentioned the lack of conversation. Indeed.

From our position along the trail, we could make out the distinct smell of sulphur which accompanies most backcountry geothermal areas. I was pretty psyched, and Tim (who loves geothermal stuff like I do, and originally wanted to work at Old Faithful so he could forever be around hot pools and geysers) and I talked about various backcountry thermal areas we’d visited. My favourite, by far up to that point, was the Gibbon Geyser Basin, more specifically the Sylvan Springs area. The hot pools in that area are ridiculously varied in colour and shape, and a massive mud volcano projects mud noisily against its walls. I love to think that even now, as I sit 10 hours away in front of a computer, the mud is still loudly churning and boiling. Brilliant!

So Tim and I continued to chat, and eventually to look through the trees bordering the trail cos the thermal area was now evident on either side. As we made our way along the trail, the trees thinned out until the trail itself faded away into the actual thermal area. I recognised pieces of it as the scene following our buffalo charge of the previous year. [During our first week, I’d stupidly followed a group of guys who ventured too close to a buffalo, which ended up giving us a warning charge. Upon finding ourselves separated from the main group, we stumbled on the very thermal area that our expedition now crossed.]

The most interesting parts of our journey through the thermal area were our repeated buffalo encounters. I loved it, the trees once more closed over certain areas of the trail, creating little pockets of the thermal area alongside us. In each pocket stood a buffalo, as though keeping guard of certain treasures they’d sworn to protect. They didn’t charge or even look perturbed as we passed; they merely watched and seemed to give a slight nod.

Compass? Check. Topo Map? Check. Washer? Uh....

JULY 12, 2007

Intense amounts of bushwhacking.... A campsite reputed to be the hardest in the park to find.... Loads more bushwhacking the following day.... A freaky high cliff and distinctly brilliant vantage point from a rock outcropping christened “The Promontory”.... And finally, the goal: A rare and almost seldom visited geothermal area, far from the eyes and potentially destructive hands of most Yellowstone sightseers. We could only be preparing to visit one place: Fairyland.

The very thought of one day standing in that precise location had resulted in several sleepless nights and week upon week of preparation. I’d first discussed the idea with my pal Zach toward the beginning of our summer stay in Canyon Village. He’d been chillin’ late one night (as he worked shifts from 10 pm-2 am) and I’d told the story of Geyser Gary and of the famous basin. Zach, who immensely loves hiking and the thrill of discovery, was all for the journey. He and I had become backpacking companions, as we had the same days off and a shared love of the backcountry. Of course, he was the more ambitious of the two of us and backpacked more than I did, and he was also the more experienced with route-making, by far. As a kid, his parents had dropped him off in random places and he’d used a compass and topo map to find his way back home.... Yay for lack of television and trusting parents! He claimed to have gotten lost only once, and also said that he’d later taught a class on orienteering. Perfecto.

The expertise of Zach was really the first thing to trigger a newfound belief in our abilities. Fairyland, which had basically been a kind of, “Heck yeah, I’m all for it!.... maybe in 2 years, when I’m not so entirely incompetent and easily targeted by bears in the backcountry....” soon took on real proportions. Dude, it was possible.

We spent about 2 weeks really putting our preparations into place. We talked to Jesse, a cook in Canyon and fellow employee who’d been to the basin, and he drew us a map and imparted some useful directions. I also had the good fortune to talk to Chase, another guy who’d been to Fairyland a few times. That conversation was kind of interesting.... I went to attempt to eat something before we left, and was queasily surveying the cereal in front of me (cos I was ridiculously hyped up and contemplating my death in the event that I goofed and plummeted to a bloody demise.... Yeah, I’m a bit morbid, I’ll admit it....), when I saw him enter the EDR (employee dining room.... or eventual death room, if you prefer....). I allowed him time to get his food, and then accosted him as soon as he’d taken his place. I proceeded to introduce myself, and then said, “I hear you’ve been to Fairyland. We’re leaving to find it today.” He took one look at me and said, “You’ll never make it.” Ah sh**, why not?! I thought that maybe something horrible had happened, like there was more debris along the cliff wall or something. That wouldn’t bode well.... (I was seriously paranoid about the cliff descent, if you couldn’t tell....) As I sat contemplating new scenarios involving different manners of death, Chase continued with, “You’ve got to be prepared.” I jumped at that, and said, “We’ve got a compass, a topo map of the area, and GPS coordinates to the campsite.” He then started to look a bit more impressed, and I eventually started throwing out names of other backcountry geothermal areas I’d visited, to make myself sound more credible instead of coming off as some silly little kid with a death wish.

Chase and I struck up a quick friendship (or at least he was more willing to talk), and he gave me further directions and advised us to stay on higher ground until the last possible minute. I think it was the Higher Ground Approach that led to our success....

*A little side story—
Andi, one of our fellow housekeepers, wanted desperately to find Fairyland this summer and organised two expeditions of her own. However, she was successful in neither of her attempts, which was really too bad. Her first expedition left 2 days before ours, and we were slated to meet their group on their return trip out from 4B1, the backcountry campsite in Joseph’s Coat Hot Springs. I think she had difficulties because they didn’t keep to higher ground either time.... They followed Broad Creek their first go-round, but eventually had to turn round cos the waterfalls along the route were ridiculously difficult to maneuver. The second time she tried another route, but also ended up having issues. It just means she’ll have to come back to Yellowstone again and try once more for the immense brilliance of descending into the basin.... Good luck, Andi, when you have another go!

All righty then, back to the main narrative….

I parted from Chase, keeping his advice in mind, and went to find Zach and also Tim. Tim had decided only the night before to make another addition to our expedition. Eva had planned to go, but ended up deciding against making the trip. She agreed to switch work days with Tim, thus freeing him to go along with us. He was pretty excited, as were Zach and I. I tell ya what, there’s nothing so wonderful as heading off into the Yellowstone backcountry to find places far off the beaten path.

Expedition ManBearPig, Ready for Take-off! Or Hike-off, in this Case....

JULY 11, 2007 (Taken from an actual journal entry)

In the tradition of others before me (chiefly among them Geyser Gary, Wendy, and possibly other Loons....), I am endeavouring to record our adventurous and ghastily daring trek to FAIRYLAND BASIN. Heck yeah! We leave tomorrow around 9:00 am if all goes well.... Indeed. The members of our brilliant expedition include myself, (obviously....) a C-Area housekeeper, Zach Davies, a Resident Coordinator here in Grizzly Dorm, and Tim Moloney, a fellow C-Area housekeeper. We three are employees in Canyon Village, YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK!, and have the immense pleasure of working for Xanterra Parks and Resorts. Yeah, good for a year… or for that dreaded career, if one really sucks at life and can only obtain solid employment mitering beds for a living. The horror.... Anyway.... Eva, my awesome roommate, was supposed to come but has sadly opted out. So have loads of other people, like the lazy Shane, and Nick, who decided 2 days ago that he was goin’ to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I’m ridiculously psyched to get out there and see what’s what. I recall the night that I first became interested.... and couldn’t sleep cos Geyser Gary’s account had me riveted. Nice…

Zach and I got the coordinates for 4B1 yesterday, and it was surprisingly easy. Last year the old lady backcountry ranger freaked out at the mention of Fairyland, told us about a guy who got attacked by a bear in the canyon, and declined to comment further. Yay.... That's definitely heartening....

I actually just looked at Geyser Gary’s account and pictures 2ish minutes ago (Canyon employee dorms sadly have internet now) and took another look at that cliff that needs to be descended.... Yeah, pretty sure it’s the stuff of nightmares to a 5’2” chick afraid of heights. But it’s all good. Risking death is totally worth it, cos if Death is avoided, FAIRYLAND is the reward, and I’d be all right with that. During a drive through Hayden Valley tonight, it suddenly hit me that I’ll be attempting Fairyland tomorrow. Sweet!! And never mind all those horror stories that describe guys watching their best friends plummet 4,000 feet down the sheer side of a cliff. I’m just not gonna think about stuff like that.... Instead, I shall drift asleep to visions of dormant and incredibly rare and brilliant geothermal areas....

FAIRYLAND, HERE WE COME!!

So then.... Let's go to FAIRYLAND!!!!, shall we?

It has recently come to my attention, through the comments left by a few individuals, that I'm posting like a politician, i.e. making empty promises and further putting off my delightful and expectant Readers, who wish only to read an account of Fairyland. As the author of the tale, who am I to deny the desires of my Readership? Yeah, that's what I thought too.... So, in order to make amends, I shall begin the posting tonight. How does that work for y'all? Nice....

I've gotten some of it written, but certainly not all, and the scanner issues still prevent me from having the majority of the Fairyland pictures uploaded to a computer where I can access them. However, trouble yourselves not! I shall remedy the problem in short order.... and then we'll have a most brilliant time creating a story with accompanying pictures. Huzzah!

So, the first post will be taken from a journal entry I wrote the night before we left. It's the only such Fairyland entry I've got, and the rest will be written in 1st person past tense, cos I think that's most fitting (and it's my favourite format to use....). Indeed.

So then.... If you're all ready, so am I. Let the adventures of the ManBearPig Expedition begin!