by Linda Mackay
The ground is bleached varying shades of gray and white, making the land look like it’s covered in snow year round. The dark gray discoloration of sulfur then covers part of the ground like black water moving over the white land. There is little, if any, ground vegetation. Any rocks not bleached white, show the yellow and black stains of sulfur, while the ground emits the smell of rotten eggs.
As a geologist and geophysicist I’m aware of the high volume of gas filtering up through the soil emitting about 277 metric tons of CO2 every day. Even though Alluvium Creek flows cold out of the area, the gas concentration is high enough to create bubbles making it appear to be boiling. The high amount of CO2 rising from the water strips the heavy oxygen from the water and creates an unusual chemistry in it.
The forested area outside the main basin also retains the same winter landscape year round. Even after the snow melts, the ground refuses to yield any green vegetation; it remains white yet still provides enough nutrients for trees to grow in the Star Trek moonscape soil.
Here is where I refuse to camp. And here is where we set up our tents.
My previous refusal to camp in the basin is probably an irrational fear. There are actually a couple of designated backcountry campsites here. Neither was in use at the moment. Considering our situation, and the odds someone would probably claim those sites later, Mac set up a hidden camp. With four geologists in the group it was easy to find a safe campsite that was both hidden off-trail, and not damaging any fragile ground. This was also a bear management area where off-trail travel was prohibited until mid-July. Hopefully, this kept others from discovering us, and the rangers were too busy with the explosion to worry about illegal campers.
Frank called for a cold camp to keep our location secret. It meant a night without the benefit of smoke to keep the mosquitos at bay, fire to keep our feet warm from the cold summer breeze and worst of all, it meant freeze dried food over a small butane camp stove.
This time of year bears were frequenting the area around the basin. The fire would’ve been an added deterrent. Instead, we were left with Frank’s firm conviction that peeing around the perimeter of camp before going to bed keeps bears away. It was not exactly a question I could ask a bear for verification. Communicating with them is one thing, exchanging camping tips was not in my prevue, and I suspect not in theirs either.
“How many items are there in a grizzly’s diet?” Todd was back at the trivia game.
“266!” Four voices echoed around camp.
“I know you goofballs knew. Thanks for ruining it for Mac.”
“I suppose someone had a big grant to count those 266 things?” Mac asked.
“Don’t knock it, till your paycheck depends on it,” Amanda said. “Although, it’s a mystery how some of those huge grants make my paycheck look like a teenage babysitter’s.”
“And you’re paying taxes and they aren’t,” Frank said.
“Jorie, I want my salary in cash from now on, or I’m going to take up babysitting.”
“Oh please girlfriend,” Todd said. “First time you had to change a two-year-old’s poopy diaper you’d be out the door.”
“Would not.”
“Your nephew pooped in your mom’s pool and you threw up.”
“That’s different,” Amanda said. “I was in the pool.”
Dad laughed. “You do know what’s in all these lakes and rivers?”
“She wasn’t upset about being in the pool, she was upset because the poo was explosive and splashed into the vodka tonic she was holding on her floaty toy.”
“Oh yuck!” I might not be a vomit comet, but that would certainly ruin my afternoon.
“You’re probably right,” Amanda pulled a small airline size, plastic bottle of coconut vodka from her pack and slammed it, “I better stick to rocks and paying Uncle Sam.”
“Excuse me everyone, I’m going to find a log with a view.” Which was code for I needed to use the bathroom. There was nothing nicer in the backcountry than finding a log at the right height you could hang your butt over and enjoy a relaxing poop.
I didn’t want to get too far from camp, and was lucky to quickly find a downed lodgepole pine. It was a little too high off the ground, but the view was superb. I could see dark clouds in the distance over Yellowstone Lake, and with the cold breeze was guessing the temperature would plunge into the mid-20s overnight.
Business completed, I pushed myself off the log. Instead of my feet hitting the ground, I was jerked backwards and flipped sideways. While swinging my feet, I must have gotten my pants hooked on a broken branch. My motion to jump off the log twisted my pants and me in a knot. I tried to reach the branch to unhook it, but the twisted pants and my body position made it impossible.
This is why you never travel alone in the backcountry.
Maybe not the main reason, but a damn good one.
I had changed out of my jeans and was wearing my comfy “eating pants,” the ones I would hang in a tree in a bear proof bag after dinner to keep the smell of food away from my tent. We all did it. Only problem…we all didn’t get trapped in our pants when a poop went south.
My knife was hooked to my jeans, so I had no way to cut myself out of the tangled pants, and they were twisted too tight to just slip out of them. Both my feet dangling in the air, I had no other options.
“HELP!” This was not going to end well.
“Holy sleeping bats,” Todd said. “Her butt’s upside-down naked in the wind.”
“Nice target for my slingshot.”
“I guess this would be one of the times I hope you listened to your Mom when she told you to always wear clean underwear?” Todd asked me.
“Don’t be so hard on her,” Frank said. “It’s not nice to make her the butt of your jokes.”
“Hang on, I’m going to lift you off the branch.” Mac hooked one arm around my stomach and lifted me like I was a rag doll. “You okay?”
“Do I look fine?”
“You look both pissed and beautiful to me.”
“Hey Jorie,” Todd said. “You need help pulling those pants up?”
“Next trip we better bring some Depends so she never has to leave camp,” Amanda said.
It’s easy to quickly pull up a pair of stretchy pants and take off chasing two snot-nosed punks. It’s much harder to be over ten years older, and ten years more out of shape and catch them.
I could hear Dad, Frank, and Mac cheering me on.
“Get ‘em, Jorie.”
“That’s my baby girl.”
“Grab some T. Forget the A.”
I may not have the youthful advantage, but I did have a plan. I turned right, ran back to camp and stole all their socks. May sound harmless, unless you’ve ever tried to put your cowboy boots on without them, and then be forced to ride that way all day.
Mac arrived in camp first and saw me leaving Todd’s tent. “Whatcha got there?”
“Revenge.”
“Need an accomplice?
“Want to hide these in your pack?” I held up the socks.
“I’d be happy to.”
Todd arrived back in camp and ran to the camp stove. “With all the excitement, I left this batch of stew on the stove. Don’t think we’ll be eating this sticky mess.”
Amanda looked at the pot. “I’m not sure we’ll be using this pot again.”
“I’ve got a secret way to deal with that.” Dad took the pot from Amanda.
“Another secret, Dad?”
“Man has to be careful about the information he divulges.”
“I thought man was supposed to pass down his knowledge to his children.”
“All in good time, baby girl.”
Forced to use a small camp stove and small pot it took longer to cook meals for six people. Todd worked his magic and even stirred up freeze-dried cherry cobbler for dessert. We passed the pot around with the cobbler, each getting a small helping to finish off the lamb stew. I absolutely can’t stand lamb. I don’t understand why an
yone would freeze-dry lamb; reconstituted it tasted like the stirrup on my saddle.
I know how that stirrup tastes since I bit down on it once while Dad pulled porcupine quills out of my butt. And yes, it was another backcountry pooping disaster. Trust me, if I could make these trips without using the bathroom I would. At least half my disasters seem to occur while squatting in the woods. I’m not going to analyze that, as I’m sure it wouldn’t bode well for my sanity. Besides, I’m sure a lot of people have squatted over a porcupine to relieve their bowels.
“Listen up everyone.” Dad said passing the last of the cobbler to Todd. “Tomorrow we search for the launch sight.”
Launch sight! Murder! I’m in the freaking Twilight Zone.
“I’ll ride caboose, and look for bad guys,” Todd said. Riding caboose means you are riding last in a horse pack train. I had my doubts Mac would let Todd ride caboose.
“The only one riding caboose will be Frank,” Mac said. “I’ll be in the lead with Joe, the rest of you can sandwich meat anyway you like.”
Amanda pulled her hair back and tied it with a ribbon. “I don’t think he has a lot of faith in his troops.”
“Batman didn’t have faith in Robin till he proved himself,” Todd said.
“Okay Wonder Twins, listen up.” Mac ran his hand through his hair, bits of dust and leaves fell to the ground.
“Told you not to ride without your hat,” Todd said.
“What?” Mac kept rubbing his head.
“Your hat.” Todd twirled his in the air. “It protects you from all kinds of things, like all those bugs that you’re shaking out of your hair.”
Mac vigorously rubbed his head. “Bugs?”
“Yep, they’ll burrow into your scalp and by tomorrow itch like crazy.”
Mac looked around and saw the rest of us smiling. “You’re full of shit.”
Frank laughed. “He may be, but he’s right about wearing your hat.”
“He’s also right about a lot of other things, so you might show a little more respect to the people who know this place better than you.” Amanda stomped around in circles, flinging her arms back and forth. “I can guarantee out here we’ll save your ass more times than you’ll save ours Mr. Spy Man. So back-off treating my peeps like tag-along extras.”
Amanda pulled the slingshot out of her pocket, fired an almond from the trail mix she’d been munching and hit Mac’s nipple through his shirt. “Any questions?”
“Son, I’d apologize if I were you,” Dad said. “Anything else could be dangerous to your health.”
“I’ve seen her put the eye out of a marauding squirrel attempting to steal eggs from a robin’s nest,” Todd said.
Mac rubbed his nipple, which was one of the sexiest things I’d seen in a long time. I really needed to get out more. “I apologize if you think I doubt your ability. But I still need Frank at the rear. He’s carrying a long-range rifle and your preferred weapon is a slingshot.” Mac said trying to appease Amanda.
Without a word Amanda stomped to our tent. The mosquitos were forming battle lines and we were all about to become victims. While I was not looking forward to Amanda continuing to rant in the confined space of our tent, it was still better than doing battle with mosquitos.
“Guess it’s time to call it a night.” I brushed off my pants. “Sleep well.”
“You too, baby girl.”
Mac took hold of my arm. “Looks like you got out of singing, but I still expect you to honor the other half of the bet.”
“Count on it.” I didn’t know whether to be happy I wasn’t singing and shaking my butt, or to be worried what he had planned for paying off the other half of the bet.
“We’re going to talk over a few things then get some sleep,” Mac said.
I didn’t care what the men were planning. All but Special Forces knew the geeks could take care of ourselves in the backcountry. He’d assumed from the moment we left the ranch that he and Frank were the tough guys and the rest of us were nuisance rock people he had to put up with. Special Forces may have worked for the PGA, AAA, or ASPCA, but I was raised in these mountains. I’d been in snowstorms looking for lost calves, defended myself against a charging grizzly, and I could fire a bow and arrow with as much accuracy as he could his pistol.
On the open range your personal stats didn’t matter. If you could do the job you got the respect, if not you were left behind to make cookies and babysit Grampa Nus. Neither held any interest for me, so I was damn sure I could Cowboy-up.
I unzipped the tent to find Amanda sitting cross-legged, totally naked meditating on her sleeping bag. The view was far more revealing than mine had been on the log. “Geez, Manny you could have at least left your panties on.”
“I wasn’t wearing any.”
“Of course you weren’t.”
“I need to zen out.”
“Too bad you couldn’t be out a little less while zenning.”
“Ohmmmm.”
Maybe Mac is right about this bunch. I seriously doubt any of his army buddies meditated naked on their sleeping bags in the middle of night maneuvers in Iraq. At least it would be warmer there. My tent thermometer read 32 degrees. The clothes I wore while eating dinner were now hung 200 yards away in a tree. I burrowed in my sleeping bag in a ratty pair of sweats and t-shirt, zipped up my bag and rolled over.
“Ohmmmm.”
“How long do you intend to ohm?”
“Until I’m relaxed.”
“I’m sleeping in Todd’s tent tomorrow night, you’re a pain in the ass.” Now I needed to zen out. “We have no idea how many innocent people were killed to get at the President. And you’re pissed because of your position in the pack train. Stop being a fucking Princess and do what you’re asked.”
“You tell her, girlfriend.” Todd yelled from his tent.
The wolves howled next.
Not just a couple: more wolves were communicating at once than I’d ever heard. This was behavior that would freak out wolf biologists and make them wet themselves with excitement. Packs all across the eco-system were relaying messages. It was like Native Americans two hundred years ago communicating with smoke signals to brothers all over the west.
“What’s going on?” Dad stuck his head in my tent. “Good lord Amanda, put some clothes on.”
“I don’t know.” I grabbed the sides of my head with both hands. “There’s so much noise in my head I can’t understand any of it.”
Dad zipped the tent closed. “Do not look in there, you’ll go blind.”
“Can you focus in on one animal?” Mac asked from outside the tent.
“I’ll try. I’ve never dealt with this much noise.”
“Ohmmm.”
“Shut-up.” The others said in unison.
“You people are too tense. You should try meditating.”
“If you don’t meditate without making any noise, you’re going to be meditating in the freezing cold creek,” Dad said.
The human noise stopped, but the howls grew louder and more voices joined in. A coyote howled from the basin. “Dad.”
“I’m listening.”
“Do you hear that?”
“Sounds like something moving quickly.”
“I think its moose,” I said.
“I’m on it.” Todd turned on his flashlight and shone it around our camp.
The roar of a mountain lion close by had Amanda unzipping our tent, wrapping the sleeping bag around her and stumbling into Frank’s arms. “Stand behind me,” Frank said.
I struggled to unzip my bag and managed to get the zipper stuck tighter. Finally making it outside, I saw everyone but Amanda poised firearm in one hand, flashlight shining in the other.
“So much for being stealth,” I said.
I could see Mac looking at me. “I take it your pipeline is down at the moment?”
“Completely. I don’t think I could communicate with a chipmunk right now.”
The second roar came from further down the Basin
, followed by a third and fourth. In the distance we could hear elk moving. It sounded like cattle stampeding, as they ran through the meadow into the cover of trees and willows.
“I swear I will pee myself if a bear comes running through camp next.” Todd said shining his flashlight into the eerie light in the Basin.
“If I no longer have to be quiet, can I ask what the heck is going on?” Amanda shone her flashlight into Mac eyes.
“Turn that off!”
“Everyone turn off your flashlights,” Frank added.
We turned them off as the sound of a helicopter moved toward us from the north. “What are they doing flying on a moonless night?” Dad asked.
“Everyone in your tents and lie down,” Mac said. “They can fly because they have night vision and I guarantee they have thermal imagery. So pretend to be asleep.”
“I bet they have heat seeking missiles too.” Todd said zipping up his tent.
“Shut your missile,” Amanda said.
The whir of the helicopter rotors got louder and louder until my chest vibrated from the noise. How low were these guys?
The noise moved away as fast as it came, and I realized I’d been holding my breath. No one made a sound or moved. The voices of the animals had also quieted. I tried to see Amanda but it was so dark even right next to her she was as good as invisible. I reached out and took her hand. She squeezed mine. There are so many things to frighten you in the backcountry, but to me the scariest of all is a moonless night with cloudy skies. It was like being locked in a black box with no holes. The dark so encompassing you could easily feel like you couldn’t breathe and begin to panic.
I’d heard of an old trapper who decades ago got drunk and woke in the middle of one of those nights. He was so disoriented that he ran screaming out of his tent and off the edge of the cliff into the river far below and died. Next morning his companions packed up and left the Thorofare, vowing never to return again.
“Everyone okay?” Mac asked from his tent.
We were all rattled but fine.
“I think we’re good to go for tonight,” Mac said. “Jorie, you have any reading on the animals?”
“Nothing in my head at all.”
The Wonder Twins giggled.
