26 April 2021
Four trips to Yellowstone with a fifth anticipated in January 2022. At one time I didn’t think I would ever visit this national park and now it is the one that I have visited more times than any other except for the Great Smoky Mountains (which have always been within a day’s drive of most places I’ve lived). This is the story of my very first visit to Yellowstone.
In 1977, I graduated Ole Miss with a Masters of Science in Biology (Ole Miss didn’t offer a degree in botany although that was my concentration). I immediately started applying for jobs and took a summer job with the Youth Conservation Corps in Tishomingo State Park. However, that job was over in August. Fortunately, by that time, I got a response to a job posting from the Bureau of Land Management in Miles City, Montana. In previous posts I’ve alluded to my job with the Bureau. I was now sucking on the teat of the American taxpayer.
I had just moved into a rental house in Miles City when my friend Sara Hurdle from grad school asked if I was up for a trip to Yellowstone National Park. She had never been and since I was relatively close (about a five hour drive) she wanted to come visit me and tour Yellowstone. I really liked Sara and I liked the idea of seeing the park.
I’ve written how she was an older grad student at Ole Miss (her interest was entomology) her friendship with Andy Griffith, her public health career and how I would go on field trips with her. She was still in graduate school but over the years after her graduation, she became a very competent amateur entomologist, often sending specimens back to her mentor at Ole Miss, Paul Lago.
I told her to come on out. She flew into Miles City (God help her – the terminal was a trailer). I had just gotten over three days of food poisoning and was weak as a kitten but off we went to Yellowstone. It had to be December and there was about 12 inches of snow on the ground in Miles City. I had never driven any distance in snow but it was surprisingly easy when the snow was packed down on the highways.
I do remember rounding a corner on the way and and slamming on the breaks when the entire road blocked by a herd of sheep. We had to wait until the sheep herder moved them across the road before proceeding – only in Montana! We also stopped and helped pull someone out of a ditch. I had a truck with four wheel drive and a cable. It was a little touch and go but I managed to get them out of the ditch. You couldn’t not stop. They could have been on that stretch of road for days. This was the wilds of Montana where there was very little traffic.
On the way to our destination, we drove through Little Big Horn National Monument. This was my second visit to that place. My first visit had been earlier in the year and there’s something eerie about that place, even in the daylight.
Somehow we made it to Jackson, Wyoming. Just a note, it’s not Jackson Hole. Jackson Hole is the entire valley. The town in the valley of Jackson Hole is Jackson, Wyoming. We stayed at some motel there and we even had drinks at the Silver Dollar Bar.
She insisted we take downhill ski lessons at Jackson Hole. She also insisted on paying for everything. It was my first time on skis and after about an hour of instruction we were both exhausted – remember, I was still recovering from food poisoning. Sara never managed to right herself after “falling,” one of the first things they teach you. I managed to get up and back upright and even made it to the kiddie slope by T-bar and then ski back down without falling. It was a major victory on my part.
From Jackson, we took a bombardier into Yellowstone. The concept of tourists in Yellowstone in winter had not really taken off in 1977. Today, you have to make long range reservations to go into the park in winter. We had no reservations for hotels or for the bombardier but there was plenty of space and room for us in 1977.
We made it to the Upper Geyser Basin where you find Old Faithful. The Old Faithful Inn was closed for the winter and the only winter accommodations were a hostel near the Inn. It was pretty primitive. I had a single bed in the room that had two beds and there were community baths for men and women. There was a large community room with a microwave and a small stove and refrigerator (no one needed the frig – the snow bank outside worked well). Sara didn’t seem to mind it at all. She was a trooper. Anyone who would tromp around in the woods with me when I was on field trips at Ole Miss was not going to let poor accommodations stop her.
Today if you go to Yellowstone in winter, the Old Faithful Inn is still closed but there’s a modern Snow Lodge with all the amenities.
Sara wanted to try everything. There was no holding her back. I was a little reticent but she pushed me to do things I would not normally do. It was at Yellowstone I put on my first pair of snowshoes.
It was also the first time I’ve ever tried cross country skiing. It’s a lot harder than it looks. You really have to wax the skis. That was the first part of the lesson – how to wax them. Sara tried them but decided skiing was not her forte. I later decided cross country skiing was also not my forte. If you are keeping score, that’s three firsts: downhill skiing, snowshoeing, cross country skiing.
There was no restaurant at the hostel during our overnight in Yellowstone. If you wanted something to eat, you had to bring it in yourself. I forget what we ate that morning for breakfast but it was probably left over donuts from Jackson. Maybe the company running the bombardiers provided boxed lunches and breakfasts?
It was also the first time I saw Old Faithful erupt.
I’ve seen it erupt many times since then but the first time is always the best. To be honest, it’s not very impressive in winter. The white column of water and the white steam gets lost in the snowy background. In 1977, you could get a lot closer to the geyser than my future trips to the park.
The bombardier eventually returned us to Jackson and we then toured the National Elk Herd.
I’ve done the Elk herd tour twice. It was cold as all get out both times. It must be the wind sweeping down into the valley of Jackson Hole and if you do this, you better bundle up. We made it during feeding time and they were pushing bales of hay out for the herd while we were there.
Sara was such a unique person. She had a handful with rearing three sons but she must have done a great job since they were extremely deferential to her anytime I was around them with her. One ended up as a statewide elected official in Mississippi, another bought and ran several local Mississippi newspapers. I don’t know what happened to the third son but I suspect he became a lawyer like his older brother and his father.
Sara had a job teaching at Natchez Academy for a while and she made her students do insect collections – like I had to in high school. And just like in my high school, the most difficult specimen for her students to collect was a hog louse. You had to know someone who raised hogs – poorly.
She later moved to the Mississippi Gulf Coast and taught there a few years before retiring. After she passed, one of her sons sent me a couple of photographs she had taken of me over the years (see me netting insects for one).
I didn’t expend a penny for the entire trip. Sara paid for everything. I would have normally felt like a “kept” man but that was just the generosity of Sara. As another example, she gave me her entire insect collection one year for me to use at Broward College. I donated the collection to the college and it’s still in use there today.
All I did was show a little kindness to an atypical graduate student by taking her on field trips with me. We somehow clicked and remained friends for the rest of her life. It’s the little things in life that bring the greatest rewards.
For a video of snapshots of 1977 Yellowstone, click here.
Stay tuned and stay safe.
I enjoyed seeing your photographs of Yellowstone in winter and reading about your adventures. Summer is enough for me personally. Snow in July was too much for me.