Day Four of the Hike

We made it into Yellowstone the night before, driven by relentless mosquitoes.

 I tried burning spruce boughs for smoke cover but only the evening temperature drop would slow them down at all. When the evening cold came in, so did a bear. It shuffled around and snorted and decided the tent of awful smelling humanity was not worth disturbing. We followed a confusing trail down a beautiful gentle slope into the prairie grass hill sides of Buffalo Plateau. Bison turds everywhere.

Following Hurricane Creek down into the valley, I got an idea of the immensity of the land I was in. Nearly 40 miles of walking before encountering our first humans. I could picture pronghorn and bison in the expansive grassland, alas, they weren't there.

 We encountered the first salamanders of the trip in a pond in that same grassland. I took my first river rinse off. This was the first day of weather conducive to that sort of basic hygiene. I relaxed in the sun for less than thirty minutes before going back to meet up with Angie.

 Her blisters were horrific. She's a medical professional specializing in skin, so the reasonable part of my mind told me she knew how to take care of herself. However, the fearful part of me was worried sick that the blisters would incapacitate her. I shouldn't have worried, she seemed unhindered by it. I was grateful I didn't have a similar problem, I just don't think I could have carried on. We filled our water bags and trudged back up north, uphill. The mosquitoes were out and we had to be conservative with our repellent. It was too hot for more layers to block them from my skin, so I developed a "cow inspired" arm swing to swat them off my shoulders while I raced up the other side of Hurricane Creek. I rhythmically switched at my body with my bandana functioning as the hair on the end of a cow's tail. I was really booking it and even though Angie was hurrying to avoid mosquitoes just like I was, my long legs propelled me about ten minutes ahead. I was going insane. Hour after hour of swatting and swelling and itching. The bites only really affected my hands, eyelids, and should blades. I started meditating while walking to come to terms with the agony somehow. Bear. Across the creek, fifty yards away was my first grizzly. He was huge and he was peacefully foraging, heading downstream across the creek. I was next to an eight foot tall rock, so I climbed it to watch mister bear eat roots. I unconsciously decided not to snap a photo. I guess I wanted to be "totally in the moment." I watched him eat and I felt like I was a part of that particular ecosystem. I just wasn't ready to be a permanent part.