The Next Chapter
I’m writing from Bozeman, in my little apartment, with a DSL and, wonder of wonders, indoor plumbing. With the oncoming snows, temperatures in the 20s each night, and shortening days that required me to walk Bubba in the dark in order to make it in to the hotel for my 6:15AM shift, I felt that we’d overstayed our welcome. Bubba reinforced that. The last week in the park, he was desperate to get out of the camper each time I opened the door.
With my apologies to Melissa, the last two weeks were about mental pictures I wanted to capture, so I left the camera at home and wandered.
*A bull elk standing in the clearing opposite the camper at 6:30 in the morning. As the sun began to rise, he stood motionless in the grassy strip, listening to the still of the dawn. A scent must have caught his attention. He lifted his head and repeatedly bugled: a challenge to competitors? A siren song to nearby cows? Or just the powerful message in his genes?
*A close encounter with a porcupine during one of our pre-dawn strolls. Apparently the population of these thorny little guys was decimated by the 1988 fires and the population has been slow to recover. He was trying to hide from us under a speed limit sign in the campground. Bubba was entranced, but held at a distance.
*An otter frolicking and fishing on the lake shore. It’s hard not to anthropomorphize these little guys. They appear to delight in play.
*The harlequin ducks back at LeHardy Rapids, along with the dippers, wonderful little birds. They are pretty drab in their appearance, but great to watch, enthusiastically bobbing their heads, their whole bodies under the water looking for a tasty treat.
* Our favorite little grizzly, a frequent visitor to my campsite during these summer months. She was one of the two subadults booted out by Mom during my early days in the park. This little blonde female was showing the signs of becoming a problem bear. For no apparent reason she developed a fascination with sewer hoses on campers, and repeatedly broke into them. The Park Service began to keep a rap sheet on her, with entries that read like this: “small subadult grizzly sighted in the Lake Employee RV Park, breaking into sewer.” “small subadult blonde grizzly responsible for causing a bear jam at Fishing Bridge.” A lot of it read like blame the victim; it was hardly her fault that traffic stopped to watch her. A month ago, they decided enough was enough. She was becoming way too habituated to humans and showed no signs of fear. They decided to relocate her to the southeast arm of the Lake, the remotest region, farthest from roads, in the lower 48 states, according to its reputation. The thought was that she could scarcely get into trouble there. They trapped her and transported her about 30 miles by boat. She was back in 36 hours! In my last days, she was frequenting the Elephant Back area eating white bark pine nuts.
*The stars! I’ve never seen such clarity in the heavens even in the middle of the Atlantic. I watched the parade of the seasons in the night sky, saw the moon bright orange in the smoky fire skies, and watched Orion, winter’s hunter, climb higher in the night sky each morning as I got ready to leave.
I won’t miss the work I did for the park concessionaire. Although I formed some wonderful relationships with guests and co-workers alike, the company was unprofessional to the extreme in its dealings with guests and employees. I will miss the opportunities I had to volunteer with the Park Service, and will miss the opportunity to continue to share what I learned of the park with my friends. And I will look forward to many returns to this incredible place. We are fortunate that a foresighted government preserved this place in perpetuity. I need to do my part, whatever that may turn out to be, to ensure that a less foresighted government does not undermine the protection of this unique resource, and commits to it the resources it merits.
