CDT: Yellowstone National Park

I loved the Yellowstone section. It’s so unique with all its geysers, hot springs, bubbling pools, colors and patterns. Where else do you hike right through this? Lakes and a daily meal are topping all of this off. As we stand here, marveling at Yellowstone’s surreal landscape, it’s easy to forget that we’re on top of a super volcano, waiting for its moment to make us all a footnote in history. In the meantime, Ryan’s stomach has decided to contribute its own eruption to the park’s charm. His diarrhea, reminiscent of bubbling mud pools and geysers, remind us that nature’s grandeur isn’t the only thing that can be volatile around here. If only his digestive system were as predictable as Old Faithful!

Ryan gets sick, just the next morning after arriving in Island Park. We’re not sure what it is, but the incubation time wasn’t long enough to get infected by other people. Maybe water? First, he just feels weak and tired, then comes the fever, and he sleeps all day, next day, diarrhea strikes and lasts for a few rough days. At least, it’s a good timing as we have two days to kill before Ryan’s family for a visit, and we are planning to tour Yellowstone National Park as regular tourists with them. It gives him some time to rest while I’m doing the best I can to take care of everything else.

Exploring Yellowstone National Park as a tourist

We spend a long day in Yellowstone National Park but packed with awe-inspiring sights. It makes me so happy to be able to see a lot more than we would be able to as hikers on the CDT as the trail only skirts a small part of the National Park. We start with the Grand Prismatic Spring, a sight I’d been captivated by since childhood when I saw a photo. I loved everything about volcanoes and earthquakes, my favorite pages in my children’s encyclopedia. Finally being able to see this with my own eyes is a dream come true, a moment of pure, colorful magic.

While blending in with the tourists, we unexpectedly run into Spirit Kick, Pole and Chef that hitchhiked to see this spectacular part of the National Park. We can treat them to bananas and blueberries. The funny thing is, now that we’re all clean and showered, we can smell them badly after them hiking for only two days. This only gives us a very rough Idea of how badly we smell after 7 days on trail to other people. We don’t smell it that much ourselves, but it must be very offensive. The reality check is both hilarious and horrifying.

We then get lucky and witness the Beehive geyser erupt, which is a very unpredictable one. The time between eruptions can be between hours and up to 10 days. But when it goes off, it shoots hot water 200 feet into the air for a full five minutes. Just as we arrive, the indicator vent starts to bubble, signaling an eruption within the next 30 minutes. And it really does, with us having seats on the bench just in front of it. It’s awesome, we get some spray of surprisingly cold water on our skin. It shoots out so strong that it blocks the blistering sun for the time of the eruption, giving us some shade in the relentless heat of today. Honestly, I can’t understand why most people visit this park in the summer — there’s hardly any shade around the geothermal areas, and it gets unbearably hot.

The eruption stops just right in time for us to head over to Old Faithful for its much more predictable eruption (+/- 10 minutes). The visitor center at Old Faithful Village is a madhouse, full-blown muggle crowds. I’m glad I got some time to acclimatize to all these people while being in Island Park where the supermarket is kind of a madhouse, too. As Island Park is one of the close by places to stay close to the Park, it gets quite a share of tourists.

We marvel at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone with its colossal waterfall and the canyon’s vibrant, colorful rock walls. Then, we drive out to Mammoth Hot Springs where terraces are formed. We spend the evening with wildlife-watching in Hayden Valley, where bison roam in herds close to the road, occasionally crossing without a care for the cars. A picturesque river winds through the valley, and we spot more bison, deer, and elk. No bears or moose this time, but seeing the bison is a highlight — they’re like the mascots of Yellowstone, plastered all over postcards and souvenirs.

CDT Day 48 — Hiking out of Island Park

We don’t have to hike much today, since our first permit for Yellowstone is at Summit Lake, just 24 miles from Island Park. We start the day by lounging by the river in Mack’s Inn, enjoying a breakfast picnic before saying our farewells to Ryan’s family. After that, we head over to the Mexican restaurant — pretty much the only decent place in town — for lunch. There, we meet a bunch of hikers we haven’t crossed paths with before. Taking time off has placed us in a whole new bubble of fellow adventurers. 

We meet three NOBOs and three SOBOs who we’ll see more of over the coming days as we stick to the same campsites in the National Park. Northbounder Purple Haze tells us all about the alternate route through the Grand Tetons. We had already dismissed that plan because of time, but now there’s a new fire closure on the red line south of Dubois. The alternate route would bypass it, so it’s back on our radar. We would need to change our Yellowstone Permits, but we can still so that from Old Faithful, so we will reevaluate when we get there in two days. 

The section begins with a long road walk — three miles on a busy paved road without a shoulder. We keep hopping off into the grass whenever a car speeds by, which gets really annoying. Finally, we turn onto a dirt road, where only the occasional ATV roars past, its driver coated in a thick layer of dust. It’s another eight miles on this stretch, and it’s hot, flat, and easy — so boring that the heat feels even more oppressive. I’m sweating buckets.

There is a nice creek running close to the dirt road, where we spot the three SOBOs we just met. It’s such a peaceful spot with cold, running water and, surprisingly, no mosquitoes, so we decide to camp there too. I take a dip in the refreshing water, we finish off our burrito leftovers, and then settle in for the night. Ryan is still not on the top of his game, but he’s much better.

I’m not feeling great either—probably the result of the long day yesterday with three kids. The loud noises, constant socializing, and the chaos of the National Park crowds all catch up to me, turning into physical symptoms that scream sensory overload. I have to be really careful with this stuff to avoid autistic burnout. My social battery drains fast, and I need to pace myself.

CDT Day 49 — Entering Yellowstone National Park

We don’t manage to get out as early as planned, and by the time we start walking at 8 am, it’s already hot. The road feels like a steamy sauna, each step a reminder that we’re in the thick of summer. The trail leads us over odd, dirt mounds that we either have to clamber over or weave around. Eventually, we find our way back to the CDT.

When we reach the Yellowstone National Park border, it’s surprisingly underwhelming — only a small sign that tells us we’re crossing into the National Park. It’s a relatively flat and easy day. We reach the end of Montana and Idaho, and it stirs up emotions. Crossing into Wyoming, we’re greeted by a thunderstorm that rolls in as if to welcome us. We get a little wet as the rain starts falling, but it’s a fitting way to say goodbye to the states we’ve just completed.

 

We meet a bunch of NOBOs along the way, sharing quick hellos in the rain before moving on. As we hike, we start to notice the first signs of Yellowstone’s geothermal wonders — steamy holes dotting the landscape, hinting at the volcanic activity below.

We finally reach our campsite at Summit Lake just in time for sunset. We’re the last ones to arrive, and as we set up camp, steam rises from the lake, adding a mystical touch to the end of a long, flat, and easy day.

 

CDT Day 50 — A day full of geothermal wonders

It’s been a long and thrilling day, packed with geysers, a cold morning, and a night hike that pushes our nerves. We wake up to freezing temperatures, mist hovering over the meadows, and for the first time in a while, I find myself missing my puffy jacket. The cold seeps into our bones as we start our 10-mile trek to Old Faithful Village, with a side quest to Mystic Falls planned along the way.

We hit the trail at 6 am, eager to have enough time to explore Old Faithful. The hike is easy and flat, leading us onto boardwalks that wind through a landscape of geysers, hot springs, and bubbling pools. We’re lucky to see the eruption of Lion Geyser. We’re captivated by the sight of the powerful display of all of this, holding our attention far longer than planned. The ground’s intricate structures fascinate me, and we even spot a bison, adding to the magic of the morning.

As we approach Old Faithful, we meet a bunch of new SOBOs, all of us drawn by the promise of the lunch buffet. But first, we take advantage of a free shower at the Old Faithful Inn, scrubbing off the trail grime before heading to the buffet. It’s a hiker’s paradise, despite the muggles complaints about it on Yelp — it’s not gourmet, but we devour as much as we can. However, our stomachs can’t quite keep up with our eyes.

With our bellies full, we decide to tackle the alternate into the Grand Tetons. There’s no backcountry ranger station at Old Faithful, so we change our permits over the phone, all while bouncing our packages and stocking up on essentials. We grab a ton of soda and two jars of peanut butter, not wanting to risk running out of food for the added miles in the Tetons. But the sheer amount of people, noise, and chaos starts to get to me. My senses are overwhelmed, and I’m eager to escape the crowds.

We make our way to a trailhead, where we spend nearly an hour downloading a map of the Tetons as the internet connection is very slow-going, our tent drying in the meantime from last night’s soaking mist and condensation. Other hikers drift in, some familiar faces like Little Legs and Crazy Eyes we met in Lincoln, along with new ones like Sam from Germany, Cookie, Trench from Oregon, and Noah, who carries a ukulele. They all got caught up by the Lunch buffet and also trying to figure out what to do about the fire closure south of Dubois, with some opting for the Tetons and others sticking to the CDT to see what happens.

It’s already 4 pm when we finally hit the trail again, with 16 miles still ahead of us. We hike as fast as we can, but another geyser area slows us down — it’s just too cool to rush through, and this time, there are no people here, we have it all for ourselves.

Then we reach a place aptly named “The Bog,” and it lives up to its name. There’s no way to get through without soaking our feet, and the mozzies are out in force. They swarm us, biting at every exposed inch of skin. The sun is setting, and we push on, racing to escape the bog. Shoshone Lake greets us with a breathtaking post-sunset sky, its colors reflecting perfectly in the still water. But the moment of peace is short-lived as we start a steep climb, sweat dripping down our faces, the mozzies relentless. Ryan pulls out a bug net, and I tighten my sun shirt hoodie around my face, trying to stay covered even though it’s sweltering.

As darkness falls, my nerves spike. The last place I want to be night hiking is in a National Park full of bears. We sing along and “Hey bear” a lot, for the bears and for moral. Suddenly, we hear someone yelling in the distance, and our hearts skip a beat — did they run into a bear? Fresh poop on the trail doesn’t help our anxiety. But then Trench appears behind us, the one who was yelling. She’s scared too and wants to hike with us, even though her long legs make her much faster. We’re all terrified, and there’s comfort in numbers, so we stick together, talking loudly the rest of the way.

Whew, this feels like the longest mile I’ve ever hiked. When we finally reach the campsite, relief washes over me. We eat dinner in the red glow of our headlamps, hang our Ursacks, and by the time we crawl into the tent, it’s 10:40 pm.

What an exciting and long day. 

 

CDT Day 51 — Stopover in Grants Village 

After crossing a river, we find ourselves hanging out with the largest group of SOBOs we’ve seen so far. It’s a refreshing change, and I’m really enjoying our current bubble. Crazy Eyes and Little Legs stand out to me — they hike in a similar style, not just rushing to finish as fast as possible, but taking breaks and truly savoring the journey. Unfortunately, they’ve decided to stick to the red line and tackle the 30-mile road walk detour around the fires. Big groups are not really happening on the CDT as there are so many different ways to build your own adventure that we keep losing each other. We haven’t seen groups larger than two people in quite a while. Most groups split up at some point to pursue different alternates. 

We hit the road and have lunch with Little Legs and Crazy Eyes. A few raindrops fall, thunder rumbles in the distance, but the storm passes us by quickly. Then, in a spontaneous twist, we catch a motorcycle hitch to Grants Village. It’s a bit of a panic buy situation as we want to stock up on more food for the Tetons, then indulge in soda and burgers before moving on. 

Afterward, we soak in Witch Creek, a hot spring in a river, letting the warm water soothe our tired bodies. We hike on to Heart Lake, where the sunset paints the sky with beautiful colors.

Leaving the CDT to head towards the Tetons feels like the start of a new chapter, but it quickly turns into a challenge. We miss an unmarked, barely visible junction at first, turning back when we realize our mistake. The trail ahead is littered with blowdowns, making progress slow and frustrating. We have permits for campsite B81, but the trail turns out to be unmaintained, forcing us into a tough bushwhack as darkness falls. It’s really the last place we want to be — deep in grizzly country, wading through a swamp, losing the path again and again. The whole situation freaks me out. The trail is only a mile long, but it takes us forever.

When we finally reach where the campsite should be, there’s nothing there. We’re exhausted and lost, so we pitch the tent right on the spot, relieved to find a dry, flat area. We eat quickly, and just as we’re settling in, we hear a big splash nearby. I decide it must be a deer and go to sleep. This has turned into quite an odyssey. Just yesterday, we swore we wouldn’t be night hiking in grizzly country ever again, and here we are, bushwhacking in the dark. I thought the mile we hiked last night was the longest of my life, but this one takes it to an entire new level.

Right now, I just want to quit this alternate before it even started.

 

CDT Day 52 — Heading towards the Grand Tetons

I wake up feeling miserable — sore throat, weakness, and a pounding headache. Today’s hike is supposed to be an easy 13 miles to the road, but every little climb feels like climbing Mount Everest. My nose is runny and ticklish, and every movement sends a wave of pain through my body. To make matters worse, I have to put on yesterday’s soaking wet, muddy shoes and socks. Gross.

We try to push through, but when we reach a waist-deep lake that the so-called trail runs straight through, we give up and bushwhack back to the more reliable trail. From here, there are two connector trails on my map. We skip the first one, following a sign that points everywhere except where we need to go, and head for the second one. Of course, we miss it at first, adding a bonus mile to backtrack, only to find it unmaintained as well. Finally, we return to the sign, and find this trail nice and easy. And then there it is — Camp B81. It turns out to be right at the end of the connector. Seriously? The camp obviously was relocated, but the rangers didn’t bother to update us when we got the permit. 

We worry about Trench, who camped at the lake last night, and hope she didn’t attempt the same route. Later, we find out we were the only ones foolish enough to do that. Everybody else had an app called Gaia that told them that this is an unmaintained trail. I mean, we needed to get to that camp, and it got dark, so what were we supposed to do.

But it’s a beautiful area — a green valley with a river and hardly any mosquitoes. We spot a lot of marmots and stop by another hot spring where hot and cold water mix perfectly in the river. A little snake hangs out by the spring, adding to the serene atmosphere. We have more river crossings ahead, so at least starting the day with wet feet wasn’t all bad. It’s cooler today, and under normal circumstances, this would be a lovely hike. But I feel like absolute dog shit, and I’m not sure if I can handle the more challenging terrain in the Tetons.

As we continue, the mosquitoes return with a vengeance. I don’t want to stop to put on Picaridin, so they bite me all over my legs. I know, mosquitoes can only fly up to 2 mph, so I’m trying to outrun them instead. And I’m afraid if I stop now, I won’t be able to go on, just crashing down. I push through to the road, where we have one last wide but manageable river crossing. We finally reach the entrance of Yellowstone National Park.

From here, it’s about 2 miles to Flagg Ranch on the road, or 3 miles on a nearby trail. We try hitching, but not many cars are coming out of Yellowstone towards the Tetons. We start walking along the road and eventually, a car picks us up and takes us to Flagg Ranch, where everyone else is already gathered — Syrup, Randi, Trench, and Chip. We enjoy burgers together, and I find a vegan Ben & Jerry’s in the general store that we devour. We hang out for a while, and I consider staying the night to see how I feel tomorrow. If I’m still sick, we could hitch out from here. But the thought of heading into the Tetons with a group is too tempting to pass up. It’s safer and more fun, so we decide to hike out together for another 3 miles.

We camp at a beautiful free campsite along the river, where you can stay for up to seven days — a perfect base for exploring both Yellowstone and the Tetons. A group of three Germans is also camping here, and we all hang out. Chatting about nasty hiker feet, having a cold burrito from the general store for dinner and Syrup shows off his cool, uniquely carved wooden spoon. The others play Uno later, but I lay down to rest. It’s a little noisy, but I’m just happy to be off my feet and resting.