TravelingMel

A couple weekends ago I went down to Yellowstone with the intention of skiing the Pebble Creek trail near the east entrance of the park. When I got there I read the description of the trail and decided it was too steep and avalanche-y for me to ski myself.

I checked out a few trailheads and ended up skiing the (closed) road to the Slough Creek trailhead, through the campground and across a meadow.

It was pretty.

The beautiful Beartooth mountains.

Downy woodpecker.

Soda Butte Creek.

Bannock Creek ski trail, obviously.

Coyotes mousing.

A herd of bison at Slough Creek. They were not that happy to see me ski by.

Nice photo, Mel. Thanks.

More pics here.

For the third year running we took a little ski tour with our friends from the Sacred Mysteries Bookstore. David, the owner, gets a group together and I act as the unofficial guide (really I just ski...).

Last year we skied around the Mammoth Terraces in 0 degree weather. The year before, we skied to Tower Falls.

This year we skied to Tower Falls again. The weather was lovely, the bison were present and the falls were frozen over with running water behind the ice.

We started the day at the Boiling River and then met up with the other 6 folks at the Mammoth Hotel. From there we caravanned to the Tower Falls trailhead. Even though it hasn't snowed in forever and there wasn't much snow on the drive over, the trail was surprisingly good. it had just been groomed that morning and was lovely.

On the trail to the Boiling River.

Enjoying a steamy soak.

Finn is a naturist.

Bison along the trail. Skiing past them may have been the highlight of Anders trip.

Looking for grass beneath the snow.

Big mountains and basalt columns.

Armando skis past a frozen spring.

Richard, the Aussie massage therapist, coming down a hill.

Finn takes a break in the sun at the Tower Falls turnaround.

Anders, happy to get out of the Chariot.

Tower Falls.

David coming down a hill on the Campground Loop that was steeper and longer (and more fun!) than it looks in this photo.

Erin makes it down the hill.

Armando descends.

Passing the bison on the way down.

The boys watch bison.

Almost back to the truck.

So sleepy from the ride.

Hotel building. I just threw that in for fun.

In case you were wondering what it sounds like when the boys sleep...

On the second of January I took my second solo ski of the week. (Here's the first if you missed it.) H and I are going to try to give each other a day off every other week. I spent mine in Yellowstone.

I started on the Upper Terrace Drive and quickly turned onto Snow Pass Trail.

Leaving the Terraces to climb up to Snow Pass.

It's a gradual and then steep climb up to Snow Pass starting out in junipers and quickly transitioning to the standard fare of Yellowstone''s non-lodgepole conifers (Doug-firs etc.).

Looking up the Gardiner River.

Juniper berries.

Bunsen Peak (named after the dude who invented the Bunsen burner). This one is the money shot.

On the last jaunt up to the pass I said to myself, "They should call this Herringbone Hill, gasp (suck air)". The next day my friend Jessica said she calls it "Herringbone Hill". So, we must call it that from now on. (The herringbone is a technique to get up a hill too steep for any other technique. You angle the tips of your skis out to the side, and press the inside edge of each ski into the snow as you push on it. It's not that fun and best avoided if possible.)

There was a little downhill after the pass and then onto the flats.

Over the pass and onto the flats.

Just a pretty picture.

I kept racing up to these skiers and then stopping to take photos. It's nice to have people in some of your photos and when you ski alone, you have to catch them sometimes.

Now they crest the little hill and I have almost caught them!

After I passed the other skiers I noticed there were coyote tracks (which didn't photograph well) in the ski tracks for almost the whole ten miles. Cool.

When I got to the road, I crossed it and skied the Bunsen Peak Trail around the stand-alone mountain.

Looking back from the base of Bunsen Peak.

The other side (south side) of Bunsen.

Lodgepoles, lodgepoles, lodgepoles. Eighty percent of the trees in Yellowstone are lodgepoles. They are a weedy tree and can tolerate the porous, low-nutrient, volcanic soil better than anyone else.

Now on the north side of Bunsen, looking toward--and over--Mammoth.

Mt Everts. Named for a half-blind guy that got himself lost in the park during the olden times. He lived. Barely.

After a few miles there is a big, long downhill (followed by a steep, short uphill) back to the road. My plan was to ditch my skis and hitch a ride back to my car. When I got to the trailhead, Jess (of the Herringbone Hill comment), Chris and the girls were there getting ready to ski. Jess gave me a ride to the car. Wasn't that nice of her?

I just have to say that I LOVE skiing in Yellowstone.

Christmas day at our house was probably much like Christmas mornings all over the country. We got up too early (as we do every day). The boys had a pre-breakfast (they wake up starving) and then they opened their stockings.

Next were the gifts--lots of them. After each of them the boys played. And played. After second breakfast we opened more gifts. Then lunch (yeah, we ate a lot).

Next it was time to get outside. We went for a little ski just north of Yellowstone and then soaked in a hot tub at Mammoth. We did this once last winter and enjoyed it so much we had to do it again.

After each present we took a break to play with toys. It took almost 3 hours to get the gifts opened. You'll notice this first picture was taken in the dark.

The traditional Swedish pancakes we ate during one of our present-opening breaks.

Swedish pancakes with homemade blackberry-raspberry jam and powdered sugar on top.

Anders asked Santa for a stop sign.

The chaos of our house Christmas morning.

Pre-ski sledding.

Finn loves sledding.

Anders loves sledding, too.

Go Rigby! Go Henry!

The riders.

Skiing up Bear Creek.

Getting changed after skiing.

Enjoying the hot tub at Mammoth.

We had planned to get some dinner, but the boys (and H and I) were beat. We skipped dinner and the boys fell asleep on the way home. Me too.

We had big plans to go skiing today, but I wimped out and suggested we go sit in a hot spring instead. L-A-Z-Y.

After breakfast at Chadz we drove down to Yellowstone, walked the .5 miles to the Boiling River and soaked. Hot springs with kids aren't quite as relaxing as when you don't have to spend your whole time keeping someone from drowning, but we had a ton of fun.

Finn did not enjoy the getting in and getting out of the water (imagine being carried to a river, stripped down to nothing in 30 degree weather, then doing it in reverse--while wet--after a lovely swim) but he was all smiles in the water. Anders was pretty darn tough and handled the cold like a boy born in Montana in January.

Just a little ice in the river and three handsome dudes in the foreground.

Brothers comparing rocks. Even in the water these boys find rocks to throw.

"Look at my rocks," says our Chief Collector.

Smiley Finn.

Throwing rocks off the bridge after the swim.