A Wolf at the Table

“The song that the darkness composes to worship the light”.  Anyone know the artist? Dawn has become my most treasured time.  So much happens and is gone in just a short stoke of the brush.  I hated the early morning most of my life...not any more.  A contrast beyond imagination and the image of Hayden Valley’s alpha male wolf in the sunrise.   755 is his name to the biologists,  I’m calling him REX.   Since I have been here he has taken down two elk and fought off a couple of griz.  He has been hit by a car and almost been run over my me.  All to make sure his little band of pups and mom are going to survive.   It just goes to show you.... we aren’t alone in what is important. 

The Art of Bison Wrangling

Nothing quite like wrangling to make a man feel like part of the old west.  Visions of The Duke, Capt. Call and Gus, or Charlie Postalwaite danced through my head today as I got more confident at the craft.  The only catch was I was wrangling Buffalo and I was in the saddle of my 350 super duty ALS Ambulance.  The Buffalo are starting the rut and that means love is in the air.  I don’t mean just love I mean BIG LOVE.  The big bulls wait patiently for the females to decide when the time is right and then it’s Whoopie time.  Sounds like us, right?  I didn’t think so.  During this time everyone leaves their Buffalo brains at home.  Sounds like us?  I thought so.  Bulls are fighting and females are running and getting chased.  Now this has gone on forever but not with cars and roads as the playground.  Buffalo in the road just hanging out seems to cause a worse traffic jam  than a four car pile up on the Katy Freeway.  Miles of cars in both directions.  It has become the rangers job to move the beasts off the road by whatever means is appropriate.  Short of murdering them.   My chosen technique is a high speed run up to the big shaggies and then a subtle turn away on the opposite side of the direction I hope they will go.  All the time whooping and scratching my PA mic with my finger nails.  Occasionally I catch a glimpse of the terrified motorist watching me play chicken with the monsters.  If the big boys still don’t move then it’s time to play rough.  A little nudge with my grill guard will most often get a slow long look back and then a, “ I’m only moving because I want to” look.  So far....these antics have been mostly successful.  It was some show all day in the “narrows” of the Hayden Valley today.  Traffic stopped  for miles, with Canyon 1 and myself and a patrol car driving my Nicole Gruver running up and down a half mile stretch with lights and sirens blasting to nudge the beasts off the pavement.    And to end...a love story.  The two buffalo butts you see in one photo belong to Romeo and Juliet.   Juliet has a bad hip injury and can barely move at all.  She would manage about 6 steps onto the road and stop.  Romeo would move his body to whatever side the closest vehicle was and block for her.  He would not leave her side.  He is the only one that “the gentle nudge” with the ambulance would not move.  So, the lovely couple was given a pass.  To the dismay of hundreds of car bound tourist.  Usually a good western has some kind of love story, right?    

Johnny Rocket

This guy has it all.  A cool slick back doo, plenty to eat, lots of beach, and he can swim on this back while eating with his hands.  Eat your heart out John Travolta.  Johnny and I met the other day when I was having one of those Yell moments on the shores of Lake Yellowstone.  He just meandered by while I was exploring some Albertsons sushi and a vino on this spectacular little point.  We got close ....as close as an otter will let you.  Don’t let the photo size fool you.  Johnny was a big boy.    I’m slicking my hair back as we speak...well  hairs anyway.   The leather jacket is still in storage ,I think ,so when I get back to Texas get ready.  

The Law of Accidental Triumph

Over the years I have come to believe that the old saying, “fortune favors the brave”, is without a doubt true.  In my experience it has shown it’s face in many situations, some of great consequence.   That has lead me to discover a little discussed law of the universe.  I’m calling it " The Law of Accidental Triumph”.   If you were to put pen to paper the law would read something like this, “ One’s propensity for unexpected victory is directly proportional to one’s determination and action to feed personal curiosity”.  Kind of a mouthful I suppose.

In other words, “ the harder you look the more you see”.   Maybe it’s a turn on a dirt road, starting a conversation with a stranger, saying no or maybe yes, or perhaps changing the course of your life.   Today for me it was turning down a road.  Pacific Creek in the Teton Wilderness.   Five miles away there were a million tourists moving mindlessly from one turn out to another in the Tetons and Yellowstone.  I sat in my chair with a perky chard listening to the running water.  Bothered only by two Elk and a deer.  Please do the world a favor and obey the LAW.

A Bear of a Road

For some reason the nomadic life has always appealed to me.  Those of you who follow the blog may have guessed.  Remote beautiful roads are always close to my heart and I have found some beauties over the years.  The River Road,  Texas 337, Colorado 118, and now Wyoming 212.  You leave the north entrance to Yellowstone and head toward Red Lodge Montana.  The you find yourself in the clouds above the tree line.  Switchbacks snaking along with sheer cliffs on the sides as you go down into Montana.  Not for the wide load or rubber necker for sure but certainly worth the drive.  

Who knows you might get a lesson on sharing along the way.  These guys were discussing an Elk carcass that the bear had taken from a wolf.  The coyote may need some glasses on this one.  Sharing...humm.  A lesson we all need to learn.

What every guy should know

I was in a little bar in Lovell Wyoming on my way to back Yellowstone from a walkabout in the area and overhead a couple of conversations.  The three folks on my left were discussing the finer points of butchering an Elk and the couple on my right were talking about what should be done to the plumbing on the RV.  Then the second couple switched topics  to home dentistry.    I am ashamed to say that I am not up on any of these skills.   That is fairly disappointing since I was considering myself a man of the world.  Not any more.   Maybe it was the tequila that caused me to start wondering about what a man should really know before he becomes worm food?  Here is my bar napkin list from Sam’s in Wyoming.  In no particular order.  Let me know what should be added.

1. Ironing
2. How to fillet a fish
3. Auto repair or being able to fake it.
4. Grilling....anything
5. How to use a chain saw...without loosing a limb or needing to cut anything
6. The butterfly technique....Look it up
7. Elk butchering for sure
8. RV and household plumbing...wait but I rent?  doesn’t matter
9. The tango...a la “Scent of a Woman”.
10. How to ride a Harley
11. How to tie a bow tie....no clip ons you dweebs.
12. Carving a Turkey..
13. A dude has to know how to swim... not the “JAWS” head out of the water way either.
14. Ahh, that thing you do that is not the other thing...with your honey
15. Craps...no not that kind...the Vegas kind.
16. Gourmet cooking.  You only need one dish to swoon them...practice practice practice.
17. Celestial navigation
18. A little two step.
19. Deck building.  Big boys build their own house.
20. Playing an instrument.  Doesn’t really matter what but your old high school tuba may be out.
21. Start a fire.....on purpose
22. Opening a longneck without an opener
23. Three ball juggling...because that one I can do.
24. Shut up and listen
25. Find life in every breath.

Optional 26.   Home dentistry....?

The Three Bears

Every once in awhile you are given a gift that maybe doesn’t make sense at the time.  We’ve all had it.  The value of the thing or event is only understood after the fact.  Later down the road.  Someone is very fortunate to be able to see the magic in that gift at the time it’s given.  Well, yesterday I was given a gift.   A momma grizzly and her cubs feasting on a bison kill.  Now, I realize that is not a tropical cruise or a Rolex but I think this one is more unique and certainly more rare.  Myself and a couple of other folks got the pleasure of watching the mom teach the cubs the finer points of how to chew an ear  and barrel roll off a carcass.   Remember when your mother taught you things?    I know mothers day has long passed but if you get a chance this weekend...raise a glass to those hidden gifts and why not add moms too.  

Close Encounters of the Furry Kind

My morning hike this morning was very interesting and stimulating.  This young Griz and I had a very close encounter around a bend in the trail.  He was small by standards, about 300 lbs but plenty big enough to release a little Adrenaline in the old body.  I snapped this pic after I got farther away.  Lucky for me he was much more interested in the grubs he was digging up.  I will call him “Charlie”.  Charlie is going to cause a lot of trouble today I have a feeling.  This bear is very close to one of the most popular tourist sites in the Canyon area.  I will be seeing him a little later I imagine. OPPS, there goes the radio now...LOL.  Charlie is named in honor of my call sign.  4 Charlie 20. So, if your are in the park today...and have a radio, call, “4 Charlie 20” and lets have lunch.  Bring the bear spray.

Hot mud and other facts of life

This is called a paint pot.  I’m not completely sure if that is a scientific term or one some  high browed visitor used a hundred years ago to describe the feature.  Yep, they call them features here.  They are amazing in their own little way I suppose.  What’s even more amazing is that I walked a mile to see them carrying a big camera.  The steady stream of tourists moving up and down the trail somehow reminds me of going to a bunch of museums in a row.  They have that blank tourist stare you get from too many “features”.  You know.. you want to look interested because you don’t want people to think you’re a savage but you really are museumed out.   Next, Next, Next.  It was enlightening to watch people just stand there and wait for the next bubble.  I’m sure the lady on the crutches was very impressed when she finally got there.  So my advice to folks who come up to me looking for the next great secret of the Yellowstone is, “features in moderation please”.  

Buffalo 4, Tourist 0

Buffalo 4   Tourist 0

It might be in poor taste to keep score but I’m going to do it anyway.  I figure that the Buffs could use a win considering how they haven’t gotten a fair fight over the last 300 years.   This year the “big shaggies” are on a roll.  Shear muscle and horn meet bacteria level stupidity.  We had one where a rather intoxicated female ran full on into the back off a big bull in total darkness sneaking across a field she shouldn’t have been in.  In another more unfortunate encounter an older lady was hiking and got in a little hacky sack with a big bull.  Needless to say....she was the hacky sack. 

Yesterday, was buffalo day. (Bison ok).  We were herding a big herd across a narrow stretch of road by yelling and slapping our safety vests on the ground.  I was feeling very “ cowboy like” and had most on my side across the road except for one rather large fellow who happened to be standing next to a car full of terrified Asian tourists.  I advanced with presence because I am a ranger and had the hat.  I focused on the bull and started slapping the ground.  The bull just turned and made eye contact with me.  Hum...I thought...this is not going according to plan.  Just as I was about to be more of a man, I heard the screams of the wildlife ranger in the background.  She was screaming..NOT THAT ONE..HE DOESN”T LIKE THAT.   Now those are not words one likes to hear when exposed in the open with an angry 1200 lb. piece of meat.  The only car anywhere close was one that looked like a match box toy.  I could feel the horrified occupants praying that I would not run their direction.  Fortunately, the bull decided I was not worth the effort and walked off.   Only the strong and adequately supervised rookies survive on the Yellowstone.

One of the Herd

Has anyone noticed that as we bounce along the rutted dirt road of life, we encounter what we think are “all kinds of people”.  Some rich some poor, some sweet some....mean spirited, some of different color or beliefs...  But you know...looking down on this herd of “Buffalo”  yes, I called them Buffalo.  I don’t care what the text book calls them...to me...they are BUFFALO.  I realized that we are really all just the same.  No real differences only made up ones.  I wonder if my neighbor Ned is in that herd just chilling by the Yellowstone River.  If he is, Ned, enjoy the beauty and sunshine.  We really are all the same in the end.  But don’t forget to let the colors within shine out too.  (reason for the other picture....get it.)  Your homework for the day...find a way to bridge a gap.  You know what I mean.