It’s easy to define renewal as a seasonal occurrence. We refer to the concept every spring as the flowers reappear and we begin to,catch glimpses of the elk calves hidden in the tall grass. The bins calves cavorting in the meadow also proclaim “Spring!” with every advancing day. Renewal is a much deeper process than the annual show that mother nature presents us with. Spring is just a reminder of true renewal. Spring is getting your hair cut, refreshing your wardrobe, losing just a few pounds.

The park has within it powerful reminders of both the pain and the depth of true renewal. In September 2009 the Arnica fire blazed in the West Thumb area. It left deep scars next to the road and back into the forest.

In 2010 that area looked much as it did just after the fire. In 2011 there were a few sprigs of grass and a touch of color at the edges. This year you see lush, juicy green grass well back into the distance and finally the elk are coming to feast at this banquet table. Prior to the fire there was nothing in the deep forest for them to eat.

The 1988 fires are all around you….we see the impact on a larger scale. In some parts of the park the fire burned so hot that the ground was scorched to a depth of a foot or more…..some of those areas are just now, 24 years later, showing full regrowth.
So, what does all this mean? I think of our schools…they don’t need spring level renewal; many of them need the earth-scorching, 1988, renewal. So many of the things proposed are mere flowers that regrow annually, they do not provide a new feast for our students.
Does the analogy hold for our political climate? Yes, but I need to think about it to expand the metaphor….
What I do know is that retirement has meant long-term renewal for me…and I’m not sure of when my next feast is going to be…but I do know that it will not be a short or easy road

I tell myself after each of our weekends (that’s Tues/Wed) that I will post something…and then we decide to go out, or Old Faithful’s going off, or there’s a card game in the lounge.  All of these things Tim eagerly points out–and then I’m distracted and off we go.

The other thing that happens, of course, is that a guest says something and my mind goes” that would make a GREAT blog post!”  Do I retain that idea until I get back to the dorm–not a chance!  Oh, well, that’s life in YNP–so here’s a quick synopsis of the past two weeks.

The elk and moose have started calving–and we haven’t seen any moose yet, so we decided to run down to Jackson.  Moose-Wilson road has a 60% success rate for us with regard to moose.  I’m pleased to report that we did see one…I’m sure you can see it in this picture.

We also had some luck in the same place last year with a few beavers–Tim seems to have a thing for beavers–no luck there but, later on in the day we stopped at one of the most beautiful spots in the world, Oxbow Bend.  Tim was unsuccessfully trying out some different camera techniques on a pelican–but look what showed up in the photos when we got home…..he certainly got his beaver! (and all of you thinking of truly terrible beaver jokes just have to stop right now!)

I’m trying to do more “capturing the background” with the critter pix this year…and these bison basically right next to the car cooperated fabulously.  The Park Service must have just paid their salary for the year.

Of course, the question every visitor asks is “where can I see bears?”  Here’s the answer:

A bear jam is the perfect clue.  This particular one was caused by a female black bear and her 2 adorable “cubs of the year”.  You really couldn’t get too close (especially with that ranger standing there) so we pretty much just spent an hour enjoying the cubs and mom.  Sometimes life is better without the camera. One of the first things that mom-bears do is teach their kids to go up a tree on command (mostly for protection) and these guys were clearly intent on getting in a LOT of practice.

This past weekend was really more of the same, not a lot of luck with baby moose or elk…but, sometimes when you least expect it–another opportunity presents itself.  I couldn’t believe my good fortune when this chocolate black bear was walking on the small ridge right next to the road–I couldn’t pass up that bear and that background.

With this adventure we were running late and didn’t make it back to the EDR for dinner (oh, tragedy)  but the gods were still with us.  On the way out to West to get a pizza we spotted this young gentleman and his mother just past Seven Mile Bridge. (See-pizza really does make good things happen!)
There’s a weather front coming through over the next 2 days–and we might even get a little bit more snow.  Stay cool–and we’re off to Cody next weekend to celebrate Tim’s birthday.

It’s Sunday evening and once again there’s a gently swirling snow falling outside our window. It’s been an absolutely crazy 3 days here at YNP. The snow forecasts, after two weeks of sunny late spring weather, have thrown all the guests into a quite unusual tizzy. The front desk has been absolutely crazy—most of the desk staff is new so they are just really learning things. Then you throw at them folks who want to leave early because they are afraid of the snow; folks who want to stay over because they are afraid of the snow; folks who want to know, every 30 minutes, which roads are open/closed and, to top it off, the folks who want you to tell them what to do when mother nature is at her most unpredictable.

Saturday there was 7 inches of fresh new snow on the ground, most of which was gone by 6pm. This morning there was another 2-3; this time gone by noon. Two of the 4 major routes out of the park were closed until  noon—and there was panic in the streets. Yesterday, when I told one guest that Craig Pass was open you could almost hear a cheer go up from the entire lobby.

It never ceases to amaze me how little people prepare themselves to come to YNP. They arrive with nothing but t-shirts and shorts and then end up spending a lot of money on sweatshirts, pants and socks because they didn’t read about the average temperature. They don’t realize how big the park is and how long it takes to navigate and then get irritated when you tell them that, basically, you can’t see the entire park in one afternoon.

Of course there are also the guests who ask crazy questions. My favorite one last week was “At what altitude do deer turn into elk?” There are days when I think half the American population needs to repeat 3rd Grade. They want to know what time we turn Old Faithful on, where to go to pet the bears and even “Where are the elephants?” That place is called Gibbon Falls, so of course we must have gibbons. They stand with an infant in their arms less than 30 feet from a grizzly bear and let total strangers watch their children. They want to pet bison and want to know what time we let the wolves out.

The crazies are all made up for by all the wonderful folks you meet along the way. There was one guest I spoke with 3 times yesterday—she kept coming back to me because she knew my recommendations would probably involve a comfortable chair and a beverage of her choice (hot or alcoholic or both). There was the look of total relief on the face of the gentleman from Europe when we managed to locate the bag with his passports. There’s the little girl racing to see Old Faithful and telling her daddy “We have to get it on video!”; another guest who, every time you see her, has a great big grin on their face and  says “I’m in Yellowstone!” There are the guests who are totally patient and understanding when rooms aren’t ready (because the linen truck was 4 hours late getting here due to impassable roads) and, of course, there are the absolutely crazy fisherman who were out in full force today, even though the outside temp was hovering around 35-40 degrees.

Happy Memorial Day!

….do I love this place, you ask?

Where else can you go from this:

to this:

with a few bears and pelicans inbetween.

A marvelous critter car ride today…back to work tomorrow.

Bison so own the park.  They are the meat and potatoes, the plain vanilla pudding, the cake without the frosting.   Bears and wolves are the Chateaubriand, the Crepe Suzette, the fine red wine.   Bison are part of your life everyday.  Yesterday we hit our first true bison jam….the jam was all coming towards us, so we just pulled off to the side of the road, watched the poor ranger trying to manage the traffic and sat back and laughed.

Then, of course, you find yourself next to this guy….he was huge—with freshly dried mud all over  him…and a real reminder that bison OWN the park…and though they “Go placidly amid the noise and haste…” they can also move at 35 MPH.

It was another great day in Lamar; 6 bears, cubs and moms, more baby bison and lots of pronghorns.  I’m off to see if I can go a few miles up the road and get some pix in today’s snow  (the sun was shining 2 hours ago)

Have a wonderful weekend

On Sunday we took our first major critter  trek through the park.   We saw LOTS of critters—but I thought I’d share with you the hidden reality of the trip. (the highlights are, of course, posted to flickr…these, for obvious reasons, didn’t make the cut)

Bears…well, yes, we saw a black bear–he looked like this for most of the 60 minutes we watched him….he occasionally rolled over and showed us that he, most assuredly, was a male black bear.

And then, of course, we saw a cinnamon black bear…Tim dropped me at the side of the road, as we typically do, but clearly we need more practice…my knitting tangled around me foot and I had about 50 feet of Cascade Heritage Silk running down the road. The Australians thought it was hysterical.

And then, of course, there was the grizz w/ 2 cubs….well, we’re fairly sure that’s what they are.  Sometimes these are great moments though.  You put your camera down, grab the binoculars and just watch the cubs roll, bounce, spring, pounce–do anything except walk.  We’re heading out again tomorrow–maybe they’ll be a little closer to the road–one thing’s for sure–we weren’t violating any park rules about getting to close to the animals. (Click on picture for larger view)

The big  horn sheep were no challenge at all….they were right on the road–the hardest part is getting them to show you something other than their butt….and getting the people out of the camera view.

We always eagerly await the first of the baby bison (red dogs) to be born.  We’d heard of a few–can you find them in this pic–it’s about as close as we came…but “we saw red dogs!” was the report when we got home.

There’s been bits and pieces of snow almost every day this week.  Usually it’s a dusting, just like powdered sugar on a brownie–that melts away into a gorgeous day…and we’ll see what the next week brings.  The Snow Lodge (Tim’s job) opens tomorrow and I finally start my training on Sunday.

OK–it’s time to “fess up”   the entire trip so far has been one big yarn road trip…I’m probably the only person with a traveling stash.   This is one of the 2 skeins of mountain goat that I dyed at Mt. Colors last week..and then there’s the blue blobs of mill ends that I’m going to use to make a hat; some BFL in the colorway Thunderstorm and my other custom colorway

I also picked up some of their regular colors–spruce and opsrey and northwind….I love the way they work colors (and the osprey have really been out and about in the park–double joy!)

I’m also the proud owner of 2 new drop spindles–and spent almost 2 hours practicing using a spinning wheel (an Ashford Traveler) at Josephs’s Coats in Missoula….The owner made my day when she said “would you like a job”—after I spent a little time showing one of her other customers how to use the spindle….it was so tempting to say “yes”  (or actually to shout it at the top of my lungs).

I then stopped by the Bozeman LYS, wound my mountain colors and picked up more fiber–this time dyed with natural dyes—just to play with.

I love taking my drop spindle with me–the folks in the employee dining hall just look at you really strange–and it can take them quite a while to get up the courage to actually come ask what you’re doing–and their reactions vary from “cool” to “huh?”

I finally realized that the dorm room really didn’t have a nice space in which to knit so today Tim & I rearranged things…we now have a really BIG bed  (it’s a double mattress combined with a twin mattress) and, with a little bit more space the room is just a touch friendlier..and easier to knit in.

I don’t yet know whether the Old Faithful Inn will work its knitting magic  this year.  50 years after the 4-fireplace chimney collapsed they have finally found the $ to repair it…so the magical fireplaces in the Old Faithful Inn will be swathed in plastic for almost all of the summer….I’m thinking about organizing a yarn bomb–just to give it some color.

Mountain Colors was my first “sin yarn”;  those  budget-busting beautiful yarns from small independent dyers.  The ones that make you realize that the stuff your local craft store is second-rate.   I fell in love with it just after I started knitting.  Their Mountain Goat is my favorite…the sheen and the depth of color just make  want you to fondle it and smell it and immerse yourself in it.  That’s why you knit it–so you can wrap yourself in it. (not to mention, of course, that their colors are named after things I love:  mountain thunderstorms, osprey, redtailed hawks,…)

For the first time in 15 years, I’m on a road trip by myself.  Wolfie & I decided to go see where the magic happens.  The staff of Mountain Colors was wonderful, and they just let us hang and watch.  Wolfie got to hide in all of his favorite places and we both reveled in the color.  Everywhere you look the colors have left their mark–it’s as if a slightly deranged mother nature had learned how to use her wand by  practicing on the studio.

And if it couldn’t get any better–tonight I get to go back for a dyeing workshop!  Wheeeee!

(addendum:  the dyeing workshop was wonderful fun–I have 2 custom skeins of yarn and met a really nice new group of knitters, 3 of whom were escapees from the DC area-smart people!)

Click on each individual pic to see it full-size or go to my flickr site

It usually takes a few days to get used to driving out here.  70 mph on two lanes roads feels “not right”  initially. After a few hundred miles it begins to feel right.  The top down; the wind in your hair; your newly short hair just barely wisping into your face; the tug of the breeze on your baseball cap…absolutely wonderful. And then you notice the big rig ahead of you on the road.  The gap between the two of you slowly diminishes and you realize that you need to pass it.  The road is clear and you gently apply a little pressure  on  the accelerator. The car responds without a momen’ts hesitation..   Before you realize it, you’re doing 90.  You’re flying down the road–this must be what a little bit of heaven feels like.  Your heart says “just stay here” but slowly your more rational self takes control again and you slow back down….and begin to wonder when you will get to do it again.

I LOVE my car!