Monday, August 31, 2009

[1]
August1, 2009
I hadn't had a chance till now to post this little trip I took nearly a month ago north of Dubois to Double Cabins.
It all began when two fellows I met in the gallery were wanting to check out the country and I offfered to take them to Double Cabins at the end of the road going straight north of Dubois and at the edge of the North Absaroka Wilderness area. It could not have been a more perfect morning and what a chance to show off the area to these two fellows from North Carolina.
As the sun was rising low hanging clouds were experiecing breaks within themselves allowing th low sun to paint a picture of heavenly light and color.

[2]
August 1, 2009
It is always a treat to break out of the dense timber and gaze across the Frontier Creek valley where it meets the Wiggins Fork coming in from the north. This morning the grand view is phenomenal. Clouds are hanging across the peaks exposing just enough here and there for jaw dropping views. The whole valley is draped in light, shadow and color in all directions. Cows are scattered along the valley floor below Norton point that also lends a pastoral look to the whole scene.
[3]
August 1, 2009
We drive on down to the trailhead. Rain has fallen heavily from the day and night befor and it is a quagmire. Even in 4-wheel drive I am sliding sideways in the cowtrail road. Not wanting to tear up things I park and we walk on down to the point the Wiggins Fork is met by Frontier Creek.

[4]
August 1, 2009
The scene is changing moment by moment with sun and clouds playing a game of hide and seek. All the while stroking the views with wide swipes of colorful brush work. An artist or photographer would be in heaven with these dramatic scenes being played out. My camera is pretty busy.
Looking north from the point Frontier Creek meets the Wiggins Fork.

Monday, August 24, 2009


[5]
August 1, 2009
To the south is no less of a view. The two streams through this basin runs in many channels attesting to the power of the spring runoff that cuts across the wide valley floor. Log jams and piles of gravel swept up and deposited in these events can be seen throughout the area. It also unearths many semi-precious stones from the surrounding area which are prized by rock hunters worldwide and who yearly ply the valley and surrounding area for petrified wood, garnets and other stones that make for fine lapidary work.
[6]
August 1, 2009
We are able to find ways across many of the side channels but that all ends at the main stream of the Wiggins Fork. Especially after the moisure we have had this year even into August the water is quite high. I hear a lot of Ooh's and Awes from my two companions. I really enjoy showing off the high country to folks who appreciate it for what it is and am glad God has provided such a scene for them to remember probably their whole lives. At least I am sure they won't forget the experience.
[7]
August 1, 2009
The morning stillness is now broken by the bawling of cattle and they are coming through the willows near where we are. An added touch of the old west for my new friends..
Forest Service regulations are such that cattle must be moved so as not to cause damage of Forest Service allotments[leases] This is especially important around riparian areas[stream bottoms]as they can be pretty heavily used by livestock and cause resource damage. Moments later this cowboy appears in the rear of the procession with his two dogs and is pushing them on across the river.
[8]
August1, 2009
Even a touch of the west seems perfect for my visitors and they are getting lots of pictures to check out back home.
[9]
August 1, 2009
Once again we are left alone along the stream bottoms with our cloud show and its not over. I have photogaphed enough material here for a lifetime of dramatic paintings.

[10]
August 1, 2009
All things come to an end and we reluctantly leave for town where my two companions have offered me a late breakfast at the Cowboy Cafe. I am all for that.

Thursday, August 13, 2009


[1]
July 30, 2009
The other morning I was at Brooks Lake west of Dubois by sunrise and sitting in my truck alongside the road just below Brooks Lake Lodge watching the Lodge horses slowly making their way across the meadow and willow flats towards the ranch corrals and whatever their reward might be for doing so. The weather is in the mid 30's but dead calm and seemingly very pleasant. Several of the horses are wearing bells and the soft jangling is a melodious reassuring sound in this wilderness setting. I watch and photograph them all as they make their way along thinking some of these photos could make for some interesting paintings.

[2]
July 30, 2009
I leave that scene and make my way to the outlet of the lake where I park and begin hiking towards the lake. Sound is carrying for miles in the stillness of the morning. There are several campgrounds in this area but no one is in any of them as the Forest Service has closed them until further notice. Apparantely because of the drouth that had hit us for the past decade and now the very wet spring and summer a fungus has erupted that is into the trees root systems weakening them to the point that when a recent rain, hail, wind event occured the trees were falling in the campground endangering campers. One lady gave up her tent in the hail and wind for refuge in her car only to discover that moments later a tree fell across her tent. She would have been crushed. God works in mysterious ways. At any rate the whole event allows me to have the whole lake and mountains here to myself on this morning.
[3]
July 30, 2009
The lake is like glass without a hint of wind. I find a spot along the lake edge and just sit for some time taking it all in and watching the morning unfolding. Trout are rising and jumping all across the lake leaving rings to even small waves across the surface. I can hear Pine Squirrels back in the forest chattering at who knows what and Clarks Nutcrakers are flying back and forth across the lake all the while calling to each other in true Jay fashion. I watch two Osprey fishing the lake and finally head southward. One lands in a tall spruce calling to its mate who has caught a fish for breakfast and flies right on by heading for their nest. The other finally gives up his calling and follows. Then it is again quiet except for the sound of those trout still feeding.
[4]
July 30, 2009
Glassing across the willow flats at the far end of the lake I am hopeful of finding a Moose or even Grizzly on the opposite slope. I have seen both here befor. I do spot 4 young Buck Mule Deer moving down the pack trail on the opposite shore. They remind me of young teenage boys poking, running ahead, jostling, stopping. Never complacent to just simply walk down the trail in an orderly fashion.
That trail is one of the access points into the Buffalo Forks and finally into the Thourofare country of the Upper Yellowstone River. Bridger Lake, located there is the furthest point in America from a road that there is.
[5]
July 30, 2009
I spend quite a bit of time along the lake reluctant to leave such a peaceful scene and it has been fun watching those young bucks along the trail on the opposite side of the lake. The Osprey have gone on to enjoy their trout breakfast. I hike back to my truck and drive on up the so called road towards the Bonneville Trailhead. The peaks of the Pinnacles tower over me as if protecting or hiding the entrance of Bonneville Creek and canyon. What incredible scenes.
[6]
July 30, 2009
I hike up the Bonneville Trail a ways then drop off the edge into the canyon. It is pretty steep with a lot of downfall. That makes for some pretty good exercise. Gaining the canyon floor it is easy for a while hiking along the creek. It is just that time of morning with the sun light just now hitting the canyon, and that moist coolness is just perfect for hiking along a perfect little stream.
[7]
July 30, 2009
All along the creek are wildflowers of every variety and color. These Bluebells love wet areas and are growing right at the streams edge
[8]
July 30, 2009
After about an hour I return to my truck and drive down country to below the lake to hike awhile along Brooks Lake Creek. This is a lot larger stream than Bonneville Creek and is alternately easy to hike to very steep slopes rather difficult to manuever. I do come upon an area of Willows that are taller than I am and am a little nervous about hiking through them as it is a good place to run into a bear or Moose and being alone I hate sudden surprises. It is nearly 10:00 and I decide to drive on up country to Moccasin Basin. A surprise little rain squall has krept over the mountain and the morning stillness has suddenly given way to a blustry wind with a little rain thrown in befor I get back to my truck.

[9]
July 30, 2009
The little squall is pretty short lived and the sun is out and it is warming quite rapidly. Nearly 50 degrees now. A parting shot of the Pinnacles and I am off to Moccasin Basin
[10]
July 30, 2009
Moccasin Basin lies right on the continental divide and is marked by sweeping meadows alternating with dense forest as well as some more open forest. It is a wildlife paradise and I have watched many varieties of wildlife from the end of the road that sits right on the divide. A large forest fire swept through the area several years ago and to the west are burned ridges with blackened trees right up to the spot I am sitting. The fire stopped at this point. This view is eastward across one of these meadows towards the Pinnacles where I have spent the majority of my morning.
[11]
July30,2009
I hike a ways along a small stream that is more like a trickle running through the grasses and open forest. It isn't very far to the spring where it has begun its little journey. Wildflowers grow profusely here such as these wet loving red Monkey Flowers.
[12]
July 30, 2009
It is pushing noon when I come across this small pond that is one of many that dot this part of the country. Shallow and nearly swamp like these ponds are filled with Pond Lillies. I have to make my way out on an old rotting log that protrudes out into the pond to get this picture. It won't be many more years that this rotting log will hold my weight and I would be a mess if I slipped off into this muck. Dragonflies ply the surface searching for mosquito larvae. Their beautiful irridescenent bodies glistening with color as they work the water like miniature helicopters. I can attest to the fact that they are missing a few. Quite a few.

Monday, August 3, 2009


[1]
July 21, 2009
As has become my habit of late I am up by 5"30 in the morning and with a cup of Kathys Koffe I am on my way to the East Fork Basin NE of Dubois. It has been several years since I have been in the basin and decide it is time to check things out. By shortly after 6:00 I am climbing up out of the Bear Creek bottoms and up on the bench to the north. It is sunny and all ready warming up. It just might be a hot one today.

[2]
July 21, 2009
The bench is a flat stretch of land maybe 2+ miles long by a half mile wide. It is fairly flat and at one time irrigated and produced hay for the Double Diamond Ranch. It is now part of the Wyoming Game and Fish land utilized for elk winter habitat. I run into this little herd of Pronghorn Antelope does who are not too convinced about my being a photographer without alterior motives. The slowly amble away from me but not befor I get a number of photos of them.
[3]
July 21, 2009
It is nearly 7:00 by the time I drive over the rough trail they call a road climb up and drop down the switchbacks into the East Fork Bsin. Another 2 track road puts me at the canyon entrance thatI am planning to hike down into.
[4]
July 21,2009
I barely step out onto the trail when I stop daed in my tracks. Grizzly footprints, about 8" long are perfectly visible going down the trail ahead of me. They are fresh. VERY Fresh. I walk rather carefully for another 100 yards and peering ahead at the willows that line the canyon floor I decide today is not the day for a hike down into this canyon.
[5]
July 21, 2009
I return to my truck and drive another mile or so up the valley and hike for awhile enjoying the many overflows of the river that seems unwilling to keep a main channel. There is a herd of cows[domestic]that seem to enjoy my presence as they pick now to come down to the river for water. All the while bawling and calling for their calves. They soon satisfy their thirst and and move on across to the other side of the river and go back to grazing in the warming morning sun. It again becomes relatively quiet and I am alone with my thoughts and sit a while just watching the world go by. It is very pleasant and not too many mosquitos around and I even get a little lazy watching the shortening shadows across the basin floor and surrounding peaks. Ahh. the good life.

[6]
July 21, 2009
I finally find my way to the trilhead at the end of the road. From here on there is no motorized vehicles and only by horseback or backpacking is it possible to venture into some of the most primitive country in America. My last pack trip befor cancer problems slowed me down a few years ago was up this trail. A trip I will never forget for the vast scenery and virtual wildness of the country. Climbing up the steep trail I look back down country at the braided river flowing southward.
[7]
July 21, 2009
I hike upriver over a mile following its twisted channels rather than follow the trail. I am pretty careful and try to make a lot of noise as the willows here are often higher than my head. I don't want any bear surprises but I don't see any bear sign whatsoever.
To the north is that old volcano with its cone stretching skyward. Several years ago I camped with a number of students and our outfitter at the base of that mountain and we marveled at the elk that were grazing at most anytime just at tree line and at the edge of the lava run on terraine so steep they must surely be growing longer feet on one side just to hold on.

[8]
July 21, 2009
The flowers along the river and in the willows are a pallette of colors that would be envious of any artist. Indian Paintbrush, Yarrow, Cinquifoils, Bistort, Arnicas and hundreds of others such as these Elephant Heads paint the countryside with such lavish colors. Fly Catchers, Pine Siskins and Juncos are busy amongst the willow and Pine searching out their meals. Clark Nutcrakers join in on the chorus of bird song that certainly brightens the day. It is a musical in technicolor. I would like to hike further but I slowly do make my way back to the trailhead.
[9]
July 21, 2009
I get a number of parting shots as I make my way back down the road. There are vistas everywhere. One could produce a lot of art work here.
I decide at the last minute to return to where I saw the bear tracks along the river just to get a few pictures of the changed light on the river. No sooner do I pull up than I hear a vehicle coming behind me. It is fishing guide, Leon Sanderson with a couple of clients that I recognize as living down the river from myself in Dubois.
I ask him if he has any bear spray on him. His reply is "No." I answer him back, "you might want to check out the tracks in the trail befor you do any fishing in the canyon." The folks with him are right behind and Mary my neighbor blurts out, "Oh ...". They decide to fish upstream and not in the canyon as they had intended.
I continue on up the switchbacks but want to get a little more hiking and exploring in so I stop at Castle Creek and walk about a 1/4 mile up the trail there when I run across a nice pile of Bear droppings. Maybe my hiking day is over. I'm guessing it might be the same bear as it is only about 1/2 mile on into the canyon and a natural for walking on down to it from here but I'm not for taking any chances. I like to see bears but only on my terms. My hiking day IS over.
[10]
July 21, 2009
It is nearly noon when I drive back off the mountain. I pass another vehicle coming in so I guess it is that time of day when humans begin venturing out. I marvel at how folks miss the best part of the day but am also glad that I get it all to myself. Maybe I am a little selfish or even greedy?
From this view as I descend off the mountain looking southward across the Wind River valley and on to the Wind River Mountain Range I can barely see Gannett Peak just showing above the mountins as a white speck towards the right of this photo. It is Wyomings highest point at 13,815 feet.