Wolves in the American Serengeti

Route

Sunday, October 25th. Day two in Yellowstone with my mom. We were back in the park by 8:30am, and our first stop was some needed coffee. Mammoth Hot Springs was as vibrant as ever, with steam billowing up into the crisp bluebird sky. Frost covered everything, though it didn't get as cold as the night before. Thank God.

We headed for the Lamar Valley with Rhea in the back and Mom riding shotgun. About 30 minutes out from the Lamar, small herds of bison started showing up, roaming in the cold air with steam radiating off their faces and breath. Three big bulls were jumping around, play-fighting of sorts, rubbing their heads in the dirt and rolling around before trotting off. Wild and free.

The dense pines from the rest of the park give way to bigger, broader cedars dotting the slopes, with shrubby bushes down in the valleys. Big boulders are scattered everywhere. My guess was the glaciers dragged them here when they carved out the valley. Spot on, it turns out. The park calls them glacial erratics, boulders the ice carried in and left stranded when it melted.

Yellowstone is particularly empty this time of year, but in the Lamar Valley we saw a bunch of cars stopped by the side of the road, which means wildlife. It was a pack of 14 wolves! Mostly black and gray, with one or two white wolves, following a huge herd of bison east to west along the tree line. Absolutely breathtaking. My Nikon with its 250mm zoom came in clutch for some pictures.

Yellowstone's last wolf pack was killed in 1926. In January 1995, the park brought in 14 wolves from Canada, the same number as our pack, and 17 more the next January. That black coat actually came from dogs, which passed the gene for black fur to North American wolves 10,000 to 15,000 years ago.

This valley is known as the American Serengeti, and it's easy to see why. Herd after herd of bison, on grasslands so vast they can support all of these animals in one space.

The park already has its snow markers up for the plows, poles at least six feet tall along the road, which tells you how much snow they get here. Orange ones mark the road, and separate yellow ones mark the pullouts. Necessary, I'm sure. The high peaks all around us were covered in snow. Winter is fast approaching.

We drove back out the north entrance to Gardiner for lunch at Wonderland Cafe, which has become our go-to spot in town. It was packed for Sunday lunch. We posted up outside in the sun, and it felt like 70F even though it was only really 40F out. Things are slower out here, with less hustle and bustle and less rushing around. I sat there soaking up the sunshine, like the plant in human form I am. Life is good.

I devoured the bison, beef, pork, and blueberry bratwurst sandwich with jalapeños and aioli, plus a huge side salad. To die for. After watching me order it two nights in a row, Mom finally got the elk burger with a side of chili, and we had sweet potato fries. 10 out of 10. If you're ever in Gardiner, this is the spot.

To top it all off, as we left Gardiner we pulled over one last time to watch an entire herd of elk cross the Yellowstone River by a bright yellow cottonwood tree, with a bald eagle soaring overhead. Yesterday a grizzly, today wolves. Now this. A life-changing trip within a trip.

Coming down out of Yellowstone, you realize how high up on the plateau you are. It's downhill the whole way to Livingston. On our right, to the east, is the Absaroka Range, which I wasn't even aware of on the way up Friday night in the rain. Now it was covered in snow from that same storm, following the Yellowstone River north through Paradise Valley.

Steinbeck writes that he left Yellowstone this same way in 1960 and spent the night in "a pretty auto court near Livingston." We got a cozy Airbnb in Bozeman instead.

It was perfect. A big king bed for my mom, and a Murphy bed in the living room for Rhea and me, next to a cozy gas fireplace. We picked up dinner to go from the local co-op, which has every healthy dish you could desire and more.

We love this town. It's big enough to have a downtown strip full of stores, restaurants, and bars, with neighborhoods right off it. A great little mountain town. I can certainly see Rhea and me spending a summer here. That would be unreal.

It was a quiet, low-key night. I caught up on some work and some writing, and we were both in bed by 9pm. My mom's flight home was the next morning. A great ending to a great trip for her.

Rhea

Rhea loved the cold. At 27F, she bounced from one open window to the other, happily freezing her face off.

At the bison, she lost her mind, as always. We've learned the windows have to stay closed now, or she whines and goes crazy. She whined at the wolves too. Distant cousins, after all.

At lunch, she was out cold in the truck. That night, she curled up all cozy with me on the Murphy bed by the fire. She's such a good girl.