In a previous career I was a Park Ranger, working in Yellowstone National Park.
During my final tour in the park (this is early 2000s), at one point I had some time off coming that wasn't for other uses. Normally on my days off I would drive the 1.5 hours into Jackson, Wyoming to do some grocery shopping and hit the library. Check out a few books and borrow a computer for a little bit to check my email or browse the Internet. The ranger station only had dialup that could only be used in the evenings.
Anyways, this time, I was blessed with two days off back to back with nothing planned, so I booked a backcountry campsite clear on the other side of the park in the Cache Creek area. If you look at a map of Yellowstone, it's in the far upper right corner.
I got up early before dawn and drove the ~3 hours up to the trailhead. It wasn't a bad hike. Beautiful day, clear and sunny. I seem to recall it was about 5 miles in to the campsite, a bit strenuous near the beginning but easier once you got into the valley. I took my time. Set up camp about dinner time, made some mac and cheese and enjoyed nature. Didn't say a word. Just ate in silence.
The sun set, and the illumination I had was provided by my flashlight and a small battery powered lantern. I read some by lantern. It was chilly - yes, even in the summer Yellowstone gets a bit cold after sunset. Before going to bed, I turned the lantern off and just sat. Not doing anything but just sitting, looking and listening.
Stars.
So many stars.
One of the few times in my life I was ever able to see the band of the Milky Way was that night in Cache Creek. It was beautiful, but that wasn't the most amazing part.
The absolute quiet of the area allowed you to hear every single little sound and the darkness seemed to amplify them. You could hear even a slight breeze rustle everything around you.
And I could swear I heard wolves howling.
Sitting there beneath that huge blanket of stars surrounded by nothing more than the sounds of nature, I couldn't help but think that I'm looking at the same things, hearing the same things, that the Native Americans and early trappers in the area heard and saw, unspoiled by the modern world.
That hike gave me a deep appreciation for the need to protect these spaces. Not just as parks for everyone to visit, although that is important, but the importance of preserving the backcountry experience in as pristine and natural a condition as possible. At one point while I was working at YNP one of the other rangers told me that 90% of the visitors to YNP never venture more than 200 yards from the road. But for those who can make the hike out into the backcountry, the experience is more than worth it.
Also, as a side note, if you're interested in the National Parks and the (incredible) story of how we're protecting these places, I highly recommend Ken Burns' The National Parks: America's Best Idea. [0]
During my final tour in the park (this is early 2000s), at one point I had some time off coming that wasn't for other uses. Normally on my days off I would drive the 1.5 hours into Jackson, Wyoming to do some grocery shopping and hit the library. Check out a few books and borrow a computer for a little bit to check my email or browse the Internet. The ranger station only had dialup that could only be used in the evenings.
Anyways, this time, I was blessed with two days off back to back with nothing planned, so I booked a backcountry campsite clear on the other side of the park in the Cache Creek area. If you look at a map of Yellowstone, it's in the far upper right corner.
I got up early before dawn and drove the ~3 hours up to the trailhead. It wasn't a bad hike. Beautiful day, clear and sunny. I seem to recall it was about 5 miles in to the campsite, a bit strenuous near the beginning but easier once you got into the valley. I took my time. Set up camp about dinner time, made some mac and cheese and enjoyed nature. Didn't say a word. Just ate in silence.
The sun set, and the illumination I had was provided by my flashlight and a small battery powered lantern. I read some by lantern. It was chilly - yes, even in the summer Yellowstone gets a bit cold after sunset. Before going to bed, I turned the lantern off and just sat. Not doing anything but just sitting, looking and listening.
Stars.
So many stars.
One of the few times in my life I was ever able to see the band of the Milky Way was that night in Cache Creek. It was beautiful, but that wasn't the most amazing part.
The absolute quiet of the area allowed you to hear every single little sound and the darkness seemed to amplify them. You could hear even a slight breeze rustle everything around you.
And I could swear I heard wolves howling.
Sitting there beneath that huge blanket of stars surrounded by nothing more than the sounds of nature, I couldn't help but think that I'm looking at the same things, hearing the same things, that the Native Americans and early trappers in the area heard and saw, unspoiled by the modern world.
That hike gave me a deep appreciation for the need to protect these spaces. Not just as parks for everyone to visit, although that is important, but the importance of preserving the backcountry experience in as pristine and natural a condition as possible. At one point while I was working at YNP one of the other rangers told me that 90% of the visitors to YNP never venture more than 200 yards from the road. But for those who can make the hike out into the backcountry, the experience is more than worth it.
Also, as a side note, if you're interested in the National Parks and the (incredible) story of how we're protecting these places, I highly recommend Ken Burns' The National Parks: America's Best Idea. [0]
[0] http://www.pbs.org/nationalparks/