We’re Rich, Aren’t We?
I love being out west. There’s something about the massive mountains, wide-open prairies, the moodiness of storms, the abundance of wildlife in their natural habitat, and the hardiness that comes from the harsh environment its residents endure. It makes me feel like the clock has been turned back, that I can enjoy this natural world as it once was before human civilization started to pave over our wilderness.
Ever since visiting my grandparents every summer as a kid, I’ve always thought Montana was the most beautiful state in the union. Its cowboy culture, teeming with bison and pronghorn, mountains and alpine lakes watched over by grizzly and black bears, and rivers teeming with trout snaking across the landscape.
Being one of my favorite national parks, I’ve been trying to visit Yellowstone in all of its seasons. With a few summer visits in the books, and my winter visit earlier this year, it was fall’s turn. This area is not really known for its fall colors, as far as fall colors go, but the yellow and oranges of the cottonwood’s added some nice contrast to Yellowstone’s landscape. All the animals are busy stocking up for winter and come down from the higher elevations, leaving with me a handful of black bear sightings, one grizzly, and a variety of ungulates, even including a moose!
Then I was off on the long trek north to Glacier, arriving one day before the anticipated government shutdown. Would the park stay open, and if so, what would it look like? Nobody knew! I couldn’t help feeling a sense of deja vu, where my last visit to Glacier started six hours after a lightning strike ignited a fire, closing Going to the Sun road and filling the park with smoke for the duration of my visit. Would my trip be hamstrung yet again?
Turns out, the government did shut down, but national parks were left open with skeleton crews. Now in normal circumstances, I wouldn’t visit the parks so as to reduce the human footprint while there are no services to keep things in check. But I had flown across the country for this, so I spent my several days in the park, taking care to leave my presence minimal.
The park was moody the entire time I was there, low clouds hugging the peaks, with on and off rain keeping me on my toes. The upper peaks got a dusting of snow, while sun periodically broke through the clouds to illuminate the majestic landscape. I was truly blessed with some amazing animal counters. While I was surprised and disappointed not to see any big horn sheep or mountain goats, I was gifted two amazing grizzly experiences and in one situation, a bonus bull moose.
As I was photographing a grizzly in a meadow, out of the corner of my eye I saw a black dot emerging from the trees across the lake. Pulling up my 600mm lens, it was filled with a giant bull moose walking down to the water, first taking a drink, and then walking into the water as if to cool off. But he didn’t stop there, soon enough he was swimming across the lake, with only his snout, eyes, and paddles above the water! As I walked up the road for a more clear shot of the swimming moose, I mentioned to one of the other photographers shooting the grizzly that there was a massive bull moose in the water, who replied “We’re rich, aren’t we?”. Yes, we sure were.
