Reflections on my First Winter in Yellowstone

Dark clouds furiously blew in over the south part of the park this week, and as the trees swayed back and forth in the wind the snow began to fall in the same proportions as it has since November. As three interpretive Park Rangers skied the Storm Point trail, it became obvious that the sunny skies were not coming back, at least not on that day!Another winter storm warning was in effect and I quickly realized that Mother nature, once again, was going to blatantly ignore our Park calendar.


The interior of the park officially closes for the winter season on March 15. The northern road, which is plowed all winter, will of course remain open.  However, the roads which have been groomed for over-snow vehicles will shut down as the Park prepares for summer traffic. During the next two months giant plows will work on carving out the densely snow-packed roads that have quite literally turned into slabs of ice. Although this hard work has already started in the northern part of the park, they will not reach Grant Village, in the south, for at least another month. Grant Village and the road south is the last place to get plowed out, which means that while everyone else in the park is driving their cars the hardy folks at Grant will still be riding snowmobiles!

While most are rejoicing in the onset of Spring I find myself feeling a little sad that winter is coming to an end. I know that my workload and daily job duties are about to change dramatically. I will no longer have the luxury of arriving to a quiet warming hut, with my thermos of tea in hand, where my early mornings are spent in solitude- immersed in the resource. The rhythmic daily cycle of shoveling, chopping kindling and packing down the trail will soon be replaced will summer chaos.

Most people assume that winter in the interior must be dreadfully lonely, and for some this might be true. But not for me! The truth is, that in light of this solitude it seems that everyone pulls together and suddenly your circle of friends triples.  Each morning as visitors arrive at the warming hut I grab my hat and walk out to the parking lot to greet the newly arrived faces. The guides, who have all become my friends, give me a big wave as they shout to their visitors "This is Ranger Sabrina, everyone". Their is always a few minutes to chat with each of the guides while the visitors run to the restroom, and it is within these few minutes that we quickly exchange stories, learning a little more about each other as the days go by. The relationships change as the season progresses and soon the guides begin to ask if there is anything I need from town. My favorite day this winter was when one of the guides pulled out a tangerine from his pocket and said "this is for you".  A sure indication that I had been officially "accepted" into Yellowstone's Guide circle!


Now it is the end of the winter season and I exchange hugs and words of good luck to all the guides as I know it may be some time before I see them again. I remind them to visit me in the summer and I thank each of them for making my first winter in the interior truly memorable. But the memories of my first winter in the interior will include more than the relationships built. My memories will include watching otters, tracking wolves, counting swans, and the terrify feeling of passing bison on a snowmobile for the first time. My memories will include the look of remorse on a man's face when he admitted to me that he accidentally  drove his snowmobile off the road into Lewis Canyon, where his sled was now sitting in the river, a 400 foot drop down from the road's edge. Nor will I forget laughing with one of the guides as we duct-taped the broken hood of his visitor's sled- broken because the visitor neglected to stop and smashed into the back of his guide- hence our laughs were actually the laughs of pure astonishment! But most of all I will always remember the faces of bliss, happiness, amazement, fear, shock, wonder and curiosity, as each visitor arrives at the warming hut, responding in their own way to their winter adventure through Yellowstone Park...much in the same manner as how I have responded to my first winter in Yellowstone.




     

Lessons Learned the Hard Way

Ten years ago my best friend, Jennifer Chenier, and I were finishing up the final chapter in earning our College degrees. There were fifteen of us in our programs graduating class; our small size due to the limiting factor that the program included living at a small ecological field station in Lachute, Quebec. While living at this field station the fifteen of us lived, worked and studied together. It was the same year that the show Survivor came out, and after watching each episode ritualistically, Jenn and I would often return to our dorm room and fantasize about who we would "vote off" the field station if we had such a luxury! I know this may sound mean but living, working and playing, in the woods, with the same fifteen people for six months presents a variety of challenges, especially when everyone is under the age of 22!

Soon enough though, December had arrived and our field station term had ended. It was time to spread our wings and see what the real ecology work-world was like by completing a two month internship. Our classmates all had different visions- some stayed close to home while others traveled to far away places. I was a strong-willed, sassy 21 year old who had firmly declared "I am DONE with winter". After ample searching I finally accepted an internship as a bird rehabilitator in the beautiful Florida Keys. With a little coercing, I was able to convince Jenn that indeed, this was the internship she wanted as well! And so, on a frigid January morning in Montreal we boarded a plane and flew to South Florida.

One of our running jokes throughout our internship was to wait for the most sublime "Florida Keys" moment  and then say "What would Lisa be doing right now?". You see, Lisa was one of the fifteen; but rather than going someplace sunny she accepted an internship tagging Bighorn Sheep in Little Bighorn NRA in Wyoming....in January. At that moment in my life, I thought her internship was the most absurd decision anyone had ever made. After all, who in their right mind would go to Wyoming in January?


In any case, upon saying "What would Lisa be doing right now?", Jenn and I would thoughtfully pause, visualize, and then crack up laughing as we would bask in the island sunshine. Our visualizations were always quite the same: Lisa walking on a snow-covered plateau, pushing slowly through the fierce wind and snow with a staff in hand. Our joke never got old during our internship but now the joke is on me.

Last week I found myself skiing in the backcountry of Grand Teton National Park. The eight days prior to this trip, Mother Nature had graced us with several feet of fresh new snow and a tremendous amount of wind. The weather conditions however, mattered little to me as I was determined to embark on this trip that I had been planning since the Autumn. The destination of this 3 day journey was Upper Berry Patrol Cabin; a perfect cabin along a creek surrounded by steep canyon walls. With a fifteen pound pack strapped to my torso I quickly discovered that the 11 mile journey to the cabin was NOT going to be easy. With every step I took I sank through 12 inches of powder, the wind and snow whipping me in the face. Crossing over the frozen lake, I broke trail for what seemed like a eternity, however I know it was probably closer to 10 minutes. Shane and our friend Dan slowly followed in my narrow cross country ski tracks, which sadly did little to help them since they were wearing their fat downhill skis.   Periodically, I would look up and around only to discover that I was now the leading character in a movie called What would Lisa be doing right now?!


Upon crossing the lake, our next challenge was a series of ups and downs through the mountains- with many more ups than actual downs! These ascents and descents mirrored my emotional status for the next 5 hours. I experienced moments of intense frustration where words, that I shall not repeat for my mother's sake, flew out of my mouth at rocket speed! I was angry at the snow, the wind, the mountains, my skis and even myself. But after each self-satisfying ascent I was refreshed with a burst of energy and suddenly everything in the world was once again beautiful! This emotional roller coaster while hiking/skiing was not new to me...in fact I have been known to cry on the trail before (but that has only happened twice, I swear!). To better deal with my negative emotions while hiking I have learned that my ipod can work wonders. It shifts the focus from my negative mental status to the vibrant and energy boosting sounds of the music. Grooving to my music, Dan asks what I am listening to. Unwilling to admit that the urban tunes of Rihanna, Sean Paul and Wyclef are booming through my earphones while we are surrounded by the beautiful serenity of the Teton's backcountry , I diplomatically respond "Oh, you know, a little of everything".


Comparatively speaking, my mental anguish was nothing in respect to my husband's physical anguish. Skiing with his heavy downhill skis and borrowed boots, each step he took weighed approximately 6 pounds more than mine. About halfway through our trip his pace began to slow and his legs tired. Despite the wind and cold he skied in his fleece jacket and still complained of being hot. His face reddened and his rest breaks increased. I slowed my pace so that I could stick close to him. Taking a quick 5 minute rest I asked him what was hurting, to which he exhaustively answered "Everything". When your 6 to 8 miles in the backcountry "everything" is NOT what you want to hear! My selfish mental anguish quickly dissolved as I shifted my undivided attention and concern to Shane's well being. I offered up my coveted ipod- he declined. I offered to take some of the items from his pack to lessen it's weight- again he declined. Skiing in silence I mentally layed out a "worst case" scenario plan of action in my mind. I knew how to build a snow cave, I had plenty of food and water, I had a park radio, and Dan, who is a law enforcement ranger was just ahead of us on the trail.

Luckily, the worst case scenario never materialized and once we rounded the corner and saw the cabin we both breathed a deep sigh of relieve. Smoke emanated from the chimney; a sign that Dan had already been there for a while.  Arriving at the cabin, Shane ungracefully plunked down in the chair. Removing his sweat soaked clothes he was instantly chilled. I searched his pack for some dry clothing for him to put on while also wrapping my sleeping bag around him. As he removed his socks, he revealed why one should never borrow boots for an 22 mile RT ski: Giant and bloody blisters covered the backs and sides of both feet.

For next 36 hours Shane pretty much sat in the same position, with feet propped up next to the fire. Periodically, I checked his feet, cleaned his wounds and forced him to drink a lot of water and tea. I gave up my two day supply of multi-vitamins in hopes that it would boost his energy. I pampered him and fulfilled his every request. But there was still much to do even though we had reached the cabin.


The work does not end when you arrive at a back country cabin. The fire needs to be stoked constantly, wood replaced and kindling chopped. There is drinking and cooking water to collect from the river and snow to be shoveled from the doorway, windows and outhouse. I felt bad for Dan who had already broken 95% of the 11 mile trail to the cabin and so I tried my hardest to pull my weight and Shane's once we arrived. Ignoring my desire to sit next to Shane in a catatonic state of mind, I went outside and grabbed the second shovel. Then it was off to the creek to collect water, followed by cooking dinner. Sleep came quick that night and the following day was an excellent opportunity to recover and prepare for the 11 mile journey back out.

The morning of our departure I spent a great length of time trying to determine the best method for bandaging up Shane's feet. We all knew that no matter what I did it was still going to be painful. Eight giant band-aids, some moleskin and two ace bandages later, we were ready to start the grueling day. Thankfully, the sun was shining and the winds had ceased. My pack was heavier than when I started two days prior even though we had eaten most of the food, but the benefit was for Shane, not me. Shane willingly accepted my ipod and grooved to the tunes, but not without saying "What the heck kinda music do you have on this thing!". Amazingly, he skied 9 miles in excellent time and form but the last 2 miles across the endless frozen lake kicked his butt. Stopping every 3 minutes, no words needed to be spoken for me to know what he was thinking and feeling. I secretly wished he had smaller feet so we could exchange skis and boots, the way my older sister always gives up her shoes whenever mine start to hurt.  

Arriving at the trail head Shane kicked of his skis and threw one of them a few feet. Frustrated with his own demise he angrily barked at me "can you come here and get these stupid things". Without taking personal offense I said yes, but Dan beat me to it. Making his way to the bed of the truck, Shane sat there silently. Like only a good friend would, Dan gave Shane a high five and a "good job" and then proceeded to help Shane remove his boots.


Arriving back at Yellowstone, Shane's temperament had already shifted back to it's normal happy tone. After a much needed, slightly painful, shower he curled up on our leather couch, where he remained for the next three days! Now don't get me wrong, I do not look at this trip as a misfortune. In fact, it is quite to opposite. Despite the challenges I had a fantastic time and was reminded of several good things:


1- Never wear new boots or borrowed boots for a 22 mile trip.
2- You can never have too much safety equipment.
3- Find the thing that helps you get through difficult moments. (music, singing, writing etc)
4- Push your personal limits but be wise to know your physical limits.
5- Before you take things personally, think to yourself "maybe that person is just having a bad day, or week or even a bad year!"
6- Friendship is truly tested during difficult moments.
7- Being selfless is much more rewarding than being selfish.
8- Overcoming adversary is the best mental medicine.
9-I might be small, but I am mighty!

10-  There is no "I" in the word TEAM!

But even though I am a "glass half full" kinda girl, I think I might just go ahead and cancel our 14 mile trip to the Heart Lake Patrol Cabin next week. Maybe, I'll start looking at the cost of plane tickets to somewhere hot instead! 

Getting Healthy in Yellowstone

Arriving in Yellowstone back in August, I was excited that I would no longer have to drive to work. My previous park position did not have park housing and although my commute was only four miles, it was four miles that I almost resented. Those four miles travelled over a highway, passed four gas stations, one grocery store and a pharmacy. It was not the scenic and serene commute I had become accostumed to. After being a seasonal park ranger for many years I had quietly settled into the norm of living in park housing and only having to walk ¼ mile through the woods to get to the office.

On the first day of heading to my new Yellowstone office I was excited to put my new bike to good use! I rolled the shiny white and blue cruiser out of the garage, jumped on, and headed down the road. I was elated as the wind whipped me in the face and within minutes I arrived at the Visitor Center. Soon lunchtime had arrived, and one perk of living so close to home is you get to go home for lunch. I climbed on my bike and started on my way. Within seconds I discovered that the fabulous ride to work was primarily due to the fact that the road has a slight declination from my house to the Visitor Center. Quite rapidly my breath became laborious and the muscles in my legs tightened up and ached. I looked at the road ahead of me and could see the stop sign, which heads to housing, looming in the distance.

“I only need to make it to the stop sign, and then I’ll take a break”, I told myself.

Staggering to the top of the hill, my handle bars wiggled back and forth as the last of my energy had been stripped. Coming to a stop, I took a few minutes to regain my composure, regulate my breathing and force myself to believe that I could make it home.   Now I know this sounds dramatic, but that is exactly what happens when one hasn’t worked out in a while, suffers from respiratory allergies, followed by moving from 3000ft elevation to 8000ft.

I remembered this event yesterday morning while watching the snow falling from the sky, adding another layer to the 6 inches we had just received overnight. It was only 10am, and I had already snowshoed the West Thumb Geyser Basin, shoveled the warming hut walkway, followed by making three runs to the wood storage area. It occurred to me that after 6 months of being in Yellowstone I have never felt healthier!  I have hiked, biked, walked, skied or snowshoed at 8000 ft or higher every day since I moved here.  My constant fitness regime is purely unplanned and unmonitored- it is simply a lifestyle. It’s yet another one of those perks of being a Park Ranger in Yellowstone National Park.

Upon moving here I had assumed that winter would be the time of year when I gained a few unneeded pounds and lost some of my endurance abilities. I envisioned multiple days cuddled on the couch eating fresh made brownies whilst the snow and cold frightened me from even stepping outside. But oh, how wrong I have been! The truth is, my passion for the outdoors has me outside everyday experiencing the park via skies, snowshoes and snowmobiles while on the job and on my personal time. Aside from being physically active, thereis this added bonus of burning a ton of calories just by trying to stay warm! And so this winter I find myself a prime physical condition. 

Some of my friends had warned me that my food consumption would probably sky rocket, and boy, were they right! I eat MAN sized portions of food three times a day and NEVER say no to dessert, yet I have still managed to lose about 5 pounds this winter. (That may not seem like a lot, but if you know me, then you know I’m pretty small already!)  Recently, while at training in DC my peers and teachers were quite astonished at the amount of food I could consume.  “Where do you put it”, they would say, some of them seemingly almost disturbed at my eating abilities. I tried as best I could to explain what winter is like in Yellowstone but I think some of them still just thought I was a glutton!

   Luckily, despite my excessive eating habits my cupboards remain quite well stocked. For the most part Shane and I did quite a good job at assessing how much food we would need to buy for the winter. We have ventured to town a few times, primarily for ski trips, and along the way purchased a few food items. However, these items have been strictly fresh produce such as milk, eggs, fruits and vegetables. After re-evaluating our cupboards last night I can to three final conclusions:

1-      I need to bake more bread and cookies!

2-      There is really nothing to do with cornmeal except make corn bread!

3-      The powdered buttermilk that I bought, but wasn't really sure why... well it has SURE come in handy!

The one staple item which I was completely unprepared to deal with was Cuban coffee, which incidentally cannot be found ANYWHERE in Montana or Wyoming.  Thankfully, my very understanding mom mailed us a large flat rate box filled with Café Bustelo! Thanks mom!

But, the true test of my new found "prime physical condition" will occur this weekend, as I head out on a backcountry ski trip to Upper Berry Cabin in Grand Teton National Park. The trip will entail a 22 mile round trip excursion with a 10 pound backpack, of which at least 6 pounds is food and water! If I successfully make it through this weekend with relative ease then my next test will be to see what happens in the spring. Will my body understand that I no longer need to consume so much food? Or will I gain 20 pounds due to excessive brownie and ice cream eating?! And how will that bike ride to the visitor center feel after all this activity and acclimatization? Hmmm...questions to ponder, stay tuned…

When Snowcoaches Go Off-Roading

"Hello, hello...anyone there? Can anyone hear me?" said the ominous voice on the park radio. I was intensely focused on my work in the office, but the weird radio transmission made me sit up straight and wonder if I had heard correctly. Silence filled the air. After a minute or so I turned back to my computer and recommenced my work. Suddenly the voice returned "Hello...hello". I waited for dispatch or law enforcement to respond, but no one answered. I began to think that maybe I was simply picking up a transmission from another radio channel or maybe some ill-trained employee was testing their radio. Surely I was not the only hearing this radio transmission, I thought to myself.    

Silence filled the radio frequency again. I sat in my chair unable to focus on my work and unsure of what to do. The radio transmission had sounded crisp and clear, as if they were calling from just outside my window. I couldn't sit still and I was frustrated that I could not make sense of what was happening. I looked at the clock: 2:30pm. I knew well enough that guides and visitors were about to arrive at West Thumb Warming Hut within the next 15 minutes as they made their way out of the park through the South Entrance. Since it was time to start heading back to the warming hut I decided that along the way I would do some scouting to see if I could determine where this radio traffic was coming from. 

A burst of warm air and sunshine welcomed me as I left the dark and stuffy Ranger Station. The last few days had been absurdly warm giving one the false impression that Spring had arrived. With highs in the upper 30's and clear sunny skies, the snow was melting ferociously. I got on my snowmobile and drove around the employee housing area to see if I could find anyone who might have also heard the transmission, but there was not a soul in sight. I decided to head towards the warming hut where I could  continue to monitor the radio and also ask the guides if they had seen or heard anything. I never did make it to the warming hut though, because within 1/4 mile I had solved the mystery!

Rounding the bend on the Grant Village Road I discovered a group of people standing in the road whilst their snowcoach precariously teetered on the edge of a slope. 

Road conditions had been troublesome all day. The continued warm weather melted the snow making the normal packed and groomed roads a pile of soft mush. Snowcoaches have the most difficulty dealing with these conditions due to the sheer weight of their vehicles. If they get to close to the edge of the road, where the snow is softer, they can easily get stuck. This not only happens on warm days but also after a big snow fall. Th easiest thing for a snow coach driver to do is to drive in the middle of the road however with two way traffic this poses a huge safety concern. Additionally, the deep tracks that snowcoaches leave behind can be very difficult for snowmobilers particularly when they are in the middle of the road. And so, it becomes a fine art for a snowcoach driver to master driving in the right lane without getting too close to the edge!

This picture really doesn't do it justice!!

Bringing my sled to a stop, I got off and immediately asked "Is everyone okay?" Once I established that no one was hurt or cold I called for assistance on the radio. Both right-side tires of the snowcoach were deeply rutted in the soft snow along a steep vertical slope. The entire vehicle leaned at a 45 degree angle posing a potential threat of the vehicle rolling down the slope. All the riders had safely exited on the left side of the snowcoach and were now all standing in the road, surprisingly, all in good temperament. Two young children without jackets played in the snow while the grown up's joked about their current status. Luckily the warm weather and sunny skies made the situation more tolerable. 

So much worse in real life!

I explained to the group that it would take about 30 minutes before we could get them out of their current situation. I offered to open up the ranger station if anyone wanted to sit inside or use the restroom, but they all insisted that they were fine and that they were enjoying the beautiful weather. Without any guidance the group began to work as a team shoveling out some of the snow beneath the left-side tires which would help to level out the vehicle. Within a few minutes two more park employees arrived at the scene offering assistance. Twenty five minutes later, with the proper paperwork completed,  the Park's Bombardier came to the rescue by pulling the snowcoach out of the snow! Jubilantly the group cheered and they were soon on their way! 

What started as an ominous voice on the radio ended as a series of auspicious events due to a group of people's ability to stay positive and work as a team. Where most people would have complained and scorned their driver this group chose to unite in order to remedy the situation. Even the park ranger's, who are often separated through work divisions, were united. Two interpretive rangers, two maintenance rangers and one law enforcement ranger all worked together to make sure this group was taken care of and eventually rescued. Returning home from their vacation I have no doubt that each of the snowcoach passengers will share their "near death" adventure with all their family and friends; after all who doesn't love a good Yellowstone survival story!                     



     

Early Dawn and New Beginnings

It’s early dawn and the high jagged domes of the Teton Mountains are covered in a blanket of indigo sky. The air is frigid, and the lack of warm winter gear makes the cold even more bone-chilling. Shuffling quickly through the darkness I remind myself:

“ In 14 hours it will be 100 degrees warmer“.

Twenty-four hours later the sun is rising 2500 miles away from Yellowstone. In white linen pants and a loose fitting sleeveless shirt I discover that I am still sweating despite my well planned "warm weather" clothing. My mom and I leisurely stroll along the boardwalk which guides us over a watery grassland filled with turtles, coots, hawks and delicately shaped herons. We stop under a shaded gazebo and take in the sultry morning while enjoying our morning café con leche and guava and cheese pastelitos. The sounds of exotic birds fill the air. I am a long way from Yellowstone, both physically and mentally.

The next day I head a little further south to the world famous South Beach, Miami. The dawn of a new day begins once again and I am exiting a small apartment only three block from the beach. I have come and gone from this apartment more than a thousand times and it has become my home away from home. Walking down the stairs I find myself suddenly choked up. Tears well up in my eyes as I silently think to myself that this might be the last time I walk down these stairs and get my morning café at the local Cuban bakery. I push back the tears and swallow the choking feeling in my throat- after all, the only constant in the world is change. I elect to enjoy what might be my last visit to South Beach for some time. Another wonderful bike ride with my dad down to 1^st street, followed by an afternoon swimming at the beach. Mentally, we were both in the same state; no words needed, just a mutual understanding that this exact moment in time was indeed special.

It’s early sunrise. I take a deep breathe in and this time it is cold air that fills my lungs. Exhaling, I instantly steam up my glasses. The backdrop has once again changed, and as I round the corner in search of something comparable to cafe con leche I turn to the right to suddenly notice the capital building with a myriad of orange and pink colors behind it. It’s beautiful, but in a completely different and incomparable way to the early sunrise of Yellowstone. The city is still quiet; the streets sleepy, and for a moment the city is mine. I stop to admire the perfect white dome supported by great Romanesque columns. I am injected with an instant shot of good Ol’ American Pride. I soon discover an amazing French Bakery named Vie en France and indulge in an Almond Chocolate Croissant. I wonder what our founding fathers would think about me finding pride and glory through eating a French Croissant whilst admiring the Capital Building.

For the next four days I reconnect with my National Park Service Fundamentals classmates. It’s been one year since we all joined together for a two week training at Grand Canyon. This week marks the last stage of a 5 part class designed to help us better understand the National Park Service, ourselves and others. My classmates reign from all over the country: North Cascades, Saguaro, Channel Islands, Mount Rushmore, Yosemite and so on. Each person as different and as similar as the national park units themselves. We spend the week learning about our leadership capabilities and how to accept others, embrace differences and collaborate by drawing on each of our strengths. We visit museums, monuments and the offices of our leaders. We humbly walk in the shadows of our past great leaders: Lincoln, Washington, Martin Luther King Jr. and our war veterans. 

Standing on the same spot that Martin Luther King Jr. stood while giving his “I have a dream" speech, it is impossible to not be filled with ambition and courage. Change is inevitable but how we act in light of that change makes all the difference. With Lincoln to my back, and Washington ahead of me I vowed to make my existence meaningful. To face life with open eyes and without fear. Standing there, I recalled a photo of King giving his speech. In this photo there is a park ranger standing next to this great leader. Why was the park ranger in the photo? Because Park Rangers protect America's heritage and treasures; from Yellowstone to the Lincoln Memorial, and the Statue of Liberty to Hawaii Volcanos. It is a Park Ranger that you will see at each of these sites, standing tall in their green and grey uniform and flat hat. It is the Park Ranger that raise the flag each morning, greets each visitor with a smile and protects and preserves our American culture.  

At the end of the four days we meet at the Department of the Interior building for our graduation. Our instructor/mentor stands in front of the class ready to present us with our certificate. She is close to retirement from the National Park Service and has spent the week sharing her wisdom and experiences with us. She gives us one final speech before we head back to our home parks. With teary eyes she stands in front of us and expresses that she is honestly and truly proud to call us the future leaders of the National Park Service. And so, I return to Yellowstone with a deeper meaning of what my purpose is in the greater spectrum of life. While making fresh new tracks with my snowmobile, I return with the knowledge that in this great country one can pave their own path, and the path for others who may choose to follow.