222 CHAPTER 17. Our Fourth and Final Snowed-In Winter at Old Faithful
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222 CHAPTER 17. Our Fourth and Final Snowed-in Winter at Old Faithful (1960-61) On 6 October, Chief Ranger Nels Murdock announced winter assignments. We were fortunate beyond belief; we were to have a fourth winter at Old Faithful. However, we were afraid that if the administrator types in Mammoth found out that Pat was expecting a baby in January, they would not allow us to be snowed in. Pat tried to stay trim as long as possible so that no one would know until we were safely ensconced at our Old Faithful home. Our neighbors in the duplex would be ranger Darrell and Jean Coe (and son Kenny). They had been at the East Entrance during the previous summer. When we heard that they would be our neighbors, we made a trip to East in September to talk with them. We felt that they deserved to know that Pat was expecting and that the baby was due toward the end of January. They said that they were not uncomfortable with the idea, so we were pleased. They seemed like, and proved to be, very nice neighbors and they both were intellectually stimulating. Our plan for having the baby was to go out to West Yellowstone on a snowcoach trip several days before the baby was due, then drive to the Ashton, Idaho, Hospital. We had left our car in an NPS garage at West Yellowstone for the winter. The battery was left in a warm basement. The Coes moved to Old Faithful on 14 October. Stray dogs and cats were always showing up in the Park. Often, people brought puppies or kittens they wanted to get rid of and dumped them with the idea that some ranger would deal with it—and of course we did. We kept stray dogs or cats for a few days or weeks for the kids to enjoy (at that time YNP employees were not allowed to have their own pets), then took them to an animal shelter (e.g., in Billings) if we were unable to find a home through local contacts. In October, we cared for a puppy (Suzzie) for 3 weeks before having to send her to Billings to the shelter. We also were a temporary home for an orange angora tom cat. The kids loved them both and we all really missed not having a pet of our own. Pat and I both grew up with a dog in the family. There were a few seasonal naturalists promised to be kept on duty into the late fall at Old Faithful to help monitor post-earthquake geyser activity patterns. In mid-October, the seasonals were terminated a month before they had been promised and given a one-day notice of termination. Someone at headquarters had miscalculated the budget. In reaction to this, Pat wrote to her mother: "The NPS is the most disorganized organization I have ever seen." Also in mid-October we heard from the Milligans about a close encounter they had with a grizzly bear. This is how I remember Tom's description: Tom and Sharlene (who was about 6-months pregnant) were hiking across the Bechler Meadows on their way to go fishing. At some points the Meadows are very wide, 1,000 feet or more. At one of these wide points the Milligans spotted a grizzly mother and cub on the opposite side of the Meadow from them, a long way away. They initially had no concern because of the distance. But when the sow became aware of them (either by smell or perhaps sound), it began running toward them. Tom said that he thought that the mother bear perhaps thought they were deer, and when the griz got nearer she would stop and retreat from the detected humans. But she kept coming and it became obvious that she wasn't going to stop! Sharlene tried to climb a tree, but fell to the ground. Tom diverted the bear from vulnerable Sharlene. Tom said that he then started running in circles around a tree, with the sow on his heals in hot pursuit. He either ran out of energy or realized the bear was going to catch him, so he 223 stopped, faced the bear, and put his arm in front of his face to protect it. The sow stood up on her hind legs, facing him, and with a front foot slashed at his chest. Tom's heavy coat draped down in front of him because of his raised arm. The hanging coat absorbed some of the impact of the claws, but Tom had deep claw scars across his chest for some time afterwards. The blow knocked him to the ground. The sow bit him on a buttock and then ran away from them, back toward the cub. Sharlene was untouched and Tom was not seriously injured. What would you have done then? Most of us would have beat a hasty retreat, but not the Milligans! They were special and very gutsy people. They continued the hike on to the stream destination and started fishing. Tom said that, as much as they tried, they couldn't enjoy it (looking over their shoulders every few seconds); after a brief period of fishing they headed back out and made it without a further encounter. Ordering winter groceries went on as it had the other winters, except for one foul up. One of the rangers from West Yellowstone said that he would pick up our winter supply of eggs, 42 dozen, in Ashton, Idaho, and we would then pick them up at West. On the day of the pick up, we received a phone call informing us that the ranger's vehicle had skidded on ice and flipped over. All 42 dozen eggs were scrambled! Afterwards (24 October 1960), Pat wrote as if nothing had happened: “ We have all our case goods— will get incidentals Thursday & see the doctor. Also plan to go down to Idaho for eggs & potatoes within the next week.'” The Old Faithful Monthly Report for October noted: “A bear is in hibernation in the steam-heated den near Gem Pool. At least two [bears] have gone [into hibernation] under the boys dorm behind the Inn.” In the first week of November, Harold Young, of West Yellowstone, was again granted permission to operate snowcoaches to Old Faithful. On 10 November, I wrote a memo summarizing the Firehole River temperature changes in the past summer (D-19). During the week of 14 November, Darrell and I commuted to Mammoth for law enforcement training. By 20 November the rumor was running that the road would be plowed until Christmas. The coyotes had been in the vicinity of our quarters already, but they deserted us for a bison carcass on Geyser Hill. We received word that our first snowed- in winter neighbors, Bob and Vivian Burns, were transferring from Big Hole Battlefield to Perry's Victory National Monument, at Put-in-Bay, Ohio, where Bob was to become superintendent. On 20 December 1960,1 received an offer for a transfer to Crater Lake National Park, Oregon, as a GS-7 Naturalist. We thought to ourselves, you've got to be kidding; we're about to begin a winter snowed-in at Old Faithful and they think we would voluntarily consider leaving! We asked the chief ranger to inform Crater Lake that we were not interested, but that we appreciated the consideration. The winter did not start off well for us. In early December, I came down with a throat infection that sapped all of my energy and involved 11 days of sick leave. After a week of feeling progressively worse, we drove to the nearest doctor, in Ashton, Idaho. He prescribed an antibiotic and after another week I began to feel better because of, or in spite of, the antibiotic. 224 The doe deer "Baby" (with the notched ear) had been a frequent visitor to our quarters vicinity each winter at Old Faithful (1-102). By December 1960 she seemed to be ailing and was absent for more than a week. We finally found her down by Gem Pool (about 1!4 miles north of Old Faithful). She was very weak and moved with difficulty. She seemed to be staying near Gem Pool because of the warm ground and warm water vapor that enveloped the area. We believe that the coyotes got one of her two fawns before Christmas; Baby was no longer strong enough to protect them. During each of our winters at Old Faithful, we had observed a Three-antlered Elk. He had first been reported in the summer of 1955, in the Upper Basin (Lystrup 1955). He appeared to have two separate antlers from the base on the right side and a single antler on the left. Each year he had a similar regrowth of three antlers (Lystrup 1958), so we were sure that it was the same individual each year. He often grazed on bare ground with Geyser Hill as a backdrop (1-103). Before Christmas (1960), the Three-antlered Elk began frequenting the vicinity of our quarters; he had never done this before. He moved very slowly and seemed to be declining in health. Occasionally, we saw him drinking from the Old Faithful Geyser runoff channel; a local coyote began following him and apparently sensed that the elk was weak (1-104). One morning I entered our kitchen and looked out at the bird feeder (attached to the base of the window outside) as I routinely did first thing every morning. The Three-antlered Elk was eating bread crumbs from the bird feeder! He knocked the geyser-watching mirror loose and luckily it held by one of the support wires, rather than crashing to the ground.