The Yellowstone National Park Part 15

Willow thickets abound in great abundance.

Of these varieties the first is found more abundantly than all the others combined. In many places it has fallen down and strews the country to such an extent as to be absolutely impa.s.sable on horseback.

There is very little timber of marketable value, and at first thought it would seem that nature has here lavished her energies in a most wasteful manner.

But the great value of these forest growths, is their agency in the conservation of a water supply for the surrounding country. A glance at the map will show that the Park is in the midst of a vast arid region extending far into the surrounding states. The reclamation of these desert wastes, and their conversion into productive lands, can be accomplished by irrigation alone, and for this purpose the abundant streams which descend from the mountains are the indispensable water supply.

From the summit of the Grand Teton, the range of vision covers probably the most remarkable group of river sources upon the earth. To the north rises the Missouri which flows three thousand miles through Montana, the Dakotas, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas and Missouri. To the east rises the Yellowstone, which, after leaving the Park, flows four hundred miles through southern and eastern Montana until it unites with the Missouri. From the eastern foot-hills of the Absaroka and Shoshone Ranges flow the Wind and Big Horn Rivers through the extensive valleys of the same names in Wyoming and Montana.

Southwardly, across the Wind River Range rises the Platte which flows eastward eight hundred miles through Wyoming and Nebraska. From the west flank of these mountains issue the tributaries of the Green River (afterward the Colorado) which flows through Wyoming, Utah and Arizona into the Gulf of California. Finally, interlaced with the sources of the Yellowstone, and the Missouri, are those of the Snake River which flows through Wyoming, Idaho and Was.h.i.+ngton into the Columbia, and thus reaches the Pacific.

Not only do these streams rise in this limited area; they derive from it most of their waters. In the arid lowlands they receive but slight accessions, and often actually shrink under evaporation. It is therefore from a relatively small tract of country that the future water supply must come for portions of ten states in the great arid belt of the west.

The conditions which nature has established around this remarkable fountain-head are admirably adapted for the creation and maintenance of an unlimited water supply. Over an area of more than 5,000 square miles there prevails an average alt.i.tude of perhaps 7,500 feet; sufficient to insure enormous annual snowfalls, but not so great as to prevent their complete melting in summer. But, that they may not melt too rapidly, the whole region is covered with a thick forest growth cutting off the intense rays of the summer sun, and covering the ground with a vegetable mold through which the surface waters filter but slowly. It is a conservative estimate, based upon observations in connection with road work in the Park, that these forests prolong the melting of the snows from four to six weeks. This condition greatly lessens the liability to sudden floods, and maintains a generous supply of water far into the summer.

It has been estimated[AW] that from the Park alone, at low water, there flows per second 4,000 cubic feet of water. If the time ever comes when this supply is so far used as to threaten exhaustion, there will be found in the basin of Yellowstone Lake the most perfect facilities in the world for the construction of an artificial reservoir of almost limitless capacity at a comparatively insignificant cost. A dam could be thrown across the gorge at the first rapids in the Yellowstone below the Lake, and without injuring the natural condition of that region, could easily be made to quadruple the present capacity of the Lake.

[AW] By Dr. William Hallock, United States Geological Survey.

The Park with its contiguous area thus presents magnificent possibilities in the development of the surrounding country--possibilities of which its founders little dreamed, but which they unconsciously foreshadowed when they declared that this region should be forever set apart for the "benefit" as well as for the "enjoyment" of the people.

Besides its wealth of trees, the Park produces other interesting flora. Interspersed among the forests and ornamenting the open glades are flowers and shrubs in endless profusion. We quote from the description of one of the early visitors:

"The choke-cherry, the goose-berry, the buffalo-berry, and black and red currants, are found along the streams and in moist places of the middle and lower alt.i.tudes. The meadows and hill-sides are spangled with bright-colored flowers, among which may be noted the bee-larkspur, the columbine, the harebell, the lupine, the evening primrose, the aster, the painted cup, the gentian, and various kinds of euphorbia. It is not uncommon to find daises, b.u.t.tercups, forget-me-nots, white-ground phlox, and other field flowers flouris.h.i.+ng in profusion near the melting snow banks during the month of August. Scarcely a night throughout the year pa.s.ses without frost, even though the temperature by day is over 80 F., so that all forms of vegetation in the Park grow and bloom under somewhat unusual conditions. Indeed, when ice forms in the water-pails of camping parties during the night, as often happens, and the petals of the flowers become crisp with frost; even then the blooms are not harmed, but thaw out bright and fresh when the hot sun touches them."

The flowers form a most attractive feature of the Park, and give an interesting study of the way in which alt.i.tude and temperature affect well known varieties. It is only after a second look that one can trace in the mountain dandelion, huckleberry, and other species a resemblance to those of lower alt.i.tudes. The extreme shortness of the season causes vegetation to mature quickly, and before the flush of spring has disappeared from the leaves the palor of autumn makes its appearance.

The mountain gra.s.ses are generally abundant in the open country and even in many places among the forests. The writer just quoted says:

"The pasturage on the many open s.p.a.ces is excellent, the mountain meadows being covered with a mat of nutritious gra.s.ses. The predominating variety is the bunch gra.s.s, upon which the horses of tourists generally subsist, keeping in good condition without the need of oats. Among other kinds, are the blue joint, fescue, and beard gra.s.ses, as well as Alpine timothy, all of which grow luxuriantly."

The early autumns tinge the foliage of the willow parks and other groups of shrubbery with a wealth of color not often seen elsewhere.

Even the frost on the gra.s.s upon sharp mornings seems to have a peculiar beauty, and one may trace terrestrial rainbows in all the perfection of those set in the sky.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE PARK IN WINTER.

From the end of September to the end of May the Park is closed to the tourist; that is, the hotels do not receive guests, and camping is too precarious to be attempted. It is generally possible, however, to get into the Park as late as the middle or end of November, very rarely as late as Christmas. In May, the snowfalls are light, but the acc.u.mulations of the previous winter render traveling out of the question. With great difficulty the hotel company reaches its nearest hotels as early as May 16. Some of the roads remain impa.s.sable fully a month later.

What the fall of snow is in the upper Park has never been determined; but at Mammoth Hot Springs, alt.i.tude 6,200 feet, an average for six years, from November to April inclusive, is ten feet per year, with a maximum of fifteen feet and a minimum of five. But on the Park Plateau, 1,000 to 1,500 feet higher, the fall is certainly much greater. No doubt its light depth aggregates twenty feet. The weight of this snow often destroys the railing of bridges and injures the buildings of the Park.

The drifts acc.u.mulate in phenomenal magnitude. No matter how deep a ravine may be, the wind will pile the snow up in it until it is level with the surrounding country. Some of these drifts on the mountain sides are hundreds of feet deep and never entirely melt away. Even on the general plateau they last until the middle of July. The Canon Hotel is almost buried every winter. The snow actually reaches the second story windows, and the drift behind the hotel would last throughout the summer were its melting not facilitated by cutting it in pieces with shovels. It verily seems that all the conditions of climate here conspire to make this region one of the snowiest in the world.

Of course, general access to the Park under such conditions is wholly out of the question. Only on snow-shoes is it possible at all. The hotel company has a watchman at each of its buildings, who drags out a lonely existence through the two hundred days from November to May. He can talk over the telephone line with Mammoth Hot Springs, and at long intervals he receives a call, and perhaps mail, from "Telephone Pete,"

who travels the line to keep it in order. In some places, also, small squads of soldiers are stationed for the winter.

The art of traveling by snow-shoe is a thoroughly interesting one, notwithstanding the fact that it is about the most difficult method of travel known and is rarely resorted to except from sheer necessity.

The instrument used in the Park for this purpose is called a _ski_ (p.r.o.nounced skee). It is a long slender strip of wood--ash, Norway pine, or hickory--some twelve feet long, four or five inches wide, and just thick enough to give needed strength. About midway of its length is a strap through which the toe is slipped and by which the foot pulls the _ski_ along. The bearing surface of the two _skis_ is about eight square feet, and holds the weight of the body even in soft snow without sinking more than a few inches. The bottom surface is polished smooth and then rubbed with a mixture of tallow and beeswax to make it free from friction. A pole is an important accompaniment, aiding to slide the traveler along and steady him on the _skis_. It also serves as a brake in descending steep hills, the traveler sitting astride it and bearing the rear end into the snow.

Down hill work is indeed glorious. No express train can rival the _ski_ for speed. Its only drawback is danger of accident. On level country _ski_ traveling is simply walking on a board walk, except that the pedestrian carries the board with him, and makes and unmakes the road as fast as he goes. This is hard enough, especially if the snow is sticky, but when it comes to up hill traveling it is a truly laborious matter. If the hill is steep, there is danger of losing one's grip on the snow and sliding backward down the hill. Where the ascent is too steep to work up by direct forward movement, "corduroying" is resorted to. The traveler works up sidewise, stepping up a foot or so with the upper _ski_ and following with the lower.

Generally this sidewise movement is combined with a slight forward movement, the _skis_ being pointed up hill at as steep an inclination as they will hold.

The dress and equipment of the snow-shoe traveler are reduced to a minimum consistent with protection from the climate. This protection is really needed only at camping places, for the extraordinary exertion of traveling keeps the body in a continuous glow of warmth.

Generally, warm woolen underwear, with canvas surface garments to keep out the wind and to shed snow, are the essential features of the dress. No overcoat is worn, but a tightly drawn belt takes its place.

The feet are the weak point. "Natural wool socks, then a pair of Indian moccasins, then a pair of heavy gray army socks, then Arctic overshoes and leggings," is the description of an equipment actually used. A broad hat is frequently worn to keep snow out of the neck, and colored gla.s.ses are indispensable to prevent snow blindness.

Baggage is limited to the strictest necessities, and is so packed that it will rest uniformly on the back from the shoulders to the hips.

No eating of snow or drinking of water can be safely indulged in while _en route_. The traveler must go strictly "dry" between meals.

[Ill.u.s.tration:

_Terry Engr. Co._ _Haynes, Photo., St. Paul._

Geyser Basins in Winter.]

Of course traveling of this sort is attended with much peril. A man must rely wholly on himself. No wagon or saddle is available if he is injured or sick. Heavy storms may blind him and cause him to lose his way. In short, a snow-shoe trip through the Park is an undertaking which requires a vigorous physique, a determined will, and a good fund of courage. Very few, except those whose duty has required it, have ever made the attempt. But it is the unanimous verdict of those who have, that, glorious as the Park is in summer, it is even more glorious in winter. One can readily understand this to be so.

Evergreen forests never appear to better advantage than when laden with snow. Ice formations always enhance the beauty of water-falls.[AX] The rolling open valleys of the Park must be doubly beautiful when robed in drifted snow. It is a pity that this silvery landscape should forever remain excluded from the general view.

[AX] For picture of Grand Canon in winter, see p. 257.

CHAPTER IX.

THE PARK AS A HEALTH RESORT.

The climate of the Yellowstone National Park, to any one with a fair reserve of health, is of the most beneficial kind. The general public will be interested in the subject only as it relates to that season when it is possible to visit the Park.

For the six months beginning with May, the average temperature will not vary much from the following figures, Fahrenheit:

Maximum. Minimum. Mean.

May 77 25 49 June 87 30 55 July 91 36 64 August 90 36 61 September 85 25 54 October 72 18 41

These temperatures are for Mammoth Hot Springs. For the Park Plateau they should be diminished by not less than ten degrees. No month of the year in that region pa.s.ses without ice-forming frosts. It will be seen that during June, July, August, and September, the thermometer makes excursions to the neighborhood of the nineties. This, however, is only in the middle of the day, and is due to the direct intensity of the sun's rays. No such heat pervades the general atmosphere. As soon as the sun is near setting, the temperature falls rapidly. The night temperature rarely gets above 55 or 60, and averages scarcely half as much. The Park is noted for its delightful sleep-giving qualities, which const.i.tute no small part of its claim as a health resort.

Summer in the Park is comparatively short. It may not be strictly true that "the Park has only three seasons, July, August, and Winter," but it is true that July and August are the only two months free from the ordinary characteristics of winter. Snows are frequent in June and September, while May and October are well on the snowy side of the year. July and August are the Park summer. The weather is settled. The air is pure and bracing and not too cold. The long imprisoned vegetation bursts suddenly into full life and beauty, and in a short period take place all the changes which require months in lower alt.i.tudes.

That there is life and health in that summer atmosphere, no one who has breathed it will deny. At the same time, as has already been hinted, it is healthful only for those who have some foundation to build upon. Persons suffering from any form of heart disease or advanced pulmonary trouble, or those greatly reduced in strength from any cause, would better stay away. The alt.i.tude and sharp air might prove too severe.

A matter which has naturally attracted considerable inquiry is the therapeutic value of the mineral springs of the Park. The superst.i.tious faith in the efficacy of mineral waters to restore health, which has characterized mankind in all ages, caused the physically afflicted to hail the discovery of that region as the promised fountain of new life. The first explorers to ascend the Gardiner in 1871 found "numbers of invalids" encamped on its banks, where the hot waters from Mammoth Hot Springs enter the stream; and it is recorded that "they were most emphatic in their favorable expressions in regard to their sanitary effects."