American West Ski/Hike Road Trip-First Half

I hit the road for the ski trip armed with a GPS, a good atlas, 4WD, and a whole bunch of skiing and camping gear. The route was not set in stone, and would evolve with the trip. I’d live cheaply, couchsurfing, camping, or staying with friends as much as possible.

Kyle, TX to Capulin, NM
The longest stretch, and most mundane geography-wise, would be the long stretch out of TX into New Mexico. My goal would be to make it to at least Amarillo, but further would mean less driving the next day and more fun in Steamboat Springs, CO. The drive was relatively uneventful. Central TX needs rain badly. As I crossed the Colorado, most everyone’s boat docks were sitting in the mud as the river has been reduced to a trickle. I did have a small treat outside of La Misa when I saw my first ring-necked Pheasant. I was struck by this bird’s beauty, lustrous green combined with reddish-brown markings. I tried to get a picture, but he was too quick.




Fun with shadows

Glorious West TX sunset

Driving was going well, and Amarillo came and went, so I desided to press on. Around 9 I arrived in Capulin, NM, home to an extinct volcano. I saw a little family-owned RV park; that would serve as a nice little overnight camp. The family was quite nice, and the little boys couldn’t believe I actually was going to sleep outside in such cold weather. I was the first camper of the year.

Capulin, NM to Steamboat Springs, CO
The next morning I woke, packed, and headed up to the volcano. I hiked up to the rim to take a look around. I must say, it’d pretty neat to be up on a volcano that hasn’t been extinct that long, only 60,000 years. That’s nothing in geological time. The Capulin Volcano has a classic cinder cone shape, with hardened lava at the center.

View from the top of the rim into the center

View of the plain below

After leaving Raton I headed up Raton Pass. This is one of my favorite steps on the drive as I feel like I’m finally gaining some elevation. I jammed out to Robert Earl Keen’s “Snowing on Raton” and headed up. 80% of the cars I passes were freakin’ Texans! We might be located south, but we’re not afraid of a little rad trio to do some skiing. CO Springs and Denver rolled by, and soon I was headed west on I-70 towards the mountains. I passed Idaho Springs, home to BeaJeaus Pizza and Tommyknockers brewery. Both are damn good, and worth the stop if you’re in the area. I wanted to hit Steamboat, so I had to pass them by. Maybe on the way back…Soon I took the exit to Steamboat, and curvy little moutain road called 40. About that time the snow really started to come down. came to the top of Berthoud Pass, a high mountain pass that sits right on the Continental Divide. The roads continued to get worse as the snow came down.






Snow falling in big wet flakes

Berthoud Pass and the Continental Divide

My faithful steed, Trigger, back dropped in snow


40-West in icy conditions

Not long after this picture I did a nice little 180° spin in a curve. Thank goodness no one was coming the other way. I slowed down a bit after that. The scenery became glorious as I dropped into the valley below. Snowy landscapes just seem to exude beauty more than their barren counterparts.

Colorado River Valley

Snowy ground matched with puffy clouds



I continued to enjoy Nature’s decoration as I rolled into Steamboat. In Steamboat I’d be crashing with Brett, a guy I met through Couchsurfing.com. He’d graciously given me the use of his futon for my days in Steamboat. Brett has a degree in Electrical Engineering from Georgia Tech, but decided to move out to a ski town for a bit before he entered the hard nosed engineering working world. He rents a cozy 1 bedroom condo not far from the ski hill. I liked the fact that we had to cross ye old snow path just to get to his front door.

Ye Old Snow Path to Brett’s front door

We took it easy, grabbed a couple beers, then headed back to Bretts. Brett stoked up a nice little fire (his primary heat source) and soon the condo was nice and toasty. Almost every condo here has a built-in wood burning stove. They put off an amazing amount of heat while making the wood last much longer than a standard fireplace. I then stretched out on the futon to get some shut eye. Tomorrow would be my first skiing in two years and I couldn’t wait.

The next morning I woke, dressed, and headed out to catch the bus. Steamboat has a great bus system that will take you anywhere in the city for free. Once I hit the hill bought my lift tickets (ouch!) and caught the gondola up. I buckled up my boots and clicked into my skis, curious as to how much the time off had degraded my skiing. I took it easy down the first couple slopes, but after that I pushed hard and skied like hell. Steamboat is a great mountain, with a large variety of trails and lots of lifts. I never waited more that a minute the whole day. The scenery is also top notch.

Steamboat valley below

A cool formation called the Sleeping Giant

Who the heck is that guy?

After a solid day of skiing I headed down for a beer at the base of the hill. While hanging out on the patio I meet Tan, a pretty cool guy who actually turned out to be from Houston. We shot the bull for a while, and were soon joined by a Father and Daughter from Michigan. Brett than joined us when he got off work at 5. We all thoroughly enjoyed the beer and conversation until Brett and I realized we’d better take off. You’ve got to love the high altitude buzz! Brett and I left to go meet some of his pals. We ordered some Chinese delivery and hit the hot tub, which felt great to my tired muscles. We hung out at Andrew, Jana, Lydia, Alex’s until it was time to head home. Brett met Andrew and Jana through Couchsurfing.com when he first came to the boat, then Lydia joined them as a room mate. Alex and Lydia met up in Alaska while Alex was up for the summer. All great people with good stories.

The next morning I slept in a bit, then headed to the hill around 10. My muscles reminded me that it had been a few years since I’d been skiing. The weather warmed up quite a bit until I was just skiing in a shell and a T-shirt. After a good day I headed back down to the bottom of the hill for an après-ski beer. While sitting at the table I was soon joined by some folks from St. Louis who were there with a whole bunch of family. Soon the rest of the family arrived and there was quite a crowd at the table. I was the odd ball out, but it didn’t really matter since everyone was in high spirits. I soon took my leave and headed back to Brett’s.

Not long after I got back Brett got off work, and he, Alex and I hiked up to a breathtaking little spot called Fish Creek Falls. The falls occur where a snow melt stream tumbles off of the rocks to the valley below. Much of the path was still covered in snow, but the view from the top was well worth it. There was a boulder sitting at the top of the trails, so naturally Brett and I decided to climb up. Going up was great, but coming down turned out to be a bit dicey. Nevertheless, we both made it down, then hiked around to another little ledge.


Fish Creek Falls (frozen over)

Boulder we scrambled up

Brett making his way down

View of the valley below with a nice little pool in the center

We stayed, admiring the view, until the rapidly setting sun told us it was time to head back. Mother Nature wasn’t quite done though; she left us with a great sunset over Steamboat.

Sunset over Steamboat

Once back to town it was time to get to the business of dinner. We headed over to Andrew and Jana’s to meet up with them for the night’s activities. Pizza sounded like the route to go, so we ordered up a couple. After what seemed like forever the pies showed up and we quickly made them disappear, accompanied with some great local beer selections from Tommyknockers, Odells’s, and Big Sky breweries. Somebody said Yahtzee, and we all launched into a big fat game, with Lydia joining us when she got off work. We played a few rounds, and I actually managed to score three yahtzees in one game, which I suppose is rare? I certainly don’t know, but it was fun. Then Brett and I launched into a separate game; balancing things on our heads. Brett won with an impressive bottle balance. We headed home soon after.

Andrew showing his Yahtzee concentration skills

Brett the bottle balance champ

Steamboat Springs, CO to Jackson Hole, WY
The next morning Brett and I woke to go catch some breakfast at the local’s favorite little breakfast joint, Winona’s. It certainly didn’t disappoint. Brett and I launched into a good conversation about societal responsibility where engineers can fir in. After the breakfast of the year I told Brett goodbye, and thanked him for his excellent hosting. I then bid a sad farewell to the Boat, but smiled at the fact that I’d be back in June for Ride the Rockies on the way to Alaska. For now it was time to head north to Jackson, WY

Soon after leaving Steamboat the landscape rapidly changed to rolling scrubland, not too pretty actually. After what seemed like forever, I finally glimpsed mountains again, this time the Wind River range.

Wind River range far in the distance

After another two hours of driving I entered some of the most beautiful alpine country I’ve ever seen. The combination of blue skies and white ground made me feel as if I was driving through a dream. As I rounded a bend I encountered my first elk, a big herd grazing up on the hill side. Elk always impress me with their size; quite different than our local Texas white tails.

Frozen over duck pond

A welcoming road

Winter stream ambling onward

First elk of the trip

Soon after viewing the elk I pulled into Jackson, WY. Jackson doesn’t have the typical touristy feel of most mountain towns; it feels like a town that would prosper with or without the mountain. The town square is cornered by four gates made entirely out of elk shed horn from the nearby National Elk Refuge. I was skeptical about the structure being entirely free standing and made form horn, but upon inspection there is no inner support. They do wrap them in Christmas lights though, which makes for a nice effect at night. In Jackson I’d be staying at The Bunkhouse, which is a small hostel. The bunkhouse charges $25 a night, which is a bargain for mountain town lodging. They have around 12 cubby-style beds, and the bathrooms and showers are community, just like a dorm.

Elk-horn archways

My cubby-style bed #6 at the Bunkhouse

After getting checked in and stashing my stuff I met a couple other guys staying at the hostel. Patrick is an Archaeology graduate student going to school in Wyoming, originally from NM. Ryan is a geologist from Pennsylvania who just graduated and moved out West. Both were in Jackson for the skiing. By this time it was getting a bit late, so Patrick and I watched a little Daily Show and I fought the urge to hit the town so that I might get some rest for skiing. That night I slept pretty well, even though there were people coming and going all night long.

Next morning I woke really early and caught the bus up to the hill by 7:30. That turned out to be a mistake; the lifts don’t start running until 9. I killed some time at the picnic table until it was time to head up. Jackson has a really nice 8-person gondola that takes you about halfway up the mountain. Gondolas are nice in that their comfortable and enclosed, but a bit slower since you have to remove your skis to board.

Jackson Hole Gondola

Once up on the mountain I was met with…ice. The whole damn mountain was iced over due to the un-seasonably warm temperatures during the day and re-freezing at night. Jackson Hole is also a very steep ski area. That made for trying skiing, grinding the edges out all the way down. I made 7 runs or so, then decided I’d go have some cider and wait for the ice to melt a bit. Once down I saw that everyone else had the same idea; practically no one was going back up on the hill. Conditions would stay that way for most of the rest of the day since the sun never came out. I went up and skied some more, but called it a day at around 3. It’s just no fun on ice.

View from the Jackson Hole slopes

The valley below

Since I got off the hill early I decided I’d go explore the town a bit. Jackson has quite a few interesting shops, and some stunning photography galleries. Once shop even has a stuffed Sasquatch. After talking with the owner a bit I learned the really interesting part is that people come in all the time and tell him how it should be changed to match, based on their first hand observations. Hmm…The town square has several interesting historical markers, including this one referencing John Coulter. Coulter was a member of the Lewis and Clark expedition, and is generally credited with being the first white man to view Yellowstone.

Bigfoot, or at least a stuffed guesstimate of him

Plack referencing Coulter in Jackson town square

After my little ramble around town I headed back to the hostel and met up with Patrick and Ryan. We’d heard of reggae/ska band playing at a bar down the street called 43 North, so we decided to go have a couple beers and check it out. The bar was pretty empty until the band got kicking. They ended up being pretty fun to listen to, playing lots of Bob Marley along with some up-beat jazzy sounding stuff. The had a full brass section, and a whole nine people on stage. After a bit Luka came to join us. Luka is from Slovenia, and came to the states to ski for five weeks. By now the good times were flowing right along with the beer, and Patrick made the wise decision to head out. We kept at it, and soon Ryan dropped the first round of shots. I had to retaliate with some Texas-style tequila shots. The rest is history. Lots of rounds later we closed the place down at 2 a.m. and headed back. Ryan had left about 10 minutes later, presumably to go back to the hostel. Luka and I made our way back, but Ryan was no where to be seen. Ryan finally rolled in about 10 the next morning; said he woke up on a bench in a building lobby with no recollection of how he got there. Luka had no memory of walking home. Definitely a night for the books.

Patrick, Ryan, and I waiting for the band to start

Ryan jammin’ along with the band

Ryan, Myself, and Luka the Slovenian at some unknown point in the night

Obviously after such a banner night I was not the first on the hill the next morning. I finally fought through the hangover and hit the slopes around 11. Icey, but skiable. Made a few runs, then went and sought the advice of a good boot fitter since my boots were killing me. Managed to meet Emily, who turned out to be extremely knowledgeable and helpful. Headed back at the end of the day, then grabbed some Mountain High Pizza Pie with Patrick and Luka. After the night before nobody felt much like going out, so we spent the rest of the night chatting back at the hostel. I hit the sack, excited about finally seeing Yellowstone.

Jackson Hole, WY to Yellowstone National Park
The next day’s drive promised to be a scenic one, with the first stop at the National Elk Refuge just North of Jackson. The National Elk Refuge is the wintering grounds for more than 6,500 elk from the surrounding area. The elk spend the spring and summer in the surrounding high country and nearby Grand Teton National Park, but are forced out due to the snow fall. They congregate in a large valley that now serves as the refuge. The elk are all completely wild and free ranging, and are only fed when severe snow covers the valley floor, making it impossible for the elk to get down to grasses below. There are lots of elk here in the winter. In the short hour I spent in the refuge I would guess that I viewed over 1,000. They covered the hillsides, grazing lazily along.

Elk in the National Elk Refuge

After leaving the refuge I started on my way to Yellowstone. The first segment would take me up and over the Tetons, via the Teton Pass. The view from up the pass was glorious; this truly is magnificent country.



Teton Pass

I’ve wanted to go to Yellowstone for years, so I was excited to finally have the chance. During the winter only the upper third or so of the park is open due to the immense snow fall. That meant that I had to go a round-about route that would take me into Montana, then drop down to access the Northern entrance. The Northern entrance is guarded by the imposing Roosevelt Arch, a fitting reminder of the level of importance of places like Yellowstone. I’d hoped to see Bison while in Yellowstone, and it didn’t take long. I thought the sign in the picture was a bit of an understatement.

My first afternoon in Yellowstone was spent getting my bearings within the park and finding my camp ground. The level of geographical diversity within just the top third of the park is astounding. It shifts from dry and arid mountain areas to rich evergreen alpine in less than a mile. I drove along, mesmerized by the wild bison herds on either side of me. They seem to call back to a time when this country was still truly untamed, when the land was open and wild.

Upon cresting a ridge near the Lamar valley I saw several people set up with spotting scopes, watching the valley below. Once I got out my own binoculars I experienced one of the biggest natural thrills I’ve ever had…wolves. The Druid Peak wolf pack was down in the valley below, lazying about and interacting with one another. I’ve always been enamored with wolves. They have a complex social structure, and fill an important niche in the ecological environment. To actually be able to watch a wild pack in person was mesmerizing.

The Yellowstone wolves represent one of the greatest successful restoration efforts in history. From a few dozen wolves re-introduced into the park in the mid-nineties there is now a thriving and diverse population of more than 150. The wolves have established many separate packs and territories and returned the park to a predator/prey balance that hadn’t existed for over 70 years.

The wolves set the tone for the rest of my visit to Yellowstone. I spent my remaining days hiking various trails through the park and admiring the natural splendor of my surroundings. One day I hiked up to Tower falls, a 6 mile trip, mostly through snow. It was worth every step. For those who have never been to Yellowstone, I strongly urge you to go. It is simply a natural treasure. Try if you can to visit during a non-peak season. I hear that the traffic in the summer is murderous. I’m not going to go into a lot of detail about the pictures I’ve included here; most are powerful enough to speak for themselves. I wouldn’t see the wolves again, but on my final night, a night clear and cold, they joined the coyotes in creating a wild symphony that lasted nearly all night. I slept that night to a wolf song lullaby.

Roosevelt Arch-Gateway to Yellowstone

This sign was a bit of an understatement

A large bull bison

A very fuzzy picture of two wolves; it’s tough to take pictures through a scope

Sunset on the first day

Mountains against the night sky

The Yellowstone river

Tower Falls

Me sporting my fashionable gaiters for hiking in snow

Yellowstone River

Grazing bison herd

Soda Butte Creek

Soda Butte Creek

Lamar River Valley

Lamar River Valley

Yellowstone National Park, WY to Big Sky, MT
Today I’d make the relatively short (3 hrs) drive up to Big Sky, MT. I packed up my Yellowstone camp, then went to have a dip in the hot springs where they meet the Gardiner River, a place known as boiling river. Here extremely hot water from the nearby Mammoth hot springs flows under ground, then emerges a flows for a round 50 yards before joining the cold Gardiner River. The result is a natural jacuzzi where moving a foot or two away from the springs can change the water temperature 30 degrees. I found a nice spot, and enjoyed the soothing water for a bit. On the hike out I watched two Canada geese having a seemingly-great time near the hot springs. These two would race through the rapids like pros.

Boiling river where it emerges from underground

The hot springs swim area

Rapid-running Canada geese

After leaving the hot springs I hiked back shirtless, enjoying the warm afternoon sun. I drove up to my camp site near Big Sky, MT. On the way to Yellowstone I had scouted out a nice little national forest camp site along the Gallatin River near Moose Creek. I came to call it Moose Camp. Big Sky is a great ski mountain, but there is little there besides the resort. The resort and associated condos dominate the area, and I had little interest in staying there, but Moose Camp was only about 15 minutes away, and I had it nearly all to myself. I pulled into Moose Camp and got my simple camp setup, then admired the river for a bit, wishing I’d brought a fly rod. I cooked some dinner, and then did my best to type out some of this trip log, risking frost-bitten fingers along the way. Soon I retired to the relative warmth of my tent to get ready for the next day skiing.

Moose Camp along the Gallatin River in Montana

Me beside the river enjoying sunset