Firehole Gold

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Every once in a while when conditions are perfect there is a phenomenon that occurs along the Firehole river. It is a rare event and only a privileged few have had the opportunity to see it. It’s called Firehole Gold and it’s a once and a lifetime experience.

As you might know, or are soon to learn, there is gold in the rivers of the west. In some of them more than others but every river has its share. The gold is in the form of almost microscopic flakes with the particles being small enough and light enough that they can be suspended in the water and carried downstream. Now you can walk up to the river anytime of day and scoop up a handful of water and you won’t see this gold, but it is there, its visibility is only brought out under certain circumstances.

The Firehole river that runs through Yellowstone National Park through valleys and meadows, past thermal geysers, along the highway where you and I can see it, is one of the most heavily laden gold-bearing rivers in the west. Where the source of this gold originates is still under speculation. Some say it is pumped up from a huge gold deposit underground by the many geysers that line the river. The scalding hot water softens the gold and in so doing causes the minute flakes to break off and rush to the surface to be swept down stream by the rivers flow.

Others say that there was once an enormous deposit of gold miles wide, about the size of two or even three of those little States back East and dozens, if not hundreds of feet deep up north a ways, simply lying on the surface of the ground until a glacier came through and pulverized it by using its tremendous mass and weight of ice and boulders to grind the chunks and nugget’s of gold the size of houses into the flakes we see in the river today. This is a very plausible theory because glaciers are really heavy. They don’t even make scales today that could weigh them. But even if you can’t weigh them, the glaciers weigh more than all the heaviest stuff you can imagine put together, except for a mountain, mountains and glaciers weigh about the same, and gold is soft, so a glacier could easily reduce even big fat giant pieces of gold to microscopic dust if it wanted to.

Whatever its origin the gold is there and it will occasionally display itself when the conditions are perfect and the necessary components are all optimally aligned. There is a place along the river’s length just south of the confluence of the Gibbon, the Madison and the Firehole rivers that provides these needs exactly. It is a flat portion of the river’s bank that acts as a giant pan, where the water with its rich load of nearly microscopic gold particles will flow over the many rough-edged pebbles lining the bank thereby sifting itself out of the rivers flow, much like a gold miner panning for gold will do, and briefly deposit itself just under the river’s surface, building up and up until the millions of flakes become visible as a solid sheet of gold only a fraction of an inch thick but thick enough that it can be seen.

This seems to occur near sunset as the sun must be low enough that its glancing rays can reflect the gold beneath the water’s surface. The heat of the dying rays of the setting sun are just the right temperature to cause the flakes to momentarily adhere to each other, forming what looks to be a solid sheet of gold. There can’t be any wind as the agitation of the water’s surface will break up the sheet and cause the flakes to simply continue on downstream. And one of the most important conditions is that you have to be there to see it.

You might think, OK Gold! let’s go get it. But it doesn’t work that way. The flakes are really too small to be filtered out of the water and although gold is still the most valuable object we can get our hands on, there is one thing even more valuable. And that is the fleeting beauty created by this rare interaction of the sunset, the extraordinary land the river runs through, and your participation in the experience. You will spend the gold and it will be gone but the memory of this sight of the Firehole gold will live in your heart forever.

Posted and filed under “Things that are true, kind of”.

Animal Portraits – Otters

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I was walking down memory lane this morning when I found myself along the Madison river in Yellowstone. It was way back in 2005 and I had been hoping to see some elk cross the river. Elk crossing the river is always good shooting. Bulls stopping to thrash their antlers in the water, throwing spray into the air, bellowing, cows bunching up to wait him out before they cross behind him. This was September so the rut was in full force and there was always lots of action.

But there weren’t any elk. They had moved out to greener pastures and the river was empty. I was just getting ready to pack up and find something else to shoot when I heard a high-pitched squealing coming from downstream. It was a young otter that had gotten separated from its family and was crying desperately to be found. It was racing frantically back and forth along the bank, shooting out into the river, climbing everything it could find and continually calling out for the others to come find it. This was the beginning of a very good afternoon.

Now otters in Yellowstone are not rare. But they’re one of those animals that you never see. Not unless you’re lucky. You can spend your entire time hunting for them, chasing down rumors, staking out places where they’ve been and never see one. Then you’ll talk to someone who had been picnicking at one of the picnic sites along the river and they’re all “Oh yeah we saw them. They were fishing right in front of us. One of them caught this great big trout. It was really neat. There was like four of them.  You should have been here. ” Serendipity plays a very big part in Otter spotting.

Now any place along the river is prime otter territory but there are some places more prime than others. I just happened to be unknowingly at one of them at just the right time. There is a spot on the Madison that is called the “Log Jam”. It’s just a little ways upstream past 7 mile bridge in a wide shallow bend in the river. It’s shallower there than the areas above and below and consequently a perfect place for the logs and branches floating downstream to snag and pile up forming the log jam.

This is the otter equivalent of Disneyworld. They go absolutely gonzo nuts in a place like that. First off every part of the Log Jam in an E ticket ride, they crawl up on it, they dive off of it, they wrestle and toss each other into the river. They take naps on the larger logs that are warm from the sun, hang out, talk about their day, fight, play snuggle, goof off, and generally just be otters, plus there’s food all over the place. Trout are always under and around the logs and so are the otters, because the only thing they like better than playing and sleeping is eating.

The otter family wasn’t lost. They were just upstream of the log jam and the youngster was on the downstream side. After Mom heard the little one wailing she gave a few sharp barks and soon they were all reunited again. Thus began one of the most perfect afternoons in the entire history of Yellowstone, Photography, Otter watching and sublime happiness, ever. As if deciding to give this photographer a gift they spent the next several hours swimming back and forth between that Log Jam and the confluence of the Madison and Gibbon and Firehole rivers at the eastern end of the Madison valley. Maybe a distance of 5 or 6 miles. We, the otters and I, plus about a dozen other photographers that joined in, walked back and forth along that stretch of river until I had filled every storage card I had with me with otter pictures and the otters decided it was time to go somewhere else. Without a sound they suddenly turned and swam downstream faster than we could run and they were gone. In the nearly 10 years since that afternoon that I’ve been going to Yellowstone I have never duplicated that experience again.

Fortunately I have these images to remind me of that incredible afternoon. It’s not the same but it’s pretty darn good.

The Hokey Pokey

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You put your right foot in,*
You put your right foot out;
You put your right foot in,
And you shake it all about.
You do the Hokey-Pokey,
And you turn yourself around.
That’s what it’s all about!

We stumbled across this osprey practicing for the annual Hokey Pokey festival held in Yellowstone National Park every September 16th to the 21st rain or shine. Osprey from all over the park assemble along the Firehole river for a week-long orgy of Hokey Pokeyness where they vie for the attention of the judges and admiring tourists and each other. Each attempts to put their own spin on this famous dance routine in the hopes of winning fame and fortune and maybe the eye of some admiring female.

This fellow was having a bit of trouble getting his moves down. He was getting his right foot in without too much trouble but when it came to the part where he had to shake it all about, he’d lose his balance and stick his wing out to recover. This is a definite point penalty, plus it makes him look like a goof. If he doesn’t get this straightened out he can kiss the championship goodbye, not to mention the babes. We watched him for quite sometime and it seemed like he was improving but he had a way to go if he was thinking finalist here.

We will be there covering this event as it happens and look forward to bringing it to you as it unfolds. In case there might be a human out there that has not heard or seen this dance performed we have included this link to refresh your memory. It’s a catchy little tune so don’t blame us if you’re humming this puppy all day. Here you go.

http://kids.niehs.nih.gov/games/songs/childrens/hokeymp3.htm

* Written by Roland Lawrence LaPrise, (with Charles Macak and Tafit Baker). Recorded in 1949. U.S. Copyright 1950, Acuff-Rose Music Inc.
Written by Roland Lawrence LaPrise, who concocted the song along with two fellow musicians in the late 1940s for the ski crowd in Sun Valley, Idaho. The group, the Ram Trio (with Charles Macak and Tafit Baker), recorded the song in 1949, and they were awarded U.S. copyright in 1950, Acuff-Rose Music Inc.

RiverDance

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All of the rivers in Yellowstone National Park have personalities of their own but the Firehole river is hands down the coolest. While the Yellowstone river is majestic and the Gibbon is chaotic and the Madison is grand, it is the Firehole that has the hippest personality of all. It is due to the supporting characters along it’s banks as much as anything. From the dive-bombing Osprey that slice into the crystal clear water, to the occasional coyote that swims across it and even the buffalo that will walk along it’s banks in the water just for the fun of it, the Firehole is more like a refined circus than a carnival.

 Here we have a Mallard duck preparing for the season premiere of Yellowstone’s version of RiverDance. Each year one of the animal groups is chosen to be the featured performers in this season’s extravaganza, and this year it is the duck family, much to their delight. Rehearsing tirelessly the ducks are perfecting each and every move. Carefully choosing the perfect location to show off their classic performances, this rock overhang is the absolute best choice for the climax of his routine.

The show also features the high diving Osprey showcasing their dangerous and heart stopping “Dive of Death” where they plunge headlong into the river and reappear with glistening Cutthroat trout in their talons, plus the zany and carefree Common Mergansers, the mop-tops of the duck world, performing their perfectly choreographed skit “Skipping Across the River Top”. The featured performance though, will be the dancing talents of the Mallard backed up by that Bevy of Bountiful Beauties, the Duckettes, performing a dance routine “Rollin’ On The River” set to the music of Ike and Tina’s “Proud Mary”. It will be a showstopper.

So, don’t miss it. Performances daily at locations up and down the Firehole River. Be there or be square.

Friday Morning Color

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We’re spoiled here in Colorado. We get lots of sun and great weather and we sometimes take it for granted. The last few days we’ve had a big storm and lots of grey sky and cold. Taken separately grey skies and cold are easily managed but put the two of them together and maybe add some wind and before long everyone has a severe case of the screaming meemies. The screaming meemies are usually accompanied by huge meals of high fructose corn syrup and carbs, the bad ones, also, sadly, some people in their despair turn to chocolate. I know, I know, it’s worse than crack but I told you, we don’t normally get bad weather so there is a tendency to over react. The month of February has become known as the month of Bliveting Waist Lines or ‘BWL’ as we say between mouthfuls, because that’s when we can get the dark days where sitting by the fire helps but doesn’t reduce those anxious glances at the window. “Still grey out? Yup. Well here, have this bowl of spaghetti.” So what’s this got to do with todays picture? Well it is a known fact around here that the only antidote to sun deprivation is finding some sun, failing that, a picture full of deep rich, warm color like you find in a western sunset up on the Firehole river in Yellowstone will help and I think this one succeeds very well. Now that I’ve looked at it long enough I find that I don’t need that third bowl of spaghetti.