After several days of 60 degree temperatures where I traded in my evening ski tours around Snow Pass in the Mammoth Hot Springs area for the skinny tires and the short but steep ride from Gardiner to Mammoth, more typical spring-like weather returned to our little corner of Yellowstone Country. January brought two weeks of abnormally warm temperatures and sunshine, which fueled my desire to get my bike back on the road and allowed me to make my earliest rides up the hill to Mammoth since living in Gardiner.
Now, eight weeks later, it is mid-March—when I typically begin riding the hill with consistency—and I was back on the bike on a late evening ride, with temperatures still hovering around 60 degrees as I pounded the pedals in an effort to battle the massive headwind threatening to push me back to the confines of town. But it was not simply the obstacle of the wind thwarting my efforts at a peaceful evening ride; to my great surprise, I pedaled right through the first major caddis hatch of the season. Though I am usually a little anal about getting the cardio portion of my bike rides under my belt, thus keeping me in the saddle, the constant tap on my glasses, cheeks and neck from the little winged insects emerging with a fervor the like I hadn’t seen since September led me to get out of the saddle to wander to the streamside vegetation boarding the enigmatic waters of the Gardner River.
Today we saw a return of the weather that is more symbolic of spring in Gardiner, with temperatures ranging wildly from the mid to upper 50’s when the sun was out, then dropping into the low 40’s when a deep bank of clouds shrouded the peaks that encircle G-town, and even dipping further when the clouds released the moisture filling their belly.
Taking a break from two grant deadlines and the raw excitement of the NCAA tournament, I loaded Lil’ Stuff, my 17 month old daughter, into her backpack and meandered our way to the Yellowstone River trail--a sure sign that winter is releasing its tight grasp on the Gardiner Basin. Within the first mile of our four-mile hike, we saw three members of the mountain blue bird clan, which caused my little one to squeal in delight. By the time we reached Bear Creek—a tributary to the mighty Yellowstone—we had counted 18 brightly colored mountain blue birds (all vibrant males preparing for the arrival of their duller colored female cohorts), four American dippers scurrying along the banks of both Bear Creek and the Yellowstone while singing their most beautiful of songs, and our first two redwing blackbirds of 2009. Add to this the roaring clap of thunder that descended from the summit of Turkey Pen peak—the first time we have heard this all-too-common phenomenon in 2009—and it seemed clear that another season is upon us here in Yellowstone Country.
~Michael Leach, Director
