A Yellowstone Savage from Fishing Bridge

A light breeze blew a faint cloud of red dust over the railroad tracks, reminding me of the dustbowl days of Oklahoma, which had been the subject of many stories told by my folks and relatives.  Out came my pencil and small sketchbook to record the image of the old train station about forty miles west of Oklahoma City.  Passenger trains were quickly being shut down. I had to travel west to this junction to catch a northbound train.  The only occupants of the old western train station were the telegrapher, a potbelly stove in the middle of the room, and me.  Next to me was my old army surplus duffel bag, which contained needed clothing for cold nights on the Yellowstone.  On my other side was a brown paper bag stuffed full of fruit and sandwiches, prepared by Mother, who knew what I would need for the long train trip.

It was several hours before the northbound train would arrive. In the quiet while I waited, memories of the previous year’s summer came back with visions of Yellowstone Park (YP) and friendships I had made.   My mentor had shown me the ropes and guided me from my position as dockhand to fishing guide on Yellowstone Lake. Remembering the sounds of a light breeze blowing through the pine trees quickened my anticipation of that northbound!

Faint sounds of the approaching train broke the silence.   The sounds of the whistle and the ringing of the bell on the rushing train’s engine could be heard through the open door.  With my ticket between my teeth, I threw my sketchbook and pencil into the duffel bag, grabbed my sack of food, and headed for the door. As I boarded the train and settled into my seat, I looked around and noticed the car was almost empty.  With so few passengers, no wonder the trains shut down.

Once in a while, the silence was broken by a grizzly stomping around on the shore, as if he was wondering what we were doing in this strange thing floating in the water with lights all around.  If a camper had seen us, we probably would have been reported as a UFO, but the bear had no clue, and off he went into the night forest.

After about four hours of shocking, it was time to go back.  Around 3:00 A.M., we disconnected the poles and lights, and stowed everything away.  We passed around the last of the sandwiches and water.  We had no pearl pop on this trip.  Once again, as we passed Frank Island, we could see the night-lights at Lake Hotel.  We headed straight toward the lights.  As we settled down we laid our heads back for a quick nap, we could see a canopy of stars so bright through the  clear air.  I am sure there were eight trillion or more.  The Big Dipper pointed our way while other constellations, which guided sailors through the years, formed their ancient stories in our minds. 

My thoughts wandered back to stories of the first boat on the lake known as “The Anna”, a small canvas craft, about twelve feet long. She was christened on the Hayden trip in honor of Miss Anna L. Dawes, daughter of Hon. H.L. Dawes, a Massachusetts Senator who financed the Expedition.  James Stevenson made the craft from whatever materials he could find.   Then, too, in 1885, John H. Renshawe from the Arnold Hague’s Survey party, put out into Yellowstone Lake in an old sailboat they found.  About 100 yards from shore near Mary’s Bay, the boat was hit by “bolt from the blue” (lightning).  It was a sultry day with no clouds in the sky and the sun was out.  The four men were rendered unconscious, the mast was knocked down and a hole in the boat.  M.D. Scott, an employee of the USGS, was killed by the lightening strike, he was 46 years old. M.D. Scott’s wallet was curiously discovered to contain some $16,000 in cash and certificates.

After a nice nap, it was about 4:00 A.M., and the lights of the hotel appeared larger as we approached the dock.  After we unloaded, cleaned equipment and stored the boat away, it was time for a well-deserved breakfast in the dining room of Lake Hotel.  What a super way to end an adventure on the lake.  By this time, the park was waking up, totally unaware of our night activity. I am sure the dudes looked us over and wondered what the cat had dragged in after an all night binge, but no matter. All I could do was sit back and smile with new memories from Lake before I headed back to the cabin for a long night-day sleep.  Wow, what a place.