John Muir and Yellowstone National Park

John Muir had an amazing handle on Yellowstone National Park. I recently read his article for Atlantic Monthly written in 1898, and was shocked. It read like it just happened yesterday. His writing feels so topical in today’s landscape. He saw places considered off the beaten path today. He understood the importance of wilderness. He had some great things to say about coach drivers. Stagecoach drivers, but they apply to snowcoach drivers too. Some excerpts…

The air is electric and full of ozone, healing, reviving, exhilarating, kept pure by frost and fire, while the scenery is wild enough to awaken the dead. It is a glorious place to grow in and rest in…

He enjoyed the American dipper’s (water ouzel) playful antics. Such beautiful words about an animal I enjoy. The dipper is a songbird adapted to an aquatic lifestyle. A nictitating membrane covers the bird’s eyes while swimming so it can see; kinda like goggles. The nostrils have flaps to cover their nostrils to prevent water from entering. Water ouzel’s produce more oil than most birds to keep the water off of their feathers. The birds will dive in and out of the water looking for insects. One of the most amazing things about these birds is how they swim. The wing motion used to move through the water is the same as their movement for flying through the air. Dippers fly through two media, air and water. (A later posting may have to be exclusively about the Water Ouzel) Rejoice in these incredible birds, and…

Hear the blessed ouzel singing confidingly in the shallows of the river, -- most faithful evangel, calming every fear, reducing everything to love.
 

As a snowcoach driver, I get a kick out of what John Muir had to say about the lives of stagecoach drivers. There are many parallels between stagecoaches and snowcoaches. Luggage is loaded onto the top of the vehicle. Coaches travel together for safety, but space out for visibility. Stagecoaches kicked up dust, while snowcoaches kick up snow. Both vehicles could break down on the road and would. There are times when guests could travel faster by walking than riding a coach. I think we still get some of the same questions today that visitors asked in 1898 when Muir visited Yellowstone National Park.

Among the gains of a coach trip are the acquaintances made and the fresh views into human nature; for the wilderness is a shrewd touchstone, even thus lightly approached, and brings many a curious trait to view. Setting out, the driver cracks the whip, and the four horses go off at half gallop, half trot, in trained, showy style, until out of sight of the hotel. The coach is crowded, old and young side by side, blooming and fading, full of hope and fun and care. Some look at the scenery or the horses, and all ask questions, an odd mixed lot of them: “Where is the umbrella? What is the name of the blue flower over there? Are you sure the little bag is aboard? Is that hollow yonder a crater? How is your throat this morning? How high did you say the geysers spout? How does the elevation affect you head? Is that a geyser reeking over there in the rocks, or only a hot spring?” A long ascent is made, the solemn mountains come into view, small cares are quenched, and all become natural and silent, save perhaps some unfortunate expounder who has been reading guidebook geology, and rumbles forth foggy subsidences and upheavals until he is in danger of being heaved overboard. The driver will give you the names of the peaks and meadows and streams as you come to them…

As a snowcoach driver, I see those questions Muir’s drivers dealt with and I have to laugh. Some things haven’t changed since the stagecoach era, like the amount of time needed to fully see the park.

The regular trips – from three to five days – are too short. Nothing can be done well at a speed of forty miles a day. The multitude of mixed, novel impressions rapidly piled on one another make only a dreamy, bewildering, swirling blur, most of which is unrememberable. Far more time should be taken. Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer. Camp out among the grass and gentians of glacier meadows, in craggy garden nooks full of Nature’s darlings. Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.

And in conclusion…

Stay on this good fire-mountain and spend the night among the stars. Watch their glorious bloom until the dawn, and get one more baptism of light. Then, with fresh heart, go down to your work, and whatever your fate, under whatever ignorance or knowledge you may afterward chance to suffer, you will remember these fine, wild views, and look back with joy to your wanderings in the blessed old Yellowstone Wonderland.

Dipper photo is from the National Digital Library of the US Fish and Wildlife Service (http://www.fws.gov/digitalmedia/cdm4/item_viewer.php?CISOROOT=/natdiglib&CISOPTR=5349&CISOBOX=1&REC=4)