A 'Close Call' With The Fury of Nature

The first time I attempted to visit Yellowstone was during the infamous summer of 1988, when fire consumed over 300,000 acres of the park and surrounding National Forests. A friend and I were vacationing with family and friends in nearby Starr Valley, Wyoming, and after discussing the various things we might do we decided to make the drive up to Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. The air everywhere in the west seemed to be heavy with that ‘campfire’ smell and smoke tinged the sky, even as far as Salt Lake City. The air seemed to thicken as we neared Jackson Hole and the sun became darker, even though the day was edging towards noon. When we arrived at Jackson Hole, which at the time was a much smaller and sleepier town than it is today, the atmosphere and attitudes seemed subdued, even for Jackson. We stopped in at a local National Forest Ranger Station to see if they knew what the situation was inside the National Park.

The ranger at the station, which is on the way out of town on the highway leading to Teton and Yellowstone, warned us quite frankly to not go to Yellowstone. He was very persuasive and we chose to follow his advice, curtailing our trip and spending some time in Jackson Hole instead, which, while admittedly boring for a single twenty something, was very charming and interesting. So ended my first ‘trip’ to Yellowstone.

In retrospect, I can’t help but feel that I missed out on a piece of history. To see the fires for myself would have been something I could have told my kids and grand kids etc., and probably would have made for a good tale for this blog. It was Labor Day weekend, and on September 5th, Labor Day, we headed home without having seen Wonderland. If we had gone into the park, we had on our first agenda going to see Old Faithful, that stalwart and famous old geyser that is the top priority for most first time visitors to Yellowstone, and for good reason. Its regular eruptions have entertained visitors to the Park since the first white men entered and explored the area, and most likely Native American’s for countless generations before that, though we have no records of that.

Two days later, on September 7th, a firestorm came marching over the low hills near the Upper Geyser Basin, and the nation came near to losing one of it’s most iconic lodges, the Old Faithful Inn. The people still present at Old Faithful, mostly firefighters, faced 200 foot flames and 80 mph winds that threatened the lives of all who remained in the Old Faithful area. It was only blind luck that preserved the lives of those people as well as the lodge and other buildings. At the last minute, winds shifted and the fire moved away from the Upper Geyser Basin, sparing their lives.

It would have been interesting to been able to say I'd been there but days before.