TWO
OCEAN
Wednesday
morning was a little warmer, but I still had breakfast up on the hill in the
light of the rising sun. We packed up
afterwards and hiked back down past North Fork Falls. From there we backtracked another 3 ½ miles
to the junction with the North Buffalo Two Ocean Trail / Continental Divide
Trail. Just before the junction we ran
into a group of horsepackers at a campsite packing
up. They had a dog that trotted towards
Larry while growling, but Larry didn’t flinch.
They turned out to be a very friendly group of family and friends from
somewhere in Montana. It was their first
visit to the area, and they’d enjoyed their trip despite the disappointing
fishing in the Yellowstone River. They
told us that the bridge over the Yellowstone was in fact being repaired. The ford would be chest deep, but they were
confident that we’d be able to cross the bridge. We would just have to climb up one of the
supports to get on it, as the ramp from the ground up to the bridge hadn’t been
built yet.
We
hiked another quarter mile to the junction and another campsite. As we approached, we spotted a large bird
squawking and strutting back and forth across the trail. It acted like a
grouse, but it was large. Perhaps a
pheasant? It wasn’t happy with us, but
we needed water, so we stopped for a break there.
My
strategy on this trip was to only carry 20 ounces of water at a time to reduce
my pack weight. I used Aquamira tablets each time I filled up so that I wouldn’t
have to constantly dig out my filter and water bladder. That strategy worked well, and it is one that
I’ll use going forward.
We
turned north on the CDT and endured a grueling climb up to the ridge separating
the North Fork Buffalo and Pacific Creek.
It was a hot, sunny day, and we baked in the mid-day sun. Most of the trail was through meadows, so
there wasn’t a lot of shade. At the top,
we found a shady spot on the edge of a meadow with a nice view. We had lunch there, before starting down the
trail towards Pacific Creek.
Along
the way, we passed a small but pretty waterfall on Trail
Creek that would’ve been unexpected if the guidebook hadn’t mentioned it. There is nothing on the topo map to suggest
that there is waterfall in that spot.
After
a short break we resumed the descent. At
some point we joined the Pacific Creek Trail, but I didn’t notice the
junction. That caused some confusion later on. A gradual
climb through the meadows along Pacific Creek led us toward Two Ocean
Pass. The pass is actually
a giant wet meadow / willow swamp right on the Continental Divide. We arrived a junction with a fork to the left
and right. There is an old sign here,
and it indicated that the Pacific Creek Trail was to the left. That confused me, because I’d missed the
earlier junction when we had initially joined the Pacific Creek Trail. I checked the map and GPS, and it looked like
the trail to the right would take us to Atlantic Creek, while the trail to the
left would go to North Two Ocean Creek and The Parting of the Waters.
Our
route was to Atlantic Creek, but we didn’t want to miss The Parting of the
Waters. We took the trail to the left,
which followed the edge of a willow swamp.
Before long we reached a ford of Pacific Creek. There used to be a bridge here, but half of
it is gone, and most of the rest is submerged.
I took my pack off to change shoes and noticed a faint path heading up
the hill above. I decided check it out,
and I found a nice campsite with a pleasant view down Pacific Creek. It was late afternoon, and we didn’t have a
specific place to camp in mind. I was
worried that Two Ocean Pass would be buggy, but there was a nice breeze up on
top of that hill. I mentioned it to Larry
and suggested that we camp there and hike without packs over to The Parting of
the Waters. He took a
look at the campsite and agreed.
We
set up camp, but there was one mishap.
We needed to hang our extra food or carry it with us. Larry had a fancy bear bag cord attached to a
small pouch. The idea is that you put a
rock in the pouch and toss it over a tree limb. I found a promising limb – actually
a fallen tree that was leaning steeply against another tree. It looked
ideal, so I dropped a rock in the pouch and tossed it over. It didn’t work quite as planned. Instead of dropping over the other side of the
tree, it wrapped itself around the limb several times. Oops.
It was thoroughly stuck, and there was no way to budge it. It was way out of reach, and there was no safe
way to climb up there, either. What
could we do?
I walked over to the fallen tree and pushed on it. It had a lot of give, so I pushed harder. Incredibly, the whole thing crashed to the
ground. Luckily I was able to retrieve the bag. Obviously it
wasn't a great choice for hanging our food anyway. If I could push it over, a
bear certainly could.
With the fallen tree out of the way, the main tree limb was an ideal target. I decided to try again, for some reason. My throw was perfect, but this time the cord
wrapped itself around a small branch and got stuck. Unbelievable. Once again it wouldn’t budge,
and pushing this tree over wasn’t going to work.
I decided to try the Spencer Clary “just throw a rock at it” method of problem
solving. I threw a rock at the little stub of a branch where it was stuck. And another. And another. Larry was an amused spectator. I must have thrown over a hundred rocks at it.
It was comical, yet unproductive. Then, incredibly, I got a direct hit. The branch broke, and the bag fell. It would’ve been perfect, except there wasn’t
anyone holding the other end of the cord. The whole thing went over the limb and landed
in a pile at the base of the tree.
I told Larry that I was quitting while I was ahead, and I suggested that he
give it a try. His first throw went over
the limb, but the cord got wrapped around a little protrusion on the tree. It was wrapped tight. Throwing a million rocks at it wouldn’t have
solved the problem. It looked like that cord would be
stuck there forever. Between the two of
us, we were 3 for 3 on getting that cord stuck.
Disgusted,
I walked down into the woods and found another tree branch. It was less ideal, but I managed to get my
cord over a limb in less than a minute.
I hung our food, and we packed up for our hike over to The Parting of
the Waters. I had originally hoped to extend
the hike up to the waterfalls on North Two Ocean Creek, upstream from The
Parting of the Waters. Unfortunately they were a good distance away, and we didn’t
have enough time.
We
waded Pacific Creek and followed an obvious trail over to North Two Ocean
Creek. We missed the trail at an unmarked
junction, which was hidden by a fallen tree, but eventually stumbled upon
it. We followed it to a crossing of
North Two Ocean Creek, which is just upstream from The Parting of the
Waters. It’s a fascinating spot. There, North Two Ocean Creek splits. The branch to the east runs down to Two Ocean
Pass, where it joins the east fork of South Two Ocean Creek to form Atlantic
Creek. From there, Atlantic Creek runs
to the Yellowstone River, which joins the Missouri River, which joins the
Mississippi River, which flows into the Atlantic Ocean through the Gulf of
Mexico. The branch to the west runs down
to Two Ocean Pass, where joins the west fork of South Two Ocean Creek to form
Pacific Creek. From there it runs west
to the Snake River, which flows into the Columbia River, which flows into the
Pacific Ocean.
If
you read that carefully, you’ll note that South Two Ocean Creek also has a
Parting of the Waters. It’s less famous,
and less accessible, but equally interesting.
Those two creeks are the only ones known to do this in the world.
The
spot is fascinating, but a bit underwhelming to visit. It’s also not terribly photogenic. We spent a few minutes there before hiking
back to camp. When we returned, we
discovered that the breeze had died, and the mosquitoes were horrible. At least we enjoyed a nice sunset over
Pacific Creek before going to bed.
YELLOWSTONE MEADOWS
We packed up Thursday morning and were about to return to
the trail when I glanced at Larry’s bear bag stuck in the tree. I hated to leave it there, for a number of reasons.
For one, it didn't conform to the "Leave No Trace"
mindset. Also, I was pretty sure that
Larry wanted it back. I decided to try a
new technique. I grabbed the cord and
ran full speed away from the tree. It
didn’t come free, but that did loosen it.
Then I started snapping my wrist, kind of like a fly
fishing motion, to see if I could get it loose. Incredibly, that actually
worked. It popped off and fell to
the ground in front of us. I’m not sure
who was more surprised, me or Larry.
We
returned to the trail and backtracked to the junction of confusion. We turned left there, and a few minutes later
arrived at Two Ocean Pass. The pass
looked just like the Pacific Creek valley – a sea of willows bordered by a
cliffy ridge in the distance. On the far
side of the pass, Atlantic Creek offered up more of the same, though a beaver
pond, dam, and lodge offered some visual interest. We enjoyed some easy hiking on a good trail
with only a few muddy spots. At one
point we passed over a small wooded hill with some
nice campsites. A bit farther on we
spotted a huge bird out in the meadow.
I’m not certain, but I think it was a crane.
We
eventually reached the ford of Atlantic Creek, which had grown considerably
over the last couple of miles. We waded
across where it was wide but fairly shallow. We entered the woods on the far side and
continued another 10 minutes before I called for a break. I checked the GPS, and
decided that we were at the optimal spot for the bushwhack up Yellowstone
Point. Yellowstone Point is a cliff on
the edge of the Buffalo Plateau overlooking Yellowstone Meadows, the
Yellowstone River, Hawks Rest, and the Thorofare. I’d heard that it was a terrible bushwhack,
but worth it for the view.
Larry
took one look at the thick forest above us and decided to skip it. That was good news for me, since it meant that
he could watch my pack while he waited.
I only carried my phone, trekking pole, and water bottle. It was a steep climb – much worse than it
looked on the map. The forest was pretty thick at first, but then it got much, much
worse. There were haphazard piles of
fallen trees everywhere. Trying to avoid
them was futile. Every route that looked
slightly promising just led into another trap of massive deadfall.
I
struggled on, climbing over some piles of logs, and crawling under others. Progress was slow, and the hike was
brutal. To make matters worse, it was
miserably hot and buggy. I was covered
in blood, sweat, and mosquito carcasses.
I
finally reached something of a bench, where I stumbled upon an elk trail. That was pretty incredible
in itself, but of course it was running in the wrong direction. I was trying to go uphill, while the trail
followed the bench on a contour around the hill. I decided to follow it anyway, as I was
little west of the crest of the ridge I had intended to follow. It led to a small meadow, where I startled a
large, highly agitated bird. This one
also behaved like a grouse as it strutted around making weird noises. It was clearly trying to lead me away from
its nest, so I played along and followed it for a bit.
At
the far end of the meadow I found what I’d come
for. The trees were sparse here
(probably because most of them had fallen down the hill), and I had a great
view. I could see the Yellowstone River
winding through the vast expanse of Yellowstone Meadows, in the shadow of the
imposing cliffs of Hawks Rest. Farther
in the distance was Bridger Lake, the Thorofare, and the rugged cliffs of the
Absaroka Mountains.
I
was still well below Yellowstone Point itself, but the remainder of the route
up looked horrible. I couldn’t imagine
that the view would be much better up there.
I decided to take a break and then head back down.
I
took a slightly different route down, hoping that it would be smoother. It looked better at first, but it didn’t
last. If anything, it may have been a
little worse.
I
rejoined Larry, and we continued down the trail towards the Yellowstone
River. Before long we emerged from the
woods into the vastness of Yellowstone Meadows.
We were surrounded by willows, but most of the trail was in decent
shape. There was plenty of mud of
course, but that had been expected. We
waded Atlantic Creek one more time before reaching a stretch of trail on a
boardwalk. The boardwalk itself was
flooded, so we slopped along, trying to ignore all of
the horse shit floating around us.
The
stretch along the Yellowstone River was in better condition. We walked along the river
bank, with the cliffs of Hawks Rest towering above us. A few minutes later, a horse train carrying
materials for the new bridge passed by.
Minutes later, we got our first glimpse of the bridge, and watched the
horse train ford the river.
We
arrived at the bridge a few minutes later.
The bridge was in good shape, but the ramp up to it hadn’t been built
yet. I took off my pack, hoisted it up
onto the bridge, and climbed up. Larry impressed
me by climbing up with his pack on his back.
We crossed the river in style, before executing some more gymnastics to
get down on the other side.
We
followed the trail on the far side to a fence and gate. On the far side was a meadow and the Hawks
Rest Patrol Cabin at the base of the cliffs of Hawks Rest. We turned north there, and the trail split
into 3 forks. The one to the left headed
towards the river, and campsites. I
wasn’t sure about the trail to the right, but the map suggested that we should
take the middle trail. We followed it
into the woods and on towards Bridger Lake.
15 minutes of easy hiking led to another fork. The trail to the left appeared to head
towards the river, so we went right.
Before long we reached a spur trail heading towards the lake. I thought it might lead to a campsite, so we
followed it. Before long it became
impassable due to fallen trees, so we backtracked. We continued on the
main trail, and a few minutes later we found a nice campsite in the woods
across from the lake. It was a great
campsite, though the path down to the water was steep. Despite that, we decided to take it.
While
I was setting up camp Larry walked down to the lake. When he returned, he mentioned that it looked
like there was an algae bloom in the water.
We weren’t sure if it would be safe to drink, so I ended up walking 15
minutes to the river to get water for both of us. I had intended to take a dip in the lake, but
I wasn’t sure if that would be safe with the algae. Instead I filled up
my folding bucket with river water and use it to clean off.
We
enjoyed a nice sunset over the lake that night.
The bugs were pretty bad that evening, so we
went to bed shortly afterwards.
Back to Wyoming
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Please remember to Leave No Trace!