Dry Camping in Wyoming

Oct 17-19, 2021

To travel is to adjust your plans, continually. Of course, that’s true of life in general!

Our original plan was to camp at Madison campground (on the west end of Yellowstone) until it closed on Oct 17, then go up to Mammoth Hot Springs campground (on the north end of Yellowstone). (Mammoth stays open year-round because the snow-based traffic goes in and out of Gardiner, MT.)

But as I described in the last entry, on Sunday morning, Oct 17, the heat in our camper gives out and we get the message: it’s time to find somewhere warmer!

How Will We Solve Our Problem?

Our first order of business is to find a place to service our generator. So we head toward a place where we can get cell service — a pull-off called Black Sand Basin. (Doug and I signed up with different phone carriers to hopefully maximize coverage during this travel year.) We’re able to use his phone’s hotspot (Verizon) to find a list of RV dealerships. I read off the phone numbers and Doug makes call after call. But of course it’s Sunday morning. Besides, everything is closing for the season. 

Eventually we give up on this approach and decide to head south toward Salt Lake City. We have a vague idea that there will be RV dealers there. Traveling south from Yellowstone passes through the Tetons so the drive will take more than five hours.

If you’ve been in the Tetons, you know how those conical mountains rise dramatically from a plain. (If you haven’t seen them, just look up the French translation of their name.) They are stunning but the drive is long.

As we drive, the temperature inside the truck rises — until we finally turn on the air conditioning. Was it just this morning that we woke up in a freezing camper? What a long, strange day it’s been. 

We would love to buy a cup of coffee, but every town we pass through is shut up tight. Doug quips, “Around here it’s easier to get another wife than a cup of coffee.”

Finally we pass an RV park that is still open. The price seems high but we’re grateful to have luxuries — electricity, Wifi, hot showers, and a laundry room. We take advantage of all of them. After we get ourselves and the rig clean, and fix supper, we’re even able to Zoom with our daughters. So good to see their faces!

MONDAY Oct 18

We wake to the sound of traffic passing — people heading to work on a Monday morning. The outdoor temperature is 49 degrees, which feels warm and wonderful. We have a leisurely morning, breakfasting on eggs and smoked salmon, making plans, and writing postcards.

We stop to buy a couple items at the campground store and I notice the local publication on the counter. The feature article is about a few unsolved missing persons’ cases that have been renewed in the wake of Gabby Petito’s disappearance. The clerk and I talk about the fact that this is a good thing. He tells me that the area was put on high alert when her remains were found in the Tetons.

Later I read the paper and discover that a man who was called in for questioning about the disappearance of a girlfriend some twenty years ago, went out and killed himself. So yes, accountability does occasionally have its way, even at a late date, and even when justice is not served. These are issues I’m passionate about.

Before noon Doug and I are again on our way to Salt Lake City, traveling through a broad flat valley called the Star Valley of Wyoming. Tonight we hope to dry camp somewhere around Fossil Butte National Monument.

In Afton, a quaint town, we stop to mail our postcards. An arch made of elk horn crosses the main street rather majestically. Outside of town we pass an airstrip. Some of the ranches hint that they hide lots of money, with immaculate landscaping and state-of-the-art security. We speculate about the celebrities who might fly in to these homes now and then. 

Apparently the West is the same as anywhere in the U.S. — great wealth lives side-by-side with poverty. 

Back in the open country, Doug hits the brakes when two white dogs trot into the roadway. Behind them, on a hillside, are a whole lot of sheep. We pull over and read signs indicating that the land is Wyoming State Trust Land. We enjoy watching the sheep while we eat our lunch.

Fossil Butte National Monument

Fossil Butte National Monument is a few miles off Route 30. After the turn off, we climb through arid hills and arrive at a Visitor Center tucked into the side of a hill. 

The building is full of exhibits which are unexpectedly gorgeous and sophisticated. The building is also completely empty. The exhibits explain that some 52 million years ago there were three lakes in this now-arid region. Fossil Lake was the smallest of the three and had naturally occurring carbonate so in this immediate area there are layers of fossilized flora and fauna from at least four different epochs in prehistoric history. I read the multi-syllabic words knowing I will immediately forget them.

Ah, a park ranger. It turns out that overnight parking is not allowed around here. So much for our plan to dry camp. The park ranger is sympathetic. He gives us a map and directions to Lake Viva Naughton, which is a reservoir on a state reserve. We can camp for free. Using iOverlander, Doug finds a few possible campsites.

Lake Viva Naughton

We easily locate the three campsites that the app describes. They’re on the east side of the lake amid a network of dirt roads. We are the only people around. I spend more than an hour picking up trash, two bags full. As I search and stoop for garbage — broken glass, smashed cans, food wrappers, endless cigarette butts — I also see cleft hoof prints and lots of pellet manure. 

We are happy to have such a lovely spot to ourselves. Doug grills hamburgers for supper, his bear spray holstered. After we do the dishes, we take our chairs to the edge of the lake. More than a dozen loons are visible, each pulling a long V behind them. In the west the clouds are dramatic — colorful and quick-moving. Lightning bolts streak the sky while the sun sets.

It’s predicted to rain or snow tonight, but without much accumulation. We still have one full tank of propane. And the lithium battery is recharged from driving all day. So we’ll be fine. At least that’s what we tell ourselves.

The strong wind blowing across the lake from the south turns very cold. We decide to warm up by walking. A dirt road leads up one of the sagebrush hills, so we climb to the crest, about a half mile, then walk back down.

Feeling invigorated, we decide to keep going in the other direction. As we walk the sun moves lower, the wind dies down, and the storm abates. It isn’t so cold anymore, which is unexpected. The weather on this trip is a continual surprise.

Using his binoculars, Doug spots a pronghorn antelope, a male, on the slope of a hill about 100 yards away. We watch the antelope and the antelope watches us. When we finally turn away we see movement behind us — a porcupine! It has its quills raised and is heading toward some scrub willow. We don’t pester it. I’ve never seen a porcupine in the wild before. Maybe it’s because I’ve been a pastor for 30 years, but whenever I take leave of something alive, words of benediction spring to mind. “Go in peace and be fat and happy” I tell the porcupine.

TUESDAY, Oct 19

Snow again last night. It’s so lovely here that we spend a second day and night at Lake Viva Naughton. In the morning I write while Doug insulates bits and pieces of the camper.

Insulating the Truck Camper

Our battery box originally held a lead acid battery, not a lithium battery, which may be part of our problem. A lead acid battery has to vent to the outside. Lithium batteries don’t need to be vented, they need to be kept from freezing. The original vent holes were sealed when the previous owner upgraded from lead acid batteries to lithium, but Doug wants to make other improvements. For instance, he could insulate the copper pipe that carries propane and travels though the battery box. He could add a vent hole or two between the battery box and the cabin, to help equalize the heat in the two spaces. Plus there are other gaps he can plug up — around the outdoor shower, under the bathroom sink, and in the under-floor of the dinette. He uses up the rest of the Reflectix and gorilla tape and makes a list of the items he’ll need to finish these projects. 

Uncluttering Our Stuff

We still have too much stuff. We are tired of moving stuff around all the time. Every time we come across an item we don’t need, we put it in a pile to give away. This growing pile takes up space in the back seat of the truck — we’re having trouble finding places that take donations.

If there’s an item we’re not sure about, we mentally put it in the “corner of contemplation.” To me, uncluttering is mainly a mental exercise. What do I need to hold onto and what can I let go of?

Right now we have a relatively valuable item in our COC — a spotting scope and tripod, plus a gizmo that holds an iPhone so you can theoretically take photos through the scope. In order to decide whether or not we want to keep these items, we experiment with using them. We set up the tripod and train the scope on the hill where we saw the antelope. We can get it set up and adjusted, but only if we have lots of time and our fingers aren’t cold. And how often does that happen?

Another problem — when we finally get the iPhone attached, we can no longer adjust the focus. It all becomes very fiddly. We decide the arrangement won’t work for photographing wildlife, which had been our hope.

Also, there’s a back story to the scope and tripod that make them just a bit weighty emotionally. A lot of items are like this, aren’t they? It’s why uncluttering can be so difficult.

We decide that at the next opportunity we will give the scope and tripod away. They will be very useful for the right person.

Confirmation

After we decide this, Doug goes to do some chore and I notice a very large bird flying low over the sagebrush. I shout and we both grab our binoculars. 

The bird is enormous, with a rust-colored body, dark wings and a white band around the base of its tail. Most likely it’s a Golden Eagle. 

I’ve seen a Golden Eagle soar many times at a particular spot on the Shenandoah River, but this is the first time I’ve gotten a good look at her markings. The fact that we both grabbed our binoculars and didn’t run for the more cumbersome equipment (which was still set up) underlines the fact that we made the right decision. We are ready to let go of the scope and tripod.

A Wander

In the last hour before the sun sets, we go for a long wander. We are silent, enjoying the low light on the sagebrush hills and glassy water. In the distance we watch a pronghorn antelope (the same one?), now grazing beside four mule deer. I wonder what happened to the other antelopes. Herd animals are not meant to be alone. 

We walk along the shoreline a long ways. I was out here picking up trash yesterday, but I confess I’m always a bit afraid that I’ll find something worse than trash. What if I find human remains? As I’m trying not to think about this, I discover a boot tied to a large stick by its shoelaces. Just one boot. A black high-top boot with thick rubber soles, in pretty good shape. I look around for the other boot. What if . .  .? 

I need to stop making up stories in my head. I’m sure some kids were goofing around. I turn to say something to Doug, and see the golden light behind him.