WELCOME TO THE BACKCOUNTRY, BITCHES! Also it should be noted that this is what I looked like at the start of the trip: fresh-faced, happy, relaxed, excited for my adventure. By the end I looked like Gollum.
This past spring, as Claire and I planned our epic Wyoming adventure, we decided it'd be a lot of fun to do an overnight camping trip somewhere in Yellowstone. Rather, I decided, Claire agreed, and then my stomach turned to stone out of fear as I realized what I'd gotten myself into.
The major problem we first found was basic information on 1) How to do this 2) Where we should camp. Okay, I kind of lied. Figuring out how to do it is relatively easy. Like, google "backcountry camping in Yellowstone" and you'll get taken straight to the NPS.gov page about, uh, backcountry camping in Yellowstone. From there it got a bit tricky.
Where do go, we wondered? All the googling in the world couldn't advise on a suitable campsite for two single women who didn't want a super strenuous hike-in and also wanted to not see a bear, not even once. Claire took a plunge here and looked at the ridiculously tiny PDF map that the park offers up as guidance. She picked a spot that was near the southern gate of Yellowstone, since we'd be coming in from Jackson; something on a lake cause it'd be pretty; and a site that was only a few miles hike-in, because she knew who she was dealing with in me.
Here's where the reservation process gets archaic. Most backcountry spots are available by reservation (though there are apparently lots still open on a day-of basis, if you're not picky about your location) starting on April 1. We didn't want to take any chances so we went through the reservation process. This involves:
-Printing out a PDF reservation request form (reservations for backcountry sites can only be made in person or via the mail, not at all by phone)
-Paying $20 (this is only for the reservation process; the actual campsites are free)
-Choose about a billion first, second, third and to infinity and beyond campsites, just in case your first choices aren't available, and setting your dates
-Mail it in
-Pray that it arrived and that you remembered how to use the postal system correctly because seriously it's been about 4 years since you last mailed anything
-Many weeks later, at no set time, open up the confirmation that will come in the mail
I guess this process works for the NPS, but between my experience with this, and PATC cabin reservations, I have no idea why they have not yet gone to an online-reservation system.
(It should be noted that many camping sites can, in fact, be reserved at recreation.gov; that's how I reserved my Assateague Island mosquito pit hole of death. In fact Yellowstone has some regular old campsites you can reserve online. But backcountry in Yellowstone is, as far as I can tell, strictly through this mail-in process. However I'm dead set on a trip to Montana's National Glacier Park next summer and they have regular old campsites you can reserve online as well.).
So, say it all worked out, you got your first-choice camp site, and you're on your way to Yellowstone. Nota bene: You're not done yet. You have to stop by whatever Ranger Station is most convenient for you by 10 AM on the day of your reservation to pick up and fill out a backcountry camping permit.
You're also made to watch a video on proper backcountry camping. I'm sure it contained a lot of useful information, but mostly all I got out of it was: "You are definitely going to see a bear and probably die." This video also instructed me to clap and sing while hiking, and boy, you should have heard my medley of Disney tunes, belted out at the top of my voice, as we hiked into our site. I also literally wrapped bear bells to my wrist and shook them about while hiking. Claire is a saint.
Claire, the patron saint of me not dying
So! That's how we did it. Oh, were you hoping for other backcountry camping advice, like what to pack, what kind of tent to use, what food to make, where you can get bear bags, etc? Yeah I don't know any of that crap. I left that all up to Claire, my backcountry savior, who is also the outdoorsiest person I know. And did I mention a saint? Look with what she had to deal with:
Scene: Catherine and Claire sitting on the serene banks of the Firehole River, eating cheese and sausages while dipping our toes in to the water.
Claire: "So, yeah, I really think that…"
Catherine: "LALALA A WHOLE NEW WORLD DON'T YOU DARE CLOSE YOUR EYES!"
Claire: "What are you doing."
Catherine: "I THOUGHT I HEARD AN ELK OVER THERE. Or A BEAR! OR AN ELK BEAR! BRIGHT YOUNG WIMMIN! SICK OF SWIMMIN!"
Claire, under her breath: "There is no way there are any more animals within a five-mile radius of here by now."
I post this most-unflattering-photo-of-me-ever-taken to illustrate to you what backcountry camping can do to your mental state. And...your face. Wait, why did I make this public again?
Scene: Claire and Catherine huddle in their tent while the sun's still up, because the mosquitoes descended like a curtain of death as soon as the sun dipped slightly below the treeline, and there was really no choice but to suck it up and tent it out. The whiskey is gone. Claire has a book. Catherine is too terrified to get out of the tent and walk the 20 feet to her bag to get her book because a bear might LEAP OUT OF A STEALTH BEAR UNDERGROUND HOLE and kill her all surprise-like on the way.
Claire: [reading]
Catherine: "Hmmm deee hummm….I'm bore--WHAT WAS THAT!"
Claire: "What was what?"
Catherine: "I heard something! Rustling! I'm too young to die!"
Claire: "It was the wind. I think there's a storm coming in."
Catherine: [a huge crackle of thunder surrounds us] "HOLD ME!"
Claire: "Go away."
Many hours later…
Claire: [Asleep]
Catherine: Wide eyed. Wearing her headlamp with the light turned on for no discernible reason. Fingers gripped together in a death-vise over her chest as she prays ardently to God to let her live through the night. The storm rages on.
Catherine: "Whimper."
A few more hours later:
Catherine: Still in same position as before. Storm has mostly passed. Somehow, from somewhere, the campfire singing of a troupe of boy scouts that had been encountered earlier, who must be camping relatively nearby, reaches Catherine's ears.
Catherine: "WHAT IN THE HOLY MOTHER EFFING GOD OF BUFFALO IS THAT! Oh, wait.. huh. That's kind of nice. Boy Scouts could save my life if I needed them to. If a bear rips through our tent, and eats Claire, I'll just run blazing guns towards the campfire singing. Good to know! All is right in the world!"
Catherine: [falls promptly asleep]
So, the short version of this post is: Here is how to backcountry camp. Never go backcountry camping with Catherine.
Oh, yeah. We did see a grizzly bear...on the side of the road. From the car. As we drove back to our hotel in Jackson. It was great!
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