Outlaw Cave Campground, Wyoming: Livin' in the Wild, Wild, West

         

         Butch Cassidy and his Wild Bunch used Outlaw Cave as a hideout to stash stolen money and cattle during their fugitive days in the late 1800s.

         One hundred and thirty years later Outlaw Cave Campground retains that Wild West spirit.

       
         After setting up camp Tim and I walked the premises, searching for the trail into the canyon leading to the Middle Fork of the Powder River.  We passed a neighboring campsite and spied a young man reading in the shade of his pickup truck.
       
         "Where's the trail to the river?", Tim asked.  "And how's the fishing?"
         "Right across the way", he said.  "The fishing here is great.  It's my favorite place on earth."
       
          As the young man stood to face us we noticed a hand gun strapped prominently to his chest.

          We returned to our campsite where we met another camper, a gentleman from North Dakota.
       
         "Will you two be hiking into the canyon?", he asked.  "My knees are too bad to make the trek, but when my wife hiked down to the river yesterday I sent "The Judge" along with her."
          "The Judge" by the way, is a short-barrel revolver, capable of firing both shotgun and pistol ammo.
       
           Are these folks expecting The Hole in the Wall Gang to reappear?  Do they have their own stolen goods to protect?  No.
          "There's bear and mountain lion around here", said Mr. North Dakota.  (By way of explanation for all this open-carrying, I presume.)
         
           Our plan for tomorrow is to hike into the canyon to the river; we'll take our chances with the lions and the bears.  Humans are more of a threat in the backcountry than wildlife and, in any case, we wouldn't consider taking firearms into the wilderness.

Could these caves by the river be the ones used by Butch Cassidy to stash
his stolen goods?

           The following morning, under crystalline blue skies, we hiked the trail to the river—no bears, lions, or outlaws in sight.  Tim fished for several hours while I hiked back to our campsite to relax on the plateau overlooking the gorge.
           Tim returned in the mid-afternoon and reported fantastic fishing in the pristine, remote waters of the Middle Fork of the Powder.  A little later our neighbor from North Dakota walked by camp.
       
           "How was your day in the canyon?", he asked.  "Did you have your guns?"

                                                                          ****
         
            It's been a long time since outlaws inhabited the isolated high plains and steep-walled canyons of north-central Wyoming.
            But, if Butch Cassidy and his gang ever return to this region of the Wild West, the gun-totin' campers in Outlaw Cave Campground will be ready for them.

You can see our campsite tucked into the shade of the trees.
(Green tent, white vehicle.)

Overview of Outlaw Cave Campground from the rocky outcrop above our site.
Outlaw Cave Trailhead is near the car parked at the center of the photo.
The campground is remote; the nearest town, Kaycee, is 26 miles away
and boasts a population of 274 people.

One Day in America's Top 10 Social Distancing Destinations

       

All alone in the universe.  Hiking with a friend near Horsethief Canyon Trail
in Utah's San Rafael Swell.

         Summer travel season is here, and so is the coronavirus.  We Americans have grown weary of COVID-19, but the virus hasn’t tired of us.  Uncertainty and unpredictability face travelers this year and the summer of 2020 may be unlike any other in our lifetimes.

         Jet-setting across the globe is now difficult at best and dangerous at worst.  As a result people all over this country are warming to the idea of domestic discovery.

         For nine years this blog, One Day in America, has promoted travel in the United States. In this post, I’ve chosen to re-visit 10 stories from favorite places where social distancing is not the exception, but the rule.
         Here then, are my top picks for fun and adventure in lightly-visited locales.

          1.  Swan Lake Cabin in Alaska's Kenai Peninsula.
           
               This may be the most socially distant place I've ever been.  And one of the most enchanting.  One caveat to visiting the Kenai Peninsula—a flight is most likely required to get to Alaska.  Also a float plane is the best way to access this cabin.  However, for the hardy, this cabin may be reached by backpacking the Resurrection Pass Trail in the Kenai Peninsula.

          2.  Crystal Lake Trail, Lake City, Colorado.
           
          3.  Powderhorn Lakes Trail, north of Lake City, Colorado.
             
               Crystal Lake Trail is located in a county with 900 year-round residents.  The trail is easily accessed from the town of Lake City, the only incorporated town in the county.
               Powderhorn Lakes Trail is 20 miles north of Lake City in the Powderhorn Wilderness.
             
               Both Powderhorn Lakes and Crystal Lake offer fishing and backcountry camping; the likelihood of seeing others is practically nil.

Update on the above trails:  Last week (June 2020) I hiked both Crystal Lake and Powderhorn Lakes Trails.  The once lush spruce/fir forests above 11,000 feet in elevation now consist of mostly dead trees, all beetle-killed as a result of increasingly warm winters and longer summers.
The lakes themselves are still gems, however be apprised of entire hillsides of dead trees on the Powderhorn Lakes Trail and of deadfall across the trail in some spots.
The Crystal Lake trail makes its way uphill through a still-healthy aspen and ponderosa pine forest—and views from the trail are spectacular—however the lakeshore at 11,700 feet is surrounded by mostly dead spruce/fir trees.
Scenic backcountry campsites are still available at both lakes, in open meadows away from the dead trees.

          4.  Sand Wash Herd Management Area, Moffit County, Colorado.

               You have to be a fan of wild horses for this one.  And you have to be prepared for travel in a 4,751 square mile county (four times the size of Rhode Island) containing 13,287 people.  Definitely a place to get away from it all.

          5.  The St. Joe River Wilderness in Idaho.

               It's been over a decade since Tim and I have been to the St. Joe River Wilderness so I can't speak for 2020, but we camped there for three days in July one year, and didn't see another person the entire time.

          6.  Price Canyon Recreation Area, Price, Utah.

               I have hiked Price Canyon Rec many times and friends have camped there.  The campground is beautiful but lonely and, in 17 years of hiking the Bristlecone Pine Trail, I've encountered maybe five other people on the trail (other than the people I'm hiking with, of course.)

         7.  Horse Thief Canyon Trail, in The San Rafael Swell, Utah.

              I admit it.  Finding this trailhead is a little tricky.  A few miles north of the junction of US 6 and Interstate 70 is a dirt road turn-off to the west.  The first right turn on this dirt road takes you several miles to the trailhead.  It's unlikely you'll see others on this trail.

          8.  Avintaquin Campground in the Ashley National Forest, Utah.

               If you're looking for a campground that is never full, even during the 4th of July holiday, this is your place.  The high alpine setting makes this the perfect place to cool off during the summer heat.

          9.  The Bread and Puppet Museum in Glover, Vermont.

               This fantastical museum is so worth visiting that I would recommend it even if other (masked) people were there—which they weren't when I toured it in July of 2014.  As a matter of fact after leaving Burlington and Lake Champlain behind, most of northern Vermont was devoid of people.

         10.  Famous Iowans Birthplaces.

                Yes, even Iowa made it into the top ten.  While I can't vouch for the "safety" of motels near these Iowa towns, and I'm not sure about the locations or plenitude of Iowa campgrounds, what I can vouch for are the little-traveled backroads and the absence of crowds at these birthplaces and museums.  You might even discover that you rather like touring in rural Iowa.

          Honorable Mention:

          Great Basin National Park.

          Due to COVID-19 I might not be visiting any National Parks this year, but if I were to travel to a National Park it would be Great Basin.  Campgrounds may fill on holiday weekends but otherwise you should have your pick of campsites, and your pick of untravelled trails in this magnificent park.

          Southeastern Colorado.
           
          The link above will take you to Sand Creek Massacre National Historic Site—a locale with one of the saddest histories of any site in the entire National Park Service.
          There is much to see and do in Southeastern Colorado and not many people seeing and doing it, at least not in September of 2015 when I toured the area.  The Comanche National Grasslands offers birding, Bent's Old Fort National Historic Site is a re-created 1840s trading post, and on a ranger-led tour of Picketwire Canyon near La Junta you can walk where Sauropods trod, in the longest set of dinosaur tracks in the United States.

            Humans are a social species, and being asked to stay away from others is difficult for us.
            All the locations above are places where you and your loved ones can experience solitude—and perhaps discover a bit of inner peace as well—in these trying times.

Searching for Rainbows During Viral Times

          Last Friday, April 3rd, was "National Find a Rainbow Day".  These past few days I've searched my digital photos for rainbow pictures I've taken over the years.

          Rainbows are considered an international symbol of hope and so, if it's raining where you are today—either literally or figuratively—don't stop searching for rainbows.

         Take care and stay safe, everyone.

Green River, Utah.

Price, Utah.

Goblin Valley State Park, Utah.

Price, Utah.

Whiskey Grove Campground, Pinedale, Wyoming.

Baker, Nevada.

Ruby's Inn Cross Country Ski Trails—Bordering Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah

          Location. Location. Location.

          The year: 1916.
          The place: South-western Utah, where Ruby and Minnie Syrett decided to shake off the dust of their small town and search for a place to call their own.
          Without the benefit of Realty signs pinpointing desirable locations to settle, they picked a broad open meadow bordering a pine forest, literally "in the middle of nowhere".

          One day a neighbor stopped by and asked Ruby and Minnie if they had ever traveled a mile south of their property to see, as he called it: "Just a big hole in the ground."  No they had not.
         "Well," said the neighbor,  "It's worth seeing."

          So one Sunday afternoon Ruby and Minnie hitched their horse and buggy and ventured out to see this "hole in the ground".
          Here's what they saw:

The view into Bryce Canyon.

           And, just like that, Ruby, Minnie and their young family had hit the location jackpot.
       
           In 1920 Ruby built a lodge to accommodate visitors.  In 1928 Bryce Canyon became a National Park.  And by the late 1920s Ruby's Inn had become a vacation destination.

          Today, Ruby's and Minnie's grandchildren and great-grandchildren run the place and—in my opinion—it's become a rather kitschy tourist trap.  However, every winter Ruby's Inn grooms a network of cross-country ski trails on the boundary of Bryce Canyon National Park.

         The Ruby's Inn Nordic Area, with just under 17 miles of mostly beginner trails, is not particularly challenging or large.
         But the location?  It can't be beat.

        These views from the Ruby's Inn ski trails illustrate why it's one of my favorite winter destinations:

Above and below:  Views from the Rim Trail.

Below:  View from the meadow trail.

Grab your skis and head to Ruby's Inn for a fabulous winter get-away.

Joy and Wonder in the Nevada Desert

Our day in Great Basin National Park was not going exactly as planned.
A good news/bad news scenario awaited:

The good news: We woke to a glorious blue-sky framing the mountains above our 
campsite  in Wheeler Peak Campground and, after breakfast and coffee by the campfire, 
drove into the backcountry for sightseeing.

This is why I camp.  You can't beat a morning like this one in Great Basin
National Park.

  The bad news:  My Ford F-150's engine shut off after pulling out from our lunch stop at Baker Creek.  Due to a malfunction in the key's computer chip, the engine no longer recognized the key.  As a result the truck "thought" it was being stolen, and all systems were shut down.
I don't know about you, but I prefer my truck's engine not to do its own thinking.

         The good news:  We had cell service in this remote location, and AAA arranged for a tow truck to pick us up.
       
The bad news:  It would be a five hour wait for the nearest available tow truck to arrive.

The good news:  During the long wait my sisters, nephew and I would have time to hike the Baker Creek Trail, as previously planned.

The bad news:  As we began our hike thunderstorms rolled in, trapping us in the truck for our five hour wait.

The good news:  The tow truck finally arrived and in less than half an hour we were loaded and ready to go.

Lynn's Towing Service—from 150 miles away—to the rescue. 

         The bad news:  The nearest service station was 70 miles away in Ely, Nevada, where we would have to spend the night and have a new key re-programmed in the morning.

         And now… the very good news:   After turning west toward Ely on lonely Highway 50 the tow truck driver and we four weary passengers let out a collective gasp as we came upon this breathtaking scene:

       
A horizon-to-horizon double rainbow!  Our driver stopped the truck and we all jumped out to gape at and to photograph this amazing phenomenon.

(Please click on this photo to enlarge.)

 
         During all my years of outdoor exploration I’ve never been witness to a such a wondrous sight, and likely never will be again.  That evening in the Ely Holiday Inn—far from our campsite in the national park—we four travelers agreed that the day’s travails and misfortunes had all been worth it, for that once-in-a-lifetime experience of joy and wonder in the Nevada desert.

Wishing joy and wonder to all, during this holiday season and beyond!

         

           

The Mystery of the "Old Man" of Crater Lake, Crater Lake National Park, Oregon

         Fifty years ago old Mr. Miller arrived at our community swim club, slipped into the shallow end of the pool, swam a few yards to the deep end and turned over on his back.  He closed his eyes, rested his hands on his belly and floated.  And floated.  And floated some more.

        And so we kids, being kids, did everything in our power to disturb his repose.  We dove in next to him, swam under him, and splashed beside him.  And still old Mr. Miller floated, peaceful and calm as could be.  "Dead Man's Float" we called it.

       An hour later—and still very much alive—old Mr. Miller turned onto his tummy, swam to the shallow end and climbed out.  He toweled off, walked through the gate and drove away, never acknowledging us youngsters and our attempts to rattle him as he drifted about the pool.  How does he do it?, we wondered.

       The Old Man of Crater Lake is also a floating phenom.   And, how does he do it? is a question that has long baffled scientists and observers.   This old man is not human—he's a Hemlock log first spotted in 1886.  He floats upright and traverses Crater Lake from side to side and end to end; every day finds The Old Man in a different spot than the day before.

"The Old Man"
Crater Lake is 6 miles in diameter from east to west and 4.5 miles
from north to south.  The Old Man of Crater Lake has covered more
distance than old Mr. Miller could ever have dreamed.

          Many questions surround The Old Man.  Where did he come from?  Why hasn't he decayed?  Why does he float upright instead of turning on his side as logs are prone to do?  Mysterious indeed.
         At one point scientists wished to remove the Old Man to study him.  But after taking a core sample to determine his age—a miraculous 400 years old—they decided to return him to the lake and leave him in peace.
         The above questions may never be answered and I find that somehow thrilling in this age of instant information.

         Old Mr. Miller is probably long gone; may he rest in peace.  Meanwhile The Old Man of Crater Lake floats on, traversing Crater Lake day-in and day-out as he has done for at least 133 years.   And the enigma of The Old Man of Crater Lake endures.

                                                                         *****

Magnificent Crater Lake.
Our tour group saw the Old Man on a boat trip to Wizard Island.  (Center)

          Have you seen the Old Man?  Crater Lake National Park offers guided boat tours of the lake, staffed by park service volunteers.  You'll learn all about the volcanic eruption which created the lake.  And, if you're lucky, you'll catch a glimpse of the Old Man.

Congaree National Park, South Carolina

Bottomland Hardwood Forest:  a type of deciduous and evergreen hardwood forest found in US broad lowland floodplains along large rivers and lakes. These forests are occasionally flooded, which builds up the alluvial soils required for the gum, oak and bald cypress trees that typically grow in this type of biome.

         In the mid 19th century 35 million acres of Bottomland Hardwood Forest dominated the landscape from Virginia to Texas.
         But then came the settlers and lumber barons; in five decades virtually all of the old-growth forest was cut down—the lush forests transformed into farms, pastures and cities, and the timber sold for ships, buildings and railroads.
         We humans are remarkably efficient at destroying the natural world to suit our purposes.
       
         Today, less than one percent of Old-growth Floodplain Forest remains; 11,000 acres of it is protected in Congaree National Park in South Carolina.
         Bordered by the Congaree River on its southern edge the park provides the perfect habitat for this lowland forest and, as such, contains the largest remnant of old-growth floodplain forest in the United States.
         Representative trees include Sweetgum, American Beech, Swamp Chestnut Oak, Bald Cypress and Loblolly Pine, with individual trees reaching heights of 150-200 feet.

A Loblolly Pine reaches for the sky along the boardwalk trail.

Bald Cypress Trees.  Notice the small stumps, known as Cypress "knees" alongside the trees.
These "knees" function as both anchors and snorkels for the Cypress.
As anchors they help to stabilize the trees; as snorkels they get air to the submerged roots
when the tree is surrounded by water.  Pretty cool, huh?

         The diversity of plant and animal life in the tiny 26,000 acre park is astonishing; at the same time it's an atrocity that such a tiny remnant of this once-magnificent forest remains.
       
         I didn't know a thing about bottomland hardwood forests until visiting Congaree National Park in May of 2019.
         And I didn't plan to become righteously indignant about the plight of old-growth trees in the south.  Really.  My intention was only to discover a lightly-visited national park I hadn't been to before. 
         But after visiting this little-known gem of a park in South Carolina I can only hope to inspire others to raise their voices to protect old-growth groves—wherever they still exist.