Hiking the CDT through Yellowstone National Park

“Exploding water, exploding water, exploding water,” I chanted in beat to my footsteps. We were entering Yellowstone National Park, and I couldn’t hide my childish glee.

A year ago, after hiking the Teton Crest Trail, we had an opportunity to spend two days driving through Yellowstone. I was just in the beginning stages of dreaming about the CDT at that point, and I remember leaning against the car window, watching the scenery go by and wondering what it would be like to get to hike through this incredible terrain.

Now we were entering the park, and last year’s shy dreaming was today’s wild reality.

Entering Wyoming

Entering Yellowstone meant more than just entering one of the most well-known national parks. It also meant entering Wyoming, my third state. Montana was in the rearview mirror, as was the big sky and roller coaster climbs of Idaho. Now we were descending into the caldera of Yellowstone and the excitement of all its geothermal features.

One with the wildlife

“How’s your hike going?” A ranger leading a tour called. It was easy to tell I didn’t fully belong: most of the tourists around me were in tennis shoes and had on day packs, having driven to the Old Faithful area to watch the massive geyser and wander the surrounding thermals. I was nearly running from spot to spot, my big backpack loaded with all my gear and faded with the use across the past 1,000 miles.

“It’s going great!” I called back, the excitement evident.

“That’s awesome!” And then, as she turned back to her tour group, I heard, “And that’s a CDT hiker. You can tell because they all have little tags hanging on their backpacks.”

I only laughed to myself as I continued walking away. I was one of the wildlife here; a local Yellowstone attraction. Come to Yellowstone, one and all, to see the massive geysers, the mighty bison, and the rare CDT thru hiker.

We’d specifically planned a short day around Old Faithful, knowing that we’d take plenty of time to stop at the geysers, admire the bubbling pits, gape at the massive holes leading deep into the Earth’s surface, and read the many signs around the area.

Plus, there was an all-you-can-eat buffet at the Inn, and you know how thru hikers love food. I ended up devouring two full plates, plus a bowl of chili, plus two big brownies. We rolled out of there, feeling really actually full for the first time in days. And then, about an hour later, as Shaun and some others were going through their resupply boxes and we were charging our electronics, Casper said, “You know, ice cream sounds really good right now.”

And you know what? It did. So we all went over to the general store for some big servings of Huckleberry Ice Cream.

But then it was finally time to leave Old Faithful and head back into the backcountry, where we really belonged anyway.

The backcountry thermals

There’s something special about being in the backcountry. It’s a more intimate experience with the world around you. Less people are willing to walk beyond the pavement of Old Faithful and so the overwhelming mixture of people, cars, asphalt, and buildings faded into the distance. As Casper and I tried to walk away from Old Faithful, several cars honked, annoyed at us as we tried to find the trail. And yet, within a mile, you couldn’t hear the cars anymore and it felt like Old Faithful’s hustle and bustle didn’t even exist anymore.

At the Lone Star Geyser, there were only five of us: three sobo hikers and two nobos. We sat there and ate dinner together as we waited for the geyser, sharing stories from the trail, talking about life, and existing there with a casual ease missing from the bustle of Old Faithful.

As I hiked through the backcountry, the sudden smell of sulfur would reach my nose, and I’d know another geothermal area was coming up. We could get closer to the thermals here. Sometimes a hole full of boiling water would sit on either side of the trail. One night, we camped at one of the Firehole River camping spots, and steam rose just beyond my tent.

Despite the heat rising from the thermals, it was cold. We had nights down in the 30s, and I spent a morning or two huddled in my sleeping bag as long as I could.

The lakes of Yellowstone

Even after we moved away from the thermal area of Yellowstone, steam still rose and there were still streams that ran warm. The rocky, pine tree scenery quickly turned into beautiful lakes as the trail took us along the sides of them.

At one point, the trail disappeared into a section of lily pads and water. We stopped to put on our camp shoes (sandals) and then I stepped into the swamp. The cold water sloshed around my feet, then my knees, and then suddenly up to my thighs. I could only laugh with glee. This hadn’t been what I was expecting at all from the trail, and yet here I was, wading thigh-deep through lily pads. It’s hard to be bored out here!

We continued around the lakes and streams, taking the Lewis Lake alt to see the river and lake shore. Across the lake, the Teton mountains rose in jagged ridges against the sky. There really are no mountains quite like the Teton range.

Onto the Winds

Immediately after Yellowstone are some big mile days. I’ve discovered that Solemate and Catch-up (who I started this trip with 1,100 miles back in Glacier!!) are just a few days ahead of me on the redline after taking their own alt into the Tetons. I’ll be pushing hard through this next section to meet them, and then we’ll head into what the nobos have told me is one of the most beautiful sections yet: The Winds.