ROWS OF FROSTY SNOWMOBILES AWAIT US OUTSIDE WHILE WE STUFF OUR STOMACHS AT THE BREAKFAST BUFFET INSIDE THE LODGE.
THE EARLY MORNING light crests the eastern tree line in Yellowstone National Park, transforming the snow-covered ground into a sea of sparkles. The park’s main thoroughfare from the south parallels the Lewis River, which seems to keep pace with our snowmobiles. From early November through May, Yellowstone’s roads close to regular traffic with the exception of a road between Mammoth Hot Springs and the community of Cooke City, Montana, just outside of Yellowstone’s northeast entrance. Snow accumulates on the 100-plus miles of closed roads, and, beginning December 15, the park grooms them, allowing snowmobiles and snow coaches (tour buses with giant snow tires or tracks for wheels) to bring visitors into a winter wonderland. Our snowmobile tour began in a minibus in the 6 a.m. darkness of Jackson. The guide, Bri Rambles, was bright-eyed and smiling while we passengers struggled with drooping eyelids. Now, ninety minutes north of town, the minibus sputters to a stop at Flagg Ranch’s Headwaters Lodge in the John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Memorial Parkway, a strip of land between Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. We’re here to snowmobile in the latter, but first comes breakfast—and wiggling into puffy snowmobile gear. Rows of frosty snowmobiles await us outside while we stuff our stomachs at the breakfast buffet inside the lodge. In the “boot and suit” room, Rambles’s role is that of a tailor as she fits each of us into insulated boots and one-piece suits. Once we’re kitted out, we head outside and begin testing our borrowed clothing and boots’ ability to withstand Wyoming’s freezing winter temperatures. Mostly warm, we wait for instruction on how to operate a snowmobile. (Prior snowmobiling experience is not a requirement for the tour.) Our driver’s education, snowmobile edition, includes cautionary tales that toe the line between seriousness and humor, including: Gently squeeze the throttle to avoid landing yourself in a tree; and keep an eye on the brake lights of the snowmobile in front of you. And then we’re off in a slow-moving, single file line as drivers get acquainted with their throttles and brakes.
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JACKSON HOLE MAGAZINE WINTER 2021
THE SUN RISES quickly, but the temperature does not. Our first stretch is short; less than a couple of miles from the lodge, we stop for a photo at the Yellowstone National Park sign. We don’t know it at the time, but this is the least interesting stop of the day. Communication is difficult under heavy full-face snowmobile helmets, so Rambles has taught us a repertoire of hand signals. A raised hand means “stop,” and, after we’ve officially ridden into the park, she raises hers at an overlook. When we’ve all demonstrated our mastery of this hand signal by stopping, we turn off our machines and Rambles regales us with the history of the surrounding sights, including that of Lewis Canyon, through which runs the Lewis River. A tributary of the Snake River, the Lewis River was named for Meriwether Lewis, of Lewis and Clark fame, despite the fact that neither his famous expedition nor Lewis himself ever set foot in Yellowstone. Brown, brook, and cutthroat trout live in the river all year. After the Lewis River, there’s Lewis Falls and Lewis Lake. Up the road, a mass of parked snow coaches indicates wildlife activity. We don’t know what it is the snow coachers see, but we turn off our machines and walk up the road in their direction. There’s a wolf pack in the trees. The Lamar Valley, in the northern part of the park, is Yellowstone’s most famous wolf-watching spot, yet, here in the southeast, we catch a fleeting glimpse of dark-bodied canines trotting
Commercial outfitters do day-long snowmobiling trips into Yellowstone daily from mid-December until mid-March (weather permitting).
