Holiday Inn Ranger

My first backcountry patrol was an adventure into the most remote place in the lower 48 states.

The Thorofare Ranger Station is tucked in the Southeast corner of Yellowstone National Park and is 32 miles from the nearest road of any kind. The station includes a cabin, bar, and coral and sits near the headwaters of the Yellowstone River and is a few miles from the Continental Divide.

District Ranger Roger Rudolph thought it was a good idea for his front-country rangers to spend a few days in the backcountry each summer. That way, we were better informed about trails that took hikers into rugged terrain, remote thermal areas, across turbulent streams, and face to face with elk, moose, and grizzly bears.

Ranger Ray Fenio lead the way on my first backcountry patrol into the Thorofare. My idea of roughing it was a stay at the Holiday Inn.  There would be no king-size bed, remote control, a large shower head, soft fluffy towels, or a breakfast bar at any of the patrol cabins.

The first leg of this adventure was by boat across Yellowstone Lake, down the Southeast Arm and a drop off at Terrace Point where we tossed full backpacks to the shore and jumped off the bow of a 25-foot Bertram.

Once on shore, we slipped our backpacks over our shoulders, cinched them up, and started the second leg of our backcountry patrol to the Cabin Creek Patrol Cabin where we stayed for the night.

The next morning, we were on the trail again headed for the Thorofare Ranger Station. Along the way, Fenio and I cleared trails, checked on hikers staying at designated backcountry sites, watched for poachers, and repaired trail information signs.

When Fenio and I reached the Thorofare Ranger Station it was getting late in the day and starting to get dark. Ranger Bob Jackson was standing at the front door, Smokey bear hat tipped back, wearing a plaid flannel shirt, and motioning for us to come on in.

 “I’ve got supper waiting for you. If you’d like.”

Jackson didn’t have to ask twice.  I was starving after hiking miles and miles through lodge pole pine forest, wet meadows, and thick willows.  And that smell of hot coffee was to die for.

I don’t think Jackson had seen anyone for days and talked our legs off for hours as we sat around the table listening to stories about life as a backcountry ranger.  Jackson was one of Yellowstone’s longest-serving seasonal backcounty rangers and well known for his apprehension of poachers along park boundaries.

It was getting late into the night when the three of us decided to call it a day.  I was dragging and more than ready to get some sleep before heading out to Howell Fork Patrol Cabin at first light.

We moved to the back room of the patrol cabin where Jackson had set up three cots. I wound up in the middle of the room with Fenio to my right and Jackson to my left.

Just as the kerosene lanterns were turned off, the grizzly bear stories were on. Jackson and Fenio did their best to outdo each other and scare the green ranger.

Lying there in the dark, I listened to story after story about gizzly bears coming into backcountry sites and chasing outfitters up trees, gizzly bears climbing up on the roof at Cabin Creek Patrol Cabin and trying to dig their way through the roof with a ranger inside, and a gizzly bear climbing through the window at the Thorofare Ranger Station.

Grizzly Times Podcast 34
Bob Jackson -Yellowstone National Park Thorofare Ranger

There was no way I was going to get a good night’s sleep after hearing these two rangers go on and on.

“Say Bob.  What do you think about closing and locking down those windows?”

“Nah.  Let’s keep them open so we can see the stars.”

“Uh.  Ok Bob.”

For the next 2 hours, laying on that cot, I kept looking back and forth at both open windows.  I kept thinking about a grizz climbing through one of those windows before the night was over.

No sooner had I closed my eyes, when I heard something banging up against the cabin.  This is it.  There’s a grizzly bear out there.

“Bob! Bob! Wake up!  There’s something out there.

“Not to worry Rick.  It’s just Pumpkin.  He’s probably hungry.”

Not taking Jackson at his word, I got up and looked out the window.  Standing there in the dark, a few feet from the cabin, I could see a large pack mule waiting for someone to come out and feed him.  I wasn’t volunteering to step one foot outside the cabin.  Pumpkin would have to wait.

Back on my cot, I closed my eyes and finally fell asleep.

The next thing I heard was Fenio screaming, “He’s coming through the window!”

Jackson was up on his feet and pointing a very large pistol at the window next to Fenio.  Fenio was up now and pointing a pistol at the window next to Jackson.

And there I was in the middle.  If either one of them started shooting, I’d be killed in a crossfire.  Both held their gunfire.

Fenio’s next words, “Sorry guys. Sometimes I talk in my sleep.”

“Goodnight.”