Hellroaring

Although it was Wednesday for the rest of the world, today was our Saturday–the first of our two consecutive days off. Which means that there’s no better day for a hike and a soak. And it was an absolutely gorgeous day: blue skies, not too hot, no chance of rain. So we decided to do a hike that many of our coworkers have talked about: Hellroaring. Now, I must tell you that our coworkers have not actually said anything good about this hike. And I should probably also add that this was against Rob’s better judgment, as he did this hike last year and vowed never to do it again. But I somehow persuaded him that we really should, and so we set out.

But first, we took some time for a new project: making a bear shaker! One of our coworkers made these to keep near the doors of the store to scare away bears when they come by, and they really work! In fact, had I known that bears could be scared off by a homemade maraca, I would have thought twice about spending $30 a pop for bear spray. But I guess there’s room for new-fangled technology in the world, as well as our old-fashioned remedies. No need to explain how these are made: you can get the idea from the photos.

Hellroaring is a very deceptive hike. It starts off in a Marlboro commercial, then moves straight into the Sound of Music.

You hike down some switchbacks, which we did behind a group of horses, and after about a mile you’ve arrived at a suspension footbridge over the Yellowstone River.

The Yellowstone River is a tributary of the Missouri River, originating in the Yellowstone Basin in Wyoming and Montana. Within the park, it flows out of Yellowstone Lake, which is the largest (136 square miles) freshwater lake above 7000 feet in North America. And at the point we crossed it, it was a roaring rapids. Given how loud this was, I couldn’t wait to get to Hellroaring Creek.

From the suspension bridge, it’s just another mile to the creek, through an open meadow. The kind of place where I always stop to scan the entire vista for bears, and pray that we never, ever see one.

The creek itself it located just past a line of trees at the end of the meadow. I took the photo below as we got nearer to the creek to highlight the helpful trail blaze that someone stuck on a post out in the middle of nowhere. Every time I see a blaze on a trail, I remember back to growing up in Western Massachusetts. My dad would take me and my brother and sister hiking on a segment of the Appalachian Trail on a Sunday, probably to give my mother some peace and quiet. But he taught us lots of things about hiking the trail and looking for blazes. I wish he was here to enjoy this hike with us. Maybe he’s enjoying it from wherever he may be.

Hellroaring Creek is also pretty deceptive, because when we finally got there, we found it was nowhere near as loud as the Yellowstone River. That’s just the name of the creek. Maybe it roars like hell at some other location. But we appreciated it, then turned around to hike back.

The hike back is pretty much the same thing, only in reverse. Only problem is, those switchbacks we hiked down on the way out. They didn’t seem so bad then…

The last 3/4-mile of this trail is absolute hell. Which is pretty much exactly what everyone, including Rob, told me. I guess some things you just have to find out for yourself. We dragged our weary asses back to the parking lot, got in the truck, and headed out to the hot springs, stopping for a picnic lunch along the way once we’d been revived by the truck’s A/C. But we got some beautiful photos and some great memories, and one of us got the last word. Hope you enjoy the photos!