Mt Sheridan

9.28.07
My feet were still cold the next morning. The temperature had dropped into the twenties overnight and the humidity was high. A layer of ice clung to our tent and the surrounding foliage. Tim woke me to a warm breakfast and a fire (insert note about how awesome he is).

Mt Sheridan trailhead was about a mile from 8H3. The trail climbs 3,000 feet in 3 ½ miles and makes its way in switchbacks up the mountain face, exposed to the wind. Almost all of the trees are burned. We started our slow ascent into the wind. Shortly thereafter it began snowing. Near the top, the trail wound around the backside of the mountain. Just below tree line the summit and the ranger station came into view.

Bill stayed late into the season, living in his aerie atop Mt Sheridan. His former life as a smoke jumper qualified him as a forest fire spotter and landed him this coveted position, allowing him to spend 12 weeks of each summer on top of the mountain. His 15 X 15 house sported a 360 degree view of Heart Lake, Yellowstone Lake, and the Grand Tetons. He used specialized instrumentation for precisely locating forest fires and determining their size and movement. He reported his data to Yellowstone and Teton National Parks.

We entered his house without invite, interrupting an impromptu photo session with the female hitchhiker we encountered along the road. She told us her name, “Susan Monroe, like Marilyn,” and explained that she was an aspiring travel writer. She had spent the last two years traveling in New Zealand and Antarctica. Tim photographed her standing outside of the building with her camera and she made her way down the mountain. Bill stepped outside to weigh a pile of logs, determining the current humidity.

At first he was quiet and aloof, but quickly charmed by Tim, he opened up. Over the course of two hours we talked politics and shared our views of the world. Bill told us about his dream of retiring next year and his other life on his sailboat. He was intrigued by our road trip and told us that he had always wanted a Eurovan. He asked Tim for pointers on how to “wheel and deal”, which was not his forte. “Everything is negotiable,” Tim started. (If there is a discount available Tim will find it.) When we purchased our Nissan Xterra, the salesman thanked Tim for teaching him how to buy a car. He will secure the lowest possible price for any product or service, period.

We guessed Bill was in his mid-fifties. He was fit, tanned but surprisingly unweathered from 13 consecutive years in the high UV exposure. Slight, he stood around 5’ 6”. His blue eyes focused intently on us while we spoke. He brewed a pot of coffee on his wood stove to warm us up. It was hot and dry so we peeled off our layers of clothing.

Bill’s travel log listed 244 visitors this summer and few, he explained, had been interesting. Tim asked if he had any funny stories to share with us. He told us about a grizzly bear that had ambushed and killed a deer at 8H3 (our site) and started feeding on it just outside of a tent. When the camper unzipped his tent, the startled grizzly ran off. Several hours later he was awakened again by a black bear feeding on the carcass.

After parting ways with Bill, we playfully descended Mt Sheridan through the barren landscape of burned trees. The charred forest didn’t shield us from the wind, but we were excited, and distracted ourselves by recounting our encounter with Bill. By the time we made it to the trail intersection at the bottom, Mt Sheridan was shrouded in clouds.

The deer were used to people. They hung around our campsite and made me think about Bill’s “funny” story. That night Tim took photos of the moon rising over Heart Lake. Meanwhile, I burned a hole in my sock drying it over the campfire. We saw the space station again at 8:30 P.M. It wasn’t as cold, but I stuffed the handwarmers Bill had given me in a fresh pair of socks when we entered the tent.