Cabin Creek…

cabibcrOctober 2019

By A&M

 

Cabin Creek Solve

As I have gone over many of the reasons for this solve in the related “Beaver Creek Solve”.  Please click HERE and read that one first.

We got up early on that Wednesday morning in order to solve this thing, find the gold and still be able to make it to Canyon Village in Yellowstone to see the waterfalls before heading home Thursday morning.  We started with breakfast at the Campfire Lodge Resort.  It is a campground located at the confluence of Cabin Creek and the Madison River.  The breakfast was only bested by the view while eating.and they have a fly shop if you want to go catch something else to eat.  Our waitress told us that there were two momma bears on Beaver Creek and Cabin Creek one with a cub and one with twins.  We figured one down one to go.  On the way out, this old stove caught my eye and I knew it would be a good day.

BlazeKing

The day before, after the Beaver Creek solve, we had gone to the earthquake visitor’s center and learned about the devastation and the science of that dreadful night almost exactly 50 years prior.  One of the things that visually interested me was the scarp.  I had never heard the word but a scarp is the actual place where the plates of the earth slip and is raised or depressed depending on your perspective I suppose.  The ranger at the center told us that the scarp at Cabin creek was so vertical that it took one of the benches from a picnic table up while leaving the table and other bench in place at the bottom of the scarp.  The picnic table was no longer there but the photos told the stories of this place and many others in the Hebgen area.  We went to check it out.  That is me on the top of the scarp.

Scarp

From there, we walked into a small glade just north of the scarp area and down to Cabin Creek.  We saw this friendly otter having her own breakfast.

Otter

Getting back in the car, we drove to the other side of the creek and began our hike up the creek.  About a quarter mile up the trail, you see a manmade dam.  It was built to keep fish habitats from intermingling or some such thing.  Anyhow, it is made of concrete and I can only imagine the amount of work that went into getting those materials up to that point in the creek.  Maybe I think about these things too much but I’m always amazed at the amount of work we humans do for the “good” just to be lazy and let the “bad” happen the same.

The hike up Cabin Creek Trail is beautiful  at least the first 45 minutes is.  Sheer cliffs of rocks mixed with trees and sloped meadows abound.  After the 45 minutes, there is a turn into the woods that is seemingly uphill both ways with lots of roots to trip on.  This is bear country so if you are hiking alone, find a pet rock and keep conversation with it…Loud conversaion.  This is no place for the meek. 

Our solve was to follow this trail until we got to the crossing at Cub Creek at which time we would follow the trailless Cub Creek upstream to Indulgence.  When we got to Cub, we began crossing the creek back and forth on the rocks available.  We came across one bend and saw a large embankment of red.  This was the closest thing we had seen to a blaze so we checked it out thoroughly.

RedBank

We even checked holes where it seemed like someone had set up some rocks but it was only mother nature smiling.

RedHole

upstream a little bit further, we came across a small pool area that had paw markings and some fur caught on logs and branches.  

BearBathtub

further yet, there was a small waterfall that went into a deep pool.  I took a stick and jabbed it down into the hole.  Right in the center, it made a hollow sounding thud whereas all around the sound or the stick hitting rock was solid.  I’m not one to think that Indulgence is at, near, or under a waterfall so I wrote it off as whatever.  But then I started thinking about it and I knew that I had to make sure so that I could sleep at night.  So I removed my clothing and went into the frigid water.  I was not mistaken that there was a reason for the hollow sound.  Somehow a flat piece of shale or fieldstone was resting on top of other stones making the four walls and a roof.  While climbing out of the small pool in the buff, I realized that a thin layer of clothing makes one a lot more confident in the wild than perhaps it should.  I hastily put on my coat of armour and with the dignity it provided, we decided to head back.  It was at this moment (again) that I found the remains of another creature.  I do not venture to guess what beast this once belonged but I will leave the picture for you to judge for yourself.

Bone

So listen all and listen well we did not find what Forrest hid.  However, by going on this adventure with the love of my life, I have treasure abundant.  If either of these stories helps you find the treasure, good for you.  I don’t know that we will go out searching again for this particular thing as there is so much adventure in this world, it seems a shame to dwell in one place too long but then again as we are all different, so are our goals and ambitions.  

Good Luck to All,

A&M

If you have any questions or comments, please ask away but know that a speedy response isn’t a guarantee.

 

 

 

 

Scrapbook One Hundred Thirty Four…

scrapbook

APRIL 2015

 

There once was a man named Fenn,
Who much to our chagrin,
Went on a quest
To hide his chest.
Now he taunts us all with his pen.

 

Dear Forrest,

I am writing this to you in letter form, instead of email, as I believe that letter writing has become an endangered species and I’m doing my part to keep it alive…I also think it is more personal.

First, let me preface the rest of this letter with this statement:  I am not “fishing” for clues or leads to the chest…I just wanted to share a few stories with you, if you have the time.

My husband, Jake, and I learned of your treasure story late last spring.  We read your poem and both of your books until the ink was embedded into our finger prints. Both Jake and I already read the Journal of a Trapper several times.  We conducted more research and settled in on an area near the Madison River and Hebgen Lake to begin our expedition.  Neither of us had been there before, so we decided to approach the first trip as a “scouting” effort.   We packed up our dogs, Jasper – Border Collie/Red Heeler mix; Hope – Australian Shepard who was a pound rescue and Rowdy – Toy Fox Terrier who was a puppy mill rescue, and headed out.  That trip we camped in our wall tent. (Won’t do it in that country again…As we live in a mountainous region of Western Wyoming we should have known better…More on that later.)

The first day we hiked around the Madison River where it makes its deposit into Hebgen Lake.  Jake collected a couple of treasures – a Bison skull and some wild Bison hair – he had to be sneaky and move real fast to get the hair. ☺)  I have enclosed a sample to share with you.

002

003The next morning we awoke to find very large grizzly tracks on top of our truck tire tracks.  Ursaphobe that I am, this was a little unsettling.

We spent most of that day fly fishing the Madison, both prior to Hebgen Lake and below the dam.  We managed to land a few fish, but the flies lost outnumbered the fish caught.  I have heard about a small creature, which lives in trees and bushes, and snatches fly fishermen’s lures just to wrap them around branches out of our reach.  It’s called it a Pharnox.  (Pronounced Far-Nocks)  No one has ever actually seen one, but I have plenty of evidence and experience to prove their existence.  I must confess to not being a “good” fly fisherperson, but I sure have a good time doing it.

001

On our second trip we took our old horse trailer and camped in that.  I felt much safer in a tin can than surrounded only by a piece of canvas.  We did not go home empty handed.  Jake stumbled upon a set of elk ivory from a winter-killed cow elk.  Lucky for him.  Not so lucky for the cow.

Our third trip was in June.  On one particular outing we had several encounters of interest:

We hiked up the Cabin Creek trail and ran across a tree with the initials FF carved into it.  Below is a picture.  It looks like someone tried to hack it up.  We wondered if this might be a tree you marked in your youth, or if someone was just “Fenning” with us.  (Sincerely, I’m still not looking for clues.  – I just thought you’d like to see these pics and it gave me a chance to utilize my new, made up verb, “Fenning”.)

004

005

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a little tough to make out on the left pic, but in person you can see the “FF”.

The one on the right just had an “F”.

After a few miles we ran out of trail at the confluence of Cub Creek and Cabin Creek.  It appeared that, at some time in the not too distant past, Cub Creek washed out the trail.  The water still was running fast and deep and I knew my little terrier, Rowdy, would have difficulty crossing.  Jake was determined to see what was on the other side.  He left his pack with me.  Which by the way contained his bear spray and .45 cal pistol.  (You probably see where this is going.)  Our Aussie, Hope, crossed over with him while Rowdy and I sat on the bank on the other side of the creek.

Pretty soon Hope came splashing back to me.  I glanced up and saw that Jake was upright and mobile in the willows, so I knew she wasn’t channeling her inner Lassie to tell me that “Jake had fallen in a well.”  She waited until her arrival at my side to shake off the muddy river water.  I stood up and turned around to face the sun, and the trail we had hike to get to this spot, and began brushing off the water.  About that time Hope and Rowdy took off barking like their tails were afire.  They got about twenty feet ahead of me towards the trail when I called them back.  I knew something was amiss when they each flanked me.  Hope was three feet ahead of me and five feet to my left.  Rowdy stationed himself similarly to my right.  They quit barking, hairs on their backs standing straight as soldiers, and eyes fixed toward the trail.  I looked up and saw a brown patch of hair.  Immediately, my subconscious tried to defuse my panic and told me it was probably just a moose, as we had encountered moose tracks on the way in.  Then, I saw a shoulder roll.  It was a bear.  Since the river was to my back, there would be no fleeing that direction, so my mind tried to convince my eyes that it was just a brown-phased black bear.  Nope.  It peered around the side of a tree.  There was a classic grizzly bear face staring back at me.  It then stepped out from behind the trees.  Yep.  Full grown boar grizzly.  Close enough to see its eyelashes and determine his gender.

By this time I had my bear spray in my left hand (safety off) and Jake’s 45 in my right (cock and locked.)  Knowing he had no protection on the other side of the river, I began to holler, “Bear!  Bear! Grizzly Bear!”  Unbeknownst to me, he was yelling, “Where?”  (For some reason he could hear my voice over the roar of the river, but I could not hear his.  I know there’s a joke in there somewhere about the acoustics of women’s voices over men’s…But I won’t go there.)  During this time, the bear continued to stare, unblinking, at the dogs and me.  He kept rocking forward on his massive front legs as though he was trying to decide whether or not to come through us.  About that time I saw Jake, in the river, out of the corner of my left eye.  I yelled, “There’s a grizzly bear over here!”  He hollered back, “I know!  I see it!”   My husband is not a man small in stature.  When the bear heard him, he took one look and I guess decided that Jake, added to the equation, was just too much to tackle and left the scene.  I maintained my cool until Jake was back at my side…At which time my gun hand began to tremble and I turned into Barney Fife.

We headed back down the trail toward the truck finding tracks where that bear had trailed us the entire way.  From one of the trees along the trail we did collect some of his hair.  I’ve included a bit for you with this letter.

About half way out, Hope commenced barking again.  We said, “Oh no!”   (Okay, those are not the exact words we said…)  But this time she was barking towards a mountain goat crossing the river.  Awesome!  I managed to obtain some of the goat’s hair from a bush where it snagged.  (Perhaps a Pharnox grabbed that too?)  There is a little baggie of his hair for you too.

006

We live in Wyoming and have long, cold winters with little else to do but shovel snow and conduct more “Fennian” Research.  This is Jasper at the task.  He is 16 yrs old with bad hips and canine lupus so he does not get to go on our hikes anymore.  For Jasper, it’s just “too far to walk.”

Sincerely,
La Lee

P.S. – For fun, I tied a fly with some of the grizzly bear hair.  Spoiler alert – trout don’t bite on grizz hair.  I’d send you a picture of the fly, but a Pharnox got it.