The Song of the Wolf

Winter isn’t coming, it’s finally here…

Thank God!

The snow has finally come, and the icy temperatures.  With those temperatures comes “winter mode” for Yellowstone.  I don’t mean winter mode for the Park Service and the visitors, I mean winter mode for everything.

If you weren’t around for my winter posts last year, I would encourage you to go back and read a few of those.  I’m not going to repeat those posts, other than to point to a few of the differences wrought by the change of season for those folks who are new to this stuff:

  1. Winter is the time for wolves. Contrary to what most folks believe, summer up here is a terrible time for wolves and other predators.  In summer, the prey animals — elk primarily — have all the food and energy they could ever want.  In winter, however, food is scarce, and so is the energy to fight or flee.  Food is scarce, I should expand, for those who live on grass and leaves.  For those who live on meat…well…there’s always something on the menu.
  2. Yep, the bison are still effectively armored tanks in winter, just as much as they are in summer.  Everyone still leaves them hell alone if they have any choice in the matter (except, of course, the idiot tourists who deserve their post-bison trips to Urgent Care).  Oh, every meat-eater within ten or twelve miles of a carcass will try to come to the feast if a bison dies naturally, but actual predatory kills are pretty damned rare.  It’s pretty much just “my” pack that does it here in Yellowstone, mainly because that pack’s range has some of the harshest winter conditions in the continental US (the Hayden Valley area, if you’re wondering).  Hooray for Mollie’s Pack, lupine overachievers!
  3. Snowshoes ain’t fashion accessories.  I lost a snowshoe, once, on a solo backcountry hike.  Ever tried to walk ten miles through thigh-deep snow on only one snowshoe?  I had to spend two hours hunting around in sub-zero temps to find my lost ‘shoe.  Trying to get out without that missing ‘shoe, however, would very likely have had a best case result of frostbite and hypothermia.  Ahem.
  4. Cougars are still a thing in winter, by the way.  People ask me if I’m afraid, doing the stupid shit I do in the backcountry.  No, I’m not.  The only wildlife that scares me, honestly, are cougars.  I can read the signs to know what’s going on in an area, predator-wise, and have a pretty good idea how close I am to danger.  But a cougar…  If they’re doing it right, the only time I’m gonna know a cougar is stalking me is when I feel the teeth and claws.
  5. No more tourists!  I have a good month to month-and-a-half before the snowmobilers start coming through, and the number of non-local folks willing to brave the cold and snow to go wildlife viewing is pretty damned small.  That means things are blessedly, happily quiet.  Of course, it also means that there is jack shit actually open in this tiny town, but with every silver lining comes a black cloud…

Random writing thought…or, more accurately, a random language and word-use thought.  Now, I’ve mentioned before that I write naval history, alongside (distantly) my fiction stories.  Well, as part of that, I read and watch a ton of stuff — both fiction and nonfiction — about ships and navies, both in war and in peace.  I watched, the other day, a French movie about subs.*  Now, this movie had some “accuracy issues,” but so does pretty much every US submarine movie (the German flick Das Boot was one of the very, very few to get it right).  The word-use thing, however…that’s what set my writer-nerd nerves to tingling, not so much the movie itself.

The movie (and a plot point of which they didn’t make enough) was called Le Chant de Loup.  Netflix translates that as The Wolf’s Call, but I prefer my own translation of The Wolf’s Song.  That phrase is referring to the eerie, screeching “cry” of active sonar when it is hunting you.  I’ve heard (in recordings…not actively) that sound, both the lupine and sonar versions.  It is not a perfect metaphor by any means, but the emotion and imagery behind it…I hadn’t heard that phrase used in that way, and I absolutely loved it.  Writers for the win!

Yep, I’m still a nerd.

*You can stop snorting about “cheese eating surrender monkeys” right now.  The French have a navy that is larger and more effective than the British, as a matter of fact, and behind only the three major powers (US, China and Russia).  They are actually one of the very few (beside the US, British and Russian navies) to extensively use nuclear subs.  

COVID update — erm…if you thought the virus was magically going away, that bubble of yours needs some freaking bursting.  My tiny little town is in the middle of its third outbreak.  Including, I will add, me.  What do you call a bitter, cynical writer in quarantine?  Bored.

Mollie’s pack at work.

Winter is Coming

It’s coming…can you hear it?

It’s coming!

Okay, look, I was once described — quite accurately, mind you — as a 12-year-old with a car and a job.  It doesn’t actually matter how “old” I am, a big chunk of me is still that young kid who wants nothing more than to lose himself in fantasy and dreams and other worlds.  For me, as a writer, that is an inescapable part of who I am, and of why I write.

But it spills over into the real world, too.

Last night was the Gardiner Christmas Stroll.  For most of the year, Gardiner, Montana is a busy gateway community, one of the main entry points into Yellowstone.  But right now, after the close of the autumn season and before the start of the winter, it is just a tiny, tight-knit town.  Everyone who lives and works here supports the park, and caters to the tourists, in some way, so we all share many of the same highs and lows, many of the same frustrations, the same jokes, the same reality…

Yellowtone’s winter seasons kicks off on December 15th, so the Stroll is the last chance we really have to enjoy and celebrate each other, rather than the tourists.  It is a chance to chat and get to know the others, those who you won’t get much of a chance to see and talk-to — except in passing — when the buses and snowcoaches and hordes get running again.

For me, the Stroll marks also the beginning of that which I love so much: the Christmas season.  That’s why I talked about being an arrested-adolescent, by the way.

Like most kids, I love Christmas.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, in spite of my best efforts to be that “12-year-old with a car and a job,” Christmas looks different, and certainly feels different from when I was young, but…  But, I can still feel the echoes and hints of that little kid I used to be, back when what I was matched who.

I have friends to whom Halloween is the ultimate holiday.  The license to let loose their own inner-child in dark, over-the-top worlds of fantasy and nightmare is just too much to resist for them.

For others, it is the whimsy and drunken idiocy of St Patty’s Day, or Cinco de Mayo…

The patriotism and backyard traditions of July 4th…

For me, it’s the snow and the trees.  It’s the lights and decorations.  It’s the breathless enthusiasm and dreams of the young.  It’s the sense of community and sharing with family and friends.  It’s the knowledge that the deepest, darkest part of winter is genuinely a reminder of the spring to come.

And it was the Stroll that truly brought home to me that it’s coming…

shutterstock_543528610George RR Martin had it wrong, by the way.  His words, intended to be dark and fearful and foreboding, are nothing of the sort.

Winter is coming.

Winter — Christmas — is coming!t0z4r3mwzccfc_600

Oh, I’ll be out I the park watching the wolves and snowshoeing the trails.  Never doubt that.  I’ll also be working long hours, through frustrations and annoyances, to support the organization and the park.  But…but, more than that, I’ll be who I really am: that 12-year-old kid, staring off into the distance in wonder and delight.  That kid who still dreams, who still lives in a world of magic and possibilities.  And the adult shell that exists around that little kid will still use those dreams to write, and to create.

 

P.S.

I’ve written before about this time of year.  This is the most recent (and Christmas-y) of those old posts.  But, for those who are just as lazy and slacker-ish as I am, I’ll boil all that down to — of course — a song.  My favorite Christmas carol, as a matter of fact.  The Christmas carol, if you want to get right down to it, for the broken and flawed who have nothing to offer but themselves…

 

P.P.S.

Err…I talked about two songs in the linked post above, but I hadn’t yet learned to link the videos inline with the text.  Below are the videos of the other two Christmas carols that truly matter to me:

90 Days…And A Bit More

The last snow here in Yellowstone came on June 22nd, the summer solstice.

CB47650C-F077-48B3-8517-47E9EC463940Summer has not yet officially ended, but the first snow has come already…on September 21st.  That’s right, two days before the official end of summer.  Not even ninety days, and the snows are here again.

Yep, that’s about right for this place: three months of summer, and nine of winter.

It’s a good thing I like the cold.  Hell, it’s even better that I like hiking in the cold!  The animals are out this time of year, you see, eating like mad to get ready for winter.  The only other period that comes even close to this is the early spring, when they are again eating like mad to recover from the winter.

Two days ago I was out on a favorite trail of mine, early in the morning.  Within the first mile I saw a wolf pack stalking an elk herd, and a grizzly circling a dying bison.  Throw in the eagle I saw as well and I hit the freaking jackpot within 20 minutes of setting out!

“But why are you going up there again?!” I was asked six months ago.

Gee, I wonder…

Err…that’s why I’m staying, too.

Yep, that’s right, I gave in and signed up to stay through the winter.  Through temperatures of 20-30 degrees below zero (that’s in Fahrenheit, in Celsius it translates to … err … umm … freaking COLD).  Through 20+ feet of snow on the ground.  Through no possible road travel.  Through no one around but a few fellow lunatics…

I’m gonna love it.  But…

But…

But what about the writing?

Ahem.8B440182-2AE3-4395-B6F6-5D762FF269FE

I’m sanguine.

Ish.

Hey, my productivity can’t get any lower than the last six months…

…can it?

The good news, of course, is that I’ll be up here — still mostly out of contact and 8A5B492A-F26A-4432-B7FF-9A484642E648away from it all — as the current political climate gets nothing but nuttier as the election comes ever closer.  Like the tramp of sweet, cute little lizard, it comes ever closer…

Ahh, a special thank you to Ray Bradbury for the ultimate expression of how I feel about the coming election: something wicked this way comes, indeed!

This way comes the carnival of insults and bitterness…28C1D836-6628-469A-87BF-62D3203305B2

The carnival of partisan rancor and lies…

The carnival of knee-jerk hate and intolerance…

The carnival of everything that’s wrong with us as a nation…

Yeah, I’ll take the starving bears and wolves, thank you very much.

Summer Solstice 2019 and It’s Snowing. Again.

It is officially the Summer Solstice as I write this.  It’s the longest day of the year, the official start of summer, and…well…there’s no other way to say this: it’s freaking snowing.  Again.

01f164abb6067094bdc3837a4bbba401Now, look…you all know me.  You all know that I love me some snow.  Heck, I’ve thought more than once about staying up here in Yellowstone through an entire winter (with our average of 20+ feet of snow), but even I have had enough of this shit.

How about some goddamned sun, for pete’s sake?!?!29627147917_b0d56ed5b8_b

Do I need to sacrifice some animal on the nearest pagan altar?  Because, honestly, I got lots of ‘em around.  I have bison, I have elk, I have tourists…01-Crowd_0544

Okay, so honestly, I’d feel better about the using the tourists than the poor, innocent bison, but whatever gets me some damned sunshine…

images-2What?  Grumpy?  Me?  Oh, please…I’m the soul of cheerful optimism!

Ahem.

On the other hand, most of the tourist kids are having snowball fights, are laughing and jumping and just generally having a great time, while their parents are grousing and complaining about the weather.  You gotta smile at that, even if just a little bit.

2c315dc867c5fac31f5ed5b3fee831bfThe animals, on the other hand, are absolutely loving this semi-weird weather.  Grizzlies are many things — they are fast, they are powerful, they are both awesome and fearsome to watch — but beyond everything else, they are also lazy as hell.  When it gets hot, they just want to loll around in the shade and go for the occasional swim in cool water.  When it stays cold like this?  They’re out moving around, eating and carousing, and in general just having an ursine ball.

And to a bison, with all that insulation?  Yeah, 8 degrees and 80 degrees feel just about the same.Tom_Szajner

It is in fact only us wimpy hoomins who are bitching and complaining that it’s “too cold” and “too wet” and “too grey”…

On the other hand: I’M FREAKING COLD!!

Harrumph.