TravelingMel

Passage Creek Falls holds a special place in my heart. Tucked up in Mill Creek--the largest drainage on "our side" of the Abasroka Mountains--it's a place Henry and I visited when I was pregnant with Anders. It's the place where Anders did his first longish hike, and the trail where Finn walked two miles at just two years old.

2006 flashback. Anders' first trip to Passage Creek Falls.

Rigby in his "don't shoot me, I'm not a wolf" vest in 2006.

It's also quite lovely. Late summer means tons of thimbleberries, raspberries, and strawberries. Fall is all warm colors and crisp days. In winter the ski to frozen falls (take the sticks off before the little cliff!) is a perfect leg stretch. And in spring, the water is high and the falls are big.

This time, it was Finn's longest walk to date. That's a pretty big deal. Getting Finn to walk five miles round trip with little complaint and no meltdowns, just might be a breakthrough. I don't want to make too big a deal of it, but this boy who sticks to his guns, stands up for himself, and doesn't let anyone else tell him what to do, can really impede on my hiking dreams. Fortunately, that passion and persistence will really pay off for him one day.

Passage Creek Falls trail is also the place I learned about candy motivation a couple years ago. This time it was trail mix with M & Ms. It works for me, too.

There are two mandatory, and one optional bridge crossing to get to the falls. All three are fun.

I love the contrast between the burned trees, green plants, and blue sky.

Shrooms!

Bluebells.

Picking dandelions along the trail kept the boys busy. We only pick non-native plants.

Then we entertain ourselves by decorating Diesel. Doesn't he look pretty?

Just beyond this trail junction is where you take your skis off and leave your horse behind.

Passage Creek Falls was pumping.

Diesel still only cares about the stick.

Phlox.

If only we could keep going into this...

Larkspur.

Rock inspection.

Plan Your Own Trip

What: A 2.5 mile (one-way) hike to Passage Creek Falls. The first 1.6 miles is pancake flat, then the trail goes up a bit, and steeply down to the falls.
Why: Easy trail, pretty flowers, big waterfall.
Where: Take Hwy 89 S. from Livingston about 14 miles. Turn left on Mill Creek Road, cross the Yellowstone River and East River Road, then drive about 15 miles to the trailhead on right.
Who: Families, kids, adults, mountain bikers, horse riders...

Day Hikes Around Bozeman, Montana is a good hiking guide for this trail and another 109 trails in the area.

We woke up at El Maizal to find ourselves on a terrace, surrounded on three sides by mountains across deep valleys. Since we arrived in the dark we didn't know exactly what to expect; we weren't disappointed.

El Maizal is a little farm perched on the side of the Andes. I didn't write down the couple's names who farm there. The husband had left to tend corn crops or something by the time we got going, but the wife (did Wilbert call her Mama Tomasina?) gave us a tour of her home.

Our campsite at El Maizal

Getting busy in the barnyard. This is what you walk through to get to the outhouse.

Nothing is free.

Mama Tomasina (maybe) in the doorway of her house.

It was tiny and dark with a dirt floor. In the back, guinea pigs, or cuy, skittered around. When they are big enough, they will become dinner. For now they are just cute. The small attic was filled with dry corn that provided both insulation and food for animals and people. Pigs, goats, cows, chickens, and other barnyard animals wandered around outside. On the campground side--a couple grassy terraces that just fit our eight tents--foxgloves stood tall like sentinels on either side of a gate.

If you've been reading the many chapters of this travelogue, you know what our day looked like. We climbed up, up, up to San Juan Pass. The Rio Blanco, already about 3,000 feet below us at El Maizal, grew smaller and smaller and then disappeared all together. The lush jungle of the morning gave way to the puna--a high treeless plateau near the pass.

Amy decorated.

Wilbert and Amy head up the wet, jungly, trail.

They don't mind waiting while I take photos of flowers.

Totally worth it.

I'll get there eventually.

Another quick photo stop. You should have seen all the flowers I didn't take pictures of.

Into the puna and almost to the pass.

I made it! 13,000+ feet.

Domingo was waiting for us at the 13,615-foot pass with a hearty, vegetable lunch. Amazed as I was (again) by Domingo's ability to pack up after we leave, pass us on the trail, and have lunch going before we get there, what really blew me away was the view.

Inuksuk on the pass. They probably call it something else in Peru, but these cairns are offerings to the mountain gods.

Lunch at the top.

Pos-lunch break.

We stood on the edge of the saddle taking photos of ourselves in front of Marcana, Puma Cillu, Chocquetacarpo, and other snowy peaks while braving the heat "down low." For the second or third time we were honored by Andean condors soaring overhead while we ate.

Andean condors are so big--one of the largest birds in the world that is still able to fly--that they have to live in windy areas to take advantage of the lifting air currents. These vultures are considered endangered, but we were lucky to see a bunch of them on this trip. It pays to stick to high, windy passes.

Andean condor blessing our trip. Or looking for something dead to eat. Hard to tell.

Two thumbs up for this awesome Bella Treks adventure!

From the San Juan Pass (locally called Yanama Pass), we walked down narrow trails to a valley full of lupines, orange lilies, verdant green hillsides and craggy mountains overhead. The Yanama Valley wowed us all. There had been no access by vehicle until very recently, so everything had to be brought in on horses and mules. It's one of the most pastoral, beautiful places I've ever seen.

Amy rounds the bend on the hike down into the Yanama Valley.

Is there anywhere lupines don't grow?

It's pretty, no?

I wish we had seen the mules on this section of trail.

Yanama Valley.

About 200 families live in the Yanama Valley, mostly as subsistence farmers. We walked past several little farms surrounded by low rock walls to get to the place we'd be staying. Chickens and roosters wandered through gladioluses, Easter lilies, poppies, and other bright, tall flowers.

Most exciting of all was the Fanta poster at the entrance to our camp/farm. That orangey, high fructose mix of goodness is something I crave when I travel internationally. When I've been in Belize, Panama, Turkey, Argentina, and every other country outside of the U.S. I want Fanta. I love Fanta. Not in Canada, though. In Canada, I want cocktails.

An oasis.

As usual, our tents were already set up in two neat lines. I crawled into mine to rest and read, but when the guy came with the Fantas and beer, I was out in seconds, soles in hand, ready for my treat.

Just another lovely campsite.

I wrote in my journal that this was one of the most physically demanding things I've ever done. Every day we climbed and descended thousands of feet, all at high elevation. But, since I've been back, the hard part of it has slipped out of my brain leaving only the amazing parts. And maybe the hard work made everything else that much more rewarding.

Last weekend, Ross came through Livingston (he lives in Seattle) and we had a little BBQ at Felicia's. He told Henry this trip was one of the most physically challenging things he had ever done--and that guy has done a lot of hard core stuff. It made me feel less wimpy. And it made me realize that even the hard stuff isn't that hard. You just keep putting one foot in front of the other, lean on your sticks, and keep moving.

Plan your own trip

Are you reading along and thinking, "I want to go on a trip like this!"? Call my friend Felicia at Bella Treks, she'll set you up. And it's not just Peru, she goes all over South America, Morocco, Yellowstone, and a ton of other places.

It's time for another edition of Field Trip Friday and this week it's a doozy--three locations in one super fun trip.

We started with a two-hour drive to Jefferson City and Tizer Botanic Gardens and Arboretum. I didn't even know this place existed until last fall. I saw a friend had "liked" it on Facebook, and about had a heart attack of excitement. A botanic garden in my very own state?!?! Why didn't someone tell me about this?

All winter I checked out the photos of gardens under the snow that the Tizer folks posted, and when spring arrived I was ready to go. For the boys' education, of course.

TIzer Botanic Garden has about 0.05 miles of trails through several gardens. It's not huge, but it is packed full. You can check out the various gardens and homesteaders cabins on their site. It was raining on the day we went, so we didn't linger as long as we would have on a sunny day. In retrospect, I should have waited another month. In addition to sunshine being likely, there would have been a lot more blooms.

Lots of fairies and gnomes perched along the banks of Prickly Pear Creek.

Get your free loaner umbrella to enjoy Tizer on a rainy day.

Apple blossoms = spring.

Bluebells on the Wildflower Walk.

Plant investigation.

Heading to the gazebo for lunch during a break in the rain.

Scotch moss and a Buddha in the Meditation Garden.

Still, it was a lovely visit. I picked up a couple plants at their garden center and am looking forward to another trip.

After walking around in the rain looking at plants, the boys were ready to warm up and play. On to Boulder Hot Springs. Although the buildings look super creepy as you drive up, the pool is great. I'd been there once before, but it was eight or more years ago and the boys had never had the pleasure of dipping their toes in the warm mineral waters.

We've had to stop going to our local hot spring lately because the water has been ridiculously hot. At Boulder Hot Springs it was perfect for swimming and soaking as we checked out the mountains of the Deerlodge National Forest.

There are two indoor plunge pools in each changing room-- a hot pool and a cool pool. They are segregated by sex. I couldn't send the boys into a pool alone, and a sign on the women's changing room door said boys four and older were prohibited. (I took Finn in with me anyway; I'm not sending my four-year-old into a changing room he's never been in before. Anders managed it, but the two of them together is trouble.)

So, the plunge pools were out for us. I'm the only one I trust alone in a swimming pool. There are some coed hours, but not during the time we were there. Luckily, it didn't matter. We had a blast swimming in the big pool, and we'd rather be outside anyway.

The outdoor pool was the perfect temperature for swimming.

Maybe these field trips aren't just for the kids...

Next time I'm in Boulder, I'd love to check out the Radon Mines. They sound kind of weird, and I like weird. Not really kid-appropriate, though.

Since we were in the neighborhood, we made a stop at Elkhorn ghost town in Elkhorn State Park. Dating from the second wave of Montana's gold and silver rushes, Elkhorn has survived as one of the better ghost towns in the west. Its principal mine, the Elkhorn, was discovered around 1872. Booming in the 1880s and 1890s before tapering off in this century, the Elkhorn reputedly produced some $14 million in silver during its long life.

A lot of the old buildings have been renovated and have people living in them. And there is still an active mine. Anders was hoping to see some dynamite, but unfortunately, the mine was fenced. There are a few standing, unoccupied buildings, which are fun to look at. If we had more time, I would have like to take the boys through the graveyard and walked around a bit more. Next time.

Gilliam Hall and Fraternity Hall at Elkhorn.

Plan Your Own Trip

What: Tizer Botanic Gardens and Arboretum, Boulder Hot Springs, and in Elkhorn State Park Ghost Town.
Why: Flowers! Plants! High elevation gardening! Not to mention hot springs, old buildings, and a piece of Montana history.
Where: Check out the links above for directions to each place. Tizer Gardens and Boulder Hot Springs have their entrance fees listed on their sites.
Who: Families, kids, adults, plant lovers, history buffs.

For our official start of hiking season, we chose the Hoodoo Trail in Yellowstone. The boys and I hiked it one other time, but they were too young to remember.

We don't get far before stopping to look at flowers.

Buttercup--worth stopping for.

Up close with Anders.

Checking out the route.

I like this trail for kids because it's short, sparsely traveled even though it is right near super-popular Mammoth, mostly downhill. There are lots of fun rocks, the so called "hoodoos," to climb on.

As is our way, we stopped 900 times for snacks and Finn was exhausted (his words) three minutes into the hike. Fortunately, he rallied and walked all but two minutes of the trail by himself. It may have been due to the promise of ice cream. Whatever works....

Finn can't walk without holding someone's hand.

The second of many snack breaks.

Playing the sticks to the wilderness.

These rocks aren't what I think of as "hoodoos." Rather than pinnacles of weathered sandstone, they are travertine stacks from Terrace Mountain. Travertine is formed when hydrothermal water brings dissolved calcium carbonate to the earth’s surface, where it releases carbon dioxide and creates the white rock.The terraces at Mammoth Hot Springs are made out of the same rock, but the hot springs are still active there and growing the terraces. The hoodoos are old travertine formations left over from when this was once a thermally active area that fell into a jumble in a landslide.

To learn more about the geologic history of the hoodoos, watch this minute-and-a-half video.

Anders named this "Rock City."

He has to climb on everything. He just has to.

Not to be outdone, Finn does a little climbing, too.

Arrowleaf balsamroot--a sure sign that summer will eventually get here.

We are so happy!

Aspens leafing out.

Finn!

The trail ends at the Upper Terraces, and we walked out the Upper Terrace Road to the main road, where I hitchhiked back to our car.

There is a loop option for folks who don't want to hitchhike, or are looking for a longer walk. Start at the same trailhead, but instead of veering right at the Hoodoo junction, continue on ahead. After 2.3 miles, the route turns east at a 3-way junction and climbs to the top of Snow Pass, a narrow saddle pinched between Terrace Mountain and Clagett Butte. After cresting the pass, the trail drops into an unnamed creek valley above Pinyon Terrace, then rounds to the south along Terrace Mountain's eastern edge. Catch the hoodoo trail and continue on in the opposite direction we walked it. The loop is 7 miles.

Entering the thermal basin.

Larkspur in abundance.

Upper Terraces of Mammoth Hot Springs.

It was kind of interesting that all the Americans sped right past me. It wasn't until some Eastern Europeans came by that I got a ride. They didn't even speak much English, and they were willing to take me back up the hill.

You'd pick me up, wouldn't you?

Plan Your Own Trip

What: Hoodoo Basin Trail in Yellowstone National Park (3 miles one-way)
Why: Easy hike, hoodoos to climb on, interesting geology, views of Bunsen Peak, pretty meadows, hot springs (at the end).
Where: Drive 4.8 miles south of Mammoth on the Mammoth-Norris road. Park on the right (east) side of the road in the Bunsen Peak parking area. Cross the road to the Glen Creek Trailhead and follow to the signed Hoodoo junction. Go right.
Who: Families, kids, anyone looking for a short, interesting walk.

First off, Henry said I should tell you how to pronounce "Choquequirao." It took me a little practice--the quechua words are tricky. Show-kay-ca-row (that "row" rhymes with "cow.") I don't know if that helps, but there you go.

It seemed that the campsites in this little slice of the Andes kept getting better and better. We woke up on the edge of terrace overlooking mountains and river. After breakfast we hiked back up to Choquequirao to check out the llamas.

Amy with her canine friend.

Typical doorway at Choquequirao.

The hole in the middle of the rock was used to tie yarn to as an anchor for weaving projects.

Room with a view.

Choquequirao was one of the last bastions of resistance and refuge of the Son of the Sun (the "Inca"), Manco Inca Yupanqui, who fled Cusco after his siege of the city failed in 1535. It's unlikely the Spanish ever made it up there.

Of course, getting to the llamas requires a bit of a decent. It is Peru, after all, and everything is up or down an incredibly steep slope. From the main plaza we followed a little path to a set of rock steps that dropped several hundred feet into the canyon. Apparently the Incans had much smaller feet that I do, so I could fit about half of my foot on each step.

We descended along the edge of the terraces, checking out the llamas as we climbed down. There were about 24 of them, each as tall as a person. There may be more; only about 30 percent of Choquequirao has had its jungle removed. (Sidenote: How does one estimate the amount of undiscovered ruin?)

Down to the llamas.

Keep going. Down, down, down.

Wilbert tells us how important llamas were to the Incans.

Mountains above the llamas.

Felicia!

Senecio

The llamas!

Mama llama and her baby.

That's me.

Wilbert, Ross, Amy, Kelli, and Felicia.

Fog climbing the mountain and obscuring the llamas.

After oohing and aahing at the llamas and the view, we climbed back up the steps and onto a less-steep side trail. At the plaza we found Wilbert standing in the trees at the top of a (say it with me) incredible steep aqueduct. "Is that the trail?," I asked incredulously. Of course it was, and off we went 1500 feet up to a little pass.

Another photo instigated by Wilbert.

View from above.

After a tough previous day, I snapped into shape. The rest of the trip was steep and hard, but wasn't such a big deal anymore. The flowers along the pass were tremendous, the mountains were big, and after a bit we dropped down 5,000 feet to the Rio Blanco. The first thing we did was take off our boots and soak our feet in the cold water while sitting on warm rocks in the sun. Then Ross put a ton of mayo on his lunch thinking it was some sort of mango sauce. Hee hee.

Fireweed

One of many bromeliads.

Heading down to the Rio Blanco.

At the Rio Blanco and ready for lunch!

Torrent duck.

So happy to have my boots off.

After lunch we climbed 3,000 feet or so to our campsite. Some places were so steep and gravely that you slid back a bit with each step. As we closed in on the little farm that was to be our camp, I got to practice my cow herding skills and push several vacas up the trail.

Paintbrush

Maybe a rose

Our campsite.

After settling into the El Maizal farm, Domingo made us the most delicious popcorn and tea. Famers grow corn all over the Andes at high elevations. The mountains are so steep (are you sick of hearing that?) that little farms have to be highly terraced--just like in Inca times.

Some of us took showers in a FREEZING outdoor shower. It was a step up from the hose with a water bottle nozzle we saw a couple nights before, but somewhat primitive. I wasn't expecting to shower at all during the trek, so it was all luxury for me.

All the screaming I did in the shower must have attracted mosquitoes, because I was covered in bites after that. I had been smug while sweating in long pants while the rest of the group wore shorts and got massacred by the tiny insects. Not so much anymore.

As was becoming my habit, I was asleep by 9 pm and up around 4 am. Not the best schedule, but I did get a lot of early morning reading in. Fireflies were dotting the darkness like tiny, mobile stars. The baryard animals were asleep and pretty soon, so was I.

Plan your own trip

Are you reading along and thinking, "I want to go on a trip like this!"? Call my friend Felicia at Bella Treks, she'll set you up. And it's not just Peru, she goes all over South America, Morocco, Yellowstone, and a ton of other places.