WIND RIVER RANGE
1990
If you’re familiar with the history of American wildlife painting, you know about
Carl Rungius (1869 – 1959). His oil paintings of large mammals set a standard that
today’s wildlife artists still measure themselves by. Venturing into the wilds to hunt
and observe animals was a way of life for him. Starting in1895 he spent part of each
of the following five years in Wyoming’s Wind River Mountains.
The “Wind Rivers” are part of the Rocky Mountains, containing some of the
highest and most rugged alpine terrain in America. I wanted to walk the entire length
of the range and experience these mountains the way Rungius had: without the aid of
marked foot-trails. Most people today follow the well-worn “Highline Trail” which
remains well below the high peaks. I planned to forge my own route wherever I could
to stay above timberline -up on the crest of the Continental Divide.
Starting in Jackson Hole, I first had to walk across the Gros Ventre Wilderness
to Green River Lake. From there it was all compass and instinct across a grey
landscape of broken rock and glacial lakes.
Past Daphne Lake and Bear Lakes I had my first glimpse of bighorn sheep
(painted so many times by Rungius). This was a male with curled horns,
peering down at me from a narrow ravine like a gargoyle. Atop Flat Top
Mountain was a small herd of mostly females and young. I spent a day there
with them, keeping my distance, observing.
Descending down Elbow Creek from between Lost Eagle Peak and White
Rocky, I hit the Highline Trail for the first time in a deep wooded valley of
the upper Green River. I followed it for a while, but I’m not entirely sure
where my own route diverged next. As I write this description years later,
I wish my notes had been more complete. I simply remember departing the
heavily used trail somewhere around Stroud peak and not seeing it again for
a few days. My visions are of panting hard for air up in those high altitudes;
of slopes littered with shards of rock; of walking for miles along intensely
bright ridge crests under wide open skies, looking down upon awesome
glaciers and glaring September snowfields.
Camped at a high pass one evening, the weather flipped suddenly from gorgeous
sunset colors to dark thunder clouds that made the ground dance with hail. I could
easily see what drew Rungius back here time after time. The light, the colors, the
|form of the mountains were uniquely Wind River. When the sky was clear it was
flawlessly blue. I often set up a lightweight tripod to mount the camera on for
landscape photography. The possibilities and compositions were endless.
From the Cirque of Towers I wandered south toward a 13,192 foot peak bearing
the name of these mountains. It wasn’t the highest (Gannet Peak to the north was
612 feet higher), but being isolated at the southern end of the range with no accessible
trails in the vicinity gave it an awesome vantage point. The north face dropped
vertically hundreds of feet to a mile long glacier. The south offered vistas of where
I would now descend to the Popo Agie River and the vast plains that fanned out into
the distance.
From Sinks Creek State Park at the mountains’ edge I followed a highway by foot
into the town of Lander. I don’t really know how far I walked; I guessed roughly it
was about 250 miles from Jackson Hole. What left its mark was the incredible visual
experience.
My wife met me at a main junction in Lander driving a rental car, and together we spent
the following week exploring Yellowstone by vehicle.
