Winter Magic: XC Skiing to Lone Star Geyser

Pinch me.

I experienced the most magical winter moment of my life in December.  Matt and I were in Yellowstone National Park as part of our Winter in Wonderland Megavacation.  We were cross-country skiing on the Lone Star Geyser Trail.  We had just watched the geyser erupt with glorious steam and spray.  The jets of water froze in the air as they fell which gave the impression of shooting stars.  The trees lining the trail were flocked with snow.  We glided along through the beautiful stillness and quiet with the snow sparkling in the sunshine like diamonds as far as the eye could see.  

The snow was so feathery and dramatic in texture.   It was remarkable.  I couldn't stop marveling over it.

It felt like living in a snowglobe.  Like being in a postcard.  Like something from a movie.  It was all so brilliant and perfect.  Just exquisite.  I think that's the best word for it. An exquisitely beautiful experience.  My heart swells even now recalling it.  

Matt on the trail.

I've mentioned the Lone Star Geyser Trail before.  It was a trail that took us a few tries before we successfully made it all the way to the geyser area. Matt and I favor visiting the park during the shoulder seasons, like April and October.  Before we got snowshoes though the snow would thwart us sometimes.  As was the case a couple of times with Lone Star.  We brought snowshoes and cross-country skis along for the Winter in Wonderland Megavacation.  It was our first time skiing in the park and the Lone Star excursion would prove to be the crown jewel of the trip. 

Me on the trail.

Since we're total novices at skiing we asked the staff at the Old Faithful Lodge ski shop for advice.  After talking with us about our timeline and skill level (and the unseasonably low snow cover) she suggested we take a snowcoach from the lodge to the Lone Star trailhead the next morning and then ski out to the geyser.  This struck us as a perfect idea.  It would be about seven miles of skiing.  We are familiar with the area and know the trail is broad and flat.  For the return trip we were advised to follow the road back to the lodge rather than the other trail options back.  That seemed very doable.  We love geysers and we'd never seen Lone Star in this way.  For us as new skiers, it seemed to be a perfect balance of easy terrain and winter Yellowstone adventure.  

Matt on the trail as we return to the trailhead.

We reserved a spot on the 8am snowcoach.  When we turned up in the lobby we learned we were the only ones who wanted to get out on the trail that early.  We had the whole coach to ourselves.  Unlike the snowcoach we took from Mammoth to Old Faithful which had huge wheels, the snowcoach that dropped us at that trailhead was the kind with tank treads.  That was an interesting experience.  It was much noisier!  Up until 2016, all snowcoaches were tread vehicles.  The snowcoach driver made sure we had everything we needed and then left us at the trailhead.  Just me and Matt and all that beautiful forest.  

A view of the snowy landscape trailside. 

Matt and I were dazzled from the first stride we made over the snow.  The trail follows the Firehole River which made a tranquil murmur in the stillness of the trees and bounced back gorgeous reflections of the snowy world.  When we were moving the only sound was the quiet swishing of our skis.  When we stopped moving it felt like we could hear the minutest of sounds, even at a distance--a chickadee calling, clumps of snow falling from a branch, the water moving through the ice that had formed along the riverbank.   The trail was relatively flat with a little hill here and there which was fun practice for us.

I had the best time gliding through those trees.

The day was partly cloudy.  Between the intermittent sunshine and the physical activity, we soon stripped off our coats and let the crisp winter air cool our skin.  It was certainly cold--probably in the 30s--but we were happy and warm.  Inside and out.

The snowflakes were so big!!  We could easily make out the unique beauty of individual flakes, like those on the tips of this pine bough.

We were both surprised when we arrived so quickly at the geyser.  The skiing had been so much fun and the scenery so enchanting that we hadn't noticed how fast we'd flown through the forest.  Boom.  All of a sudden I could see the enormous cone of the geyser through the trees ahead of us.  Little did we know how perfect our timing would prove to be!

Matt and Lone Star Geyser

Matt and I worked our way around the geyser--over the bridge--to the logbook where we would have a closer view of the geyser's eruption. That part--the clearing right around the geyser--was difficult for us.  The snow was much deeper and ungroomed.  We both took a tumble or two.  The bridge got Matt.  The little hill got us both.  I floundered mightily to get back on my feet after wiping out on that hill.  It was comical and annoying.

The disturbed snow indicates where I struggled to right myself again after my first fall.

We posted up to watch the geyser which, to our surprise and delight, appeared to be in its minor eruption phase.  Lone Star Geyser erupts about every three hours.  There is a minor eruption phase and then it goes quiet for 20+ minutes, and then Lone Star really lets loose.  The spray can reach up to 45 feet.  I had a hard time believing it really was a minor eruption.  That would make our timing so perfect it was almost as if we planned it.   

Lone Star Geyser during an eruption.

Sure enough though!  It was true.  I felt blessed beyond measure when the geyser blasted off the first tall jet.  The winter air froze the water in mid-flight.   The leading edge would turn to ice and then arc down to earth like a meteor with a blazing tail.  What a spectacle to behold!  It was too cold to stay put for hours without moving.  As it was we periodically moved about in the clearing during the hour we were there for the full eruption cycle.  We wouldn't have been able to hang out for three hours waiting for a show had we just missed it.  A gift of timing!    

Those trees along the trail were so lovely.  

After the geyser show wrapped up, we set out on the trail in reverse.  It was even more glorious going in this direction!!  The trees looked more heavily flocked with snow.  Plus, the return trip revealed that the trail was actually a slight incline almost the whole way in from the trailhead.  It wasn't noticeable until we felt like we were absolutely cruising on the way back out.  It was almost effortless.  We were back at that trailhead before we knew it.  

A view of the Firehole River as it runs alongside the trail.

We followed the road back to the lodge, as suggested instead of taking the Kepler Cascades Trail (moderate) or Howard Eaton Trail (difficult).  The middle of the road was used by snowcoaches and snowmobiles, but the edges were still groomed and easy enough for skiing--though there weren't always tracks to follow and we had to break some snow ourselves.  There was one big hill that Matt thought was riotously good fun.  I found it intimidating and was hitting the brakes almost the whole way down.  That's basically how it goes with hills on our bicycles, too.  

Matt on the trail.

There was one unforeseen problem with taking the road.  It was more exposed to the brilliant sunshine than the trail had been.  The forest had sheltered the snow on the trail whereas on the road it started to melt and get sticky.  This made gliding on skis more difficult.  My skis got gummed up with snow and when I attempted to clean it off I fell down...and hurt myself*.

More of that fabulous shaggy snow.

I refuse to let that be central to the story though.  (I have to give credit to Matt for helping me achieve this attitude.)  It was a regrettable ending, but the magic is the part that springs to mind when I think back on that day.  Gliding through that perfect wintery forest with Matt who was smiling ear to ear.  Just us and Yellowstone.  It was such an intimate national park experience.  It was such a beautiful winter moment. That is the stuff I will remember first and foremost.  That's the part I want to tell everyone about.  

Matt fell in love with cross-country skiing that day.  He eagerly awaits more snow so he can get out there and become acquainted with our local skiing opportunities.  I wonder if he'll ever put on his snowshoes again.

Oh, what a gloriously happy day!

* I fell about 1/4 mile from the lodge.  My first thought was, "&#%$.  I just broke my ankle."  I didn't say that to Matt because somehow saying it would make it more true or something and I didn't want to cause extra concern.  Skiing back to the lodge was a fairly agonizing act of sheer will, but I made it.  I finally got an x-ray a week later because the pain and bruising were still so prominent.  Fortunately, I didn't break my ankle joint itself.  I have an "avulsion fracture" on the outside of my ankle near that round, knobby bone that sticks out.  More than three weeks on and  it still hurts and the progress seems slow...but compared to the initial pain and swelling I am doing hunky-dory.  Despite all that, it was still worth it.  100% worth it.