Guide to Yellowstone and Grand Teton

One of the most alarming developments in the Rockies this summer is that the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) has begun looking to the possibility of issuing permits for geothermal energy development. As the one of the most active geothermal hotspots on the planet, the area around Yellowstone would be a prime target. Such plans are nothing new, and were it not for the efforts of many judicious and preservation-minded individuals throughout the past 130 years, the mighty Yellowstone River would probably be dammed today and Old Faithful little more than a factory to convert steam into electricity. Indeed, one railroad executive in the park’s early days went as far as to propose that an electric railway be built in the park, to be powered by Upper and Lower falls on the Yellowstone River.

Is it possible that hydrothermal plants could be built safely and effectively on lands bordering the park? Perhaps, but how often do development plans like this go off without a hitch? Given the incredibly unpredictable nature of the plumbing underneath Yellowstone, tapping into the geothermal underpinnings could have literally catastrophic results, and once you get the ball rolling there’s no way to turn things around.

Anyone who’s visited Solitary Geyser on Geyser Hill above Old Faithful knows how even a small change can effect the park’s geothermal features. Henry Brothers, an early park entrepreneur, built the Brothers Bathhouse and Plunge by the Old Faithful Inn using thermal water from Solitary Geyser to fill a large swimming pool and a half-dozen smaller tubs. But once he tapped it, what was once a calm hot spring began erupting, and even though both the pipeline and pools are long gone, the geyser continues to erupt every few minutes. Now imagine an energy operation on a scale at least a hundred times larger, and virtually anything could happen. Old Faithful could go dormant, or it could blow through completely. Gem-like springs could run dry, while new hotspots could break through the ground elsewhere. There’s no good way of telling what might happen, which is reason enough to leave things alone at the world’s first national park.

Head here for a more in-depth look at this issue on the always fascinating National Parks Traveler.

A quick post to let readers know I’ve added a Books section to this site, with my picks for the finest books to Yellowstone, Grand Teton and around. There’s been a wealth of books written covering the region, from recent history to its geological beginnings, and those highlighted are well worth checking out before, during or after a visit. I have short stack of books waiting to be read as well, so check back for updates – and, of course, let me know if you have a book or two that deserves to be added.

How did Yellowstone get its name? Head over to the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, and you’re bound to hear a visitor explain that the park was named after the golden rocks lining the canyon walls. Indeed, a popular IMAX movie on Yellowstone states the same idea. That’s not the case, however, as the following aside – cut from the Guide’s color introduction at the last minute due to space constraints – explains.

It may make for the most popular explanation, but the name Yellowstone doesn’t derive from the yellowish tint on the rocks within the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. Indeed, the name doesn’t stem from anything inside the park’s boundaries, but from the area around the eponymous river hundreds of miles downstream in eastern Montana. Here, close to where the Yellowstone River meets the Missouri along the Montana/North Dakota border, French fur trappers in the late 1700s asked the local Minnetaree tribe for the river’s name. They answered Mi tse a-da zi, meaning “River of Yellow Rock” – a name coming, it’s thought, from the color of the low-lying banks along the Missouri nearby. Converting from the French translation of Roche Jaune, Welsh mapmaker and explorer David Thompson of the Hudson Bay Company was the first to document the river “Yellow Stone” on a map in 1797, a name that soon gave way to the shorter Yellowstone. Incidentally, the Crows that lived closer to the modern day boundaries of Yellowstone when whites arrived called the river E-chee-dick-karsh-ah-shay, meaning Elk River, a more apt name for the river in the park as it forms part of migratory path for elk from their summer range high on the Yellowstone plateau to lower grounds come winter.