Author: Mathew Brock

“Friday the 4th. The men at the camp wanted me to sleep in their big dark tent last night with it all closed up but it got to stuffy so I too [sic.] my bed y went outside y fought mosquitos the rest of the night.* Because those [?] have been very bad the last 2 days y nights. This morning I had breakfast y they also insisted on me taking a lunch along. Instead of following the river down to [?] as I first intended, I headed up Morrison Creek from 3 Forks R.S. where I obtained a roll of film from the ranger’s wife. I followed this creek up for 9-10 miles to a fork in the trail where there was a telephone on a tree y a fire chaser camp. Here I first intended to take the left hand trail over to [?] creek but after going along this a little it swung almost S.W. so I came back y tok the other one which was a new one y going N. this I followed for abt 2 miles then that swung clear around E. y then S up a large creek so I came back to the tel. y camped and tomorrow I will give the first trail a trial again. Perhaps it is only temporary that it goes so much S.W. If I don’t follow it I will cut across abt N.E. it came a thunder shower while I eat lunch at Crescent Creek so I fixed up some mosquito netting form y bed y tonight while cooking supper I had another thunder shower. I was walking barefoot for several miles this p.m. the trail soft as velvet underfoot from half decayed tree old y needles y moss. It has been a little cloudy most of the day so it had not been so very warm.** There was a heavy smoke over the mountains to the W. last night.

*Parsons encountered a trail crew working a stretch of the trail he was hiking the day before. They invited me to stay for dinner and the night with them.

**Parsons often hiked barefoot, in part because he liked the feeling the ground beneath his feet and also to save wear and tear on his boots.

“That old Porky came back close to camp again after dark y he was deeding on something y grunting until he woke me up.* Well this morning I followed the trail up to the divide, there I climbed a high point near by to look over the country. The creek across the pass flowed W y then S.W. so it was out of the question unless I followed down for a ways y then headed up another creek to N but to the N I could see a big valley which I was sure must be the S. F. of the Blackfoot. To make sure I went down to the pass after my pack then climbed up over a very rough spur of a peak y dropped down on top of the divide which I followed N for a couple miles. This was right at timberline y beautiful country. There was snow in places but it was solid y good going, there was lots of flowers: Buttercups, Ememenies [sic], some small very blue forget-me-nots, heather, white y purple y 3-4 others. It was difficult to tell the main divide as there was high peaks in all directions one range going north y S.E of the valley y another, the range I was on, going W.

Well I went down in that valley y had to fight brush, windfall y steep slopes for about 3 hours then a trail came down from an eastern tributary y followed down. Soon after I got a surprise where I found a sign which said Sun River Game Preserve.

So with all my careful planning I still was on the wrong river. It didn’t make very much difference as it also went N, but I thought I should be able to pick out my route even if I had only a poor map. I kept on going down until 4.30 when I found a nice location for a camp on a willow covered gravelbar. I had a bath y sunbath at noon y tonight I have been running around here stark nude for a couple hours.

I saw elk this p.m. I will follow along the creek down to the N.F. then up that one y across the divide again to Middle fork of Blackfoot which is a boundary of Glacier Park. That is not only the direct route to the park but also to supplies. I covered about 35-40 miles the last 2 days. This is one day again where I did not see anybody.

*The night before a porcupine (“Mr. Porky”) followed Parson down the trail and visited his camp.

“Yesterday morning I got over the summit shortly after I left camp. Then I came to a little meadow where an old trail followed the creek down to the NW y I came near going that way because the road went too far to the E to suit me, but finally I followed the road thinking it would most likely take me to Elliston. Well I came first to an old mine, then to several old placer diggings, then to another road that led up to a large mine called the Porphyry Dike Mine, then there was lots of roads branching off to other old mines, finally I came down to the town of Rimini, where I found out that I was still on the E side of the range. Finally after chasing around a while I collected enough information to find an old trail over the divide, this I followed up a very steep sloop to the top, from here I cut across for a while till I came to a place where somebody had started putting in a string of sluice boxes in a little creek, from here I found a trail down which came to a road and then down to the highway, past a large lime kilim and the shortly to town. Here I got some mail, but decided to stay over for today to wait for more, but expect to pull out tomorrow.”

“Thur 6/19 I felt much better yesterday morning so I hike merrily on, but it was cloudy y after a couple hours it started raining but I happened to pass an old deserted shack y stopped there while the worst got over then I hiked a few more miles but finally it got to raining hard again so as I just passed a little tow I dripped in to the restaurant y had a warm cup of coffee. While I was there a young lady came along driving a motorcycle, she was wearing boots, slicker coat y sou’wester y the rain had been beating in her face till she was al flushed. She stopped to die down her sidecar as it was bouncing too much, empty. I had a chat with her after I finished my coffee. She had been driving all the way from Philadelphia a few days before. She was the real thing, most self-sufficient young woman I had seen for a long time, she was one in a thousand that I liked right away, y I have been kicking myself for a silly ass never mind for not getting better acquainted or getting her name y address.”

A huge Thank You to the author Barney Mann, whos dogged detective work connected the dots between Pete Parsons rainy day encounter with Marguerite Lindsley. A year after her run-in with Parsons, Lindsley became the first permanent female Park Ranger at Yellowstone National Park. The National Park Service has a nice write up on Marguerite here.

“Tues 6/17 There was a couple elk [milling] around my camp this morning. I passed the Cliff in a short time also saw a couple good springs, then I cam to where the road cuts down through a beautiful rough, narrow gorge called the Golden Gate from there it was all down hill to Gardiner.

At the Springs I looked around a little y tok some pictures then hiked on down to G. Here I left 8 rolls of film at the drugstore also got a check by mail y some other mail, then I was fool enough to buy a lemonade at the [something] and it made me as sick as a dog so I found a secluded spot y put a finger down my throat y got rid of most of it, but I felt miserable as I dragged my self out of town, y as soon as I could find a place to camp I just laid down, but tonight I had to out y tickle my throat again y still I don’t feel right, but perhaps it will be better in the morning.”

Parsons doesn’t mention it in his journal, but we know from his photos that he visits and passes through the Golden Gate, the Silver Gate, stops off at the Devils Kitchen, and Canary Springs before crossing the border into Montana and stopping in Gardiner.

For those that are interested the Yellowstone Insider has some interesting history on the Devils Kitchen. They note,
“The Devil’s Kitchen is all but unknown in today’s Yellowstone National Park. Located east of Bath Lake in the [Mammoth Hot Springs area, the Devil’s Kitchen (for all its hellish imagery) was just a cavern—one regularly pumping out gases, of course. Further, it was itself the remains of a hot spring. What makes the Devil’s Kitchen interesting, in terms of Yellowstone history, is its uniqueness as a tourist attraction. In the early history of Yellowstone tourism, the Devil’s Kitchen was an interesting feature, despite featuring none of the hallmarks of a typical thermal attraction. It didn’t bubble, or pop, or flow, or cascade, or even hiccup. It wasn’t distinguished by its impressive colors.” Read more here.

“Today I have just been plodding along down the river crossing several large creeks, abt 9 am I got to the lake y have been following the trail along its east shore the rest of the day. I have seen 70-80 elk y moose, lots of ducks, geese y several pelicans. This evening I saw white smoke around a point so I thought there must be somebody living but where I got there it was some steam vents in the rocks. I cooked a pot of rice over the one that seems very hot y [something] slightly, but here is on quite large that roars quite loud.

There is a thumping sound underground like a steamengine then here is a lot of little hot springs y several boiling mud-holes. I may sleep here tonight if the wind dies down a little, it usually does. It is blowing right off the lake who is quite rough along this north shore. I wish I had some brown beans y bacon, I would have a nice big pot full by morning. I expect to get to the highway in a couple hours tomorrow.”

Parsons doesn’t mention it but he’s crossed over into Yellowstone National Park and the lake he hikes along is Yellowstone Lake. Reading his journal today it’s amazing to think of a time when you could hike through Yellowstone, cook a pot of rice over a steam vent, and camp just about anywhere you wanted to. The following day Parsons leaves the lake and hikes up the Yellowstone River to Yellowstone Falls.

6/11 I took the trail about 6 am. It was pretty wet going, I got up to the upper lake (2m) here y saw quite a number of ducks but I left them alone, from there I expected to have quite a climb to the pass so I was very surprised when the trail came near the creek after having left it for a short distance, to find that the water flowed north instead of south, I was going down towards Buffalo creek all ready, there was quite a lot of snow in the timber but I soon got down to an open grassy park, and here I nearly stumbled on an elk but he was too far away by the time I got my camera in action, but there also was a big, fat porcupine and I believe I got his picture although I had to take it on the run. After going down a little more I crossed the creek and began climbing up on to a lot of open park on the hillside here I first saw 1 elk laying down some distance away the I had close view and a picture of 4 bulls y later on I saw several more [unintelligible] y got another picture of 4 cows, so I have seen 8 today. Well, after a while I had another snowy slope down to Buffalo Creek. The [unintelligible] told me last night

that I could not cross the Buffalo without swimming, but after I had decided on the best place I stripped off and waded across, walking a little downstream y using a stick to steady me the water was very cold so after rubbing my legs good I crossed back then got my outfit and crossed the third time. Then I eat lunch before I started out again. From here I expected to find another trail branching off to 2 Ocean Pass y if I didn’t find it I would first follow the creek down to where the Highway crosses. Well, I didn’t find the Trail ( I expect I should have gone upstream a ways instead) it was interesting country unspoiled by civilization y I saw elk … y than in some places the river runs through a narrow, rough gorge. The main trail crossed the [something] a couple times, but as it was to big to ford here safely I managed to get along on the N side by climbing around the cliffs a couple of times finally I cam out on high bench-land covered thickly with LP Pine. Here I lost the trail but followed elk trails for a while but where I saw the rive again I could hardly

figure out which direction it was flowing. but I decided it must be Soda Creek coming down to it and it joined the river in a very peculiar manner.

Well, after crossing the creek I found the trail so I thought I might as well camp especially as I got m pants wet in crossing. Well, it has been rather wet y hard going, but I have seen the Elk in their natural surroundings and native haunts y I have enjoyed it very much, I only wish I had found that trail today. I saw several grouses [unintelligible] y a number of new flowers as I have been walking along I have been comparing the country with Alaska it is very much the same thing at this time of the year. It is getting more pleasant weather for camping out. This morning at 4.30 it was warm enough so I could strip off and take a good rub down before dressing.

7 pm. Just now I heard some elk bugle y I can see 5 across the river with 2 calves. There also is a couple grouse drumming nearby. Jeh, I hate to go back to the highway.”

As noted before, Parsons is in Dubois, Wyoming, waiting out the weather. While there he finds work installing electrical wiring in cabins. It continues to snow on and off over the next thirteen days. Although his journal is blank between May 29 and June 10, his photo albums show that on June 8 he attends a round-up of wild horses. His only images from his time in Dubois are labeled “Roughriding in Dubois.”

Over the previous days, Parsons traveled across Wyoming, from Fort Steele to Dubois. In general, he found it mostly flat and “uninteresting.” In some cases he traveled along existing roads and from time to time was picked up by a passing motorist. On the 28th, he got a ride and covered 65 miles between Lander and Circle. In Lander, Wy, he stops to buy groceries and mentions buying a copy of Outdoor Life magazine, “in which I found a brief description y a few pictures of my last year’s trip.” If you are reading this, and happen to have a copy of the April or May 1924 issue of Outdoor Life magazine, we’d love to see Parsons article!

“This has been my longest days travel because I rode abt 65 miles. At first, it was raining quite hard last night y my fly was leaking some too, but I managed to keep my bedding dry anyway. The snow was way done in the hills this a.m. y it was [illegible] a little of and to after. I got on my road, then after a few miles I got a ride with a fellow from Lander all the way to Circle, it was through a rather uninteresting section of the country except perhaps a little along the Little Wind River. Then from Circle I started walking up to Dubois but after a couple miles it started hailing and raining which gradually turned to heavy snow. I put my tent over my back and kept on, but finally I almost had made up my mind to try to find an empty shack at one of the ranches but by this time a couple fellows overtook me in a car y gave me a lift. The car was skidding y sliding all over the road y one man had to keep wiping the windshield continually but we finally got into town.

Here I tried to find an empty cabin, but finally took a room at a hotel, also I had made up my mind to try to find a job y stay over until the weather to better. I finally got an offer of some work from one of the storekeepers who is also a rancher owner y banker.”

Over the past couple of days Parsons has made his way out of Colorado and into Wyoming. Between the 19th and the 21st, he hikes across the Medicine Bow mountains. On the 20th he notes, “Well, Saturday night I camped at the head of the Fall River, which drains into the Mississippi, last night I camped at the head of the Colorado River y tonight at the head of the Michigan Creek who runs into the Platte y then on to the Mississippi, so I actually crossed the divide twice although I have been going west the last 2 days.” By the 20th he’s out of the mountains and deep into the Platte River valley, “rather boring sagebrush country, nothing much of interest.”

On the 22nd he wrote “I hiked all the 20 miles to Saratoga today, arrived there at 12. There I bought a few supplies and struck out again, the road followed the Platte River which flows north y as I was looking on the river I said to my self, why not tie a raft together y travel by water for a ways. So I went down along the riverbank looking for some logs y collected some fence wire from an old fence.” The next day he floats the North Platt River almost all the way to Fort Steel, Wyoming, roughly 40 miles. The next morning he watches antelope from camp before hitting the trail again.

It was not uncommon for Parsons to build a watercraft on the fly and make use of it. Sadly, his collection does not contain a photograph of the raft he built and floated on the Platte River.

Look for a future post that explores his fascination with watercraft and showcases several of the boats he built over the years.