After being out in the Wyoming backcountry almost every day for the past three months, I have acquired a number of stories that might be described as close encounters. Close encounters to getting the truck stuck at the end of the day, and close encounters with angry wildlife. So here is the account of things I’ve experience that, with any luck, will not get back to my mother.
Let’s begin with a list I made during my first few weeks of anticipated dangers in the Wyoming outback:
- Cow Mafia (cows constantly blocking the road and potentially stampeding the truck)
- Shot by Rancher (for accidentally walking on private land)
- Large Mammals – Bears, Mountain Lions, Wild Horses?
- Rattlesnakes
- Raptor Attack (while checking on nest sites)
- Truck Fire from built up cheat grass (that I cleaned out)
- Damage to internal organs from sketchy two-tracks
- H2S gas poisoning
To be fair, I haven’t experienced most of these. On the other hand, none of them are completely out of the question. Understanding the dangers to working in the field, I am thankful for the safety protocols and trainings put in place to keep interns and permanent employees safe, Such protocols have helped me remain unharmed throughout the summer, even during “close encounters”.
The journey of dangerous encounters begins with my beloved and young, but rather disheartened work truck. I was warned that buildup of cheat grass and other grasses from previous owners, or even just through the field season, has caused trucks to briefly catch on fire while driving down the highway. But the truck I was assigned gives all other trucks in this category a run for their money. After some brief mountain driving, my truck began to inch toward hotter temperatures, so I checked under the hood.
What I found was packed in, solidified cheat grass like no other. It was in the engine block, under the engine block, and in parts of the truck that I can’t name. After hours of pulling out cheat grass and mud one handful at a time, and after three very large snow shovel sized chunks of debris, the truck can be deemed drivable, but still really full of mud and plant debris. My truck may have been close to catching on fire, but such a disaster has been avoided and prevented for the future.
On another day in the field, at the end of a long day of mapping cheat grass, I stumbled upon a rattlesnake about 3 feet from my foot. We were equally surprised by each other. It coiled up, moved into striking pose, and rattled at me. Mind you, I was about 30 minutes of walking from the truck and 2 hours away from the nearest hospital. My field partner backed off and ran down the hill a few meters away. Luckily, I did not get bitten by a rattlesnake. And luckily, I was confident in my training and my partner’s training had the story gone differently.
On my own time, while exploring the Black Hills National Forest, I decided to camp in a dispersed area alone. Unfortunately, said area was unapproved by the residential mountain lion. As the sun was beginning to set, I heard an odd, repetitive noise about 300 feet away, over the hill. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, being in such a touristy area, I thought it was just from people. As late dusk approached, I heard the noise again. Only, this time, it was 30 feet from my tent, and definitely pacing, and I recognized the sound as a mountain lion. I lay still in my tent until it stopped growling, and my training for mountain lions kicked in despite my fear. I packed up all my stuff, flashed the horn of my car (which was a few meters away), and after scaring it off, I left my tent to sleep in my car.
Luckily, all of these instances, whether serious or minor, ended with unharmed interns and undamaged property. However, being in circumstances like these has made me (and probably, my mom) grateful for the safety precautions in place as I work daily in the wild Wyoming country. When close encounters have happy endings, they at least make for a good story, but stories that definitely don’t need to get back to my mother.