Quick View Itinerary

Distance: 31.8 miles, point to point

Time: 4 days, 3 nights

Difficulty: Moderately Difficult (3.5/5)

Highest Elevation: 9,162 ft

Ascent: 4,878 ft

Day 1: Glen Creek Trailhead (1K3) to Fawn Lake Campground (1F2). 5.6 miles, 935 ft ascent, max elevation 7,926 ft.
Day 2: Fawn Lake Campground (1F2) to Gallatin River Campground (WB1). 11.3 miles. 1,793 ft ascent, max elevation 9,162 ft (Fawn Pass).
Day 3: Gallatin River Campground (WB1) to Bighorn Pass Trail Campground (1B1). 14 miles, 2,126 ft ascent, max elevation 9,111 ft (Bighorn Pass).
Day 4: Bighorn Pass Campground (1B1) to Indian Creek Trailhead (1K5). About 1.5 miles, minimal ascent. Max elevation 7,402 ft.

Good to Know

Don’t forget to check the expiration date of your bear spray!

Be bear aware. Yellowstone is home to both Grizzly and Black bears. Carry bear spray, use an approved bear canister, and travel in groups when necessary. Check out the Yellowstone Bear Safety page for more info.
Yellowstone - Plan your Backcountry Visit
Route Planning. Although Yellowstone is one of the most popular parks in the country, planning out a backpacking trip can be tedious and slightly challenging. There aren’t any predetermined routes prescribed by the park, so you will need to calculate the distance of your days and select your campsites on your own. You can use their backcountry map to start, but unfortunately it doesn’t provide any topographic or elevation information. For ease of use and for your sanity I recommend an app like Gaia GPS or AllTrails to help more accurately plan out your route. You’ll want to plan out three possible routes you would like to take - more info on that in the next step.
Making Reservations. Once you’ve figured out your three routes, you’ll want to fill out the Backcountry Permit Application, print it, and mail it to the Central Backcountry office at the address below:

Backcountry Office
P.O. Box 168
Yellowstone National Park, WY 82190
307-344-2160 (phone)
307-344-2166 (fax)

Once your application has been received, the team at the office will review your requested routes and select one that is available based on demand from other applications. Yellowstone has strict regulations enforcing the amount of people in the backcountry. If there aren’t any open slots on the routes you selected, they will choose one for you.
This is a point to point hike, so make sure you either leave a vehicle at the ending trailhead, or plan on hitchhiking / hiking back to your starting point.

Day 1 - Glen Creek Trailhead to Fawn Lake Campground - 5.6 miles

We rolled out of our warm beds in Billings, Montana far too early, on a mission to hit the trail and commence our journey into the Yellowstone backcountry. This trip - our first leg on a two part backpacking trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons - was something that we had been planning for and looking forward to for months. Two days before our departure date I spotted a warning from the Grand Teton Park Headquarters: high levels of smoke were settling in the area, blown in from fires in California and Yellowstone. After a call to the offices of both parks to check out the situation on the ground, our trip was very much in doubt. Air quality indicators were at dangerous levels, and we would be venturing up into the high altitudes of both parks. Both areas issued warnings about going outside at all, and if you do go out, try to limit your physical activity. Both of these things are quite difficult to do when you’re outside backpacking through the mountains.

Over the next few days we monitored the environment, constantly checking social media, air quality measurements satellite images of the smoke plume, the status of the Yellowstone fire. For much of our lives, people my age - millennials - have had things pretty good. We have had to deal with less war, famine, disease, or any other misfortunes than any generation has before us. Resources have been plentiful, and technology has made life easier and activities more accessible than ever before. We have rarely had to deal with things like wildfires, which to some of us are inconveniences, or troubles a thousand miles away; but for many, they are the worst thing that has ever happened to them, and will ever happen to them. We’re facing our first true challenge as the new leaders of our world in human created climate change. Red skies in Portland, hazardous air in the Rockies, floods in Florida; humanity has put too much pressure on the natural world, and it’s fighting back. The responsibility for saving our planet now falls to the young people of the world.

At one point we were so in doubt of our trip that we agreed we should call off the original plan. But where to go instead? The entire Western part of the United States was covered in wildfire smoke. Dual hurricanes raged in the Southeast, likely another side effect of rampant human caused climate change. We thought of heading East. The Green Mountains of Vermont, the Adirondacks in New York, the White Mountains of New Hampshire called our names. But another specter loomed, also a possible side effect of the massive amount of humans glossing the planet - COVID. It seemed we were destined to stay home, which all things considered, wouldn’t have been the most terrible thing. We were lucky to have a home to go to, where we could shelter from these things.

One of the many “Somewhere in the middle of Nowhere” stops.

In the same way that most rash decisions are verified, we made the choice to go the night before over several strong beers. The air quality forecast looked like it might clear up, as did the smoke. We just might have a perfect window in which we could slot our trip. We rushed home in electric excitement and tension, packed our bags, and tried to get a few hours of sleep before our drive to Billings.

As often happens on road trips, the events of just a few days were lived as lifetimes. To us, it was years ago that we were planning our contingency trip to the Eastern US; now, we marveled at how lucky we had gotten. The skies were clear, the sun was shining, and we were ecstatic about the decision we had made. We entered Yellowstone on the North side of the park, already gaping at the dramatic scenery. We cruised past Mammoth Hot Springs and the throngs of tourists there - we would have time to stop at the popular attractions later. For now, we headed to Yellowstone’s more remote locations. Shockingly, only about 2% of people that visit Yellowstone venture off the main drag; and only about .01% that get off the beaten path go backpacking in the backcountry. That .01% is still a staggering number of people in a pristine wilderness environment, but generally, it means you get large swaths of the park to yourself.

We started our day at the Glen Creek Trailhead, along the Fawn Pass trail. The first part of our journey was over expansive, desert type prairies with massive brown mountains rolling in the background. Hot sun rays beat down on us as the grasshoppers chirped and leaped all around us, flying past our faces, landing on our clothes. Glen Creek gurgled alongside us the whole way, and the trail took us across the river on several occasions.

Eventually we started gaining elevation, and with it we gained trees. Each copse of trees we came upon seemed like it almost certainly harbored a bear, so we frequently shouted and sang silly songs.

The 5.6 mile hike went by quickly enough, and we arrived at our campsite at Fawn Lake. Beautiful orange prairie grassed stretched out to a pristine lake that was towered over by a mountain bristling with pine trees. We spent the rest of the day relaxing in the sun, playing cards, reading, napping, and listening to the calming noise of the creek just a few paces away. Day one of a backpacking trip always seems to be the most exhausting of them all. The driving, the early starts, the new physical tolls on your body, the stimulation of the natural environment - these things all lead to an early bedtime the first night of the trip. We retired to our tents early. Throughout the night we were awoken periodically during the night by angry thunderstorms churning above us.

Day 2 - Fawn Lake Campground to Gallatin River Campground - 11.3 miles

As we opened our eyes at Fawn Lake and crawled out of our tents, we were greeted by a dripping wet landscape, soaked by constant storms the night before. We welcomed the rain; more moisture meant less threat of wildfires. As I soaked in the view of the lake, I noticed a large brown spot on the opposite shoreline that looked like a boulder that wasn’t there the night before. Could that be a bear?, I thought to myself excitedly. I hurried to grab the binoculars, rushed back up the slope and raised them to my eyes. After several minutes of close study, we were able to determine that it was not a bear, but a large bull moose enjoying his breakfast in by the side of the lake. Being loud as humans sometimes are, his attention was focused on us. We went back about our morning routine, packed up our things, and hit the trail.

The first part of the trek was all uphill, through beautiful forested areas, mountain meadows, along pristine mountain streams. We stopped for lunch in Fawn Pass at 9,120 ft, an unnamed lake resting below us. The pass was key to our lunch location, as was the lake. As Thoreau said, “It is well to have some water in your neighborhood, to give buoyancy to and float the earth.” Unusually massive grasshoppers leaped everywhere, ripe for the picking of some lucky bird or other predator. We moved on, heading downhill now. Evidence of the 1988 wildfire surrounded us, and up ahead a mass of dark clouds loomed ominously. Thunder boomed across the mountains, and we knew we were in for a storm - not exactly what you want to encounter at 9,000 feet.

Our trail led us through a tree graveyard. We wandered through the dead forest, a forest that once teemed with life. All around us the husks of once great giants stood and laid in various states of destruction and decay. The obvious magnitude of the fire and the sounds of the ever nearing storm served as stark reminders of the power of nature, and how little it cares for our petty human plans.

From our vantage point high up in the mountains we could see our destination - the Gallatin River. The river wound through the valley, and it looked like an ideal place to spot wildlife. We couldn’t wait to get down there and get our camp setup.

By now, the storm that started off in the distance had moved in. We kept hiking until it was clear that it wouldn’t be safe to continue on. The sound of thunder followed the lighting immediately - the storm was directly above us. Our small group sheltered in a crop of tall trees, huddling up under our rain jackets, slightly spread out from each other to discourage potential grounding points. Hail began to fall, pelting us and adding to our misery. We began to discuss our next move. What would we do if the storm didn’t move on for hours? Do we camp here, or try to push on? Luckily, that was not something we had to deal with, and the storm moved on momentarily. We shouldered our packs and started back on the trail, intent to push through this last section of the hike as quickly as possible.

The rest of our day took us over rolling hills with hundreds of downed trees and massive wide open spaces, offering little to no protection if the storms were to return. As we reached our final turn and ascended the last hill, over the next mountain range we could see the rain moving slowly towards us. We donned our rain gear and high tailed it as fast as we could, but to no avail. The rain came down on us, leaving us with the sinking feeling that we would go to bed wet. Our fears proved unfounded; right as we arrived at camp, the rain stopped and the sun came out. We spent the remainder of our night cooking dinner, enjoying the scenery, and relaxing before we hit the sleeping bags.

Day 3 - Gallatin River to Bighorn Trail Campground - 14 miles

Our longest day yet faced us. For most people, about 10 miles is a good distance for a day of backpacking. It gives you plenty of time to enjoy the hike, stop for a nice lunch, and get to camp with plenty of time to setup and relax. It’s also a relatively challenging distance, so you feel good about what you accomplished that day. To me, every mile after that 10 mile mark gets me closer to the point of being ready to get that day over with. I enjoy a challenge as much as the next person, and love trying to push myself to achieve new things, but as a general guideline, I always try to keep backpacking days to about 10 miles, and if there are any longer days than that, make sure that they are followed by a much shorter day if possible. This day would be a mental and physical challenge, but the beauty of Yellowstone and the experience of living in that environment would make it worth it.

We awoke to ice covering our tents and the landscape. Our fingers and toes frozen, we broke down camp and wished that the sun would hurry up and rise above the mountains. A thick fog coated the valley ahead of us, giving us an eerie feeling and leaving us wondering if we would soon be surrounded by mist. The sun finally came up, and it both burned away the mist and warmed our frozen extremities.

Our first destination on the map would be Bighorn Pass, but we had no idea that the hike to that point would be the most stunning part of the entire trek. The frost that coated the plants was being melted off by the rising sun, and it came up in plumes of mist. The world took on an unreal quality as the sun rays shot through the layers of mist. The trail followed the Gallatin River the entire time. We slowly ascended towards the pass, going through areas of thick forest that looked like they could have fit in perfectly in the Pacific Northwest. Green moss coated the trees that dripped with morning dew. We cleared the treeline and stopped for a break to look back at where we had come from. The Gallatin had followed us up to this point, but here it was almost completely dried out.

We didn’t see another single person until we reached Bighorn pass on that third day. Rarely in my life have I experienced such solitude for so long. I always seek it out on our backcountry trips, but there are just too many people in the world to get that type of space for very long. The backcountry of Yellowstone is a very special place indeed.

As we set down our packs to enjoy lunch overlooking the Bighorn pass, the first two humans we would encounter that day came into view. Two horseman were making their way up the pass, and crested right about the same time we did. It was an older man and a teenager; a grandfather and grandson out for a horseback ride in Yellowstone. They sat down to enjoy the same view and lunch spot that we were soaking in. We got to talking a bit and learned that the older gentleman’s name was Bill, and that his ancestors had been living in the Gallatin mountain range for the last three generations. He grew up in Yellowstone, wandering its forests and mountains on foot and by horseback. We asked about the 1988 fire, and he regaled us with stories of it. He experienced it firsthand, and spent 56 days straight packing in supplies to the firefighters on the ground. Bill lamented the thinning of the elk herds after wolves were re-introduced to the park, and he recalled the days when going to the park dump to watch grizzly bears dig through the trash was a regular Friday night family outing. He taught us about the Bannock Native American tribe, who migrated each year through Bighorn Pass, and whom one of the peaks we could see were named for. We were riveted, fascinated to hear from a man who had watched the park evolve and change throughout the 20th century.

All good things must come to an end, and we started our descent down the trail. The terrain changed from mountain pass to pine forest to barren desert prairie in what seemed like the blink of an eye. The rest of the hike passed rather uneventfully. The sun was beating down mercilessly, so we all donned our long sleeve shirts and covered our necks with bandanas or buffs. Before we knew it we arrived at the Big Horn trail campsite, and 14 miles were in the books. We setup camp, took a dunk in the frigid Indian Creek, and settled in for our final night in the backcountry. Little did we know we were in for a big surprise that night.

After dinner we all walked down to the river to catch the sunset. On our way back to camp, we passed a group of young men on the trail. They were hiking out from the Indian Creek campground, without bear spray or headlamps. The sun was setting fast and the temps were rapidly dropping. We questioned their decision making, but didn’t think much more of it as we headed back to our campsite. They had acted a bit funny as they passed us, and we jokingly mused about what type of drugs they might be on. After our lighthearted jokes at their expense, we didn’t pass a second thought about the group.

Suddenly we heard the sound of footsteps pounding towards us on the trail, and one of the guys from the group came running up to our site panting. “We need help!” he said urgently as he doubled over, speaking between breaths. “Our friend is down there, he’s having a seizure, and we aren’t sure what to do!” Our crew exchanged glances, and then we jumped into action. We followed the messenger quite a ways down the trail to where their friend waited. En route to his location we did confirm that they had taken mushrooms several hours ago. Making decisions and evaluating a situation in the moment, especially in the wilderness where you don’t have access to the normal infrastructure that you would in civilization. For anyone that ventures out for backcountry trips, I would highly recommend taking the NOLS Wilderness First Aid course.

Once we reached their friend it was clear that there was some type of strange reaction to the drugs occurring. The patient was standing, but was unaware of his surroundings, was extremely off balance and at risk of hurting himself, and consistently dry heaving. A small trickle of blood ran down his mouth where he had bitten his lip. I ran up and started triaging the patient, instructing Jackie (a marathon and distance runner) to hightail it to the campground and alert a ranger. I asked Sarah to head back to camp and grab some antihistamines, in hopes that they might help reduce the severity of any type of allergic reaction his system might be triggering. I attempted to help the patient take a seat, but he was belligerent, refusing help from myself as well as from his friends. He was still incoherent, unsure of who he was or where he was. During the first aid courses everything flows so smoothly, so having a patient that refuses help is definitely something that throws you off your game. Regardless, his condition was improving slowly, and with his friends on each side of him, he was able to slowly make his way down the trail. We parted ways when we reached our campsite, hoping that his buddies would be able to take it from there. Jackie made her way back as it started to get dark, letting us know that she had alerted the camp host, and that they would be waiting for the group when they made it back.

After that excitement we were up later than we had been any of the other nights, and our bodies were weary from our full day. We climbed into our cozy sleeping bags and our heads hit the pillow, grateful for our health and happiness.

Day 4 - Bighorn Trail Campground to Indian Creek Trailhead ~ 1.5 miles

By design, our final day was a walk in the park. We awoke early in the morning to a herd of elk bugling across the river, and we watched them make their way through the prairie as the sun came up over the mountain. Breakfast was made slowly, coffee was enjoyed, tents were left up until well into the morning. Although we had a full day of touring Yellowstone from our vehicle, we weren’t quite ready to leave the backcountry and face the throngs of tourists that we knew would be waiting. We soaked in the sun, read peacefully, and discussed the highlights of the previous three days. Eventually it was time to go, so we packed up and headed out in high spirits.

On the way out we ran into the campground host that Jackie had talked with the previous night. She let us know that the young man had been transported to the nearest hospital in Livingston, an hour and a half away. It had taken almost four or five hours after the incident occurred for the guy who had the stroke to get to a hospital. It was a good, if somber, reminder of how extended medical timelines can be in a place like Yellowstone, and how important it is to be trained in what to do in that type of situation.

Yellowstone was an incredible experience for all of us. What started as an almost canceled roller coaster of uncertainty had morphed into one of the most magical backpacking treks of our lives. The solitude that we felt during our first days out there was something that we would carry with us as a memory for our entire lives, and the beauty of our wild places served as a critical reminder of what is at stake in our world. Many places that are much less well known than Yellowstone are in danger of being destroyed by our society’s never-ending greed for more. If only more people were able to get out and see what makes these places so important, maybe we would all realize how important our actions in the next few years will be.

— Daniel