At Lander Wyoming’s Sinks Canyon, it only costs 25 cents to turn a natural and biological wonder into a carnival side show. When I first stepped out on the observation deck overlooking the natural rise of the Popo Agie river out of the canyon floor, I saw a crystal clear pool absolutely teaming with dark, silvery fish who, even from 40 feet above the water, were clearly massive. They were all nearly still, nose pointed into the current, an occasional twitch of the tale keeping them in place. I was awed by the sight, dozens of massive fish floating aimlessly must mean life is pretty good here, a veritable trout heaven.
I was accepting the natural abundance of the pool being another mysterious result of the disappearing river, when three young children came running down the deck, and the smallest boy flung a handful of brown pellets over the railing and into the water below. The pool erupted in a Shark Week-esque fish frenzy over the brown chunks of kibbles and kelp. The boys sisters proceeded to throw their handfuls of fishfood piece by piece, startling individual groups of fish into a fight for their dinner. So it wasn’t the river that was feeding the fish, it was us.
These fish have made their home in Sinks Canyon, named for its naturally occurring sink, a cave where the thundering Popo Agie river simply disappears into the ground to emerge about a 1/4 of a mile later in the still, clear pool with clear water and a sandy bottom called the rise. The sink itself is a fascinating natural mystery, and the park service has taken great care in making it an interesting and informative site to see. The disembodied voice of an interactive sign explains why this pool is a natural habitat for rainbow and cutthroat trout, because of the current, temperature, clarity, and that it promises a year round food source.
What the voice fails to mention is that year round food source is fish food, bought for a quarter a handful by tourists and rained down upon the fish from dawn till dusk. Where this much food for my childhood goldfish led to their early demise, so much food for so little work for these trout has made them huge, slow, and dependent.
Observing the unique natural habitat created by this unexplained hydro-phenomenon promised to be a rare glimpse into the untouched wild, like meeting the residents of a place that could not be understood, let alone recreated, by human hand. Instead, I had a flashback to a trip to the aquarium where a dull boy is pounding on the glass, asking why the fish won’t move. When nature is not high-octane enough, we manipulate it to make it more interesting, but at what cost? Today we’ve turned a unique geological eco-system into a Sea World exhibit, and destroyed a little bit more of the Old West, John Wayne, Cowboy Country Wild that we all hunger for from time to time.
Though the river and the canyon outside of Lander still hold onto their breathtaking beauty, I don’t think there is much we can do to restore the wild that’s been lost. I found it strange that other visitors didn’t seem to notice the farce in what we had come to see. The voice is clear that the pool is not stocked, but as long as the fishfood vending machine is, they won’t have to.
Butt Naked Travels 