Broughton Coburn & Phoebe Thunder of Wilson, Wyoming
The first time I heard Brot’s voice was through my phone’s speaker as we listened to a voicemail he left while Mamie and I were out hiking in Grand Teton National Park.
The voicemail was earnest and detailed. He walked us through his favorite camping sites in the area — making particular note of a spot along the Snake River that he loved. He then advised us on preferred travel routes — noting when to avoid certain roads to avoid traffic snarls. And he beseeched us to call him if there was absolutely anything we needed, going so far as to offer his backyard as a potential campsite if we struck out finding one amidst the madness that is high season in the Tetons.
As luck would have it, Brot’s offer was a godsend — as we’d soon discover that every campsite in the Park had been claimed by the time we were off the trail. These were the waning days of summer vacation and we were caught amidst the crush of families squeezing in one last trip before the kids headed back to school.
We arrived at Brot’s doorstep in the dark of night, bleary-eyed and exhausted after a long day of hiking and driving. He handed us a warm cup of tea and we all laughed at how devilishly accurate his advice had been.
Brot made us feel at home instantly. We spent the remainder of the night seated in his kitchen, sharing stories from the road, learning about the Tetons, and delving into Brot’s extensive career in Nepal and the Himalayas where he lived and worked for decades, first as a member of the Peace Corps, and subsequently as an author, environmentalist, and humanitarian.
When it finally came time for bed, Brot introduced us to our accommodations for the night — what he jokingly referred to as the shackteau: an uninsulated, freestanding structure with dirt floors and Tibetan prayer flags hanging from the rafters. It housed a mattress, Himalayan artwork and a single lamp. We couldn’t have imagined a more fitting place to rest our heads while visiting this capital of American mountaineering.
The following morning, we shared a hearty breakfast and a pot of black coffee. As soon as the plates were cleared, the kitchen counter was covered in maps that Brot and his daughter Phoebe used to devise our route up through the western side of the Tetons and into Yellowstone from Idaho. Phoebe — every bit her father’s daughter — was the driving force behind many of the bold decisions being made. She too held strong opinions about campsites, hiking trails, and the preferred evasive maneuvers to avoid tourist hotspots.
As we said our goodbyes and prepared to hit the road, Brot ushered out a loud aha as he hurriedly rushed us into his study. He quickly located what he was looking for: a priority envelope stuffed to the gills with maps, trail guides and most importantly, his personal copy of the National Geographic issue devoted entirely to Yellowstone in honor of the National Park Service’s centennial anniversary. “Just mail it back when you’re done,” he said. “The postage is already paid for.”
While camping in Yellowstone at the very campsite Brot and Phoebe recommended, I devoured the issue cover-to-cover, my love of the park growing with every turn of the page. In retrospect, I can’t imagine having visited Yellowstone without having read it, and I owe Brot my deepest gratitude for being so thoughtful as to lend me his copy.
Thank you Brot and Phoebe for everything: the advice, the tea, the company. Our trip to the Tetons and Yellowstone wouldn’t have been nearly as special without your guidance, reading material, and enormous hospitality.
Brot Coburn is a New York Times best-selling author and expert on the Himalayas. You can explore many of his titles here.
