Working for L.D. Frome, Wyoming outfitter, in the summer of 1971, we were on a twelve day pack trip through Yellowstone. There were 20 guests, 10 of us on the crew, 30 saddle horses, 30 pack animals and five spare horses. We had embarked on August 23rd at the South Entrance, then rode east by Heart Lake, Fox Park, through the Yellowstone Meadow at the foot of Hawk's Rest, and were planning to go up Woodard Canyon to Crater Lake. A few days of drizzle had changed our route, so we were going to come out at base camp at the mouth of Box Creek on Turpin Meadow by a shorter route. Our last camp on the evening of September 1st, was on Trail Creek.
It was a beautiful summer afternoon, and we had a baseball game out on a meadow. Storm clouds were brewing, and soon lightning was cracking. This was the most ferocious lightning storm I've ever been in throughout my whole life. We ran for the shelter of the "kitchen fly" and our sleeping tents as rain started to pour. It rained hard all evening, and after a soggy supper we all turned in early. Rain came down for part of the night before it turned to snow. By the next morning there was a foot of wet snow all over everything and it snowed hard all day.
Suffice it to say, it was a fairly miserable trip on to the road. First we saddled all the dude horses and sent the twenty guests on ahead, with two of the crew going along. After we packed up all the duffle, four more of the crew headed out with the gear belonging to the guests. The remaining four of us packed all the kitchen supplies and were the last to arrive at base camp. It was late afternoon by then, and though we had fairly appropriate clothing for the occasion, we were soaked and shivering as we rode down the trail. My hands and feet were sure cold, and I was one of the few that had brought along overshoes for this "summer" pack trip. The overshoes were brought along because when you are catching horses in the early morning on a mountain meadow, the dew in the tall grass will get you soaked clear to your knees.
I stayed through hunting season, which ended October 31st. The temperature got a lot colder later in the fall, but the coldest I got the whole season was on this September 2nd ride. Damp cold chills you to the bone way more than dry cold.