Investigating Idaho

When one thinks of vast areas of wilderness, meandering mountain rivers bordered by steep canyon walls , sweeping vistas over broad lakes and peaks soaring to twelve thousand feet, Idaho is probably not the state that first comes to mind.  But it has all of that in an area a little larger than New England.  Chris and Jay wanted to investigate this diverse state to see if it was a place they might want to live since their friends, Jean and Dale Shelton had recently purchased a house in Coeur d’Alene, a large city (for Idaho), situated at the north side of the substantial Lake of the same name. 

Their introduction to the State was via the Pend Oreille Scenic Byway, which they picked up a little south of Polson, MT, and wound through scenic mountains to their destination at the lakeside town of Sandpoint.  Although they drove during a cool, damp day, in early October, the clouds hugging the mountain tops and the Clark Fork River meandering close alongside them provided natural eye candy that kept them occupied all day.

They stayed only a few days and wandered down the streets of the small town but found that most of the mountainous land bordering the lake was either State or Federal property and much of the land that was not had houses on it in closer proximity to one another than they were interested. 

Next stop was Coeur d’Alene where they spent an entire day driving the coastal areas of the lake seeking that perfect spot for a home:  A place that was high off the water, faced south with a mountain view and enough land to not see inside the neighbors’ windows.  Surprisingly they found some property that almost fit the bill.  Phone calls to inquire about prices, utilities and how to get adequate water to the lot told them that the cost of housing in that part of the country was not as depressed as they’d hoped – not by a long shot.  The information was filed away for future reference.

The view of Lake Coeur d’Alene from the lot they found.

Curiosity compelled them to seek out the future home of their friends and they continued their late afternoon drive to the west side of the lake and the new Shelton residence.  The house sits, amongst other upscale homes, atop a high hill overlooking the lake.  Chris and Jay liked the contemporary style and beautiful stonework surrounding the base.  Jay immediately called Jean and she shared the improvements they wanted to make to the house and that they were looking forward to the “big move” from Maryland in the spring.

The Shelton’s new home.

As they progressed south to Lewiston the scenery changed from pine covered mountains and glistening lakes to the eastern most terrain of the Palouse, a land of gently rolling hills covered in grain.  In harvesting the wheat fields and preparing them for future plantings, farmers had created flowing geometric patterns of gold contrasting with rich, dark earth tones of freshly tilled soil.  Chris longed to view the beauty of the abstract creations from aloft imagining the interesting photos they would make.

The earth tone patterns of the Palouse.

The steep descent of the last few miles to Lewiston was a surprise until they learned that the town was a mere 710 feet above sea level.  Lewiston, and its sister city Clarkston, sit on opposite shores of the Clearwater River at its confluence with the Snake River where the Lewis and Clark Corps of Discovery camped in 1805.  The area is also known as the gateway to Hells Canyon, North America’s deepest river gorge spanning ten miles and almost 8,000 feet deep.  The travelers set up the RV in the lovely, green, shaded campground of the Hells Gate State Park and planned their discoveries over the next few days of their visit.

The local Nez Perce museum featured interesting information about the tribe and its part in assisting the Lewis and Clark expedition along the Snake River.  Another exhibit detailed the events of the Indian War of 1877.  Gold had been discovered on Nez Perce land and ranchers wanted the open range for their cattle resulting in changes to an 1863 treaty limiting further the Nez Perce’s reservation lands.  Several “non-treaty” bands were ordered to move to the reservation within an impossible 30 day timeline and at a bad time of year for the hundreds of horses they possessed to cross the swollen springtime rivers.  The Indians that did lost over half of their herds.  A band of discontents attacked nearby settlers and 800 of the tribe, led by Chief Joseph, fled east with the military in hot pursuit.  They trekked through Idaho, across Lolo Pass (the same route that Lewis and Clark had taken in their push west) and eventually into eastern Montana before the toll of lost supplies and need of rest forced them to stop at Bear Paw Mountain, just forty miles from the Canadian border.  The U. S. military caught up with them and the resulting five-day battle ended the war.   At his surrender, Chief Joseph said “I fight no more forever”.  The story confirmed Chris and Jay’s feelings that so many of the conflicts with Indians were caused by the white man’s greed and injustices and their hearts went out to the proud people whose simple way of life was obliterated within a few generations.

In viewing photographs of the Nez Perce, in the 1800s, Chris noticed that none had the nose piercings for which they were named.  A query to a museum staff member revealed that there was only one member of a tribe that had the piercing, which was common to Chinook tribes along the Columbia River, but the early French trader name stuck.  The Nez Perce refer to themselves as Nimiipu or “The People”. 

Pumpkin decorating by some of the local children who attended a street fair.

While attending a local street fair, Chris and Jay heard about a Pow Wow to be held the next day at the Nez Perce casino just outside of town.  They arrived at noon in time for the opening ceremony and found seats on bleachers at the far end of the event tent while gawking at the gorgeous ceremonial dress of hundreds of tribal members.  The variety of color and style was endless as many different tribes of the region were represented and each displayed their own traditional design.   At the opposite end of the tent stood a raised podium flanked by several 4’ diameter drums made from stretched hides and surrounded by a half dozen men all beating and singing in unison.  Before the podium spread a spacious, open floor, onto which the procession of color spilled, headed by their chiefs wearing full, eagle feather war bonnets and traditional dress.  All danced the tap-step, tap-step Intertribal Dance in time to the amplified pounding of the huge drums.  The beat penetrated every fiber of the visitor’s beings and they understood how it motivated the Indians to participate in the centuries old rituals. 

An idea of the colors and diversity of costumes.

A participant stands during the opening prayer.

The afternoon being the last before their departure, they continued their search for the Lewis and Clark Center which they had read about but had not been able to find specific directions to its location.   Chris solved the puzzlement and, bundled up against the chilling wind, they hustled across the exposed overpass leading from the obscure parking area on the edge of town, to the even more obscure point on the eastern shore of the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater Rivers.  

They were greeted by the beautiful, Tsceminicum bronze sculpture which depicts Nez Perce myths and legends.   The name means “the meeting of the waters” and consists of an Indian woman, depicting Earth Mother, from whose hands water flows into a small depression (representing the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater Rivers).  Behind her stretches an irregularly shaped bronze wall displaying intricate reliefs of wilderness scenes with all manner of wildlife from heron and geese to bear, cougar and moose.  A coyote, a prominent figure in many Indian legends, stretches over the rear ridge in a playful, tongue wagging pose.

Tsceminicum statue.

 

A detail exhibiting the intricacy of the scenes on both sides of the bronze wall.

Information panels in the Center explained aspects of the Lewis and Clark expedition and repeated what Chris had recently read in a Sacagawea biography, but she still wondered exactly where Lewis and Clark had camped when passing through the area.  She finally found a stone plaque which explained the site was on the opposite shore.

The “canyon” in the Lewiston area left Chris and Jay, shall we say, uninspired?  So, they decided to head south a short distance to the tiny town of White Bird for a better experience of the renowned geologic feature.

In a town of less than 200 residents the business people wear more than one hat as Chris and Jay learned when they arrived at the RV Park they had chosen.  The well-kept facility had only 10 RV sites, but the grounds also contained a motel of six rooms and the office of a jet boat Hells Canyon tour service. 

The canyon was about an hour’s drive over the hills to the west and they followed the serpertine road along the autumn gold slopes of ever steepening inclines.  Their progress slowed to a crawl as Chris hopped out time after time to capture the uniqueness of the visions before her.  Finally through the forested uppermost heights, they navigated down a series of hairpin turns to their destination – a small Park on the Snake River.

The canyon walls were not as steep as they’d expected but the Park seemed to be mainly an area for boaters of all kinds to put in or take out their vessels, be they for fishing or kayaking the scenic river.  They decided that a less hostile terrain was needed for such a service.

This group of kayakers is picked up to be transported back upriver.

As they explored the area it did have some redeeming qualities which made their trip worthwhile.  First was their discovery of a snake crossing the road.  Jay immediately stopped the truck and leapt out, to bar the reptile’s advance to grassy shelter, while Chris grabbed the camera to document the creature for identification.  You see the more photos they have of the creatures Jay so loves, the more appeased he is and the temptation to smuggle one into the trailer as a pet is quelled – much to Chris’ relief as she prefers the warm fuzzy kind.

Jay cornering what turned out to be a Northern Pine Snake.

They moved on to an area of ancient, Indian Petroglyphs and walked the short trail around the black stones scarred with abstract scratchings.   A short drive further brought them to an area that epitomized their vision of what a place named Hells Canyon should look like.  The river wound between massive mountains that dropped straight into the water and reflected the warm afternoon sun’s amber glow onto the liquid’s almost glassy surface, randomly marred by the roiling depths as it sped along its course.

The wild and rugged Hells Canyon.

The ride home held an unexpected surprise.  Jay thought he’d died and gone to heaven when he spied a camouflage attired man in the middle of the road using a long object to hold a rattlesnake at bay.  Jay couldn’t exit the truck fast enough to drink in this reptilian thrill.  The snake struck at the man a couple of times before Chris and Jay got to them, then feeling cornered, it coiled up, rattled and lay still, posing perfectly for Chris’ lens.

Just a few minutes before, the man had passed Chris and Jay on his ATV and sped on ahead.  He spied the rattler crossing the road and stopped to apprehend it for a tasty dinner but waited until they arrived in case they were interested in seeing his treasure.   Chris protested his dinner plans until he explained that it means there is one less venomous foe that would potentially cause him deadly harm when medical assistance is well more than an hour away.  He also mentioned he’d heard other rattles in the nearby grasses; an indication that the species is prolific in the area.  Jay also was disheartened at the news and they left understanding the man’s reasoning, but upset at the demise of the creature.

A Western Rattlesnake.

The sun was falling fast and they had yet to visit the White Bird Battlefield, the site of the first battle of the Indian Wars of 1877.  After the Lewiston attack, about 800 Nez Perce had crossed the Camas Prairie and were camped along White Bird creek at the base of a long, sloping canyon.  On June 17^th, one hundred six cavalry and eleven volunteers spotted the encampment and sent an eight man scouting party ahead which encountered a small Indian peace party approaching with a white flag.  A volunteer fired a shot and any hope of a peaceful solution evaporated.  The scouting party’s trumpeter was killed early in the battle and the officer in charge could not communicate with his men giving the Nez Perce an advantage.    The cavalry’s main body attempted a stand against the advancing foes but after a thirty minute battle, and thirty-four soldiers dead, retreated back over the Camas Prairie with the Nimiipuu in pursuit.  Suffering only three wounded, the battle was a victory for the Nez Perce, but they lost the war when Chief Joseph surrendered on October 5, 1877 after the Bear Paw Mountain battle.  Because of their defiance they were exiled to Oklahoma and later to the Colville Reservation in Washington, and never did return to their homeland. 

The Cavalry’s viewpoint of the White Bird battleground. 

White Bird Creek is along the tree line. 

Imagine being a soldier and seeing Indians, intent on protecting their families, advancing toward you.

The White Bird Battlefield is one of thirty-eight sites that make up the Nez Perce National Historical Park and part of the Nez Perce National Historical Trail which follows the route the non-treaty Nimiipuu took during the 1877 war.  Go to this link to view a map of their route and locations of the battles.

Satisfied with their experience at White Bird, on October, 19^th Jay and Chris headed further south to the  lakeside town of McCall, a popular boating and skiing destination for Boise residents.  The RV Park proprietor explained that wildlife was abundant in the area and to let someone know where they were headed if exploring remote areas.  The critters were so abundant that a large black bear frequented the park dumpster.  At 2 a.m. that night Chris heard a loud, metallic bang and woke Jay.  He decided the best way to see the supposedly six hundred pound Ursus was to hit the lock button on Big Red’s keychain and illuminate the lights on the truck from inside the RV.  One flash and the bear was gone but two red fox, with bushy, bottle brush tails the size of Chris’ thigh momentarily froze before bounding beyond the nearby hedge.  The visitors later learned that the bear, with foxes close behind, had continued his rounds as dumpsters all through town had been hit that night.

McCall’s town beach and view of Payette Lake.

Most of Chris and Jay’s time in McCall was spent driving through the area to see if it fit their vision.  They learned it had a decent ski resort within minutes of town – check.  Payette Lake made for good canoeing and the Ponderosa State Park, which bordered it, teemed with hiking and cross-country ski trails – check.  Although not as tall as they would like, the area had some scenic mountains – check.  Most of the businesses in town were geared toward tourists but the stores seemed large enough to provide most of their grocery, hardware and other day to day needs – check.   As much as they wanted to be in an area of abundant winter outdoor activities, they were a little apprehensive of the length of the season when they were cautioned that snow could come any day and the average winter temperature history was ten degrees below their comfort zone.  Perhaps finding a place where they could drive an hour or so to a higher elevation to ski might be more suitable.  McCall was still on the list, but not at the top.

Anxious to be further south before the white, fluffy stuff began to fall, they departed on Saturday, November 22^nd for the largest town they’d visited since Salt Lake City in July – Boise Idaho.  Besides free, the Gowan Field, Air National Guard base campground was the best deal yet.  It had only ten sites but cost only ten dollars a night for a full, 50 amp hookup.  Score!!  What was originally going to be a few day stopover turned into almost two weeks of warm, fall weather and days spent shopping, resupplying and exploring before they had to be in Salt Lake City where Jay would fly to the annual Pterodactyl Roost held, that year, in Mobile, AL.

The World Center for Birds of Prey sits on a scenic hilltop south of Boise.  The 580 acres houses the business offices of the Peregrine Fund, breeding facilities for endangered birds of prey, an interpretive center and research library.  A feisty ex-Marine volunteer led Chris and Jay through the facility while spewing forth items of interest about the mission of the organization, the variety of tasks it undertakes, explaining items in the interpretive center and showing off the collection of live, exotic birds they care for.  The Center is not a rehabilitation facility for injured birds.  Their main purpose is to breed bird of prey species on the U.S. Endangered Species List and reintroduce them to the wild. 

This Peregrine Falcon is blind and cannot be released into the wild.

It all began in 1970 when two schoolboys sent their lunch money to Tom Cade at Cornell University to help him save the endangered Peregrine Falcon from extinction.  Cade created The Peregrine Fund and eventually released more than 4,000 falcons into the wild.  Today they can be spotted not only throughout the western plains, but atop buildings in New York City where they feed on pigeons.  Currently they have recovery programs for the California Condor and Aplomado Falcon.  The Center also has liaisons with others worldwide and has been instrumental in the recovery efforts of 90 different raptor species.

Their education birds cannot be released into the wild due to injuries or other problems, so they are on display for visitors to view them up close and personal.  The most unusual bird Chris and Jay had ever seen was a Harpy Eagle.  Found in Central and South America, its soft, gray face is almost owl-like until it raises a cluster of darker feathers at the back of its head that look like an awkwardly shaped crown.   Other exotic eagles were the orange faced, Bateleur, from Africa and the white, brown and gray, Ornate Hawk-Eagle from Central and South America. 

One might want to name this Harpy Eagle “Harpo” due to its funny appearance.

An attack by it would not be very funny as its beak and Grizzly sized claws would tear you apart.

It is virtually impossible for Jay to pass by a museum of military artifacts and an afternoon at the Military Museum on Gowan Field was imperative.   Both Jay and Chris were impressed with the items on display as they had never encountered some at any other museum!   The building contained relics from the Civil War through Vietnam in amazingly pristine condition.  One item was a Civil War Surgeon’s Amputation kit which looked as if it had never been used.  All of the implements were unblemished and filled their respective positions in the immaculate wooden case.  

A Civil War Amputation Kit.

Something they had never heard of was a Gun Camera Mark VI Mod2 used to train Navy aerial gunners during World War II.  When the trigger was pulled, it shot 16mm film instead of bullets and the film review showed exactly where the bullets would have gone had they been firing a real gun.  The film even recorded the time to the split second in case there was a dispute as to who got “the hit” first.

The summer before Chris had photographed a collection of her grandfather’s WWI military possessions at the Minnesota Historical Society.   Familiar with the condition of items of that age, she was entranced with the quality of WWI uniforms and equipment the museum owned.  She recognized a tin condiment can just like her grandfather’s and a compass that looked like it had just been issued.  A mannequin was clothed in the complete uniform of the day including haversack, ammunition belt, blanket, trenching shovel, bayonet and more in perfect condition.   They even had a periscope that had been used in the trenches to spy on “no man’s land” without jeopardizing the soldier’s life.

A World War II haversack with the museum in the background

The warm, sunny days of the early part of their visit were fast becoming cloudy, windy and cold and when the date of their Salt Lake City reservation approached, Chris and Jay were eager to head south.   The only problem was packages that Jay had expected to arrive on September 3^rd were scheduled to be delivered on September 4^th, the day of their departure.  The woman at the Billeting office assured them that UPS delivered before 11 a.m.  and she would call when they arrived.  You know the saying, “The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry”.  Eleven o’clock came and went and with forecasts of snow, the anxious travelers were concerned about the safety of embarking on the 300 mile journey that lay before them.  By noon they’d decided they could not wait any longer if they wanted to reach Salt Lake City before dark and took off.  Less than ten minutes into their journey it began to snow.  Albeit they were tiny, little, wispy flakes but, it was the first time they’d encountered snow while towing and Jay’s blood pressure rose.  Fortunately the roads only became damp from the melted flakes and he only slowed his pace when the blizzard like flurries reduced visibility.  With daylight to spare, they pulled into their campsite at Hill Air Force Base, fired up the space heaters and settled in for a cozy night thankful that they’d dodged the snow bullet.  Later a television weather update spoke of snow falling in the area.  Sure enough, when Chris peeked out the window, there it was.  At least four inches had fallen and it was still snowing.  Well, maybe they didn’t dodge the bullet, but at least they didn’t get stranded in it.

Polson Projects

After three weeks at Glacier National Park, Jay and Chris were not anxious to leave the mountains of Montana.  Jay called his friend in Polson, Fletcher Brown, whom they had stayed with earlier in the month to see if they could continue their visit.  Fletcher informed them that his winter campground rates were in effect at 50 cents a week and they were welcome to visit any time.  So, although their direction away from Glacier was south, they drove less than forty miles and arrived on September 9th.

Fletcher’s home with the Mission Mountain range in the background.

He’s selling his house if anyone is interested.

When Chris planned their summer itinerary, she had no knowledge of fall weather conditions near the 49^th parallel and made their stop at Glacier the last reservation which turned out to be one of the best decisions of the year, at least as far as Fletcher was concerned.  He had just bought a brand new Airstream trailer and had ordered all the components needed to make it electrically self-sufficient.  Six solar panels, four ninety-three pound, deep cycle, six volt storage batteries, high power DC to AC inverter and boxes full of wires, connectors and screws had arrived about the same time as his guests. 

Jay’s Coast Guard enlisted time as an Electronics Technician and all the modifications he did to his sailboat came in handy as they set about tearing out the sofa and settee and installing the wires and other electrical devices.  What Fletcher anticipated would take a couple of days turned into at least two full weeks of long days sitting in awkward positions on the floor, figuring out how to run wires, installing remote control panels and having to rework the battery and inverter positions when Chris pointed out that she didn’t think the sofa would fit over the existing arrangement.  At last the bugs were worked out and all functioned as expected.  Based on all they learned, via the numerous trials and errors, the great technical wizards figured the next Airstream they convert really will only take two days.   

The best part of the whole project for Jay was being able to spend some special time with Fletch.  When they were stationed together, in San Juan, Puerto Rico, they were both helicopter pilots and though they often worked together they never could “play” together – one of them was always on duty.  This was the first time Jay could truly enjoy Fletch’s great sense of humor and really get to know him on a more personal level.  We suspect there will be more adventures together in the future.

The view out their back window – a typical Montana sunset.

About a week into their visit, Chris visited the “man cave” garage to inform the guys of dinner arrangements.  While leaving, she turned to close the garage door behind her and suddenly heard a loud pop and felt excruciating pain.  Her right foot had slipped sideways off the step and she’d twisted her ankle.  Unable to stand under her own power, she called for Jay.  No response.  She called louder.  No response.  A final scream brought him and Fletcher to the door.  Expressions of concern, hands lifting and queries as to what had happened followed as Jay helped her hobble home to Sonny.  Hmmmmm, how to get up the steps?  Of course, on all fours.  Yan was inside, having lingered after their dinner preparations conversation.  More expressions of concern and a quick dart into the house to retrieve a Chinese remedy which was slathered over the ankle and then wrapped in plastic wrap.  Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) calls for heat on muscle strains but the expected warmth never occurred and it was chalked up to the age of the fluid.  Chris resorted to the microwavable heat pack, and lay down wondering why this, somewhat major inconvenience, had occurred after all the strenuous hiking of the summer and experiencing trail conditions that were far more conducive to such an accident.  Jay had started to completely wax the RV and she’d helped the day before.  But, it required standing on a ladder; something she now doubted she could do. 

The pop she heard was of concern, but then again her ankle popped all the time; especially in the morning coming down the two steps from her bedroom.  She considered going to the local hospital for x-rays but after a few days of improvement, studying anatomical charts of bone and muscle and feeling the affected area for points of pain, decided it was unnecessary.  Although still hobbling, within three days she was driving Yan to Kalispell for some jewelry shopping and to find a birthday gift for Fletcher.

Meanwhile Jay continued his efforts to spruce up Sonny.  The first time Sonny got a complete waxing was the winter of 2009 during a six week rest in Bushnell, FL.  The year before had been packed with accomplishing all the minute details required to embark on a two-year cross-country odyssey and RV cosmetics was at the bottom of the list.  At the time, Jay insisted that the first wax be a base coat of paste.  He and Chris worked for several days waxing on and waxing off until the job was done and the muscle exhaustion in their arms and shoulders put them out of commission.  To avoid a similar toll on their bodies during future tasks, Jay purchased a buffer which he utilized in Polson.  It cut the time to complete the job in half and the toll on their bodies 90%!

Jay with buffer during a day of waxing.

Fletcher’s “country estate” is replete with a small orchard of cherry, peach, pear and apple trees.  About mid-September, the peaches ripened all at once and Yan and Chris scrambled to salvage them from becoming food for the many deer that roamed the nearby hills.   Two five gallon buckets of the succulent orbs could not be consumed by the four residents before they spoiled, so a method of storage was sought.  Yan was against canning them so Chris found instructions on the internet for freezing peaches and they set about the task of sorting the fully ripe from the not quite yets.  Water was boiled, spheres blanched, skins slipped off, fruit sliced, pits removed and hemispheres arranged individually on trays to freeze.  Two such sessions, a few days apart, were required to salvage the harvest. 

Yan packed Chris’ freezer with Ziploc bags of the booty that would become fodder for future smoothies.  But, before she could partake, a pear tree ripened.  Removing skins to freeze pears was akin to apples and required hand peeling with paring knives or using a combination corer/peeler device.  Neither was acceptable to Chris or Yan and the peaches sat in their freezers while freshly picked pears became the main smoothie ingredient over the next week.  Just as the pear supply dwindled, several apple trees began dropping their bounty and Chris was beginning to feel like a pioneer living off of the land.

Fletcher and Yan were beginning the final preparations for their departure to San Diego where they would be closer to his mother who was in the final stages of recovering from a stroke she’d suffered earlier in the summer.   They would take the Airstream and live in it until a house was secured and adequately furnished for them to stay with his mother.  Therefore, the volume of apples from three trees would be impossible to consume before they left and storage space in the trailer would be utilized by far more important belongings.  Chris gathered as much of the ripened crop that she could store and switched to apple smoothies.



Chris didn’t like the noisiness of the ATV, but it was fun to ride.

She used it to pick up the mail after spraining her ankle.

One might ask why so many smoothies?  The answer is simple:  They are one of the yummiest foods on the planet, they are one of the most nutritious and filling “light” meals one can consume, they are easy to make and since Chris is on a vegan diet, they make a wonderful mid-day meal sans meat.  While most commercial smoothies are made from a little bit of fruit and lots of ice, she adds flax meal, fiber and protein powders to some form of juice, and the rest is primarily fruit.  Sometimes she’ll add yogurt or coconut milk.  She’s even thrown in shredded coconut which sweetens and thickens the concoction.  She also started adding grass – Wheat Grass that is.  Over the summer she’d learned about super foods like Goji berries, Cacao beans and Wheat Grass.  Spying containers of the grass in the grocery store one day, she bought one and immediately began adding it to the smoothies.  An added bonus to making smoothies is that the blender they brought, originally to make Jay’s tropical adult beverages (which he never does), is justifying its weight in the RV and is utilized almost every day!

  

During their month at the “Brown RV Park”, Chris expanded her cooking repertoire by learning to make yogurt.  It is the one dairy item that she cheats with on her vegan diet to add a little more protein to her nutritional regimen.  Plus, she just likes the taste!  When she started adding up the cost of the yogurt she and Jay consumed, it was getting a little pricy, especially since she liked to buy the more expensive organic brands when she could find them.  To help the budget, she investigated making her own and the cost of a yogurt maker but couldn’t figure out where she would store the appliance when not in use.  Then she learned how to make it in an oven - gas or electric - and decided to give it a try. 

Since most yogurts are low fat or fat free, she also wanted to boost the Omega 3 fatty acids in their diet and decided to use organic, whole milk.  With instructions from several websites, a candy thermometer, eight-ounce jelly jars, a couple of pots, milk and yogurt starter, she gave it a go.  After overcooking once, a runny batch, and another mishap, on the fourth try – SUCCESS!!!  Rich and creamy!! 

They don’t call it Big Sky Country for nothing.

A view of Polson from a nearby hill.

Her culinary repertoire was further expanded by learning how Yan made some of her delicious meals.  She and Yan took turns making dinners and Chris would offer assistance on her night off while watching and learning.  A favorite meal was broth soup with dumplings or noodles, cilantro, some seasonings and usually some other vegetable like bok choy.  Chris made such a fuss over how good the dumplings were that Yan bought the ingredients on their next shopping excursion and spent the afternoon showing her how to make them.  Once made, Yan freezes the dumplings then pulls out what she needs for each meal.  By the evening, Yan was attempting to stuff Chris’ freezer with the day’s results.  Unfortunately it was still full of peaches and other frozen items.  It was obvious to Chris that her meals would need to utilize more existing frozen items to make room for the dumplings.

An unexpected skill the visitors learned was the adept use of chopsticks.  They were the primary utensils used by Yan, not only for eating, but also for cooking, mixing the dough and stuffing for dumplings and even removing cooked noodles from a pan!  They were like an extension of her fingers.  Jay and Chris didn’t become as skilled as Yan but after a couple of weeks they could pick up single grains of rice from their dinner bowls.

Yan on the ATV after a run to the mailbox.

Fletcher had met Yan on a trip to China seven years before.  He was learning the Chinese language via a Rosetta Stone program but was told that the best way to understand it was to visit the country.  The rest of the story is history, but they were recently married and Yan moved to America speaking almost no English.  Fletcher has worked with her to learn the language and combined with a Chinese to English version of Rosetta Stone she can carry on a simple conversation but could not understand a conversation between Jay and Fletcher. 

Chris grasped Yan’s range of the language when they would go shopping together and she coached her on some words and their correct pronunciations.  Before long they could communicate pretty well, using a combination of speech and body/hand signs and Chris felt like she was a tourist in a foreign land trying to get directions from a native.  But, they could not have in depth discussions except on the computer.  Yan had a translation program on her laptop and Fletcher showed Chris the Google Translate website that he used to communicate with her.  When discussions became too involved, Chris or Yan would signal to use the computer and they talked through the issues.  By the end of their stay, Chris and Jay learned to say hello in Chinese.  The phonetic pronunciation is “nee how” or 您好.

Montana’s warm September weather lulled the travelers into a comfortable, relaxed routine and a month slipped past them practically un-noticed.  October arrived and cold, rainy weather set in.  Knowing a departure was imminent, Jay purchased several mail order items and they planned to leave when they arrived.  During their last week in Polson, Fletcher treated everyone to dinner for Yan’s birthday, Chris and Jay outlined their route south, a batch of yogurt was made and laundry washed.  On a cool, rainy, Friday, October 7^th, they said their goodbyes to their gracious hosts and pulled Sonny down the driveway while contemplating Fletcher’s offer to house sit over the winter.

Yan and Fletcher at the restaurant in Big Fork during Yan’s birthday dinner.



Glacial Majesty

Glaciar National Park was like the icing on the cake to Chris and Jay’s summer travels.  Others, who had been to the Park, told them it was one of the most beautiful places in the country.  They were right.  The combination of two, pristine, mountain lakes separated by Continental Divide peaks, carved through the millennia by glacial forces, offered vistas unparalleled in their travels thus far.

Located in the northwest corner of Montana, near the Canadian border, it is part of the northernmost Rocky Mountain Range in the U.S. and encompasses over 1 million acres and over 130 named lakes.  St Mary and McDonald Lakes are the two largest and rest at opposite sides of the Park providing majestic views from all angles.   The tallest peaks have flat faces on multiple sides creating the classic glacial horn appearance similar to the famous Matterhorn in the Swiss/Italian Alps. 

Clements Mountain (left) was shaped by glaciers

and is part of the Continental Divide at Logan Pass.

The Going to the Sun Road bisects the Park and runs east to west across Logan Pass and the Continental Divide.  From the valley floor, it ascends the mountains in one, long, narrow, slightly twisted, incline, passing waterfalls, and sheer drops both above and below the pavement.   The visitors decided to make their first day a photography scouting day and Jay drove the road white knuckled whilst trying not to collide with head-on traffic or go through the low, stone barrier separating them from sheer, multi-thousand foot drops to the lush, green, valley floor.   Meanwhile Chris was oooing and ahhhing at the spectacular mountain scenery and snapping point-and-shoots the entire way to the Pass.

A view west on the Going to the Sun Road.

A Visitor Center welcomes all who brave the ascent and is the transfer point for shuttle bus passengers wishing to go to either side of the Park from whence they came.  Jay vowed he would never drive the road again and Chris agreed that the shuttle would be their main mode of transportation from then on.

The shuttle was convenient, but also limited the time they could be on the trail, especially in the late afternoon when the light was just beginning to “get good” for photography.  After two attempts to visit the east side of the Park, and needing to be at Logan Pass by 7 p.m. for the trip west, they decided future excursions would be on the west side, to the Pass only, and begin early in the morning. 

August Glacier Park daytime temperatures hover in the seventies and eighties but, at 6,600 feet, the 8 a.m. Logan Pass temps dipped into the thirties and forties making the need for warm attire mandatory and explaining why there was snow still clinging to the nearby slopes and meadows.   A one and a half mile long trail leads from the Visitor Center to the gorgeous Hidden Lake viewpoint.  In mid-August about half of the trail was covered with snow and Chris and Jay rolled their eyes at the foot attire of some visitors.  Painted toenails in sexy sandals halted inches from the melting glacier, hesitated, then reversed course.   Slick bottomed sneakers slipped through slush, barely keeping their wearers aloft.  The variety was so laughable that Chris coined a new motto: “Never go to a National Park dressed like you are going to the Mall.”  And yet, many visitors do.

Visitors braving the snow on the Hidden Lake Trail.

The Hidden Lake.  The trail to the lake was closed due to bears.

The Mountain Goat is the official symbol of Glacier National Park and at the Hidden Lake viewpoint they frequently pass within a few yards of onlookers from all over the world.   While Chris was composing photos of the lake, Jay was off with the point-and-shoot snapping shots of the white, mountain nymphs that seemed surprised at the presence of intruders blocking their path down the mountainside. 

This Mountain Goat had yet to shed its winter coat - in August.

Despite the prediction of sun, the weather turned cloudy, windy and cold and the shutter bugs headed back to the shuttle stop with some new acquaintances, Brent and Nancy Garrison.  Nancy is an amateur photographer and she and Chris were sharing secrets when they realized their spouses were no longer nearby but well behind them and engaged in conversation with a tall man wearing a Tilley hat.  While hiking, Jay wears a Tilley hat to protect his face from the sun.  When he spies another on the trails, he comments to the wearer that it is a nice hat.  This sometimes leads to a short conversation where he stops and Chris keeps going.  Such was the case this particular morning except the wearer turned out to be the Superintendent of the Park!  Chris and Nancy doubled back, introductions were made and group photos taken before they continued on.

Left to right: Jay, Chris The Super and Brent.

A young man, with skis strapped to his back, had passed the hikers on their way to the overlook and was headed toward one of the snow-covered slopes.  On their return trip, Chris searched the peaks for his tracks and found them.  He not only had wanted to ski, but to be an artist as he’d carved a caduceus-like spiral down the slope.

It seemed a bit of an effort for the reward.

One of their east side excursions took them to St. Mary Falls, a beautiful, two-tiered fall which spilled frothy white foam into a translucent blue-green pool.  Chris spent a considerable amount of time capturing the scene from different angles as other visitors passed by.  One middle-aged man repeatedly cast glances at Chris and, determining that the man patiently reading a magazine nearby was somehow associated with her, approached Jay to ask about her attire. 

St. Mary Fall.

Over the last year Chris had developed a somewhat unusual collection of camera garb.  She wears an Army combat vest replete with grenade and canteen pouches filled with lenses, adapters and other useful items for photographing in the field.  A Camelbak water reservoir is fastened to the back of the vest and she dons a large-brimmed hat for protection from the sun.   As many double takes as she gets from her gear getup, the item that draws the most inquiries is her black cape. 

Chris likes to check the monitor to evaluate photo compositions and confirm the image is in focus before moving to another location.  When photographing in the sun, it is almost impossible to see what is being displayed on the camera monitor.    She solved the problem by making a cape of a heavy, black, knit fabric.  It is attached to the shoulders of the vest and when she wants to check the monitor, tosses it over her head and camera much like photographers of old did with large format cameras.  It blocks the sun, creating a mini darkroom, so that the monitor is easily viewed. 

Chris with vest and hiking poles.  The cape is rolled up and attached to the

 back of the vest until needed.  It is visible below the vest between the poles.

It was the cape the man was so intrigued by.  He queried Jay about where Chris had gotten it and how could he get one.  To his surprise, Jay explained how she had sewed it herself, by hand.  The discussion led to where she got the vest, what lenses she used and other photo talk before signals from his wife, impatient to get going, terminated the conversation. 

Similar scenarios frequently occur on the trails.  Because Chris unexpectedly stops to photograph, Jay usually walks behind her and sees passer’s by reactions of double takes and stares.  Several people have stopped to talk about her outfit, taken photos of her and new friendships have been forged.  Admittedly it is quite a conversation starter.

After a week of moderately strenuous hikes, Chris and Jay decided they were fit enough for the eleven mile long Highline/Loop Trail.  It starts at the Logan Pass Visitor Center and treks horizontally across a mountainous section of the Continental Divide for seven miles.  The Highline Trail section terminates at the Granite Park Chalet which provides sleeping quarters for hikers that want to experience more than just a day hike.  To get back to civilization one needs to hike downhill four miles to The Loop on the Going to the Sun Road to pick up a shuttle bus or reunite with a vehicle. 

The hikers caught a 7:15 a.m. shuttle to Logan Pass and by 8:30 they were on the shaded, freezing cold trail admiring the frosty patterns on the surrounding plants.  Chris stopped to capture some photos and for the most part, was comfortably warm.  On the other hand, Jay was miserable having underdressed for the day.  The lack of sun and cold temperatures had him pacing back and forth and doing everything he could think of, including covering himself with a poncho, to keep warm.    Several hours and a few miles later, the sun was warming a distant stretch of the trail and Jay pushed ahead to thaw out. 

Jay feeling pretty miserable.

Around every corner the panoramic vistas of the mountains across the valley were breathtaking.   Charcoal peaks rose almost vertically from emerald green valleys and puffs of clouds impaled themselves on the stalwart summits.  Patches of snow clung to hollows in the highest altitudes.  Halfway to the Chalet, McDonald Lake shimmered in the distance like millions of tiny sapphires glinting in the sun as it lay nestled amongst layers of blue-toned ridges. 

McDonald Lake from the Highline Trail.

Along the trail Chris was intrigued by the myriad of colorful rocks that blanketed the surrounding slopes.  From pebbles to boulders there were greens and blues and peaches and cream; sometimes solid and sometimes layered in the same stones.   She stopped to photograph some of the interesting details and found abstract mountains and faces amongst the fractures.

One of the more unusual rocks found on the trail.

Although the wildlife at six thousand feet is sparse, it is grand.  A heard of mature, male Bighorn Sheep blended into the landscape almost imperceptibly.  But the sharp eyes of a fellow hiker caught them and shared the sight with others.  Young ladies hiking in the opposite direction had seen several Grizzly Bears but by the time Chris and Jay caught sight of them, they were well out of photographic range.   They stayed to see two large Grizzlies, one with silver shoulders, and a large cub run up an almost vertical slope to the mountain crest and amble over to the other side.  The observers were in awe of the massive power required of these huge mammals to effect such a feat.

Almost invisible against the rocks, two Bighorn Sheep rest in the sunny warmth.

At 7:20 p.m. the last shuttle bus leaves The Loop parking lot.   The tiring hikers reached the Chalet about 5 p.m., stopped for a brief rest and started down the mountain to their destination four miles below.  Most people might think hiking downhill is easier because of gravity’s assistance but the knees take more of a pounding which is then transferred to the hips and lower back and before long ones entire body is throbbing with pain.  Chris and Jay’s feet and hips started aching at the six mile mark but the lingering 7 o-clock deadline forced them forward.  

The Granite Park Chalet.  How they wished they could have stayed the night there.

In Chris’ opinion, The Loop Trail could have been half the length since they spied The Loop section, of the Going to the Sun Road, about one third of the way down the four mile length.  But then the trail continued away from their destination for what seemed like an eternity as the late afternoon rays of the sun heated the weary hikers beyond a level of comfort.  Another stop to peel off layers helped but by this time every step had become synonymous with misery as inflamed toes and heels rubbed boots continuously.  The backpack and camera vest straps dug into their shoulders and felt as if someone had snuck up on them and attached twenty pound lead weights. And yet the trail continued away from their destination.   

At long last it swung around and their spirits brightened, but only briefly as they realized they had to match and exceed the distance they had traveled while wondering if their tortured toes would hold out.  Every step became more painful than the one before.  Knees, hips, backs and shoulders screamed for relief but, aware of the approaching shuttle deadline, the brains knew they could not rest.

Finally, The Loop road appeared, but a deep ravine separated the exhausted hikers from their journey’s end.  The detour around it involved trekking hundreds of yards away from the road, crossing a footbridge and trudging back on the other side, to – PAVEMENT!!  Dodging traffic Chris and Jay plodded on to the Shuttle Stop and plopped onto the bench at exactly 7:08 p.m.  Their feet were swollen and felt as if they’d walked on hot coals.  Gear was shed, bodies hydrated and sighs and smiles of relief were exchanged.    Now able to laugh at the experience they decided a bathroom break was needed before the long shuttle ride home. 

The human body is an amazing creation.  It can endure torturous physical stress and periods of tremendous endurance, but once it rests, it locks up.  Such was the case with Chris and Jay.  Chris looked like an arthritically crippled, ninety year old as she stood up in stages, first leaning her body forward then pushing off the bench with her arms and struggling upright against the throbbing back pain.  Finally upright, but with a slight hunch, she hobbled on tender feet across the street to her destination.  Ditto on the return trip.  Her kindred spirit endured a similar experience.

The shuttle drive was an opportunity to relax and the bus deposited them where they began their excursion.  Vowing never to exceed a six mile hike again, they elatedly crawled into Big Red and made a bee line home to Sonny, and an evening of popcorn and a movie.

The perfect weather, gorgeous sights and myriad of hiking trails obliged the travelers to extend their two week stay to three from which emerged an unexpected surprise.  David and Sherry Boyd, whom they had met on a Bryce Canyon trail and had admired Chris’ photo vest, was staying at the same Glacier RV Park.   Unfortunately, Sherry had broken her ankle while jogging one morning and was completely laid up.  Chris shared some books to occupy her long days of inactivity and their friends left a few days later while still grappling with the decision to continue their tour or head back to their home in Virginia. 

Early September is a time of celebration for Chris and Jay.  Their anniversary is on the 7^th and Jay’s birthday the 9^th.  On the 8^th, they celebrated with a dinner at the historic Belton Chalet the first Great Northern Railway hotel which was built near the Glacier National Park entrance around 1910.  It was a wonderful finale to some of the best time spent on their Odyssey thus far and the morning of the 9^th Sonny was on the move again but, this time heading south.