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 17th, 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, 19th 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 22nd 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 3rd were scheduled to be delivered on September 4th, 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.
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