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.

Playing in Polson

Fletcher Webster Brown, III, as Jay always calls him, is a Coast Guard, flying days friend of Jay’s.  They also served at Coast Guard headquarters together in the early 1980s and from then until the travelers’ visit in August, 2011 they had gotten together only one other time.  Fletcher moved to Montana in the mid-1990s and built a beautiful, two-story log home on a five-acre plot overlooking the town of Polson.  To the north is the Flathead Lake, to the east, the 9,000 foot high Mission Mountain Range and the rolling, grass covered terrain to the south and west belong to the Flathead Indian Reservation.   When the house was built, Fletcher conveniently created a circular driveway complete with an adjacent, large square parking space for his ATVs and other toys and was a perfect place for Chris and Jay to park Sonny for their week-long stay.

Yan Can Cook is the name of an Asian cooking show that used to air on PBS but the name certainly applied to the culinary skills of Fletcher’s wife, Yan.  The afternoon of the visitors’ arrival she created a lunch of three different vegetable stir-fries served over bowls of rice.  It was all so yummy that Chris and Jay waddled from the table regretting the volume they’d consumed but still craving more of the delicious flavors.  It was a heavy mid-day meal compared to the lightness of their daily fruit smoothie lunches.  The remainder of the week was filled with more tasty experiences and Chris hung out in the kitchen more than once to observe and learn.

Fletcher wasted no time in exposing his guests to the outdoor pleasures of his Montana lifestyle.  The next day everyone piled into his truck and, raft in tow, headed north toward Glacier National Park and a rocky put-in location to launch the vessel on a fork of the Flathead River. 

Yan (left) and Jay (center) stand by while Fletcher prepares the raft for launch.

The day was brilliantly cloudless, windless and warm which compensated for the frigidly cold glacial water.    A brief stop, so Fletcher could give his fly rod a workout, enabled Chris and Jay to step out of the raft and experience exactly how cold the water was.  Smooth, rounded rocks from small pebbles to the size of a man’s hand lined the shallow cove and seldom could the travelers resist seeking out especially unique and beautiful stones to add to their growing collection.  But Chris’ toes could only tolerate the icy liquid a few moments before they numbed and needed thawing from the warmth of the bright orb above.  After a few freeze/thaw cycles, an assortment of rocks was collected, judged worthy or not and retained or discarded, by the time Fletch tired of casting, and they shoved off to complete their lazy, tranquil float.

 

It just doesn’t get much better than this.

In some sections of the river the water was a luminescent aqua green and different than any color, except the waters of the Caribbean Sea, Jay or Chris had ever seen.   They learned that the water contains tiny bits of rock and minerals called “rock flour” which is created by the grinding action of glaciers and suspended in the melted water that cascades into the rivers below.  The rock particles refract the green spectrum of the sun’s light so it appears green.   The glacial action on the surrounding mountains was different than traditional snow melt on other peaks which did not produce the same colorful water.

The beautiful, green glacial water.

 

A few days later Fletcher introduced his guests to ATVing.  He had two of the machines and took everyone to the golden hills of the Reservation on the west side of the Lake where seldom used, dirt, back roads laced across the massive mounds covered in late summer’s grassy harvest. 

The rolling foothills of the Salish Mountains.

 

As a change from hiking, Jay and Chris had a good time on the noisy machines as they bumped along the deserted roads far enough behind Fletcher and Yan to not eat their dust.  They tooled into a wooded hollow, where a road ended, stopped for a quick snack and some target practice.  Unlike the PC/gun fearing Eastern States, from which Chris and Jay came, Montana is very firearm friendly and practicing ones skills in remote locations is common place.   They took turns aiming at the exposed roots of a fallen tree and cheered when a piece broke away.

Chris practicing her firearm skills.

Chris told her host about a low fuel light on her machine and Fletcher realized he should have given the gas tank more than a cursory glance when he topped his up at the gas station in Polson.  They headed back the way they came and, when the gauge dropped below a comfortable level, decided to stop and try to siphon some gas from one machine to the other.   They sacrificed the hose from Chris’ Camelbak and Fletcher’s quart-sized water bottle to complete the task and carried on with almost equal amounts of fuel in each ATV.

Fletcher and Yan.

Up and down more mounds and through chest-high purple and yellow blossoms they determined a wrong turn had been made and backtracking was in order.   Doubling back to the siphoning spot and beyond they found the turn they’d missed then putted through familiar surroundings to the truck and home to another sumptuous meal.

No visit to a Montana resident would be complete without a mountain hike.  Fletcher took everyone, including his two dogs, Zena and Gunner, on a short hike that led to another idyllic mountain lake that, to Jay’s relief, was practically mosquito free thanks to the thousands of huge dragonflies who called the  area home.  The lake fed a stream whose sparkling waters cascaded over and around moss covered rocks littering the route as the water plunged past ancient cedars and delicate woodland flowers to the valley floor.   

Jay and Chris at another beautiful mountain lake.

Precious, streamside, woodland flowers.

The Flathead Indian Reservation is home to the National Bison Range and, with an ample amount of the afternoon remaining, they decided it was worth a visit.  About four hundred bison wander the 29 square miles of rolling hills they call home. 

An antler mound near the Visitor Center.

Visitors primarily view them via the one-way, nineteen mile long Red Sleep Mountain Drive which zigzags up a central mountain and skirts the north side of the Refuge.  Although the landscape was beautiful, it wasn’t until the last couple of miles that they spied the herd.  Small groups of the magnificent beasts clustered together along the banks of the lone river that traversed the northern boundary of the Range and, to the motorists, most were too far away and appeared to be large, brown lumps contrasting against golden grasses. 

One lone bison near the river’s edge.

Chris and Jay had seen their share of the beasts at Yellowstone so, the distance and lack of expected numbers of bison didn’t bother them.  But, the day was not lost of them as they truly enjoyed the drive, viewing the other wildlife on the Range and the fantastic vistas of the valley and mountains which surrounded them. 

A view of the Range from Red Sleep Mountain Drive.

The Fletcher Brown RV Park was, at the sum of $1 per week, one of the least expensive his guests had encountered.  But they figured with low pressure, gravity fed water and the 20 amp house socket, that couldn’t power the RV’s microwave, hindering some of their daily luxuries, it was appropriately priced.  Besides, they were well fed, given free outdoor entertainment and twice treated to massive scoops of delectable ice cream at the local parlor.  All-in-all it was one of the best deals and most enjoyable visits with friends so far!

The Fletcher Brown RV Park.  He owns an Airstream trailer.

At the end of their fun-filled week Glacier National Park beckoned.  Jay paid his dollar and with hugs and fond farewells, they headed up the east side of Flathead Lake to the northernmost destination of their summer.

Moseying Through Montana

When Chris had planned their 2011 travels north she was smart enough to schedule down time after major photography stops and six days at Bozeman, Montana was just what they needed after all the driving at Yellowstone.   The RV Park where they stayed packed the transient guests into shade less, graveled sites like sardines and was sandwiched between the interstate on one side and very active train tracks on the other; complete with a nearby intersection which required passing locomotives to blow the long, short, long air horns at their approach.   Chris and Jay never knew what to expect when they arrived at a new Park and pondered adding “How close are you to train tracks?” to the list of questions they normally ask about price, cell service, and hook-up facilities when making reservations.

When checking into the Park on Friday, July 29^th, they were told about a Sunday morning Farmers’ Market held at the Bozeman Fairgrounds.  Tired of the same old breakfast fare, Chris suggested they go out for a Sunday morning breakfast and attend the Farmers Market thinking it would give them a flavor of the area.

After so many weeks of living close to the earth and hiking Chris decided it was time to get gussied up for their trip into “the city”.  Hair was styled, makeup was applied, “going out” attire was selected and donned and she felt like a person she had known before but had somehow lost track of.   With map in hand, complete with locations of eating establishments graciously noted by the Park owners, the visitors eagerly headed into town for a welcome break from computers and long days of driving. 

They found the college town of Bozeman held more promise than the RV Park.  Late eighteen hundred style vintage brick buildings lined the broad, downtown Main Street echoing its early roots and clean, roomy, sidewalks bordered prosperous shops, offices and cafés.  They hopped out of Big Red and eagerly headed toward the location of several orange dots on the map signifying restaurants serving scrumptious breakfast fare.

They walked a few blocks and didn’t find the one they sought, so they crossed the street and doubled back seeking an alternative option.  Nothing seemed appealing so, thinking they had somehow missed the establishment, they crossed the street again and slowly scanned the storefronts and signs they’d previously passed.  Still no café.  Thinking the establishment had gone out of business, perhaps unbeknownst to the Park owner, they again crossed the street in hopes of finding something that would satisfy their growling tummies. 

After reading the menu in the window of a small coffee shop and not finding what they felt would satisfy their cravings, they turned to continue down the street when a woman, sitting at the establishment’s lone outdoor table with her husband, asked if she could help them find something.  Jay explained their quest and, in an instant, discovered the orange dot on the map was on the wrong block.  The discussion of directions turned into where each party was from, then why each was there, to introductions and exchanging cards with contact information.  Their new friends, Paula Milano and Eric Nielsen, then walked them far enough to see the café’s sign and they vowed to get together before leaving at the end of the week.

The meal at Main Street Over Easy did not disappoint and in fact exceeded Jay and Chris’ expectations of breakfast fare in a small western town.  But the delay in finding it, plus the time spent eating, left only an hour to take in the Farmers’ Market. 

Compared to the Fairgrounds near Annapolis and Baltimore, Bozeman’s was quite small.  And due to the minute percentage of produce stands vs. craft vendors, it seemed to Chris that it should be called a flea market or craft fair rather than a Farmers’ Market; but they found the fresh veggies she wanted and then some.   To Chris it was an opportunity to get some unique Christmas gifts.  To Jay it was about PIE!!  They sought and they scored!

After two weeks without a cell signal hundreds of e-mails needed attention, bills needed to be paid, laundry had to be washed and in general, the travelers enjoyed not needing to drive anywhere except to re-provision their depleted supplies.   Dinner with Paula and Eric was their only commitment and they all enjoyed it thoroughly.

A view of the Madison Mountain Range from Peets Hill/Burke Park in Bozeman.

 

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In May of 2010 Chris corresponded with a former computer client, turned friend, about their plans to tour Montana that year.  (If you’ve been following the blog you know those plans were delayed until 2011.)   Chris’ friend knew a couple that lived in Deer Lodge, MT and suggested that they get together when they passed through the area on the way to Glacier National Park.  Several e-mails later an invitation to visit was extended by the Deer Lodge residents, Irene and Bill Fries (pronounced frees).   Not wanting to be an imposition on people they’d never met, and not knowing how they might get along, Chris arranged to stay only through a weekend.   On Friday, August 5^th Jay maneuvered Sonny onto a level area of their front lawn while trying not to be distracted by the view across the valley of the majestic Flint Creek mountain range and the 10,000 foot Mt. Powell.  Irene and Bill were gracious hosts and the two couples found much in common to discuss and do. 

A breathtakingly beautiful sunset over the Flint Creek Range.

Irene is an avid hiker, but long treks do not agree with Bill’s extremities which keep him home working on improvements or woodworking projects.   Elated that Chris and Jay shared her outdoor interest, the three of them planned to hike the next day.   She took them to a trail that led to the Barker Lakes – one lower, the other upper.   The trail to the lower lake took them through open fields with spectacular views of the surrounding peaks, Lodgepole Pine forests and rock strewn meadows dotted with stunted trees but brimming with wildflowers of every color amongst  the lush, tall, vibrant  green grasses which are nourished by the turbulent lake-fed stream running parallel to the path. 

A patch of wildflowers along the trail.

After several miles they crested a hill and before them lay a mountain paradise.  Gray peaks, dotted with tenacious patches of snow, soared above a deep green skirt of mature pine and fir and wrapped around the lake like a protective, 4,000 foot high horseshoe.  The hikers longed to build a cozy cabin on the shore and live out the rest of their days in quiet, stress-free solitude.      

Chris and Jay at Lower Barker Lake.

Irene had a magazine article that explained how to get to the upper lake and Chris, more than Jay, was eager to help her find it.  The writer explained that trees with patches of bark removed were the trail markers to look for.  The hikers set out on a faint trail around the rim of the lake and turned inland where they thought the directions indicated.  At this point there was no trail but they pressed through rough, dead limbs and over errant rocks and rotting logs trying to find the bare spots on trees that would mark their way.  The directions indicated crossing a 100 foot wide rock slide and that a tree with a bare patch was visible on the other side.  Chris and Irene left Jay, who was tiring of the exercise, and scaled an almost vertical slope littered with boulders the size of a body ball to reach a level area that they thought might lead them to the lake; and maybe even spy one of the bare trail markers.  Nothing was sighted but dark storm clouds above the mountain peaks heading their way. 

Irene descending the rock slide.

Feeling their efforts were in vain, and much to Jay’s relief, they all trekked down to the lake and arrived under the shelter of some dense evergreens just as the heavens opened complete with bolts of lightning and rolling claps of thunder.   It was the Christening of Chris and Jay’s ponchos that they so dutifully carted around with them on every hike and Irene covered up with a beach blanket she kept in her pack.

The sky cleared and they made it back to the car unscathed but disappointed they’d not located the upper lake.  A search on Google maps revealed that it was on the other side of the mountain to the left of the lake and one had to skirt around the base of it to get to the other side.   If three, intelligent people couldn’t locate the elusive body of water, they determined that the article’s directions were misleading and the map grossly inaccurate.

The next day Bill joined them to spend the afternoon at the Grant-Kohrs Ranch National Historic Site located in Deer Lodge.  All that remains of one of the largest Montana cattle ranches is 1,600 acres and 80 historic structures originally used by founder, Johnny Grant, and subsequent owner, Conrad Kohrs, from the 1850s well into the 20^th century.  In the Ranch’s heyday 50,000 head of cattle roamed over 10 million acres of western Montana, Wyoming, Colorado and Canada.   The visitors toured the monstrous home, learned about the role of the chuck wagon on cattle drives and even practiced throwing a lasso around a makeshift wooden horse. 

A Ranch Volunteer, who makes a stiff cup of coffee, stands next to the Chuckwagon.

Bill Fries watches Jay practice his lassoing skills.

The new friends all agreed that their time together was too short and Chris and Jay promised to spend more time when they next passed through the area.  On Monday, August 8^th they departed for a four-day layover at Missoula, a few hours to the northwest.

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Missoula was a much larger town than they had expected but Jay took advantage of the plethora of large, chain stores to purchase some items that he had coveted for some time.  When Chris is photographing he usually takes along a magazine to read and pass the time.  He’d finished so many over the last year that he was running out of the stockpile of back issues he’d accumulated and wanted to begin reading novels, but didn’t want to carry the weight.  An e-reader seemed to be the logical solution and he finally found one that suited his needs and price range in Missoula.  He also yearned for a cell signal booster since the signals, in the remote areas where they camped, often were less than three bars resulting in dropped calls and making internet usage painfully slow.  He was ecstatic to find one and couldn’t wait to get it installed.

Despite the nearby train, the large, grassy sites and profusion of flowers in manicured beds, throughout the RV Park, made Chris and Jay think that it was one of the prettiest in which they had stayed.  They learned that their neighbors, Gerry and Dee Vachon, agreed when they got together one night after dinner.   The spacious lawns between the sites were home to large shade trees and created an inviting location for several hours of casual conversation.  After dusk the temperatures chilled so they moved inside - just before the sprinklers came on.  Gerry and Dee stayed only one night and an Oriental family took the site the next day.  They were still sitting outside at the picnic table after dinner when Chris and Jay heard their surprised but playful screams when the sprinklers unexpectedly doused them.  Smiles creased the listener’s faces. 

Even though they thought the scheduled down time would enable them to complete long put-off projects, it was not the case but they were looking forward to their visit in Polson with Jay’s old Coast Guard buddy, Fletcher Brown and his new wife Yan Zi, whom he had met on a visit to China seven years before.  The drive from Missoula to Polson was another short day and they arrived at Fletcher’s Montana country home, overlooking the thirty mile-long Flathead River and the quaint town of Polson, the afternoon of Friday, August 12^th .