It’s time to for me to get back into the swing of taking lunchtime walks. So, today I visited Maclay Flats at lunch. Noisy place. Northern flickers were singing and drumming. Pileated woodpeckers were singing and drumming. Almost felt springlike… But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Despite a lack of snow on the ground and spring-like rain and daytime temps it is still the middle of winter.
I also saw a downy woodpecker busy hunting — less noisy than the flickers and pileated woodpeckers, but still a bit noisy.
Noisiest of all, however, was a magpie convention. I know not what the issue under discussion was, but it was a most raucous debate. Perhaps they, too, are debating health care reform and are considering how the election of Scott Brown changes the landscape. Oh, yeah… Mapgies, no doubt, have other matters to keep them occupied.
And, it was time for me to return to my occupation…
When I set out the morning fog was still laying thick over Missoula Valley. By the time I was headed back to work the fog was breaking up and the mountains that enclose the Missoula Valley were peeking through.
Perhaps the backers of the proposed Bitterroot Resort will come to the conclusion it’s just not meant to be. Here’s hoping!
Those of us opposed to the leasing of National Forest land on Lolo Peak to the Bitterroot Resort for development of a “premier” ski area and golf community cite a catalog of concerns on which we base our opposition: environmental, impact on the local community, access issues, water rights issues, etc (see the Friends of Lolo Peak website for more discussion of such issues). Proponents of the idea have consistently cited benefits to the local economy, an argument of which I’ve been skeptical of, as the reason to support the proposal.
Back on April 13, I first read of creditors placing liens against the property for non-payment and wondered if those contractors who have had to place property liens due to non-payment on the part of the Bitterroot Resort for services rendered by those companies are feeling the “economic benefit”?
Maclay originally sought permission to use 11,000 acres of the Lolo and Bitterroot national forests above 3,000 acres of his own property. After five subsequent drafts, the plan most recently called for 212 acres of gladed skiing, 766 acres of Nordic skiing, 585 acres of guided ski touring and 1,461 acres of mountain bike trails. Maclay also proposed building up to 2,700 homes and a golf course on his own land below Carlton Ridge.
Stevensville District Ranger Dan Ritter said he’d been waiting since December 2008 for updated financial information from Maclay in order to continue work on a U.S. Forest Service special use permit for the project.
source>> http://www.missoulian.com/news/local/article_51c32b20-b3ca-11de-b274-001cc4c002e0.html
Bitterroot Resort (Maclay and his partners) haven’t kept faith with creditors, I don’t trust them to keep faith with the property owners of the land he wants to commercialize. That’s you and me.
Waiting for 10 months for updated financial information? We can’t allow an operation that can’t “get it together” to develop National Forest lands.
I hope these foreclosures are the nail in the coffin of the proposed Bitterroot Resort. I’m sorry the creditors got stiffed but I’m glad that it could mean the end of the proposal.
We abruptly went from summer temperatures to winter temparatures overnight a few days ago. My feeders have been busy since and I’ve been pleased to have an irruption of evening grosbeaks visit for the first time in a year or more.
This is one of the males.
Officially retired, but not yet discarded. I put them in the garbage today and took them back out. We’ve been together for too many adventures…
** If you haven’t already, you should read the first installment of this trip report first — scroll down to the previous post.
I woke pre-dawn on Monday morning. Nature called. My feet objected to movement but the trip was necessary. As I was walking to the outhouse, a frozen rain drop, blown out of a tree by the fierce wind, was driven into my ear canal. Good morning!
On my way back to our cabin room I looked around to see if there was any point in getting the camera out for sunrise. It was obvious there would be no sunrise this morning. The world was gray. We were surrounded by low-lying clouds with no view of the sky. There being no point, then, in staying up, I returned to bed to sleep in.
I got up the second time around 8:30 and joined Matt, who had risen a little before, in the Chalet dining room for a breakfast of Cup of Noodles (it was hot and that’s all that mattered) followed by huckleberry flavored coffee and a Montana Monster Cookie.
Our original plan for Monday was a hike to the Grinnell Glacier Overlook. My feet were in no shape for that. Matt considered joining another couple if the weather cleared enough for viewing of the glacier to be possible. In the mean time, we sat at one of the trestle tables next to a window and played cribbage as we watched the storms blow past. Matt beat me 6 games to 2 (the first 2 games up resulting from a skunk).
The mercury hit a high of 34 degrees Fahrenheit that day, but that doesn’t account for wind chill. The wind was blowing steady all day and gusting to about 25 Mph at times. I don’t know what the wind chill factor was but I’ll hazard a guess that it was around 15-20 degrees Fahrenheit.
Though it was early in the day, still before noon, some hikers had arrived via both The Loop Trail and the Highline Trail and warmed their chilled fingers at the wood fire.
As the afternoon wore on we watched a griz sow with two cubs about half a mile up the Highline Trail — between the Chalet and the junction with the Grinnell Glacier Overlook Trail. They were on and off the trail for hours. We could watch as hikers approached and passed them, some aware of the bears, others unaware. As the trio continued to linger on the trail the Rangers decided the situation was too hazardous and went out to haze the family further away from the trail, shooting them with rubber bullets.
The wind and snow increased in the afternoon, reducing visibility. The couple that Matt had considered joining on a trip to the Grinnell Glacier Overlook gave up after their third attempt in wind blown wet snow and zero visibility.
More hikers arrived as the afternoon wore on and dried their weather soaked clothes and shared stories at the wood fire.
I recovered a little bit of pride by beating Matt in a game of Scrabble while munching on a huckleberry chocolate bar and sipping huckleberry hot chocolate (bit of a theme here) by a hundred or so points. That has to equal a skunk in cribbage, right?
At day’s end there was still too much cloud cover for a sunset but there was a bit of break in the clouds looking south…
… and a lightening of the clouds to the west.
There was some hope for sun for the hike out on Tuesday.
I want to put in a few words for the concessionaire running the Granite Park Chalet — Belton Chalets.
The staff working the chalet over our visit, Clayton, Joan and Laurie, were hospitable, friendly, and conscientious. They helped all of the hikers who passed through as well as those of us spending a night or two feel comfortable and welcome. I also noted with much appreciation and great approval the great many Montana made food and drink items offered for sale at the Chalet — Montana made huckleberry flavored coffee, Montana made huckleberry hot chocolate, Montana made huckleberry chocolate Dream Bars, Montana made Monster Cookies, Montana made Happy Hiker Granola, etc.
It was colder in the cabin room that night. I ended up putting chemical hand/foot warmers in my wool socks to keep my toes from freezing. Burrrr!
Tuesday morning we breakfasted on Cup of Noodle soup (again) before loading up our packs with all of the excess food we had pre-ordered. Then we donned our poor weather gear and got ready to hit the trail…
… and bid goodbye to the Granite Park Chalet.
Again, Matt led the way.
Low lying clouds obscured the mountain tops and threatened snow or rain, but none fell on us and soon we were stripping off our outer layers of clothing.
The Chalet quickly dwindled in the distance as we trekked fairly quickly down the steep slope.
Just about a mile or so down the trail, Matt, walking about 15 yards ahead of me, rounded a corner and came face to face with a bear about 15-20 feet ahead of him on the trail. He yelled “Bear!” and carefully but quickly walked backward to me. I had the bear spray in hand with safety off immediately. I asked how far away it was and was surprised to hear how close it was. We spoke loudly for a couple minutes, unable to see if it was moving or not around that blind corner. We let out a few more shouts and blew loudly on our whistle. I yelled out, “Hello, bear! My name is Katie. What’s yours?” (old inside joke — Buck, at least, should get it). No answer. I took that to mean the trail was clear. We cautiously made our way around the corner. The foliage was thick enough that the bear could have been four feet off the trail and we wouldn’t see him and, in any event, we didn’t see him again.
Walking downhill didn’t rub my sore heels much, so, despite the fact that the thick moleskin a day hiking nurse had kindly gifted me with had immediately slipped out of place (remember to pack duct tape next time!), the pain in my feet was slight enough for me to enjoy the hike.
As we continued down the trail we came to the area burned in the fires of 2003.
The sun was shining on us but storms loomed further is the distance making for some dramatic lighting as the bleached skeletons of burned alpine firs stood sentinel along the trail.
The rain and snow were passing us by, the sun was shining on us, it was a beautiful day.
I’ll mention, though, that the trail is steep and rough and folks with poor knees might do well to avoid traveling it downhill (and it would be a lung buster going uphill).
We encountered a few other parties of hikers going both directions on the trail and let all that were headed the opposite direction know to make lots of noise as there was a bear in the vicinity.
We yielded the trail to two NPS mule strings hauling linens and propane to the Chalet and, presumably, Ranger Station and Fire Lookout, and retrieving food as the Chalet was being closed for the season this day.
From what we understand, the trio hiking about 200 yards ahead of us yielded to the wrong side (the uphill side) and one of the mules in the lead train got spooked and broke free of the string. That mule was still loose and walking between the two strings and still a bit skittish when they passed us.
It was a fairly fast trip out and soon we had arrived at our car for the drive home. My knees were feeling the steep trail by that time and my feet were grateful to be out of the boots. We drove to Drummond to meet my mom, aunt and cousins to retrieve Bridger from them and Matt enjoyed a rum and Pepsi at The Canyon bar while we waited.
It was a great trip (despite blisters and blizzards) and we look forward to repeating it. We’d like to make it an annual or semi-annual tradition.
My boots have been officially retired. They were good friends for many years and served admirably over many hikes but they’ve given their all and are no longer fit for duty.
Next time we’d like to go in July when the bear grass is flowering. Here’s hoping that the weather is clear enough to allow viewing of the Grinnell Glacier next time!
On Sunday, Sept 6, Matt and I hiked the Highline Trail of Glacier National Park to spend two nights at the Granite Park Chalet. We hit the trail at 2:30 on a cold, windy and rainy afternoon. It was not an auspicious start to the journey. We were definitely glad that we had decided not to force our eight year old son to go after seeing a forecast for 3 days of inclement weather (rain, snow and 20mph winds forecast). While it would have been doable, it might have put him off hiking for life.
The Highline Trail begins across Going to the Sun Road from the parking lot for the Logan Pass Visitor Center. At the very beginning the trail goes gently downhill, allowing hikers to get “warmed up” and enjoy the view. After a few hundred yards the trail gets more rugged as it is a ledge on the cliff of the Garden Wall. Along this stretch the Park Service has bolted a cable to the cliff wall encased in garden hose to provide a hand rail of sorts.
After this section of trail, the landscape opens up a bit, though we couldn’t see a whole lot of it on this day due to passing storm clouds.
In fact, from reading other descriptions of this trail, I believe that Haystack Butte is usually visible to the hiker at this point. It did not become visible to us for some time. Haystack Butte is a handy landmark for a hiker. As one passes “behind” it, one reaches the 3.4 mile mark of this 7.6 mile hike. If one has no means by which to gauge distance traveled (as we did not), the mileage of landmarks is a way by which to measure progress.
By the time we had traveled perhaps a mile and a half, I told Matt I needed to stop and check 
on my heels and see if I could get a bandaid on to prevent blisters from getting worse (didn’t have any moleskin - a mistake I won’t make again). Upon removing my boots, I found that it was too late for blister prevention. I already had open blisters that seemed to be, at that moment, about as big as Butte’s Berkely Pit. Well, I guess it’s time to replace my 5 years old and beyond worn out hiking boots… Hindsight 20/20. In the mean time, I had about 10 miles left to go of this trip — 6 on this day and 4 more on Tuesday. Matt did offer that we could bag it, but we had both been so looking forward to this trip for months. Mind over matter… On we went.
We’ve enjoyed a rather wet summer. The huckleberry crop this year is fantastic. Other wildflowers, often dried up by this time of the year, were still abundant. Among them were gallardia (pictured below), sulfur buckwheat, showy fleabane, heartleaf arnica, even a few paintbrush. The ferns to be found in Glacier National Park testify to the fact that this region receives far more precipitation than neighboring country.
Speaking of huckleberries, we also definitively observed the answer to the age-old question: a bear shits in the woods ONLY if a trail is not available. “What does that have to do with huckeleberries?” you might ask if you are among the “uninitiated.” Well… during huck season bear scat is purple huckleberry splatter (containing seemingly whole berries). It’s a rare stretch of trail that isn’t so “decorated.”
As we slowly approached Haystack Butte we could see white dots up on the mountains that the use of binoculars confirmed to be mountain goats. At about 2 miles we encountered our first close wildlife of the trip — a bachelor group of bighorn rams right on the trail. The group was comprised of mature rams, a couple with broomed horns, some “middle-agers” and also some youngsters. By the time we had reached them they had moved about 25-30 yards off the trail. 
As we continued on across the open park before Haystack Butte, I enjoyed looking back to see Mount Oberlin and Mount Cannon becoming more distant with each step of progress I took on my painful blisters.
Mount Reynolds, similarly, began to dwindle in the distance.
Low flying wind whipped clouds continued to obscure the mountain tops and brought to mind the dwarves’ song from The Hobbit, “far over the Misty Mountains cold…”
As we walked through and past slides of jumbled rock I’d hear, and occasionally catch a glimpse of, a pika. Unfortunately, none of them wanted to be photo models. This ground squirrel was far more cooperative.
At long last (remember, each step I took was painful) we had put Haystack Butte behind us and had passed the half-way point on this hike.
And what’s that I see? A break in the clouds?! Yes!!!
For a time the storm clouds above us made way for blue skies and cotton candy clouds. 
Having grown accustomed to the dim light under the storm clouds, the sudden sunshine seemed quite bright and seemed to almost glare off the white coats of the mountain goats that we came upon during this brief period of sunshine. 
The view looking back at Mount Reynolds, Mount Oberlin and Mount Cannon continued to be a treat.
The pikas continued to play their ventriloquist game and continue to elude my lens. However, I did spy a hoary marmot taking advantage of the break in the storms to sun himself on a rocky sofa. A faster hiker than myself (like Matt, for instance) might have missed him entirely as he was fairly well camouflaged.
Matt was on the lookout for bigger critters, too, as we’d been told that there was a griz in the vicinity. We never did see it, though…
The sunshine that we (and the marmot) enjoyed was short lived. While we remained, for the time, under the sun, to the north of us storm clouds glowered over the peaks.
While to the south of us storm clouds rolled in, though Lake McDonald appeared to be still seeing the sun.
By this time, looking back, besides affording a great vista, was quite satisfying. The mountains that once seemed so near now seemed quite distant.
And, looking ahead, we could see the Granite Park Chalet, though it was still about a mile and a half away.
The trail post at the junction with the Grinnell Glacier Overlook Trail marked the last leg — just .8 miles to go.
Still more beauty to behold on the way.
As the evening light waned, we reached the chalet.
I released my feet from the boots that had become torture chambers and emerged from our cabin room just in time to see the last light of the setting sun kiss the peaks of the mountains.
Then into the chalet we went to grab a bite to eat, meet our fellow overnighters, and listen to one of our hosts, Clayton, give a brief history of the chalet.
While once Granite Park Chalet was a full service destination, it is now a no frills hikers’ hostel. No frills means no electricity, no indoor plumbing (there are sinks but they are no longer plumbed), an outbuilding vault for potty, no insulation, propane lights in the main chalet building but no lights in the sleeping areas. Perfect!
Okay, maybe not quite perfect. The cold resulting from the lack of insulation (as Clayton put it, the indoor temperature is a match to the outdoor temperature — just out of the wind) didn’t bother us overmuch, as we had adequate warm clothing. However, the lack of insulation also meant that we could hear mere whispers from other guests in the same building at night. Ear plugs were available for those who wanted them. However, given the ideal location, the noise at night is no more than a minor inconvenience.
Hike details:
- distance: 7.6 miles
- elevation gain: 830 ft. (plus some ups and downs where elevation lost must be regained)
- beginning elevation: 6,540
- ending elevation: 7,280 ft.
In my next blog installment I’ll report on our day at the chalet and on our hike out via The Loop Trail.
Had a non-typical weekend trip to the Park.
Because we didn’t decide to go until Friday afternoon, I wasn’t packed and got a late start leaving Missoula. Mom and I got to Gardiner where Dad, his sister and her two granddaughters, his aunt and his cousin had arrived earlier in the day. The late night and the large group, including semi-elderly and younguns, resulted in a late start into the Park on Saturday.
We went south via Dunraven (which meant east from Mammoth) taking Blacktail Plateau along the way. I was hopeful the 3 bull moose would be in the neighborhood. No such luck. Furthermore, we missed the black bear that a car behind us spotted and heard about it when they caught up with us when we had stopped for some hawk watching.
Four year old Reannon loves “hot water,” so we spent some time at Mud Volcano. I spent some time with the cracks. 
Five year old Elisha loves bison so she loved seeing them close in the Hayden Valley.
Upon arriving at the Lake Hotel, at which we stopped mostly for the Long Island relatives to see it, we learned that the Christmas in Yellowstone boat parade was that night. So… we decided to watch the parade. That being the case we decided to eat at Lake. My aunt Laura made reservations. Unfortunately, our reservations ended up being for 9:45. Mom and I left the rest of the gang hanging out there and drove to Mary Bay where I know I can pick up cell signal to make plans with Stacy, who was driving from Billings to meet us in Gardiner. As long as we were “in the neighborhood,” we drove up to Lake Butte Overlook before returning to rejoin the rest of the gang.
We had some time before the parade, so we took a drive south as far as West Thumb. There was a six point bull elk there with a small harem. He was exhibiting early rut behavior — he let go with a few weak efforts at a bugle and then treated us to a couple full throated bugles. However, he tolerated the presence of a small bull so not really into full out rut quite yet.
We returned to Lake for the Parade and our VERY late dinner. 9:45 is late enough but I think it was 10:30 when we were finally seated. Got back to Gardiner around 2:30 AM. It’s a long drive that late from Lake to Gardiner. I had to stay alert driving (had to dodge bison and a coyote on the road) so I didn’t get right to sleep when we finally did get to Gardiner. That very late night, as you probably imagine, meant another late start on Sunday.
When we finally got moving on Sunday we again headed south via Dunraven, taking another unproductive shot at Blacktail Plateau along the way. Sunday morning there was a HUGE herd of cow and spike bull elk in Gardiner, resting peacefully but keeping the Rangers busy keeping fools far enough back. We were in three vehicles since Bridger and I would be heading home and the group had one more person with the addition of Stacy. Stacy, Mom and Dad turned back for Gardiner after a picnic at the Dunraven picnic area while the rest of us continued headed for Old Faithful.
Bridger, my cousin, and I stopped at a pull out a bit south of Mud Volcano to watch some bison rut action (a new experience for the Long Island cousin) and got quite the show. 5 bulls interested in the same cow resulted in chases, fights, stampedes of the whole herd, etc. Rather thrilling as they’d stampede around the parked car. 
I was impressed and pleased with how well the Park Service was keeping traffic moving along that stretch that could have been a monumental bison jam. They drove back and forth announcing over a speaker that stopping in driving lanes is not allowed when drivers stopped on the road and telling drivers to use pull outs if they wanted to stop. When we left there and went further south they had personnel on foot waving traffic along or urging them to use pullouts and not allowing a jam to form. With all the additional traffic due to the Madison-Norris section being closed, that was very necessary, well done and much appreciated.
We continued to Old Faithful before Bridger and I left the rest of the gang and headed for the West gate and home. Along the Firehole there were a few small groups of cow elk and along the Madison, near the 7 Mile Bridge, a harem of about 10 with a bull that looked respectable but it was so late and I had a long drive home I kept driving. The rut is getting started!
The Obama administration’s plan for “health care reform” sucks and the attack on the First Amendment by our president sucks worse!
Flag that!
We’ve been traveling for 11 days (trip report to come) and not paying much attention to the news. When my husband called me this afternoon while I was out to lunch to ask if I’d yet heard about the Obama administration’s request that Americans send email to the White House to report those “spreading disinformation” about the President’s proposal for health care reform, I thought surely he’d just heard the claims of conspiracy theory whackos. It was too ridiculous — beyond belief that such a thing would happen in the United States of America, I thought. Silencing dissenters is a tactic of totalitarian regimes, not a tactic to be employed by any President of the United States!
I returned to work, launched my browser and saw news headlines and felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. It’s true!
This Presidential term can’t end soon enough!
(I’m certain this is the first time I’ve used the word “sucks” in print.)
The topic of this entry is not the usual fare here at Big Sky County Reports but it’s a topic that has been on my mind.
There has been much in the news the last few days about an event that took place in an American city. The story goes like this:
A woman witnessed a break-in occurring at her neighbor’s house. As we would all hope our neighbor would do in such a circumstance, she called the police. As we would all hope would be the case if our home were being burglarized, the police responded. Upon arriving, the police discovered a burglary suspect in the home. The suspect claimed to be the home owner. The police asked to see the suspect’s identification. The suspect refused and became verbally combative. At this point the suspect’s identity was unknown as he had not displayed identification. The man stridently claimed to be the home owner, but the police were unable to determine the validity of that claim because the man refused to display identification. As a verbal altercation continued, the police placed the unknown suspect under arrest and handcuffed him.
That sounds about like what I would hope and expect would happen if my home were broken into. I would hope that the police would not take a suspected burglar’s claim to be the home owner at face value if a burglar in my home made such a claim.
Well, in the story so much in the recent news it turns out that the man who refused to identify himself, and thus left the police no choice but to consider him to be a suspect, is a prominent Harvard professor by the name of Henry Louis Gates Jr. This incident took place in Cambridge, MA.
Instead of thanking the police department for responding to a suspected break-in at his home to protect his property and perhaps even his person, Gates is now attacking the police in the media and threatening legal action. He claims racial profiling. What?!
The police responded to a report of a burglary in progress. They confronted the suspect at the scene. What in the world does racial profiling have to do with it? They didn’t pull over a random black man and accuse him of a crime, they confronted the subject at the scene of what had been reported to them as a crime in progress. Due to his own actions, that subject remained unidentified, leaving them few options.
I don’t understand it. I don’t understand his behavior and I don’t understand why we as Americans are playing along with him playing the race card (or so it seems). Sure, I would expect the sensationalism loving media to run with it initially, but I would expect some voices of reason to be heard by now. That doesn’t seem to be happening.
Had professor Gates simply displayed identification this could have been over in 15 minutes and not news worthy. I don’t think that it is particularly news worthy in any event, and certainly not cause for such a big brouhaha. It seems a big issue is being made of a non-issue to me.
Today President Obama said “the Cambridge police acted stupidly in arresting somebody when there was already proof that they were in their own home.” How was it proven that he was in his own home given that he refused to present identification? Did I miss something? (While it is irrelelvent, I also find myself wondering why our President is using plural words in reference to one man.)
It is reported that Gates shouted at the policemen “You don’t know who you’re messing with.” I ask: whose fault is that? That the policemen didn’t know his identity was due to his refusal to present identification.
Perhaps someone wants to explain it to me? This blog is configured to allow comments. To keep spammers from using the comment field, comments must be approved for publication. If you want to explain it to me, please comment. The comment button is under the title of this entry. If topical comments are received, even if they take a position contrary to mine, I will allow them to be posted as long as they adhere to the rules of civil discourse and do not contain bigotry or words intended to incite hate. If you want to espouse such beliefs please exercise your right to free speech on your own blog. I’m interested in discussion but not willing to give bigotry a forum “in my house.”
Dad, Bridger, Winter (standard poodle) and I took a ride in Dad’s 1964 Willy’s Jeep up to the top of Olson Mountain yesterday. A welcoming committee of Rocky Mountain bighorn rams greeted us at the top.
We were less pleased to see a plume of smoke rising to the north of us. Wild fires in Montana in July are fairly inevitable and serve an important ecological role but it is, nonetheless, always a disappointment to see the start of fire season. The smoke we were seeing was from the Bielenburg Fire, which was initially sparked by lightening about a week ago. At that time a bit of smoke was seen and the Dillon Interagency Dispatch Center searched for the fire which wasn’t found until it flared up yesterday.
For more on the Beilenburg Fire: http://www.kpax.com/Global/story.asp?S=10753093
On both the way there and the way back, Dad’s route included a road that has recently been gated at both ends. The gates are just wide enough for an ATV to pass with room to spare. Dad’s Jeep squeaks through with no room to spare. Bridger thinks squeezing through is a hoot.
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