Big Sky Country

I’m a big-time slacker. I have not made a post since early September! So, what have I been up to? Well, I enjoyed a September trip to Yellowstone. The elk were in rut at that time. My sister and I enjoyed watching a herd of elk with 20-30 cows and about 15 bulls, of which 6 where 5×5 or bigger, before sunrise on Saturday morning.  No bull had yet established dominance.  But a battle soon commenced which changed that.

Who is your money on?

If you said the bull on the left, you are right!

We found a ‘lil red doggie somewhat behind his classmates who had already darkened with maturity.  Only his head had darkened.  What a character!

In the same herd was a young bull emulating the big boys, “sniffing” at a cow.

Overall, though, that Saturday was pretty quiet.

On Sunday, my travel companion was my son.  On Saturday, while with his grandparents and cousins, he had found itty bitty frogs at Yellowstone Lake.  He was excited to return there to show me.  Being small and very well camouflaged, they were hard to spot.

(he was gently treated and promptly returned to the water)

We also enjoyed watching a mousing coyote in the Hayden Valley before turning homeward bound.

We were in for one last treat on our way home:

As fall progressed, I enjoyed more elk rut action at the National Bison Range.

I also enjoyed the fall scenery at the National Bison Range.

I enjoyed some autumn lunch-time walks around Missoula, too.

On Veteran’s Day I, rather appropriately, I felt, saw this pair of bald eagles for the first time.  I’ve seen them regularly in the same spot since.

I enjoyed a wonderful Christmas with the family and managed to get out one afternoon to check out the bighorn sheep herd that often winters west of Anaconda.

I’ve made a few birding trips to the Lee Metcalf National Wildlife Refuge, since the new year started, to get my year bird list going.

On one of those trips I was surprised to encounter a family of five raccoons active in the afternoon.

And, finally, last weekend I made a trip to Polson where, at that time, there were 6 snowy owls hanging out in a housing subdivision.  I’ve heard since that there are now 15 in the area.

I can’t help but wonder if there is a wizard or witch in the subdivision in Polson who has recently turned 11 and whose muggle guardians are trying to block owl post… The snowies there seem determined to make their delivery — and their numbers are increasing!

So that gets me pretty much caught up, as a skim over of the last few months.

I hope to return to Polson this Sunday to see if I can find any owls that want to model for pretty pictures.   Last Sunday there were five roosting on roofs and one roosting on a water tank  and none being active or photogenic.  They got active after sunset when the light was too poor for photography.  I’m hoping for better luck this week.

The snowy owl irruption of winter 2011-2012 is bringing snowy owls to places they are seldom seen.  While it’s not unusual to find a snowy owl or two around Polson-Pablo in winter, 15 in a subdivision is a most unusual occurrence.

More info on this irruption in this article (photos in this article were captured by my friend, Max Waugh), and in this great video.

So, I forgot to mention in my last entry about our hike to Granite Park Chalet in the preceding days, that as I made camp at the St. Mary Campground on Friday night, I felt like I’d “come home” to my “home away from home.”  The Chalet is comfortable enough, but I spend just enough time in my tent that it feels friendly and familiar – a bit like home.  I was looking forward to sleeping in my home away from home, not to mention with my CPAP machine, Friday night.  What’s more, as I showed you in yesterday’s post, the “pink at night” sky promised delight to come.

While I had hoped to have lovely fluffy pink clouds over Wild Goose Island on St. Mary Lake Saturday morning, I awoke to a blue bird day — absolutely cloudless.  I quickly packed up and hit the road, in a hurry to get to the Bowman Lake Campground.  During the preceding few days of foul weather, the Park was sparsely populated, but the arrival of beautiful weather and Labor Day Weekend was sure to bring in competition for campground sites.  I figured I could afford a stop at the Polebridge Mercantile for baked goodies, though.  While all of the goodies are great, I personally recommend the spinach feta rolls and the huckleberry bearclaws.  YUM!

I arrived at Bowman Lake to find that I had succeeded in beating the crowds.  I selected a site, set up my “home away from home” to insure my site couldn’t be mistaken for an unoccupied site, and headed out again.  I continued up the North Fork Rd to Kintla Lake.  It’s only 21 road miles from Bowman Lake to Kintla Lake (or 15 miles from the turn off the main road onto the Bowman Lake Road), but slow going on the rough road makes it seem further.

I took my time, enjoying that drive, and the views of Big Prairie, Round Prairie and the Livingston Mountain Range.  A few whispy clouds even made appearances for the first time that day — just enough to break up the blue a bit.

 

I was glad I had not made camp at Kintla Lake.  That extra fifteen miles would add about an hour to travel time each direction each day.  I wouldn’t want to drive that road repeatedly in a passenger car, for sure.  I recalled that from my last visit to this area and had made the selection of which vehicle to use accordingly and was driving our Pathfinder.  However, if a person were just going to make camp and remain there, Kintla Lake would be a lovely place to spend a few days.  Well…  maybe.  The lake is lovely.  The campground is less so.  The sites have no trees between them, just logs to demark site borders.  It kinda looks like a concentration camp, albeit one with a great view. The perfectly clear water with the colorful pebbled lake bottom is wonderful.

 

After leaving Kintla Lake, I slowly made my way toward Columbia Falls for a grocery run — timed such that I would be able to listen to part of the Montana Grizzlies vs. Tennessee Volunteers game, or so I thought (my best laid plans were busted by a weather delay in Knoxville).  I had never driven the Inside North Fork Road, so I took that route.  It was a great drive through both green forest, and forest burned several years ago, as well as areas of willows.   If it had not been smack dab in the middle of the afternoon, I expect it would have been a great road from which to see wildlife.  The 30 miles from where I got on that road between just north of Polebridge to where it comes out at Fish Creek took me an hour and a half.  The road is moderately rough, steep and windy — nothing that poses any problems, just slow going.

All that driving chewed up the hours.  By the time I got back to Bowman Lake I had time to cook and eat dinner then enjoy sitting on the shore of Bowman Lake until “the stars were out, and they danced about” (back to Robert Service quotes).

What a lovely scene to have burned into the retinas when one lays one’s head on the pillow and drifts off to sleep…

The next morning, when I stepped out of the tent, I found my legs, feet, and especially the heel with which I’ve been having plantar fasciitis trouble, had stiffened up so much that I limped like a cripple.  I figured a slow, slow walk up the Hidden Lake Overlook Trail would be a good way to rather gently stretch things out again.

I was in for a treat on the way.  Driving on the ‘main’ North Fork Road, nearing the junction, I started seeing occasional spider webs way up in the tree tops.  Dozens of them.  Glittering with dew.  Eventually I was able to find some that were close enough to photograph with a 400mm focal length — not the way one would usually shot spider webs, but I tried to make it work.

The “hike” to the Hidden Lake Overlook is an easy 3 mile round trip hike, along boardwalk much of the way.  It is often as crowded as a shopping mall during Christmas shopping season, but the views are nice and mountain goats are pretty much guaranteed.  This lovely Sunday morning it did not disappoint on any of those counts.

As was the case along the Highline Trail, wild flowers that are usually long gone by this time of year were abundant.

The ever-present mountain goats were, as ever, present.

Having stretched out the kinks, and feeling fine, I thought perhaps I’d attempt to photograph star trails at Bowman Lake that night.  Alas, I had not planned on doing so.  I had neither a shutter remote nor the camera software for using the camera-pc connection installed, so I was stymied.  Nonetheless, I enjoyed watching as late returning kayakers returned to camp and a bit of lake shore stargazing while enjoying a couple beers.

When I gathered up my gear to head back to my campsite I was startled when I turned on my headlamp to find that a fox had “snuck up” on me in the dark.  It was just a few feet away when I turned on my headlamp.

The next morning found me homeward bound.  I looked for the spiderwebs.  I knew where they were, but was unable to find them again.  I had better luck finding huckleberry goodies at the Huckleberry Patch and Flathead cherries from a roadside stand on my way home.

more photos here:  http://www.bigskycountry.net/glacier_sept_2011

When we made our first (well, first as a couple and my first) trip to Granite Park Chalet in 2009, we thought we had poor weather for the trip.  We were wrong.  Even the wintery weather and poor visibility of the day we spent at the Chalet in 2009, while colder (albeit drier), was more conducive to sight seeing than what we experienced this year.

My husband and I enjoyed the drive to Kalispell on Tuesday evening, being treated to a fantastic sunset over Flathead Lake.

 

However, when we drove up Going to the Sun Road on Wednesday morning, the view was considerably less enjoyable.

 

It didn’t bode well for a 7.6 mile hike.  Were it not for the fact that we had made and paid for our reservations 9 months ago, we wouldn’t have chosen to take a hike on this day.  Circumstances being what they were, however, we proceeded with our plans.

We drove both vehicles over Logan Pass to park one at the bottom of the Swiftcurrent Trailhead in the Many Glacier area of the Park.  My husband found being unable to see the edge of the road in the fog to be disconcerting.  That didn’t bother me, but being unable to see construction workers in the one-lane construction zone, and worrying that they’d appear out of no where right in front of me (which happened), spooked me.

After leaving one car at Swiftcurrent, we drove back up to the Logan Pass Visitor Center Parking Lot, where we waited for the other members of our party – my brother-in-law and sister-in-law.  Visibility remained short.

We hit the trail in the fog.

Walking the trail along the Garden Wall was like walking in a cloud.

Past the Garden Wall, however, the clouds lifted, patches of sky became visible, and the sun was peaking through holes in the cloud ceiling.  I became optimistic that perhaps conditions were going to improve.

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We strolled along, marveling at the wildflowers still in bloom that are usually long gone by this time of year.

During this time I actually complained of being too hot.  Repeatedly.  I removed my hooded sweatshirt from beneath my poncho and hung it on the outside of my backpack (yes, I can hear you laughing at that stupidity).  I still complained of being hot.

That was short lived.  Before long, a darkening sky and distant rumbles of thunder replaced the feeling of optimism with an ominous feeling.  The storm reached us before we reached Haystack Butte.  Lightening cracked above us, too close for comfort, thunder boomed, and we were pelted with hail and heavy rain.  We cowered against and between glacial boulders but were, nonetheless, soaked.  Then the wind picked up.  I told the others I wasn’t too hot anymore.  My brother-in-law dryly replied “I believe you.”

Following that storm, we had a respite of sun that lasted long enough to see us to the other side of Haystack Butte, the half-way point of the hike, but that was the last break in the weather we would enjoy.  More lightening, thunder, rain and hail followed.  By this time I had fallen far behind the rest of the group and so I was unable to see my husband when the scary sound of a rock slide that I could hear, but not see, poured into my ears.  Fortunately my brother-in-law and sister-in-law had passed the point where the slide occurred and my husband had not yet reached it, having stopped to wait for me.  When I caught up, we rushed through the slide area.

My camera remained beneath my poncho after that point for protection, in so much as was possible in the conditions, from the rain.  We reached the Granite Park Chalet thoroughly soaked and chilled to find that we had little in the way of dry clothing in our packs as well.  That cotton hooded sweatshirt hanging from my backpack had absorbed so much water it weighed about a hundred pounds by that time.  I had no dry shirts.  My husband and brother-in-law each loaned me one.  Thanks, guys!

The following morning the snowline was a couple hundred feet above us and the early morning views of the fresh snow through breaks in the fog were beautiful.

However, by mid-morning we were socked in fog and could no longer see more than 50 yards — often less.

We played cribbage and read in the Chalet, which I found relaxing and enjoyable, even though I didn’t win a single game.  Grrr….

Dave, one of the much appreciated chalet hosts, commented it was the quietest day they had had the chalet all season, with few day hikers and 4 reservation cancellations — unheard of!

Late in the afternoon the cloud ceiling lifted enough that my brother-in-law ventured out for a trip up to Swiftcurrent Pass, but no one else was motivated to join him.  By evening the cloud ceiling had lifted considerably and was starting to break up, promising a better day to follow.

 

Oh!  And what a glorious morning it was!!!!

After I enjoyed that wonderful pre-dawn show, I joined the rest of the crew, who had risen a bit later than me, in the Chalet for breakfast.  Then we packed up to head out.  There had been some debate about which trail to take out.  We had ruled out Swiftcurrent Trail as being too steep for the way we were feeling (my sister-in-law was having knee trouble and I was having plantar fasciitis trouble) and also because, even if we had wanted to hike it out, and despite our planning in leaving a vehicle at the Swiftcurrent Trailhead, that vehicle was useless.  You see, my husband had had a brain fart and tossed the keys for that vehicle into the glove box of the vehicle we left at Logan Pass.  Oops.  Oh well…  no one really wanted to hike out that way at that point anyway.

My husband had initially favored the shortest route, the Loop, but had come to decide by that time that he was open to the Highline Trail.  I didn’t want anyone hiking alone, so I was going to do whatever he did.  I think he was still undecided.  However, the decision was made for us when the Granite Park Ranger informed everyone who had not yet hit a trail that the Highline Trail had been closed due to a rock slide just 1/4 mile from the opposite end of the trail.  So, down the Loop we headed.  As always, I began the hike by testing the access and speed to draw my bear spray.  I found it stuck in the holster.  I had to wrestle it out with two hands.  My poncho has a kangaroo pouch so I put it there for easy access and yelled at my husband to check his, too.

As it turns out, while I may have not wanted anyone to be alone, particularly on that trail that we knew, from the Ranger, was being used by several grizzlies, I ended up hiking alone as my pace was slower than that of the others who would draw ahead of me and periodically stop for me to catch up.  The Loop is a twisty curvy trail with sections where there is thick vegetation on both sides where, as we experienced before, one can come around a curve in the trail and come face to face with a bear.  That being the case, and not wanting to startled a bear, I was making plenty of noise so they would hear me coming and move off.  I recited Robert Service poetry – The Cremation of Sam McGee and The Shooting of Dan McGrew.  I sang the University of Montana Fight Song (stopping before the last line “from the tummy of the grizzly bear”).  I was sure that I had scared off anything with ears.  Certainly my traveling companions had moved out of earshot.

As I passed through the burn areas I paused a few times to enjoy the bleached skeleton trees (I do enjoy them) and to examine grizzly skat — some old, some recent.

Then…  I rounded a corner to find myself 10-15 yards away from a grizzly bear.  He was just a couple feet off the trail.  I yanked my bear spray out of the kangaroo pouch and removed the safety, just in case, while backing up and yelling “GRIZZLY!” to alert others who might be in ear shot (I didn’t know how far ahead of me my husband and in-laws were).   When I backed up back around the bend, I was unable to see the griz but yelled “GO AWAY, BEAR!”  Then, I cautiously peaked back around the curve.  I couldn’t see the griz but knew he was still very near by but apparently heeding my request and going away — he wasn’t coming toward me, in any event.  I heard people on the trail below me but couldn’t see them, as they were around the next bend.  I was afraid that either they would push the griz at me or I’d push it at them.  I yelled out “I can hear you coming up the trail but can’t see you…  There is a grizzly bear between us!”  They yelled back “THANK YOU!”  That group and I each cautiously proceeded around curves until we could see each other.  They were about 100 yards down trail.  I had just glimpsed the griz moving out of sight up hill from the trail, disappearing into the vegetation, but still only about 50 yards away.  When that party and I came together, we stopped and chatted for a couple minutes.  I warned the hikers I met going the opposite direction to be alert and make lots of noise.  The rest of the hike was completed without further event.  .

Since we had left no vehicles at the bottom of the Loop trailhead, we caught the shuttle to return to Logan Pass then headed over the pass and then to the Swiftcurrent Trailhead to pick up the car.  At Swiftcurrent I said goodbye to my husband, brother-in-law and sister-in-law who were returning home while I was staying in the Park for the rest of the weekend.  I enjoyed a shower at the Swiftcurrent Inn before heading for the Two Medicine area for a visit to Running Eagle Fall.

On my way back to St. Mary Campground, where I had reservations for that night, I stopped for ice and food for the night, then made an early camp.  As the sun set, the sky was lit with pink and lavender and the crescent moon peaked through.

I hoped the fluffy clouds would stick around to pink up again at sunrise over Wild Goose Island but I woke to an absolutely cloudless blue bird day.  More on that, and the rest of the weekend, in the next installment…

More photos from the trip (including from the days to come) are here: http://www.bigskycountry.net/glacier_sept_2011

Last Wednesday afternoon, at the conclusion of our semi-annual family reunion, which was held this year at the Double Arrow Resort in Seeley Lake, a group of 17 family members, including my husband, my son and myself, headed north to the Flathead and Glacier National Park.  Following an obligatory lunch at Moose’s Pizza in Kalispell, a small subset of that group went into Glacier National Park for the evening.  As we’d be heading up Going to the Sun the following day, I guided the group up the North Fork on that evening. I was surprised and a bit dismayed, upon our arrival on the road leading into Polebridge, to see that several of the signs that I have chuckled over (but heeded!) in years past are no longer present, such as these:

Thankfully, the most important sign remains.

Another minor disappointment was the outhouse behind the Polebridge Mercantile. In years past it was a delightful outhouse. Truly.  It was clean, it had a nice seat, its “aroma” was as pleasant as is possible for a primitive outhouse, and, if you forgot to take reading material in with you, you could pull a book from the nicely book-lined shelf. If you didn’t want to leave the book behind, you could drop some cash in a jar and take the book with you. If you were there in years gone by, you know of what I speak.  It’s not that way anymore.  Well, the books are there — in a box, no longer shelved, and the jar is there, but it’s not the same. The state of the outhouse has declined severely. Yes, such things can disappoint me. I was afraid that my relatives would find it downright appalling, so I suggested they use the facilities at the bar, instead. I still dropped a couple bucks in the jar for the use of the facility. It is, after all, an expense for the Merc.

The bakery at the Polebridge Mercantile, however, did not disappoint. It was as wonderfully stocked with cookies and rolls as always. The kids left stocked with cookies and I left stocked with savory rolls.  The dinner hour was approaching and the picnic tables in front of the bar/restaurant were filling up.  I’ve heard good things but have not yet dined there.  That’s a lapse that will have to be remedied in the near future.

After our stop in Polebridge, we headed up to Big Prairie.  Big Prairie is the epitome of Big Sky Country — a wide open high country park with the Livingston Mountain Range as backdrop.

We stopped near the McCarthy Homestead.

Can you imagine having this scene for a front yard?

 

The McCarthy Homestead Cabin is a remnant of early settlement in what would become Glacier National Park. Jeremiah McCarthy built the log homestead in the North Fork area in 1908 after completion of the North Fork Road and passage of the Forest Homestead Act.

The cabin is the only representative of pre-1910 homesteading activity on the west side of the Continental Divide in Glacier. During the 1930s a Civilian Conservation Corps camp was built nearby. At about the same time, the cabin, and others nearby, transitioned from homesteading inholdings to summer cabins for their owners. In the 1950s some of the CCC structures were relocated to the vicinity of the cabin. The National Park Service purchased the property in 1970.

source:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/McCarthy_Homestead_Cabin

Time and the gas supply in one of the cars was running short, so we turned around after spending a bit of time in the vicinity of the McCarthy Homestead.  We didn’t make it up to Kintla or Bowman Lakes.  I’m thinking a trip to the lakes and dinner in Polebridge soon sounds like a great idea.

The following morning, 17 people in 5 cars headed into the Park.  As several people were interested in a hike and the trails further up the pass are still under several feet of snow, I had suggested a stop at Avalanche where those who were only interested in a short walk could do the Trail of the Cedars while those who wanted a longer hike could continue up to Avalanche Lake.  Along the way, some of the cars (including mine) made several stops along McDonald Creek.  When I was there last month, a cold wet spring was still holding court.  Summer has now arrived.

The trail up to Avalanche Lake starts at Avalanche Gorge and parallels the gorge for the first hundred yards or so.

Once past the gorge, the trail passes through an old growth cedar and hemlock forest, littered with fallen trees (the shallow root system of those huge trees that is revealed when the trees are knocked over by wind always astounds me),  moss covered boulders, ferns and other moist forest loving plants.

I enjoyed the “ah!” moment when the cousins with whom I was hiking got their first look of Avalanche Lake.  Believe it or not, this was my first trip to Avalanche Lake as well.  I was even a bit relieved that the “prize” at the end of the trail was a good one.  It’s not that I was truly worried, having seen photos and whatnot, but…

We enjoyed a picnic lunch at the lake and some time to just sit back and enjoy the view.

I would have wished for a nicer sky, but we can’t get everything we want, I guess. Nonetheless, I think we could have enjoyed staying even longer, but we knew we were lagging far behind the rest of the hikers and had best get moving.

When we arrived back at the parking lot we found a note from my husband informing us that the rest of the group, having tired of waiting for us (and I remain baffled as to why they did so at all) had gone up to Logan Pass.  We drove up Going to the Sun Road to join them there at the Visitor Center.  We had to stop for two short construction zones.  Glacier is not a bad place to be forced to sit on the road waiting for your turn for the singe lane.  There is always something to look at.

It was dark, sleeting and windy when we arrived at Logan Pass so I never even took my camera out of the car.  We rearranged vehicle occupants and head south for Missoula, stopping at Ricciardis on Finley Point of Flathead Lake for dinner.  They weren’t able to seat a party of 17, but could accommodate 4 tables of 4-5 people.  Whoohoo!  A nice dinner, with great company, and with the Singing Sons of Beaches serenading the diners was a great way to cap off the day.

More photos from the trip here:  http://www.bigskycountry.net/glacier_july2011

For 24 years, my cousin, Tim Ryan (Rouillier) has put on a benefit for the Mission Valley Scholarship Fund.  It’s always a great event, but this year was especially so, as he was joined by the Mission Mountain Wood Band, with whom he has been touring and with whom he has just recorded an album, “Reboot”.  What is better than seeing the Mission Mountain Wood Band against the backdrop of the Mission Mountains?

 

This year Montana Grizzlies fans were treated to a visit from beloved former Grizzly football coach (now Wyoming coach), Joe Glenn, who started off the festivities by leading the crowd in singing “Up With Montana.”  Ah, but it was good to see Coach Glenn sporting Griz colors and singing our fight song!  There were some Bobcat fans whining that he didn’t sing their song, too.  Well…  ummm…   Yeah.

My little man was glad to see his cousins.

Watching our favorite “Fancy Nancy” fan and her joyful dancing was a delight to all.

A few concert pics:

Tim singin’ bout where there’s “liquor up front, poker in the rear.”

 

Rob Quist on banjo & Christian Johnson on mandolin.

 

Tim Ryan and Christian Johnson jamming out on to Days of Gold (my favorite song on the new album).

 

Greg Reichenberg, Rob Quist & Steve Riddle

 

Even a brief hiccup with the sound system didn’t stop the fun.  Christian Johnson just “signed” right through it.

There are a few more photos here:  http://www.bigskycountry.net/timryan_missionvalleyscholarship_24thannual

 

 

 

 

I’ve been making trips up to Packer Meadows periodically for the last 4 weeks or so to check on the camas bloom.  When last I visited a week and half ago, only a handful of camas had bloomed.   When I arrived last night, I found that, as Captain Meriwether Lewis noted in his journal, “”the quawmash is now in blume.”

“the quawmash is now in blume
and from the colour of its bloom at
a short distance it resembles lakes
of fine clear water, so complete is
this deseption that on first sight I
could have swoarn it was water.”

So said Captain Meriwether Lewis on June 12, 1806. He also noted that “Musquetoes our old companions have become very troublesome.”

Note that the camas was in bloom on June 12 in 1806. This year it bloomed about 4 weeks behind that pace.

The mosquitoes remain very troublesome — that much hasn’t changed at all in 200 years. When I felt weak from blood loss there was enough daylight left that I decided to see if Elk Meadows Road was passable through. A week and a half ago it most definitely was not as you might recall if you read my “Suddenly Summer” blog post last week.

As I drove along, I seemed to be stopping about every 15 yards to enjoy the abundant beargrass, silvery lupine, rosy paintbrush, penstemon, American bistort, sitka valerian, bog orchid, and probably several other wildflowers that I am forgetting. There is truly a bumper crop of beargrass.

I became optimistic that the I’d be able to make it through to Lily Lake, having encountered no major snow (just little patches) up to this point. I continued to amble along, and continued to “stop and smell the roses.”

I made so many stops that the sun had already set when I was still a mile or two away from Lily Lake. The alpenglow on the peaks made me stop again.

Just past that point I encountered snow. I crossed my fingers that I’d be able to make it to Lily Lake.  I made it, and while I had missed the setting of the sun, I was still in for a treat.

I had left home with the hopes of finding good camas. I got that… and then some! What a wonderful evening drive it was!

I left Lily Lake with my fingers still crossed that I’d be able to continue eastbound — the shorter distance to home — instead of having to turn around and go back the long way. I did hit more snow as well as fallen trees but I was able to skirt around and make it through.

more photos from the evening here: http://www.bigskycountry.net/packermeadows_lilylake

Once again I celebrated Independence Day by spending the day as a spectator guest at the Annual Arlee Celebration powwow in Arlee, Montana, on the Flathead Reservation.

The powwow’s Fourth of July roots go back to the late 1800s, when the reservation’s federal Indian agent told the tribes here that such celebrations were being permanently banned.

It was, the agent explained, time for the Indians to walk away from their traditions and join white society.

So the local Indians told the agent that instead of a powwow, they would throw a party to honor America’s birthday.

“The chief was kind of smart,” Arlee says. “He convinced the agent they were celebrating the Fourth of July.”

In reality, it was the first Arlee Powwow.

A tradition was established with that first Arlee Celebration that is going strong to this day as the 113th Annual Arlee Celebration is held.  Over the years, the dances and the regalia have changed as new traditions have been added but the spirit of tradition remains solid.  One of these years I need to go on Old Style Day to see the traditional dances of the Salish People.  Gaining an understanding of the stick game and other traditional games played at the Celebration is also on my to-do list.

On the Fourth of July, the dance events begin with the Snake Dance.

The Snake Dance was done to begin a War Dance.  It was led by a chosen man who gathered the dancers at a designated spot, generally at the camp of the Chief of the celebration.  The dancers danced in a single file towards the dance pavilion with the leader weaving and doubling back in in the fashion of a snake.  The drummers and singers followed the group singing the Snake Dance song.

~Johnny Arlee, Over a Century of Moving to the Drum (also available online at Amazon & Barnes & Noble if you want a copy and ordering via paper isn’t your thing)

Following the Snake Dance (this year, after a few inter-tribal dances) is the Veterans’ Dance.  All Veterans, from all Nations and nationalities, are encouraged to participate in this dance, that they may be honored and thanked for their sacrifices.  They are led into the pavilion by the flag bearer.  Prayers of thanks are spoken (first in Salish, then in English).

After the Veteran’s Dance, inter-tribal and competition dances are held.  Among the competition dances are Traditional, Fancy (Fancy Shawl), Grass, and Jingle.  Each dance has it’s own character.  Contests are broken up into age brackets.  The participating drums (each drum is a group of 5 or more drummers & singers) take turns drumming & singing with the turn passing to the next drum with each song.  The drumming and singing penetrate every sense.

Among the entrants in the teen brackets were this beautiful teen Fancy dancer, her beautiful face barely revealing the effort to remain graceful as a butterfly in the second dance as heat and fatigue charge their due, and this handsome Traditional dancer, whose movements and posture tell a story.

I am always amazed the level of expertise and artistry that is displayed in the ceremonial regalia, from traditional leather, seashells, elk ivory, beads and feathers of traditional regalia to the bright colors, sequins and appliqué designs of more modern regalia such as that worn by Fancy Dancers.

 

Regarding the Salish language:

The Salish language is currently spoken by less than 50 people, most of whom are over 75 years old. There are no first language fluent Salish speakers under 50.

~Nkwusm Salish Language Institute

If you would like to make a contribution to help support Salish language education, you can visit the website of the Nkwusm Salish Language Institute to make a donation or to purchase merchandise.  I’m partial to the Griz Wear (Go Griz!) but other great items are offered as well, including books, bedspreads, bags, etc.

If you’d like to see more of my photos from the 113th Annual Arlee Celebration, you can find them here:  http://www.bigskycountry.net/113th_arlee_celebration

Winter came early to Big Sky Country last year.  Winter lingered long this year.  Spring was wet and gray but not without a few treats. For example, I was surprised to spy a bobcat spying on me at the National Bison Range on June 8.

Spring babies and tender moments are always a treat, too.

Spring bear activity, such as that my sister and I watched on June 14 when a young male was working on making advances on a mama with her second year cub still in tow (though not, we figured, for much longer), makes the days seem brighter.

Yet, those hours of sun were few and far between and it remained cool. The yearning for blue skies, sunshine and warm weather grew stronger by the day.

Then…  Summer Solstice.   Mother Nature flipped a switch and suddenly, it is summer in Big Sky Country!  Snow is still deep in the mountains, but it is melting fast now.   The deep slowly melting snow and the wet spring have made for a lavish beginning to summer with deep green and a wealth of wild flowers.

And the treats keep coming. When my mom and I visited the Bison Range last Friday, the theme of the evening was “there’s another one” as we saw four black bears in quick succession one after another. The freshness of spring continues with new life.

But clearer skies offer additional treats.

A trip out on the Bitterroot trail to check the status of the bitterroot bloom showed that the bitterroots, being several weeks “behind schedule,” are still just tight buds. Maybe this weekend…

Saturday afternoon Mom and I had a few hours to spare so I suggested a trip up to Packer Meadows to check on the camas bloom. We found the first bloomers. On Saturday afternoon there were only a couple dozen camas flowers blossomed out. Soon there will be thousands. It is striking that by the same time last year instead of finding the first bloomers, I was seeking out the last bloomers as most of the camas was shot by this time last year. The snow at Packer Meadows is waist high in places.

We didn’t have time to see if Elk Meadows road is passable from Packer Meadows back down to the Lewis & Clark Highway (aka US Highway 12) that afternoon, so I returned on Sunday afternoon to find out. I found it is not. I swung back around and headed up the road from the opposite end to see if I could make it up to Lily Lake. I made it far enough up the mountain to become optimistic of a glorious sunset at Lily Lake before coming around a curve to discover deep, impassable snow. The snow line is right around the MT/ID border. Right at snow line, and for a couple hundred feet below snow line, there is a fantastic crop of trillium and western meadow rue to be found on wet ground where the snow has only recently melted.

At lower elevations, bear grass is blooming.

I look forward to checking the bitterroot bloom on the Bitterroot Trail at the National Bison Range and the camas bloom at Packer Meadows again this weekend. Given how deep the snow was, I don’t anticipate making it to Lily Lake for sunset for a couple more weeks. I can’t help but wonder what other treats I’ll enjoy between then and now.

Friday night, while having a few cocktails with friends, I decided to load up the car in the morning and head north to Glacier. By the time I got moving (remember those cocktails the night before), loaded the car, stopped for groceries and hit the road it was 11:30. It takes about three hours to get from Lolo to West Glacier. However, as Going to the Sun Road is not open, I drove around the Park to enter at St. Mary. I don’t think I fully appreciated, before, just how long it takes to go around. It was 4:00 or thereabouts when I finally entered the Park at St. Mary. I passed through a number of small storms with breaks of sun in between. Of course, every mile of the drive offered nice views so I enjoyed the drive.

When I arrived at the Rising Sun Campground the wind was blowing 20-30 mph and I was thinking that pitching the tent by myself wasn’t going to be the snap that it usually is. However, I found an ideal campsite against the hill on one side and sheltered by a big boulder on another side — wonderful “cozy” little campsite. That side of the campground was completely out of the wind and my little site was especially so. After making camp I decided to see how far up toward Logan Pass I could go. The answer to that proved to be the Jackson Glacier viewing area.  Jackson Glacier is looking very well fed.

There is a wonderful profusion and variety of wildflowers in bloom right now: paintbrush, lupine, larkspur, phacelia, fennel-leaved lomatium, prairie smoke, camas, etc. I found one patch of rock clematis.

St. Mary Lake is always a gem.

After an early dinner back at camp I parked myself in a camp chair overlooking Wild Goose Island on St. Mary Lake. Oh, to have been able to shoot time lapse! I sat for an hour or more watching as the clouds overhead flew by, constantly changing.

While sitting there I heard some movement in the brush to the west of me. Close, but not immediately close… I moved my chair to the other side of the overlook so I could see the brush instead of sitting right against it. After a bit more time I noticed vehicles stopped in the middle of the road 25 yards behind me. I walked back to the road to see what they were looking at, thinking as I walked that it was likely what had been making noise in the brush. It was a mama black bear and her first-year cub who had crossed the road and were heading west. I temporarily abandoned my tripod and chair there at the overlook, changed lenses, and drove west following for a few photos before returning to my gear and cloud watching over Wild Goose Island from the Rising Sun overlook.

I returned to camp early (at least for me) and enjoyed a lively campfire and a couple beers before calling it a night, intending to rise before the sun and return to Rising Sun for the show as the sun lights up the mountains and the lake. A light rain began shortly after I entered the tent and continued off and on throughout the night. When my alarm rang 45 minutes before sunrise, I unzipped my tent flap to check the pre-dawn twilight sky to see low lying clouds and slate gray sky. No point, then, in trying for good sunrise light at Rising Sun so I decided to just go back to sleep.

When I finally rose for the day (around 8:00) I made one run up the road to see if the black bear mama and cub might be in sight before heading out the St. Mary gate and back in the Many Glacier gate. The rain clouds of the morning were breaking up, revealing patches of blue sky over Lake Sherburne to the south, but lingering over the mountains to the north. The meadows along Lake Sherburne are not yet adorned with their summer carpet of wild flowers but the scene was one of beauty regardless. After checking out the Many Glacier area, I headed back for Babb and the highway to head south for the Two Medicine area and Running Eagle Fall. Outside of the Park between Many Glacier and Babb I saw a skittish young cinnamon colored black bear that darted back into the trees when I stopped the car.

Running Eagle Fall is a “trick fall.” During the spring runoff, the water flows over the top of the fall. Later in the summer when streamflow is reduced, the water falls into a chimney hole in the rock ceiling and emerges below. The second photo, for comparison, is from last summer. The plank bridge over the creek is removed for spring runoff and the current dissuaded me from attempting to cross with my camera gear to get closer.

Running Eagle Fall is named for a historic Blackfeet woman warrior who used this site on her vision quests. The area is sacred to Blackfeet people. I share their reverence for the site.

After enjoying Running Eagle Fall, I headed south and west. I debated with myself about reentering the Park at West Glacier as the day was so gray. Yep, you guessed it. Reentering the Park won the argument. I wanted to check out Avalanche Gorge. I’m so glad it did. The gray mist and fog over McDonald Creek did have a certain subdued appeal. The usually vibrant colors of the water, the creek bed and the bordering shale were subdued, to be sure, but the muted tones offered a certain peacefulness.

I enjoyed the walk along the Trail of the Cedars to Avalanche Gorge tremendously. When a visitor walks just a few feet away from the road on the Trail of the Cedars, the visitor is transported to a different world. The visitor is transported to a world of old growth cedar and hemlock, moss and ferns, like one would expect in the rain forests of the Pacific Northwest. Sound is muffled by the dense growth. The sound of the road disappears. Serenity reigns. I always enjoy the Trail of the Cedars but this last weekend I found it especially delightful. A light mist was falling, ferns hanging on the boulders along the boardwalk were bedecked in diamond rain drops, varied thrushes were calling, and Avalanche Creek was roaring.

Avalanche Gorge is a magical spot. Yesterday the water was running high and fast and the sapphire blue color of the water was diluted by the rushing water. When the water is a bit lower and slower the water color is much more dramatic as in this photo from last summer:

After getting my fill of Avalanche Gorge, I lingered along the Trail of the Cedars, loathe to leave behind the serenity.

Reaching the road was almost painful but home beckoned.

More photos from the trip can be viewed here:  http://www.bigskycountry.net/glacier_june2011