Sunday, June 12, 2016

June 9-10 and 11




June 9, 2016

Late last night a car came down to the same place we were parked.  Roger wasn’t sure why he was there.  In the morning, he talked to the young man and found out he is working two jobs in different cities quite a distance apart.  He spends the night in his car in between the job sites.  Talk about a great work ethic.  It’s wonderful to know a young person is willing to undergo hardship to accept responsibility for himself.  We could surely use many more people like him in our country.

The young man told Roger about another site on the Flathead River at a boat dock, not very far away.  He sometimes sleeps there.  Roger drove to that site and had much better radio reception.  While we were sitting at this beautiful spot, enjoying the water rushing down the river, a small bus backed down the ramp and unloaded two rubber boats and a group of rafters.  I felt a little envious of the thrilling experience they were getting ready to encounter.  Our family did a white water rafting trip many years ago when our children were teenagers.  I still remember the exhilaration of running down the rapids on the Nanahalia River. 

About a half hour later a small deer came walking up along the river bank.  Unfortunately I couldn’t get to the camera soon enough to get a picture.  We could still see him through the trees, as he walked up to forage for food on the floor of the forest.  Before we left, two other rafting companies had come in from up river.

Today we changed directions, heading south.  When we started out, we were driving with majestic mountains and forest of fir trees in view.  But soon the distance between two different mountain ranges greatly increased, leaving miles of flat land in the middle.  It seems that in just the past two days, most of the snow has melted from the mountain tops.  I’m glad we saw them when we did, because the snow seems to accentuate their beauty and height.

I have been hand washing for several days, so we drove to the closest town with a laundry, in Columbia Falls, Montana.  While I handled the clothes, Roger took a walk around town.  It took about two hours to finish.  Roger’s timing was perfect.  He walked in just as I was finishing.  He had gotten a hair cut and looked great!  He also had a Pizza Hut box in his hand.  I was so glad to see that treat.  We haven’t had pizza in months.  He really made my day!!

While traveling on Highway 83, we past three different lakes.  When we came to a third lake, Lake Salmon, there were places to pull off the road for people to stop and take pictures or just enjoy the scenery.  There were no signs, so we decided to pull off and stay the night.  After dinner we began bird watching and quickly found another new bird, the red-necked grebe.  While I had been checking my bird book for confirmation, he disappeared.  When I found him again, I watched until I saw him dive under the water.  After counting to 39 seconds, he resurfaced again, which quite impressed me.  I’m sure I can’t hold my breath for that long.  



Roger took a walk around the bend to a small peninsula were there was a day use park.  At the tip of the peninsula, he discovered a beaver.  I asked Roger what the beaver was doing and he said it was just “frolicking” in the water.  I sure was sorry to miss that site, because I do so love watching wild animals in their natural habitat.

June 10, 2016

The mountains are receding in the distance and rolling prairies have returned to our landscape.  There are quite a few cattle ranches in this region of Montana.  I guess I should have expected to see them, because our next stop on Roger’s list of national sites is Grant-Kohrs National Historic Site.  It was “established by Canadian fur trader, John Grant and expanded by cattle baron, Conrad Kohrs”.  The “ranch commemorates the western cattle industry from its 1850 inception up to recent times.  The park embraces 1500 acres and 90 structures”.

We signed up for the house tour at 1:30 p.m.  The park ranger explained that the front of the home, the white frame structure, was built by Grant, after he settled here in 1859.  To “ensure peacefulness in this territory he married women from several different Indian tribes in the area.   However, as more white settlers and fur traders moved into the area, the prejudice against Grant’s multiple marriages and mixed children caused him to move his family to Canada in 1866.  Conrad Kohrs bought the house and ranch for $19,200.

Kohr’s life story is one we all like to hear about, as Americans.  He depicts the sought after “American Dream”.  At the age of 15, he left his native homeland of Germany and sailed all over the world as a cabin boy.  The quest for gold led him to California, Canada and finally to the state of Montana in 1862.  “He made his fortune-not by panning for gold but by raising cattle.”

In time Kohrs acquired 30,000 acres, where he raised both cattle and horses.  He married a girl he had known as a child in Germany.  Together they added a large brick addition to the original house.  They had two daughters and one son, who died while he was in college.  In order to protect the family estate (as females were not allowed to inherit during that time) Kohrs placed his property in trust for the new generation.  Though neither daughter wished to remain at the ranch, one of the grandsons, Conrad K. Warren began to manage the ranch in 1932.  By then there were only 1000 acres of land and a few hundred cattle.  He continued his grandfathers legacy for 40 years, then donated the house and downstairs furnishings to the National Park Service.  The furniture is original, all having belonged to his grandparents.

After the house tour, we walked around the ranch and saw another new bird, the western meadowlark.  Mike’s daughter had told us it was the state bird of Montana.  One of sheds we entered had several old buggies on display, from fancy rigs to working buckboards.  Other buildings contained photos, equipment and explanations about hay making and grain separation.  Out in the field under a large tree, there was a replica of a chuck wagon used on cattle drives.  A gentleman dressed like a cowboy discussed the history and purpose of the wagon.  He described how hard the life was for the cattle drive cook. 

I was shocked to learn that cattle were brought up from Texas every year in a “drive” that took six months.  The average cowboy was 17 or 18 years old and he worked every single day of the drive. There were no holidays of weekends off.  We returned to the RV and Roger activated the park.  The radio conditions were not very good, so it took quite a while to get the required minimum contacts.  



At 5:30 p.m. we headed south and had to travel on a very poor road through a forest called Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest.  We passed several ranch entrances that were marked by two vertical tree trunks notched at the top and a third tree trunk placed horizontally across the top.  They look quite inpressive.  Some of the larger ranches have names carved into the logs and they are stained, painted or varnished, but others are plain, with no markings.  

We were driving at an elevation of 6,000 ft. with prairie on either side, so I wander if this is what is called a plateau.  There are miles of land where you don’t see a single person or dwelling of any kind.   But there are fences on both sided of the road, so you know you are still in civilization.  We came upon a single antelope hoping off across the prairie. 

Most of the route there has been a small swift flowing stream that curves back and forth along the side of the road.  When we turned off onto highway 43, there was a much larger river, with a few yellow and purple wild flowers blooming near the bank.  There were fishermen, as well as people in kayaks and rubber boats out on the river  This river is called the Big Hole River, which is also the name of the National Battlefield where we are going next. 

There are quite a few cattle ranches at this higher elevation.  It makes me wonder how the cows survive through the harsh winters.  I don’t see any structures large enough to house them, or ever give them some kind of shelter from the snow.

It was after closing when we arrived at Big Hole, but the gate was opened, so we parked and Roger transmitted on his radio.  This site is in great demand because it counts for three different National parks with one contact.  Besides Big Hold National Battlefield, it is also a Nez Perce Historic site and a Lewis and Clark National Trail site.  The only negative thing about the location was the “horrendous” (Roger’s word) mosquitoes.  Roger had to battle them to put up his antenna.

This site had a similar history to the other Nez Perce battle in northern Montana.  Indians were forced to leave their land and move to reservations.  Many people died on both sides of the conflict.

June 11, 2016

Roger drove us to Hamilton, Montana this morning, because they have a 5:30 Mass.  We were happy to see that the small town was having a festival.  It is related to the Indians’ celebration of Harvest time. A couple of streets were blocked off and tents were set up for the vendors.  There was lots of food, jewelry, wood carved bowls, painted rocks, home made aprons and purses.  Roger bought us a buffalo meat brat (hot dog) with cooked onions.  It was OK, but I much prefer Roger’s West Virginia hot dogs with chili and slaw.  He also bought us some home made cookies for desert.  WE watched an Indian dance performed by two young people, who were wearing very fancy native costumes decorated with lots of feathers

After church, we headed back over the mountain.  Part of the route took us along the Bitteroot River.  Sometimes it divided in two, with a tiny island in the middle.  Shortly after we passed a small town, we could see a short dark animal walking right on the side of the road.  Once we got closer we realized it was a huge pig.  Roger said it must weight at least 500 lbs.  We assume he must have gotten out of his pen.  In the mountains, we also saw three deer cross the road on different occasions, as we were driving along.  We reached the top of the highest mountain on our route, where there was a large gravel rest area, on the Continental Divide, and stayed there for the night. 

No comments:

Post a Comment