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. 

June 5-8

June 5, 2016- Roger’s birthday

My day started off well with the sighting of a new bird, the lark sparrow.  Today we just relaxed, took a walk around the campground and fixed rib eye steaks on the grill.  Giving Roger a break from driving was a treat in itself.  But we also celebrated with a glass of wine to bring in his 69^th anniversary of life.

June 6, 2016

We got a late start, leaving the campground about 12:30p.m.  Temporarily, we will be leaving the Lewis and Clark Trail for a couple of days to travel to Glacier National Park, in the north west corner of the state.  Along the way we saw an unusual site.  There was a place next to the highway, where someone had placed several metal sculptures of different animals.  There were two different types of dinosaurs, an eagle, a big horned sheep, a bear, porpoise and several others.  

As we continue west, we’ve noticed that the prairie has become more arid.  The grasses are more beige than green.  The small creek beds are dry and the prairie land seems more open than before.  I realized there are no electric lines or poles on either side of the road.  We don’t know if they are underground or if there are separate small power stations at the few homes in this region of Montanan.  Most of roads leading off the main highway are gravel, instead of paved.  With such a small population, it is probably too costly for individuals to pay for paving. 

The prairie has also begun to have clusters of small, light grey colored bushes and the grasses are shorter.   There are also some tiny yellow flowers on some of the grasses.  Off to our left there is a row of trees about a half a mile from the highway.  We assume they must be growing along a small creek.  After consulting our map, it appears to be the Milk River.  Just beyond the town of Malta, we finally began to see more trees and larger shrubs growing in the natural landscape.  There are still some planted fields, but predominantly it is still prairie land.  

At the Town of Chinook, we did a short detour to Bear Paw Battlefield, a Nez Perce National Historic Park, 16 miles south of Hwy 2.  The prairie along this route has oil pumping stations about every half mile on both sides of the highway.  When arrived at the park, there were large signs that gave a brief summary of the battle between the Nez Perce Indians and the U.S. Calvary.  The Government had ordered the Indians to give up their homeland and move to a small reservation.

The siege lasted for four months.  Some of the Indians escaped into Canada and joined Sitting Bulls camp near Ft. Walsh.  After hundreds of the remaining Indians had been killed, the Nez Perce finally surrendered, as their families were starving and freezing in the onslaught of the winter weather. 

After Roger transmitted for a couple of hours, we ate dinner and headed back to Hwy. 2.  Along the way we saw another pheasant.  I could not believe how fast he was running to get away from us.  Then a few miles down the road, Roger saw two prairie dogs.  He told me he had seen one earlier in the afternoon, while I was reading. As we pass the tiny town of Lohman, the land had considerably less flat prairie and more of the low rolling hills.  It has become more populated, with towns 10 to 20 miles apart.  Because Roger has been driving all day, we stopped at the Wal-Mart in Havre for the night.

June 7, 2016

I am amazed how the landscape changes so unexpectedly.  The mountains have disappeared and we are surrounded by flat land again.  When I look into the distance, it feels a little like we could fall right off the edge of the earth.  But then we “squint” our eyes just a little bit and we can see the very faint outline of distant mountains, giving us just a glimpse of what is to come.

The farmers have certainly taken advantage of this flat fertile land, because it is completely tilled farm land, acres and acres of turned soil.  At the crossroads of the town of Gilford, there were large ponds on either side of the road, with lots of different birds.  Roger stopped and parked the RV and we walked back with our binoculars to observe them. 

There were a couple of killdeer and one new bird, the American Avocet.  Two of the larger Avocets were very unhappy about our presence and decided to show us this was their territory.  They each began to “bombard” us, flying straight toward our heads, then veering off at the last minute.  For some reason, they seemed to dislike me the most.  Maybe that was do to the fact they could see me better in my pink shirt. 

We walked across the street to the other pond and discovered another new bird, a duck, called a blue winged teal.  There were three eared grebes which were in their breeding stage, making them easy to identify.  There have golden tufted feathers around their ears and red eyes.  Additional golden feathers appear on their sides, contrasting with their black backs.   There were some other birds farther down the pond, so we decided to go back and drive the RV closed to the pond.

There was a large gravel area that was being used as a staging area for highway construction.  We drove down the gravel road of this parking area, then drove closer to the pond.  All of a sudden we sunk in the dirt. Roger tried to back up.  But we weren’t moving. “Oh Boy”!  We were in trouble now.  There was nothing we could do but look for help.

We walked the equivalent of three blocks, into the tiny town of Gilford and flagged down a truck.  A young 17 year old boy named Haiden was willing to help, but he needed to go ask his Dad if he had a chain.  Haiden’s Dad’s name is Ted.  When he could not find a chain he sent Haiden to their friend’s house to get one.  Ted tried to use their truck to pull us out, but the RV would not budge.  So Ted called his friend, Mike.

While we waited, Ted told us a way to determine whether the ground is too soft to support a vehicle.  The telltale sign is the white powdery substance lying on the surface.  It is actually very fine salt that settles on soft dirt after heavy rains.  We had been seeing these white patches of ground for many miles, even back as far as North Dakota, and wondered what they were.

 I asked Ted what crop was growing in this area and was very surprised when he told us it was wheat.  It is so thick and green.  He explained that the color is due to an abundance of rainfall.  The problem is that too much rain can cause wheat to develop a bronze fungus that can destroy the plants.  Hopefully the soil will dry out before that happens.

 Mike and his 14 year old daughter arrived shortly.  But his truck, though newer and more powerful, still didn’t move the motor home an inch.  Mike didn’t give up.  He drove to another friend’s house and returned with a huge tractor.  I was skeptical, which I shouldn’t have been, since I had been praying to “Dear St. Anthony and dear St. Anne”   to please find us help and they always answer my prayers.

The tractor did the trick!  It pulled us out without any problem what so ever.  Roger tried to pay Mike for his time and trouble, but he would not take the money.  We thanked him profusely and I said, “God bless you all”. Though we could look at this from a negative perspective, I was so happy that Roger took it all in his stride and even began singing,  “On the Road Again”.

This was an experience that introduced us to four new people, 2 men and their teenage children.  During our time waiting for Haiden and Mike to come and go, we learned that Ted is a machinist.  Haiden is learning the trade, but states that his younger brother is much better than he is.  Mike works for the railroad and also farms.  There current crop is hay, because the wheat prices have recently declined. 

Mike and his wife have eight children, with the youngest being one year old.  The daughter who was with Mike is active in the rodeo and just won first place in an event at Glacier National Park last week.  She also placed in two other events.  Rather than acting conceded, she readily admitted that this coming year will be harder, because there are more competitors at the high school level.  The older children are all home schooled by their Mom.

Mike and Ted’s families belong to a church that is getting ready to go camping together.  It is an annual event that they all look forward to.  When I asked where they were going Ted said, to a place called “Bear Paw”.  I laughed and told him we had just stopped there the other day.  It was a real pleasure to have met these two families.  If we hadn’t gotten stuck, we would have missed the enjoyment of getting to know them.  God does work in mysterious ways, turning challenges into opportunities to love one another.

In the very next town we came to we were grateful to find a car wash with an outdoor sprayer for tall trucks and RVs.  Roger pulled in and washed the motor home.  It had collected huge amounts of mud in the wheel wells and on the bottom of the coach.  When he finished and continued our drive, we were shocked at how well we could see through the front windshield, which had previously been covered with bugs and dust.

After driving west through the town of Shelby, we saw another field of windmills.  I counted 96 that I could see, but there may have been more just over the slight rise of the hills.  At the town of Cut Bank, Montana the welcome sign read: “Where the prairie meets the Rockies” and, sure enough, the elevation began to increase and the faint outline of the white capped Rocky Mountains began to appear. 

Mike had told Roger that there was a Lewis and Clark monument on Hwy 2 near Meriwether.  We found it at the top of a hill.  It marks the farthest point that Lewis traveled west on the Maria River.  We took pictures and then Roger made radio contacts for about an hour.  Our only disappointment was that the monument was full of graffiti.  Some people had even carved initials into the stone steps.  How very sad that some individuals choose to see negativity where there is such extraordinary accomplishment.  We are so glad Mike mentioned this site, because we both enjoyed it.  It also has a wonderful view of the Rocky Mountains, from a distance.

As we finally arrived at the base of the mountains, the scenery reminded us of our trip to Norway.  The road into Glacier National Park is called “Going to the Sun”.  At the entrance gate, the park ranger said we could only drive six miles into the park because our RV was over 21 feet long.  But even smaller campers only had access to a total of 13 miles, because crews were still clearing the road farther into the park.  

As we drove along, beautiful St. Mary Lake was on our left.  We located the small campground, but decided to drive across the road to the boat dock before settling in for the night.    The lake was so beautiful with the huge mountains surrounding it.  When we walked out on the pier, Roger talked to a man who had just come in from fishing.  The water was so very clear.  When we put our feet in, we found out it was also very cold. 

When we drove into the campground, I gained a new understanding of the word “primitive”.  We had been told that none of the campsites have electricity or water hookups.  But there were not even any mowed areas.  You were definitely in the wilderness.   We did discover a new animal in the campground.  Actually, we have seen a couple before and thought they were prairie dogs.  But the little news paper we received at the park entrance had a picture of one that was labeled, “yellow bellied marmot”.  He is a cute little fellow, who makes a “peep” sound like a bird and burrows in the ground.

Another good thing about the campground was that there was no electrical noise to interfere with Roger’s radio.  He had great fun transmitting this evening.  He had what is called a “pile up”, where numerous people try to contact him.    

June 8, 2016

This morning we left the east side of Glacier and proceeded south.  We crossed over two fast flowing rock bed creeks that were so beautiful they made me smile at there swiftness.  It feels like they are rushing toward a happy reunion with family or friend.  As we headed to the next Glacier Park entrance, Roger spotted a falcon on one of the electric poles.  He pulled over so we could watch him with our binoculars.  That allowed us to identify him as a Prairie Falcon, another new bird.

There is very little snow on the west side of Glacier National Park.  But the sheer height of the mountains is still amazing, especially when you are at the bottom looking almost straight up to the top.  I found myself saying, “Oh!, Oh!” as we would come around a curve in the road and a portion of a river would come into sight. 

There are the strangest looking flowers here in the park.  They look like nothing I have ever seen before.  The flower sits at the top of a long stem that has no leaves.  The blossom is a cluster of tiny cream colored flowers, rounded at the top and oval at the bottom where it meets the stem.  From a distance they remind me of mushrooms, because they stand taller than the surrounding vegetation.  I found a picture of them in the Glacier National Park brochure.  They are called bear grass.  The majority of the forest consists of tall fir trees.  They cover the slopes of the mountains, as well as the narrow valleys.

There was a small picnic area right on Lake Mc Donald, where we ate lunch and took pictures.  It was so peaceful and quiet.  After a while we had the place all to ourselves.  It was so tempting to just stay here for the night.  Roger did take a short nap, then we drove back down Hwy 2 to the Middle Fork of the Flathead River. 

We parked the RV so we could walk down to get a closer look at the river.  Roger noticed the dark sky and suggested we take the umbrella with us.  That turned out to be an excellent idea, because it started to rain as soon as we got on the bridge.  Then the rain became hale, bombarding us with marble sized balls of ice.  We ran to the nearest building, which was a restaurant.  Roger bought us a hot chocolate and a big chocolate chip cookie to share.  By the time we finished our treat, the hale and rain had stopped. 

We returned to the RV and Roger found directions from a person who had previously activated his radio on the Flathead River.  We drove through the forest and found the gravel drive that led to a spot right on the river bank, where we stayed for the night

June 2nd thru 4th, 2016

June 2, 2016

Roger and I think we have discovered how the cottonwood trees got their name.  These trees are planted all along the banks of the river at this corp park.  When we pulled in yesterday, it looked like it was snowing because there were white puffs “raining” down from the trees and collecting in “drifts” along the side of the drive.  They definitely looked like thin cotton balls.

Today, after a stop at Walmart we headed north across South Dakota.  There are a few areas with groupings of trees, but for the most part, the land is planted with crops.  The rest of the land is comprised of grasses about a foot high, swaying in unison with the wind.  We have noticed that the red winged blackbird is more prevalent here than the mocking bird is back home in Pensacola.  I have really enjoyed Roger bird watching with me, on this trip.  Unfortunately, we haven’t been doing much bird “finding” of new birds.  Either they won’t stay in one spot long enough or the large variety of similar species makes it very difficult to distinguish one from another.  But we’ll keep trying.

Suddenly, as we were driving along, a male pheasant ran across the road, startling us, but also making us smile.  Just a few miles later we saw a welcome sign for the town of Redfield, South Dakota.  It read, “Pheasant Capital of the World”.  Since it was dinner time, we decided to stop and eat at a local restaurant, called “Rooster”, a VFW club.  We had the roasted chicken dinner, which was very good.  In speaking with the waitress, we found out that the name of the club comes from the nickname for the male pheasant.

After eating, we had planned to drive a little while longer, but Roger noticed a campground on the edge of town on a small lake.  It was so pretty and inviting that he decided to stay for the night.  After choosing a campsite, we parked, then took a walk and looked for birds before going to bed. 

June 3, 2016

This will be another driving day through farm lands and prairie.  There are some farms with cattle herds grazing in pastures of prairie grass.  But for the most part, the land is so flat that you can see for about 10 miles in every direction.

After lunch we stopped for gas in the small town of Selby, South Dakota and saw something we’ll never see at home: a group of people riding horses down the main street of town.  I guess we are officially “out west”, in cowboy country.  We crossed over the Missouri River at Mobridge, South Dakota and noticed the river is twice as wide as it was on the Nebraska/South Dakota border.  Roger noted we are now in the Mountain Time Zone and back on the Lewis and Clark Trail. 

The wind is very strong, making white caps on the water.  Just 30 miles farther north and we crossed over into North Dakota.  The hills are much higher on both sides of the Missouri.  There are less trees and farmland and much more open prairie. The winds have gotten even stronger and constantly tug at the RV.  Farmers must get wind burns from exposure due to working out of doors, in this country.  One point of interest we have seen is the use of old tires placed on fence posts for signs.  They usually have “no hunting” written around the edge, though I’m not sure what people would be hunting for.  Some of the tires on the posts don’t have any written message.  We can’t figure that out.  Maybe the message has just worn off.

As we crested one of the many hills, we were excited to see a small herd of buffalo grazing behind a fence.  There were several babies among the herd, which was very encouraging.  They are such powerful creatures, who supported the Indian nations for countless years.  It would be wonderful to see their numbers thrive again.

The farther north we travel, the taller the mountains become.  Some of them have grey rock walls where erosion has carved narrow crevices in the sides.  At this part of the river we actually saw some beaches with light brown “sand”, something we had not seen before.  Later in the afternoon, as we continued our drive north and west, we came to a rise with windmills in the distance.  Considering the high winds, I can see the logic of using that resource productively.  I counted 32 in all and found myself wondering how many household they support with electricity. 

We arrived at the Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site, near Washburn North Dakota.  Though the visitor’s center was closed because it was so late, there was an exhibit outside.  This was a replica of the round earthen structures the Indians lived in.  There were large tree trunks, with two thick branches at the top, forming a “V”.  These stand several degrees inward (rather than straight vertically).  Then another log was placed across the top of two “Vs”.  This formation continued all around the lodge.  I looked forward to seeing the inside when the visitor’s center is opened, tomorrow. 

We hiked the path down to the Knife River, bird watching along the way.  Finally, we have identified a new bird.  It has a yellow chest, grey head and black tail:  the Western Kingbird.  When we got to the river, I was surprised how small it was, only about twenty feet across.  Yet it supported the life of numerous Indian families for many years. 

We stayed in the parking lot for the night and Roger transmitted on the radio, activating this National Park Site for ham radio operators.

June 4, 2016

This morning we watched the movie in the visitor’s center.  It was narrated by an Indian woman who was raised in the earthen lodges along the Knife River.  She explained the history of her Hidatsa people and their farming and hunting practices.   Then the park Ranger gave us a tour of the inside of the lodge.  The construction was much more complex than I had realized.  The interior is constructed entirely of notched logs (no nails).  The men begin the process by digging four holes in the ground and setting 4 huge support poles about two feet in diameter.  The remainder of the work is performed by the women.  The sides are formed of smaller split logs, with the cut side to the inside of the lodge.  The roof is made of reeds, then the entire structure is covered with sod.  A buffalo hide is stretched on a frame in front of the doorway, to block the wind.  There is a fire ringed with small rocks at the center of the lodge, just below a smoke hole in the roof.

We left the historic site about 9 a.m. (one of our earlier starts to the day).  I’ve just noticed something that is “missing” in the farm land we are passing.  There are no large sprinkler systems.  Perhaps there is adequate rainfall to support the crops without irrigation.  We have notices more large rocks on the prairie and have passed several piles that appear to have been removed from the ground prior to planting.

About 10.00 a.m. we began to see several oil pumping stations, like the ones we have observed in Texas.  The previous park ranger had mentioned there was some controversy recently about the oil industry here in western North Dakota.  Roger and I haven’t listened to any news in quite sometime, so we have not heard about the dispute.  Before the day was over I had counted 62 oil pumps.

It was 11 a.m. when we were surprised that the landscape changed to a land of canyons, similar to the Grand Canyon, though not as deep or colorful.  These canyons are mostly beige and grey.  A roadside sign indicated that the land is comprised of sandstone, clay and shale.  It is still quite beautiful.  Shortly afterward we came to the entrance to Theodore Roosevelt National Park.  What a wonderful unexpected site it was!  We had no idea there were canyons in North Dakota.

The road into the park is 14 miles long, curving around the mountains.  The Little Missouri River flows through the center of the park.  There were small herds of buffalo grazing on the hillsides and upper prairie land.  There also appeared to be small group of antelope in the distance.  We stopped at the River Overlook and took pictures, then continued to the final overlook at the end of the road, called Oxbow Overlook, named for the sharp curve of the river.  After Roger transmitted for awhile at another overlook at the highest point in the park, we returned to Hwy 85 North, leaving the canyons behind.

Our next stop was Ft. Union Trading Post, on the North Dakota/Montana border.  It was established in 1828 to “meet the growing demand” for trade between the various Indian tribes and the fur traders.  The Indians provided buffalo robes and beaver pelts in exchange for gums, pots, knives, blankets and cloths.  There was a complimentary balance between these two cultures for almost 60 years.

We walked through the fort and made sure to get the fort stamp for our National Park booklet.  We listened to an Indian women talk about the forts purpose and walked through the small museum.  Then we went back to the RV so Roger could transmit on the radio from this location, another National Park site.

As we continued driving, the terrain in Eastern Montana revealed low, round, rolling hills, with hardly any trees.  The prairie is a world of short grasses, as far as the eye can see.  Then about 50 miles later, the land became very flat from the Missouri River for about five miles distance, to the first set of rolling of hills.  The sun was starting to set and it made a really beautiful pattern across the sky, sliding from pale blue sky to pink, rose, lavender and purple colored clouds.  It was hard to realize how late it was because the sun does not set in this part of the country until 10p.m.   We drove for over and hour, with major road construction slowing us down to a crawl for almost 20 miles.  The “road” was gravel so little rocks clanged and clattered of the wheels.  When we finally arrived in Ft. Peck, we found a parking lot near a theater where we spent the night.

May 29 May 31

Sunday May 29, 2016

For the last couple of days we have been traveling through mostly farmland.  I had forgotten how peaceful this setting can be:  miles and miles of newly planted crops, so green and stretching towards the sun.  This is one of the reasons we try to take the “back roads” when we venture out to new places.  Yesterday is an example.  Who knew a tiny town of only 56 residents could be so charming?

This morning we drove on to Sibley, Missouri, where Ft. Osage is located.  It is a place Clark noted in his journal that would make a good site for a fort.  In 1808 he returned to this spot and helped supervised the construction of this fort.  It soon became a flourishing trading post, used by the early settlers, as well as the Osage Indians who were befriended by those living in the fort. 

We watched a short film, then walked through the replica of Ft. Osage.  Clark’s journal had a very detailed drawing of the original fort, so it was easy to make an accurate reproduction.  There were also detailed plans available of similar forts built during the same time frame, which are still preserved by the War Department.  When I saw how small the soldier’s barracks were, it was hard to imagine that as many as 81 men were housed there.  I was surprised that there was a separate cabin for the man who served as the interpreter.  He helped translate French, Osage and English, so I guess he was a very important member of the fort community.

Next we drove to Independence, Missouri and the home of President Harry S. Truman.  There was a short film about Truman’s life.  It was interesting to discover a parallel with the history of Ulysses S. Grant.  After Truman met Bess Wallace, courted and married her, the couple lived in her parent’s house.  It remained their home for 50 years.  It is a huge 2 story white frame residence on a quite street just 5 blocks from the visitor’s center.  Roger spent a couple of hours transmitting from this location, as this is another National Historic Site.

After leaving Independence, we located the small city park in Kansas City that has a huge, beautiful sculptured memorial with Lewis, Clark, York, Sacagawea holding baby Jean Baptiste and Seaman, Lewis’s dog.  The park overlooks the Missouri River.  If it had been winter, we could have seen the confluence of the Missouri and Kansas rivers.  But the tall trees were in full foliage and blocked our view of that part of the river.

We found a Catholic church and attended 5:50 p.m. Mass.  Then we went to a barbeque restaurant recommenced to Roger by one of the people who has been supplying him with parts for the hexbeam antenna.  Kansas City is well known for its barbeque, so we had high hopes for a good meal.  Yet I was a little nervous when I noticed that Arthur Bryant’s Barbeque isn’t in the best part of town.  It is surrounded by a fence and has a security guard out front, at the gate.  But there was a line out the door of people waiting to get inside.  It took us 30 minutes to be served, but the food was good and there was plenty left over for us to have another meal, later.

After eating we drove to Raytown, about 19 miles south of Kansas City to a park where three different National Historic Trails converge:  the Santa Fe, California and Oregon Trails.   It is called Cave Springs and is owned by an association of local residents.  When we arrived, the attendant was just getting ready to close the gate.  Roger explained that he wanted to activate the park for the 100th anniversary of the National Parks.  Fortunately, the man was a member of the board of the park and was aware of the ham radio operator’s participation. We were so surprised he agreed to let us stay the night.  He pulled the gates together so they looked like they were locked and we had the whole place to ourselves.  It was just after midnight when Roger finished transmitting.

Monday May 30, 2016

Memorial Day

There was a cemetery across from Cave Spring.  It was beautifully decorated with large American flags on both sides of the driveway, about every 15 to 20 feet.  There must have been a hundred of them.  What a wonderful sight of patriotism!

We left the park and crossed the Missouri River into Kansas.  Roger gets additional credit for each state he transmits from.  We found a lovely little park in the city of Leavenworth, sitting right on the west bank of the river. The park even had a campground at one end.  We got out and took a walk around the park and found a couple of interpretive signs.  One explained that the state got its name from the Indians who lived in this area.  They called themselves the Kanza.  When you add the “s” for more than one, it becomes Kanzas.

After Roger transmitted for a while, we moved on to the City of Council Bluff, Iowa to the Mormon Trail, another National Park site.  The Visitor’s Center was closed on Monday and Tuesday, but we found a large open gravel area adjacent to the property.  So we parked there for the night and Roger radioed.  I read some of the Lewis and Clark material about this site and learned that this was the area where the First Native American Council with Lewis and Clark, the Missouri’s and Otoe’s occurred.  So Clark named it Council Bluff. 

Tuesday May 31, 2016

Roger transmitted again this morning, which made it almost noon when we left.  As we drove north I discovered an interesting feature on the farmland.  In places where a small creek crosses the fields, earthen dykes have been built on both sides.  I assume they serve the purpose of preventing flooding of crops during heavy rains.  It reminded me of the much larger concrete dykes all up and down the Mississippi River.

Our first stop was in Onowa, Iowa.  The state park has a replica of Lewis and Clark’s keelboat, floating next to a dock right on the Missouri River.  Inside the visitor’s center there are several displays on wildlife encountered by Lewis and Clark in this area.  It was here that they first encountered the badger and the bull snake, which makes a noise like a cow.  One really interesting exhibit had a long thick rope attached to an electrical device that measured a persons pulling power compared to the average current flow of the river.  It gives a true to life experience of the strength required to pull the keelboat.  A drawing next to the display showed 5 men pulling smaller rope extensions attached to the main line.  That’s sure a lot of strength required for navigation upstream!

Next we went into Sioux City, Iowa to the Southern Hills Mall.  It was supposed to have a collection of 36 murals designed and unveiled in 2003 for the bicentennial of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.  After walking through the mall and asking 5 different people, no one knew anything about them.  Finally, I called the Local Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center and was told that they had been taken down and put into storage.  It was such a disappointment.  I hope I remember to notify someone to remove this from the Lewis and Clark website.

We continued on our trip to just north of Vermillion, South Dakota, to the Spirit Mound.  Lewis and Clark took several men and climbed this conical hill on August 25, 1804.  The local Indian tribes believed the hill was occupied by spirits, because there was a “large assemblage of birds about this mound”(quote from Clark’s journal).  The men estimated the hill to be about 70 feet above the surrounding prairie.  Roger and I did not try to hike the trail to the top, but took pictures instead.  Ok, I admit I’m a wimp when it comes to exercise on a hot afternoon.

We decided to find a campsite for the night and located a Corps of Engineer campground with all the sites facing the river.  It was just south of Yankton, South Dakota, back across to the Nebraska side of the Missouri River. We registered for two nights, because we need a break from so much driving.  Roger also wants me to have some time to bird watch, as I have not yet located a new bird on this trip.

May 27 and 28

May 27, 2016

We left Carlyle, Illinois about noon and headed to St. Louis, Missouri, to the home of Ulysses S. Grant.  The property is called White Haven and used to be a working plantation, growing various crops. It was owned by Frederick Dent, who had a daughter named Julia.  In the 1840s Grant courted Julia and they were married.  They raised a family and farmed Dent’s land in the 1850s.  

Unfortunately, there was considerable disharmony between Dent and Grant because Dent was a slave owner and Grant’s parents had raised him to believe that slavery was wrong.  After the Civil war was over, Grant returned to White Haven and worked in the fields, side-by-side with the Dent slaves.  In the 1860s he purchased the property from Julia’s father and siblings.

Coincidentally, the acreage adjacent to Grant’s home was bought by Anheuser Busch, which is home-based in St. Louis.  We were happy to see several paddocks surrounded by gleaming white fences, where Clydesdale horses were grazing.  We were at least able to get a picture of them, though from a distance.

Next we drove into the city hoping to get close to the arch.  But there was construction all over the site.  Parking was almost non existent for RVs, so we finally parked in a city bus drop off.  It was so late that hardly any of them were running.  We had planned on getting a picture right beside the base of the arch, to compare it to the one we took over 40 years ago.  But we discovered that it was surrounded by a 6 ft. high fence.  What a disappointment!

Yet, even with the fence in the way, one can’t help but realize that the arch is really a remarkable structure.  It stands 630 ft. high and is made of stainless Steel.  We did get a couple of photos from a distance.  Though I’m embarrassed to admit this, I did not remember that the arch was built to memorialize the Lewis and Clark expedition and the Westward Expansion of the United States.

Because of the parking issue, we decided to continue on our journey, stopping about 10p.m. to spend the night in a Wal-Mart parking lot.  (They certainly are handy while we are traveling in the RV.)

May 28, 2016

Today we traveled to Arrow Rock, Missouri, which is about half way between St. Louis and Kansas City.   Clark noted this in his journal on 6/9/1804 as they passed the area along the river.  We parked the RV and followed a trail through the woods, assuming it would lead to the rock.  But we ended up in a campground.  It was very pretty, clean and quiet, so we paid to stay the rest of the day and evening. 

The park ranger came up and I asked him how we could find arrow rock.  He explained that the name is really a misnomer arising from the incorrect translation from Indian to French to English.  The actual meaning is that this is a place where arrows were made from the rock.  

We took down the bikes and rode into town, which is only seven blocks long and three blocks wide.  It is a small village with limestone gutters along the streets and wooden sidewalks.  One of the town’s landmarks is a brick tavern that dates back to 1834.  We had hoped to eat there today, but they were closed.  That was quite surprising to us, as this is Memorial Day Weekend.  

One of the town’s primary sources of income is the Lyceum Theatre, which draw people from both St. Louis and Kansas City, to see “Broadway caliber” plays and musical performances.  Another “landmark” in Arrow Rock is the “Calaboose”, a tiny 1873 stone jail.  It has only housed one prisoner and when his yelling began to annoy the neighbors, he was released.   It stories like this that make our travels so much fun.

Lincoln Birthplace

May 22, 2016

Lincoln’s Birthplace

This National Historic Park is near the small town of Hodgensville, Kentucky.  We watched the movie at the visitor’s center, which only lasted 12 minutes.  Yet it contained information that we had not known before.  Lincoln, who was born on February 12, 1918, had only a total of two years of formal education during his entire youth.  But he had a strong interest in writing.  Though materials were scarce and expensive, he would write in any place he could find:  with his finger in the dust on the window, with sticks in the snow in the winter and the dirt on the ground in the summer.  

Lincoln’s father, Thomas, was a great storyteller.  Abraham would listen intently to his father so that he could repeat the tales to all of his friends.  This helped him to develop a talent for speaking before crowds and using language that his listeners could understand. Thomas was a farmer during Abraham’s younger years and though he was only about six years old, he helped his father work on the farm.  He would plant pumpkin seeds in between the rows of corn.   

The Lincoln family was forced to move two different times during Abraham’s younger years, because there was a dispute over ownership of the property on which they lived. (along with nine other neighbors) Thomas contested the claim made by others, but lost his fight to retain the property each time.  After the second dispute, he moved his family to what is now the state on Indiana.  Back then, it was frontier land that was undeveloped.

Can you imagine having to leave your home, friends and livelihood and start all over again not just once, but twice? 

A large marble and granite Memorial has been built on the property.  It houses a log cabin similar to the one in which the Lincoln family lives.  It was a one room structure about 18 by 16 feet with a dirt floor, one window and a single fireplace.  It is so very encouraging to realize that someone could come from such humble surroundings and also become the leader of a great nation.

May 24

Sorry to be so long in writing, but we have not had internet access in the mountains for several days.

May 18, 2016

Last night we drove to Oak Ridge, Tennessee, just west of Knoxville.

When we went into the museum this morning to sign up for the bus tour, we were told that there were no more seats available, but we would be the first two on the waiting list.  Most people register on line, so there was a possibility we could get on.  Since we had an hour and a half before the tour began, we went back to the r/v to eat breakfast.

Returning at 11 o’clock, we had to wait 20 more minutes to learn that 3 people did not show.   

At the first site on the tour, we saw a film that gave a history of the Manhattan Project including the purchase of land, construction of the city and the facilities where the atomic bomb was created.  “The mission in Oak Ridge was production of the uranium isotope

U-235 by three different methods-gaseous diffusion, electromagnetic separation and thermal diffusion-for a bomb.”  The project began in 1942 and the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan on August 6, 1945.  For some reason, the actual bomb was named “Little Boy”.     

The second stop on the tour was the small church which held services for different denominations at different times.  The guide said there was actually a person who participated in the war of 1812 who was buried in the cemetery adjacent to the church.  Next we proceeded to the Y-12 building, where the electromagnetic separation of uranium occurred.  (It is no longer in use.)  The last two sites we drove by: X-10, where the Graphite Reactor was built, then K-25, where gaseous and thermal diffusion processes occurred. 

One of our unexpected sites, upon leaving Oak Ridge, was a small flock of wild turkeys.  This was our first of several sightings over the next few days.  What fun it is to see these birds walking along the highway, so free and unencumbered.

Thursday May 19, 2016

We went to the Stone River National Battlefield Visitor’s Center.  The volunteer on duty gave us a brief overview of the battle, explaining that there were several times when the victory could have gone to the Confederacy.  But the Union won out in the end. 

There are several large artillery guns on display through out the park.  We learned that there were even more soldiers in this battle than at Chickamauga.  Over 23,000 died in that campaign.  The cemetery is a silent reminder of the huge loses to both sides of the conflict. 

 

After lunch Roger drove South about 50 miles to transmit on a section of Natchez Trace Pkwy.  just south of Nashville and E. of Murfreesboro.  After a couple of hours, we headed north again.

Friday, May 20, 2016

We had another fun, unexpected event.  We received a call from a couple whom we have maintained contact with since Roger was in the Army in the 1970s.  Joe and Maureen called and told us they were headed west to see their son and could we meet them at Mammoth Cave.  We told them that was great.  It was a perfect day to go caving, as it had been raining since yesterday.  Cell phone coverage was terrible in the mountains, but we finally connected and met them for the cave tour. 

Our guide explained that this is the largest cave in the world.  They have excavated 400 miles of tunnels, thus far.  But volunteers continue to search unexplored tunnels, adding to the length of the cave’s structure. What is so extraordinary is that these tunnels are located in an area of only 7 cubic miles.    At first this confused me.  Then the ranger gave me and example of a large city, like Nashville.  It has hundreds of miles of roads with in only a few square miles of land.  The cave’s miles are measured up and down at different levels, as well as linearly. 

There have been 27 entrances of various sizes that have been discovered so far.  The part of the cave that we toured was mostly dry and a constant temperature of 54 degrees.  But because of the rain, it was obvious where there where openings, as the water flowed freely through the few holes in the ceiling.