Lured by berries

©Bert Gildart: Last week while I was hiking along the bear-rich trail that descends from Piegan Pass into Many Glacier, Janie was hiking the trail from the same valley toward the grizzly-rich country leading to Iceberg Lake. While my hiking companion, Matt, and I saw but one bear, Janie and her hiking companion, Bonnie, saw many more. In fact, one hiker ran up to her and asked, “But didn’t you see the two bears on the ledge right over your head.”

No question about it, this is an incredible time to see bears, but I must add quickly that we try to be circumspect. For instance, even though I want excellent photographs, I maintain my distance using extreme lenses. The head shot of the bear feeding on berries is cropped–and substantially so. All others, however, were as taken as I saw them through the viewfinder of my Nikon D-300 and the 800mm I had attached.

THERE ARE RISKS

Understanding that there are risks, there is no better time for bear watchers to visit the Many Glacier Valley of Glacier National Park than right now. Service berries are rich and juicy, and naturalist Bob Schuster, says the lush clumps are drawing in bears like so many magnets.

For Schuster, this also means his various programs tend to attract lots of interested visitors, and attendance at such talks is always included in a part of my visit.

Bob Schuster

Essentially, those instructional gatherings include his Watchable Wildlife program and his evening naturalist talks. Typically, he’ll caution people about bears, telling them not to hike alone, but telling them that with prudence they are probably safer in the park’s bear country than they were driving to the park.

“Dogs,” says the naturalist, “injure more people than do bears.”

CAREFULLY MANAGED

In addition to berries, another reason the Many Glacier area might provide such great viewing opportunities is that the area is so carefully managed. Frequently, rangers might close the park’s best trails for seeing bears, and that’s the one on which Janie and Bonnie were hiking: the Iceberg Lake Trail.

Service berries

chowing down

“Generally,” said Schuster, “we close the trail because there’s an animal’s carcass attracting bears, because we’ve had report of an aggressive bear, or simply because lots of bears are congregating. Right now, we’ve got seven known bears on the side of Mount Altyn. If numbers keep building, we may have to shut down the area.”

To further help bears, this year the park implemented another management procedure. This year biologists created five corridors along the Many Glacier road that restrict people from stopping.

GAWKING PEOPLE

“It’s to give bears a little more privacy,” said Bob. “It gives them the freedom to move from the mountains and out toward the grasslands along Lake Sherburne. Now they don’t have to wade through stacks of stopped cars with people gawking.”

More than likely, if you drive the road, you’ll find that Schuster, or one of the other naturalists or volunteers, has interspersed him- or herself between the bear corridors, and here you’ll find them conducting their Watchable Wildlife program.

In the evening, they give presentations at either the Many Glacier Lodge or at the park’s amphitheater. Right now, food sources are of great interest and form much of their dialog.

A BEAR’S DIET

Because bears are omnivores, they can feed on both plant and on animal material. As a result, in spring, you’re apt to see them searching the avalanche shoots for goats and other hoofed critters that might have perished during a slide. As the season progresses, bears turn to glacier lilies, which Schuster says taste like green beans. Later, they feed on cow parsnip, then about mid-summer, they move to the talus slopes and start looking for cut-worm moths.

Now, they’ve glommed onto huckleberries and to the service berries that so thoroughly cover the sides of Mount Altyn. Schuster says that in Alaska, studies have shown bears may consumer hundreds of thousands of the berries-in the course of a single day.

Satiated

“They know winter is coming,” says Schuster. “And they know they need to build up heavy deposits of fat.

“And that’s the reason it’s such a great time for bear watchers to be here.”

LAST YEAR AT THIS TIME:

Last year we were watching elk bugling–in Glacier National Park.

Vanishing spots

©Bert Gildart: White-tailed deer are now losing their spots, yet another sign of fall. This fawn was photographed in the Many Glacier Valley of Glacier National Park, and together with the second image posted here, show something else that’s interesting. The second photo proves that although bears may not be wild about bear grass, young deer can sure scarf it down.

Though Janie and I had discovered the deer on our own, a naturalists wandering along the trail near the Swift Current Motor Inn also had his eye on it. The man was part of the park’s new Watchable Wildlife program, intended to help visitors find wildlife and and to then help them understand and appreciate it.

THE PALATABLE BEAR GRASS SEEDS

“Guess there’s no question about it,” chuckled Bob Schuster, a park naturalist for over 30 years. “Deer sure do like those bear-grass seeds.”

Bob was a man I’d met previously, for once I had served as a ranger in the park. Bob, however, outstayed me by about 17 years. To make the Glacier position work for him he alternated his summer naturalist job with a career as a winter-time teacher. It’s a path many choose.

The Watchable Wildlife program has been very well received and several days later we joined a group watching bears on the side of Mount Altyn. Though many others are involved in the program, again we bumped into Schuster. He said that rangers and bear managers believe there are about a dozen bears that frequent the slopes of Altyn. Now, with the service berries growing so lush and juicy there may soon be more.

Bear grass seeds are gourmet food

“It’s one of their favorite food items,” said Schuster. “Studies in Alaska suggest they may eat thousands in the course of a single day. We can’t say that happens here as there have been no studies, but service berries sure are thick.”

That’s something Janie and I could confirm from all the bear scat we’d seen while hiking the trails, for in some cases their dropping seemed to consist of the dark-purple service berries and nothing else.

PHOTO TECHNIQUES

Photographs of the deer were taken with a Nikon’s D-300 Camera and an 80-400mm Nikon lens featuring image stabilization. Both images are full framed and not cropped, generally my practice. Because I shoot in the “Raw” format, that means file sizes are immense, large enough for a magazines to create two-page spread from them, something that occasionally happens. What’s more I shoot in the 16-bit mode, recommended for those who may want to do some manipulation in PhotoShop. After changes, I reduce the file to one that is 8-bits.

At the time I photographed the fawn, skies were overcast creating a soft light that works best in deep forest situations. In bright sun, shadows can be so intense you often need a strobe to soften the dark areas. Conversely, when shooting with the lens zoomed out to 400 as I did in the close-up shot, camera shake can often create blur. For tack-sharp photographs, image-stabilization is vital.

ABOUT THIS TIME ONE & TWO YEARS AGO:

*Quebec City

*Airstream Camper Tips

AMAZON AD ABOUT MY CAMERA. CLICK & BUY IT� & I Get A PERCENTAGE. IT’S HAPPENED!

ADS FROM SUCH INTERNET GIANTS AS AMAZON & GOOGLE HELP JANIE AND ME TRAVEL MORE. NOW THAT’S WORTHY OF SOME PHILANTHROPY–IS IT NOT?

Glacier’s moose habitat

©Bert Gildart: Historically, the Many Glacier Valley of Glacier National Park has always been one of great wildlife concentrations. Today, despite the huge lodge bearing the same name and that attracts large concentrations of visitors, the valley remains home to bears, mountains goats, bighorn sheep–and to the moose.

While camped this past week in the valley in our Airstream, we saw all four species, but the one that I was able to photograph with some success was the moose. Last year, some of my readers may recall I had similar luck (Holding its breath ) at a tiny lake in Two Medicine (See my entry on place names ) Campground.

Though no one has been able to provide me with any population estimates, park naturalists say moose populations probably are expanding, not only in Many Glacier but in the park as a whole. Certainly the terrain in this valley can accommodate large numbers, something you can determine yourself simply by taking the trail from the Swift Current Motor Inn and hiking about four miles along the trail toward Swift Current Pass. As you hike you’ll pass lakes with names like Fisher Cap, Red Rock and Bullhead. Look and you’ll see all these lakes share similar characteristics.

IDEAL MOOSE HABITAT

First, all were made by glacial action and because that happened in the recent geological past, they are all shallow. What’s more they all have an abundance of vegetation that moose can harvest in their own unique way. Look even closer and you’ll see that there are lots of huge tracks in the mud along the shores and lots of tracks in the water. Obviously, they are made by the same creature, Alces alces, the moose. Stick around, and if you are lucky you’ll see one of these huge members of the deer family. Such at any rate was our luck.

For several days we had made the ¾ mile hike to Fisher Cap and though we knew moose were nearby, they remained elusive. Suddenly, however, they were there, and not just one moose but a cow and her yearling calf–and then a large bull moose which materialized from the dense green willows. Though the bull always maintained his distance, not so the cow and calf.

SHOOK LIKE A HUGE BEAR

Before long the cow and the calf had moved from the far shore to the near shore. Both sunk their heads into the lush vegetation on which they thrive, but what made the setting for me were some of their actions just prior to departing the lake.

Shook like a giant bear

Trying to rid herself of water the cow shook like a huge dog, or perhaps a huge bear. Then because the lake bottom was so rough, she lurched forward, so that progress is best described as a step-lurch, step-lurch.

PHOTO EQUIPMENT

Though it may appear that my photographs were taken close up, such was not the case. Photo equipment consisted of an 840mm lens attached to a Nikon D-300. Probably I was about 75 yards away, and because the animals were moving toward me and showed no signs (ears reared back, ETC) that my presence disturbed them, I remained where I was.

Moose departs Fisher Cap Lake

In my 40 years of meeting wildlife biologists as a wildlife photographer and author such a proximity seemed to be acceptable. Several years ago in Denali National Park a ranger watched as a Dall sheep moved toward me until it was within 30 feet. Because it moved toward me and not the reverse, my presence was considered acceptable. The moose at Fisher Cap were much, much further, something I took comfort in, as moose can often be dangerous.

A LITTLE ON PLACE NAMES

From the wonderful little book on Place Names of Glacier National Park by Jack Holterman Janie and I have learned the following: Fisher Cap is the Indian name for George Bird Grinnell, a man for whom many park features derive their name. He explored what once became the park in the 1870s and later became the editor of Field & Stream. Red Rock Lake and Falls derive their names from the red cliffs nearby. Bullhead Lake is also known as Ladyhead and Jealous Woman’s Lake. I offer that information as even though you may be fanatic about moose photography, knowing more about the surroundings can often make the country seem even more wild and, hence, more exciting. This then is the country of bears and sheep and goats–and of wild populations of Alces alces, the American moose. It’s the country Janie and I seek out whenever we want real wildlife experiences.

Fresh snow on Mount Jackson

©Bert Gildart: According to the Farmer’s Almanac, this winter could be a bitter cold one. Here in Glacier National Park there are many indications to suggest they may be correct. Two nights ago, just a few thousand feet up from our campground in Many Glacier, the rain here had been transformed to snow, and when we awoke, the peaks were all dusted with layers of white. What’s more, the bears we’ve been seeing (more on that later) seem well feed and unusually plump for this time of year.

The snow, however, provided clarity to the air, transforming the smoke laden-air into something that was fresh and inviting. What’s more the storm was lifting, and Matt Rigg and I decided to stick to our plans. We would beseech our wives to drop us at the trailhead for Piegan Pass which would lead us 13 miles later back to my Airstream now parked beneath Grinnell Peak in the campground. Matt and his wife, Bonnie, divide their time between Kalispell, Montana, and Miami, Florida. Matt is a financial consultant and Bonnie an art teacher at the local university. Janie and I have enjoyed their company now for over 15 years. Initially, our friendship began because of our mutual love of Glacier National Park-and over the years, Matt and I have hiked some of the park’s other trails (*Grinnell Overlook ).

The trail Matt and I decided to hike begins at Siyeh Bend along the Going to the Sun Highway, and almost immediately it begins to climb. Bears frequent the entire area coursed by our route and so we both checked to make sure our bear spray was strapped on our belts and that it was easily accessible. (Toward the end of our trip, we were glad we’d checked!)

MORE FRESH SNOW

As we looked back over the trail we’d just ascended, we could see fresh snow now covering Jackson Glacier and even though the warming climate has diminished this once massive chunk of ice, the setting was still gorgeous. Jackson was the grandson of Hugh Monroe, who was perhaps the first white man to explore what is now Glacier. Jackson was a scout for General Custer and served with Captain Reno on the occasion of Custer’s death, along the Little Bighorn.

The dome-like mountain was further dramatized by our immediate surroundings. At our feet carpets of wildflowers flanked the trail and one species in particular attracted our attention-and that was Zigadenus, better known as Death Camas.

DEATH CAMAS

The species was the one mentioned in the book, Into The Wild, and if the book’s protagonist did indeed eat the plant, it may have contributed to his death, for all parts of the plant are poisonous. Another species of camas is blue and it is palatable-and it too grows in Glacier. Elsewhere, Native Americans once flocked to areas to dig for the bulbs produced by this species. And so, in Montana, there is an area near the Flathead Indian Reservation known as Camas Prairie.

Death Camas

Soon our trail ascended above timber line and then it began to drop. The peaks here were all covered with snow and it seemed the waterfalls carried with them fresh runoff. Descending now toward Josephine Lake, we found what appeared to be new clumps of subalpine fir, and we wondered if this species was migrating into areas formerly occupied by vast fields of flowers. We had heard from several naturalists that this might be one of the changes global warming might bring about.

GRIZZLY ENCOUNTER

We had departed from the trailhead at 11 a.m. and now six hours and almost 13 miles later were about to reach trail’s end. The trail was now closed in on either side by Doug fir and spruce and because we were tired, our conversation had dropped off. What’s more trail’s end was no more than a quarter of a mile away. Suddenly Matt who was in the lead stopped. “See it?” he said. “It’s a grizzly!”

Earlier we had both made a pact, that if a bear got one of us down, the other was still obligated to move forward and spray the bear, preferable in the face. Anecdotal accounts have shown that to be extremely effective. And so, we both pulled our bear spray from our belts and undid the safety catch-and then we evaluated the bear.

Matt Rigg & fresh snow

The bear was a beautiful specimen with a much grizzled appearance. It was not a huge bear, however, perhaps the size of a black bear, and so we wondered if it might be a cub in the 1 ½ year bracket, still accompanied by a sow-and perhaps another club. That was the precise family grouping Janie and I had seen through our binoculars just the day before. Because that seemed a possibility, Matt and I decided to make noise, for the bear had elected to stand and simply return our stares.

“Yo, Bear; yo bear!’ we hollered out. Then louder, “YO BEAR; YO BEAR!”

SHOUTING GENERALLY WORKS

Our shouting worked, and soon the bear, in absolutely no hurry, sauntered across the trail and disappeared into the woods. Pacing it off, we determined that the bear had been no more than 25 yards away. Even more surprising, we soon came to the parking lot, and concluded that it was no more than 100 yards from where we saw the bear.

That night we evaluated the situation again, and came to believe that our bear had also been exceedingly well fleshed out, meaning that the bears might already be preparing for hibernation, which usually doesn’t take place until late November. But maybe this will be an early winter and a harsh one at that, meaning that we should be paying attention to our Farmer’s Almanac. In other words, we should be chopping wood, storing in our nuts-or preparing our Airstream for an early departure to the south.

©Bert Gildart: And so after two full hurried weeks back East, we are back in Montana. To say the weeks were hurried is, for me an understatement, and here is an example. This past Saturday, I drove from New Jersey to Washington D.C. to visit my Godmother. Sunday I returned to New Jersey, and that night Janie and I packed for our return flight. Next morning we arose at 3:30 so Janie’s daughter Katie could drive us to Newark. The drive took slightly over an hour and despite the early hour traffic was bumper to bumper.

Flathead Valley Smoke,as seen from our back porch

What that means is that in the three- and sometimes four-lane highway, we were engulfed front, rear and on either side by huge semis, trying to make time to increase their revenue. Though you might be traveling the speed limit of 75 (there’s a five mile fudge factor that seems to be universally accepted) trucks will still bear down on you until they are within feet of your bumper. And there they’ll remain until you get the hell out of their way.

At Newark, we waited about half an hour to obtain boarding passes, then almost an hour to be searched and OK-ed to board. Then, once aboard, the captain spoke saying there was engine trouble. Whatever the trouble was mechanics cleared about an hour and a half later enabling us to take off for Salt Lake City. We arrived over an hour late, but our flight to Kalispell, Montana (home), had been held, meaning we touched ground at 1:30 instead of 12:05, as scheduled. By the time we picked up baggage and actually stepped through our door it was 3:30. We were exhausted. Janie soon fell asleep and slept over 12 hours. I wasn’t far behind.

VALLEY NOW FILLED WITH SMOKE

While in flight from Salt Lake City and over Idaho we saw smoke kicking up from several national forests, and apparently that is part of the source of all the smoke the Flathead is once again experiencing. That combined with the extremely high temperatures (slightly over 100), and we wish we could have delayed our return, for the smoke has both Janie and me with our heads stopped up. Certainly freedom to come and go is one of the benefits of traveling by RV, but if we had changed our flights, Delta would have charged us each $100.

BENEFITS OF AIRSTREAM TRAVEL

Previously, we have always traveled in our Airstream, but Janie had not seen her children and grandchildren for two years. I wanted to see them, too, for in the 17 years Janie and I have been married, they have come to treat me like family. Last year we had some unexpected health issues, but all have been resolved, meaning we can hike, kayak, bike-and travel extensively to our heart’s content. That means we won’t wait another two years to return east.

In the meantime, expect to see more postings on Glacier and in another week or so, some postings from Banff and Jasper National Parks in Canada. We have assignments there and as soon as the smoke settles and we recoup, we’ll be heading out.

POPULAR POST FROM THE PAST: Another posting of mine that has received considerable comment is one from last summer entitled Night of the Grizzly . The post describes my involvement as a ranger in Glacier the night when two girls were fatally mauled. Though many of the notes to me were through e-mail, not all were. Several were posted this past week as comments to the blog and are interesting. As I say, that post continues to pop up when people run searches on bears and particularly on bears in Glacier National park. Once I wrote a story for Smithsonian magazine about these, the park’s first fatal maulings. Since that time there have been about a dozen more.

More Bear Posts:

*Benefits of Bear Spray

*Training People To Watch Bears

"Firebird," a Rhode Island Red

©Bert Gildart: Though my posts are generally about Airstream travel, national parks, and the outdoors in general, while back here on the East Coast I’ve been covering a number of things that are of great interest to us. These are subjects that are highly photogenic and have the associated pleasure of being topics enjoyed by members of our extended family.

As those of you know who follow this blog, these subjects are ones we’ve encountered while on what is really a whirl wind visit. Most recently I covered mushrooms while on a walk with family members at Lake George in New York.

One subject that seems to be of almost universal interest for children (and us older children, too!) is the raising of chickens. That’s something that Halle (age 7) back in Montana is learning about and something grandchildren out here in New Jersey along Shades of Death Road have been learning about. They’ve been doing so now for a number of years, and from previous visits, we’ve made a number of posts. (*History of Shades of Death ; *Leaves Fall …; *New Jersey History .)

GREAT VARIETIES

Chickens, I’ve just learned, come in more varieties than I ever realized–and include such interesting as the Wyandottes and the Speckled Sussex. Species Kelsey (age 12, Kyle (age, 9) and Kory (age 6) have acquired now include the Rhode Island Red, Araucana Americana (the Easter Egg chicken), and the most unusual Polish Bantam, which Kelsey is displaying. All together they have dozens of chickens, and almost all of them have names. The Polish Bantam has eyes alright, but how in the world it makes use of them through all those feathers is question those steeped in evolutionary science might best answer.

But the interesting result of all these varieties is that they make interesting and very instructional components of a person’s upbringing. Though Kelsey can’t say exactly why she likes chickens, she thinks “they’re cool,” and says she likes all the different varieties. Her cousin, Sarah (another grandchild), who lives nearby, agrees, and says she wouldn’t mind having a chicken or two. She say everyone enjoys hearing their crowing–and that’s certainly true of me, as my parents often had chickens.

Though Kelsey, Kory and Kyle live on several acres, they are surrounded by old farms and some are still in production. But not all are generating produce–and not all people feel the transformation from farm land to commercial land has been a good thing.

This morning, Kyle and I took a 7-mile long bicycle ride along Shades of Death Road to Ghost Lake where we met a farmer who once owned acres along this fabled road. He said he was sorry to see all the changes. He said he wished he had not sold out, particularly now that he sees some of the operations that have moved in.

"Softball," a Polish Bantam chicken, and Kelsey

As Kory and I rode along here and there we could see old junk cars and in one area, there is a huge pile of red sod that spreads over an acre. The red sod is used for professional baseball fields, and as a result, periodically, huge semi-trucks drive along the road. It’s a way of life, sure, and one that people have either gotten use to–or else have moved away from. However, drivers of these huge trucks seemed courteous, something that is not true in many cases where Janie and I live. This morning as Kyle and I rode our bikes, trucks moved way over, and all slowed down. Most drivers waved.

I mention this as it is the same type of thing is happening back home in Montana, and Janie and I are concerned that one day there could be some similar transformations. For instance, because of some things that have recently occurred along what I like to call the “Last Country Road,” (our road in Montana), we fear someone could create a gravel pit, start a pig farm–or put in a huge marina. That what one individual tried to do. He was a new comer, bought up farmland from a nearby neighbor, has now transformed what was once a beautiful farm into what appears will soon be a mess of buildings. To add insult to injury, he has prominently posted “Keep out” signs, “Violator will be Prosecuted”. Recently he stood up at a town meeting and proclaimed himself to be a “good neighbor.”

"Sprinkles," an Americana chick, and Sarah

Though these transitions are certainly going to create chaos for a period of time along our little farming road back in Montana, out here in New Jersey along Shades of Death, life is more settled, and we’re delighted to say that all these young people still find pleasure from their rural heritage. Right now, it’s chickens–and chickens of all sorts. The hens, such as the “Barred Rocks” provide eggs, and because of all these hens, out here, almost every day is like an Easter egg hunt.

PREVIOUS POSTS: *This post from two years ago has been one of my most popular. It’s about the nation’s oldest serving National Park Ranger, Lyle Ruterbories . He works at Kintla Lake, a remote spot in Glacier National Park.

Hundreds on this small rotting log

©Bert Gildart: Though the forests of the East Coast tend to be more lush than those of the Rocky Mountains, never have I seen them so rich with fungi as I have on this visit. Though August is always a good month in the Northeast, the unusually heavy quantities of rain and cool weather have contributed to the profusions. In my travels of these past ten days, those places include the woods of New Jersey, Massachusetts and New York.

The images, however, that I’ve posted are all from the woodlands of New York. More specifically, those woods are immediately adjacent to the huge expanse of freshwater known as Lake George. I saw these fungi several days ago following a short drive from Sturbridge, MA, where I left Janie with children and grandchildren. I wanted to include all family members in this much-too-short trip east, and so drove north to visit my sister and her family. Lake George is set in the mountains of the Adirondacks, which in turn is part of the nation’s largest state park known as Adirondacks State Park.

Several days ago, while at their cabin on this beautiful lake, Forrest, Nancy and I made a short hike along a path that departed virtually from their back-door step. The woods were wet with fresh rain and that, of course, partially accounted for the abundance of fungi. Within a few hundred feet we had counted almost two dozen different species.

WHAT IS A MUSHROOM?

A mushroom is the fleshy, spore-bearing fruiting body of a fungus, typically produced above ground on soil or on its food source. Mushrooms are fungi, and are usually placed in a Kingdom of their own apart from plants and animals. Mushrooms contain no chlorophyll and most are considered saprophytes. That is, they obtain their nutrition from metabolizing non living organic matter.

According to several other people also hiking the trail, a number of the fungi were edible, but everyone says you really must know the species before you eat one, for there are many commonalities. My nephew, who was also hiking with us, said you can make a very preliminary evaluation by using certain techniques.

First rub a small portion of the mushroom on your skin. If it turns red, stop right there, but if not, then place a tiny portion on your tongue. If nothing happens, try eating a very small quantity.

Colors include various shades of red

MAY BE DEADLY

Though this is the manner in which people of old might determine whether a mushroom is or is not poisonous, a much better way, of course, is to consult an expert. However, even that sometimes doesn’t work, and Walter told me of a case where a man who claimed to be a mycologist ate a mushroom he thought would be all right to eat. Next day he died.

Indian pipes

Of interest with respect to the chemical properties of mushrooms is the fact that many species produce substances that render them toxic and mind-altering. Several species are also deadly poisonous.

Toxicity plays a role in protecting the ability of the fungi to efficiently distribute its spores for propagation. One defense against consumption and premature destruction chemicals evolved that render the mushroom inedible, and do so by causing the consumer to vomit the meal.

NO OLD, BOLD MUSHROOM HUNTERS

Perhaps the best thing to remember about mushrooms is derived from an old saying: “There are old mushroom hunters, and bold mushroom hunters, but there are no old, bold mushroom hunters.”

I know very little about mushrooms and am able to provide an I.D. on only one of the species included here, and that is Indian Pipes. The species grows throughout North America and I have seen it along the Natchez Trace National Parkway, in Glacier National Park, and now, in the Adirondacks.

Back home in Montana, I also recognize the morels, essentially because they grow in great profusion a year or so following a forest fire.

What I do know about mushrooms is that they are remarkable photographic subjects, and some of the techniques I’ve described in previous blogs for close-up wildflower photography will also work here.

Certainly they’re another component in a wild America and an interest could open a whole new world-possibly even a career.

©Bert Gildart: Guess you’d say we’re regrouping–even though our flight from Montana to Salt Lake City and Boston was uneventful. Biggest event for me was seeing the attire so different from what we used to see in Montana, in this case I’m referring to a man wearing elevated (high-heel) Roman sandals. This, of course, is not a judgment, just an observation.

We made the flight to see family members whom we have not seen in two years–and whenever time permits, to see attractions that each area may offer. We’ll return to Montana mid-August, and then resume life as normal. In the meantime, it is wonderful seeing children and grandchildren. When I return we will have taken side trips to Lake George in New York, to New Jersey and to Washington, D.C. While here we’ll also be enjoying a bit of the extraordinary history that the East Coast retains.

MARK TWAIN

For instance, yesterday we drove to Hartford, Connecticut, and toured the Mark Twain home. Can’t show you much other than an exterior image as photography was not permitted inside. However, we learned much as son-in-law Alun teaches English and part of his curriculum includes Mark Twain. Twain came to occupy the home in the 1870s, using money from his wife’s inheritance to build the massive home that certainly fit into the “Gilded Age.” Here, he wrote Huck Finn, what some (to include Ernest Hemingway) believe may be America’s greatest novel.

Mark Twain House with "Oma" & Piper

The other thing I’m trying to is keep up with e-mail, and particularly e-mail which comes in through my blog. Yesterday, I received a posting from an individual in Scotland who had a bit of bad luck, but has decided the best way for him to start anew is to climb Mount Rainier. In his search for suggestions, he ran across my posting from last year, and my posting almost perfectly coincides with the three-day ascent our group enjoyed August 2007. To see the inspiring motivation behind this fellow’s hope to climb, here’s a link to my post from last year, which now contains this man’s (Ken Paterson ) comments. I think you’ll be inspired by the reasons he hopes to climb. For all my posts on climbing Rainier, click on the following.

*A Place of some Tragedy

*By The Grace of God…

*Faces From Rainier

*Climbing Synopsis

In another day I’ll be driving north about 3 hours to visit my sister and family in Lake George. I’ll be there for several days, and then, depending on available time, may provide a few short posts. Lake George is a beautiful area, set in the heart of the Adirondacks. Several years ago, Janie and I parked in my sister’s drive for about a week. We kayaked various lakes in this largest of our nation’s state parks.

Iceberg Lake Trail, GNP

©Bert Gildart: If you’re reading this on Tuesday between 7 a.m. and 3 p.m., chances are Janie and I are in the air somewhere between Kalispell, Montana and Boston, Massachusetts.

We’re returning to the East Coast for two weeks for a much overdo visit with children and grandchildren. We will be back mid-August and will then be heading to Glacier National Park in our Airstream, gathering information both from the field and from the park library on various species of wildlife for some projects which we have been recently assigned.

Those assignments started Janie and me thinking about bears and bear country, which Glacier most certainly is. Janie and I know that personally as we have had a number of encounters, and though they always ended the way 99.9% of all encounters end, we always want to be prepared. The encounters we’ve had have generally occurred when we’ve let down our guard. And so for that rare 0.1% time when a bear might charge (See: Night of the Grizzly ), we always carry bear spray.

GRIZZLY BEAR ENCOUNTER

Once, Janie and I had followed an ancient trail out of Cut Bank Valley to a spot along Mad Wolf Mountain. It was fall and we had stopped in a vast grassland meadow to eat lunch. For a while we were quiet, peering east toward the Great Plains and toward the Sweet Grass Hills. Suddenly a bit of motion caught our attention and we realized that the motion was the forward progress of not one but two grizzly bears and they were heading right toward us. We called out, but a slight wind was blowing and the bears, not able to determine our location stood, and then began gazing around. The wind shifted and instantly they turned, stared at us, and then, as though we were the most powerful creatures in the world, they bolted.

Bill examines exposed cambium layer

That was a very nice bear sighting–but it could have been different, and for that remote eventuality, you need to have a plan and be prepared.

HAVE A PLAN

Bear managers advise that you always be aware of your surrounding(see: Training People …), such as my friend Bill Hutchinson in the associated image. Bears eat the cambium layers of certain trees, and the chompings on this tree were recent. And so Bill and I continued to make noise and we made sure our bear spray was easily accessible. And that may be the best thing you can do.

Bear spray has been proven to be more effective than guns in protecting yourself against a mauling. Lots of people ask about guns, but evidence of human-bear encounters suggests that shooting a bear can escalate the seriousness of an attack. Conversely, when firearms are not used, injuries to people and bear are much less likely to occur.

Essentially, what the experts ask is: can the shooter be accurate enough to prevent a dangerous, even fatal, attack? Killing a charging grizzly means your bullet must be precise, and sometimes even a heart shot won’t immediately stop a bear. If your bullet hits the enraged animal in the auricle, the ventricles still have adequate blood to pump blood to the brain, giving it many more lethal seconds of life. Head shots don’t always work either as Kalispell game warden Lou Kis can attest.

Many Glacier Valley grizzly

Kis recalls when a bear trap rolled from the back of a pickup, releasing the spring held door. The bear leaped out, turned on Kis and grabbed him by the leg. Kis fired a number of shots into the animal’s huge head, and that slowed it down long enough for another game warden to fire a rifled slug from a shot gun into the bear which was still clinging to the warden’s leg. Later, Lou told me the bear’s massive skull had deflected the penetration of the bullets and they had lodged beneath the animal’s skin near its neck.

What that means is that you should use bear spray. In fact, in Glacier that’s your only choice, for it is illegal to carry firearms, a very wise decision considering the number of bozos who shoot at sounds during the fall hunting season .

CAPSAICIN MAKES SPRAY EFFECTIVE

Why is bear spray so effective? Essentially because it contains capsaicin (the hot stuff in all peppers), one of the most irritating substances around–as a good friend of mine can attest. So as not to embarrass this man, let’s just call him Bruce, and here’s the scenario. While hiking in Montana’s Crazy Mountains near Yellowstone, somehow the protective cap worked itself loose from the can Bruce had strapped to the rear of his belt.

Bear spray works!

When my friend leaned against a tree, capsaicin sprayed out and the vile stuff permeated his pants. Almost instantly it worked its way toward those tender areas of a person’s posterior. Fortunately a creek was nearby, and Bruce quickly stripped off his cloths and then soaked his posterior in the water for over an hour. It was days before he felt whole.

That’s the effect capsaicin has on a bear’s eyes and on its respiratory system. The thick stuff blinds the animal and shuts down its lungs and trachea–and then it burns with the intensity of a blow torch. Though the results are not fatal, for a while the bear must wish they were fatal.

That’s the reason the Fish & Wildlife Service so strongly recommends bear spray, further stating that a person’s chance of incurring serious injury from a charging grizzly doubles when bullets are fired versus when bear spray is used.

When Janie and I return from our much-anticipated family get-together and then head back to Glacier, you can be sure we will continue our habit of carrying bear spray.

AUGUST 2007 POST: *Faces of Mount Rainier

AUGUST 2006 POST: *Fort Ticonderoga

AND NOW, THE COMMERCIAL:

If you’re interested in exploring the Flathead Valley and Glacier National park, here are two books produced by Falcon Press, one part of their Exploring Series, the other one of a new series of “Pocket Guides.” Janie and I, of course, are the authors and you can obtain both from us, or directly from Falcon. Look for them, too, in bookstores and in Glacier.

Exploring Guide

Glacier Pocket book

Assemblage is easy

©Bert Gildart: Don and Nancy Dennis are self-described minimalists, part of the reason they drive a Toyota and use it to tow a 20-foot Airstream Safari Travel Trailer. Into this setup they have everything for extended trips, such as one they’re now on.

But the gear they have in this minimalist setup is astounding. Inside their Toyota are two compact bags containing sea-worthy kayaks, meaning that what they can do with those bags is impressive.

We met Don and Nancy last week in Glacier National Park’s Apgar campground (See: Hiking the Highline ), a waypoint for them on their way to Alaska. In turn, the trip is part of a year-long adventure, which will include stops along the West Coast, and eventually, an excursion into Mexico’s Baja Peninsula. Both are recently retired, Don as a research forester and Nancy from a career in outdoor sales and marketing.

COMPACT BOATS

But as I write, they’re on the ALCAN , and they plan to visit a whole host of places in Alaska to include Denali National Park . They love kayaking, and when they originally sat down to line out their year, they were determined to include all the gear that so helps to make an adventure.

Because Nancy had worked in the outdoor industry, she was familiar with collapsible kayaks, but which brand to select was the dilemma. Many days of research later and they settled on PAKBOATS , a company that makes collapsible kayaks and canoes.

They selected kayaks, and the wonder of all their vessels is that they can be dismantled and then be folded into a size that can be loaded on a plane as a piece of baggage–or, loaded into the back of a small Toyota pickup. Disassembled, the “pack kayak” stores in a 35″x17″x13″ bag.

And the beauty is that once you assembled and disassembled them a time or two, they go together very quickly.

ASSEMBLY TIME CAN BE QUICK

As I watched the couple assemble the kayaks Nancy and Don explained that the reason for their lightness is that they are make of a heavy-duty synthetic canvas coated with high-abrasion-resistance PVC. Skins for PAKBOATS have reinforcement strips welded on under all longitudinal rods for even better abrasion resistance.

Sea worthy PAKBOATS on Glacier’s Lake McDonald

The rods create the frame and they assemble much like you would a multi-roomed tent. Poles are numbed, but you still must assemble them a time or two before you can do so with any speed. Nancy and Don said the first time they assembled their kayaks, it took them about 45 minutes. Now, they’ve got it down to about 20.

But if space is a problem, the time required to learn assembly techniques is more than worth the effort. PAKBOATS have been used in virtually all parts of the world and on virtually all types of waters. Because they have thwarts around the upper edges, they are extraordinarily stable, meaning they’ll work for fishing, and for some fairly wild river floating.

Ready again to stow

Looking them up on the web, I learn that adventurers have used PAKBOATS all over the world to include such places as Maine’s Penobscot Bay, Belize, and oceans off the coast of Oregon.

ONLY SLIGHTLY SLOWER

Because Don and Nancy’s PAKBOATs have a higher profile than our kayaks, I thought forward progress might be retarded, and though they are not quite as fast as our low-profile kayaks, still, they responded quickly on Glacier’s Lake McDonald.

Bottom line, if you’ve got a space problem, PAKBOATS might provide the solution for you. Certainly, they have for this recently retired couple-and they just might work next year for us. If all works out, Janie and I will be duplicating Don and Nancy’s trip and will be stopping at many of the beautiful lakes along the ALCAN as well as along some of the great rivers and lakes in Alaska.

PREVIOUS POST ON KAYAKING: Wreck of the Francisco Morazan

Bear Grass

©Bert Gildart: Hundreds of different species of wildflowers rear their heads in Glacier National Park throughout the brief summer, and though many appear to be drastically different from one another, some seemingly improbable species are in the same family and so share certain taxonomic characteristics.

Three flowers now rearing their heads are all members of the lily family, meaning that they have a similar floral formula. For lilies, all must have three sepals, three petals, six pistils, and three stamens–else they’re not lilies. Pistils are the female reproductive portion of the flower and stamens, the male.

Flowers belonging to other family groups have different formulas, and roses are a good example for some of them are also blooming. Members of this family have the formula 5,5,15,5.

Though there are more than three lilies now blooming in the park, three I discovered the other day include purple-eyed mariposa, glacier lily and the bear grass.

BEARS EAT IT–BUT SELECTIVELY

Because of its size bear grass may fool you, but if you take a quick look at one of the hundreds of individual flowers comprising the plant’s head, you’ll see, in fact, that it does conform to the 3,3,6,3 family formula. Though not as dense as I’ve seen it in some years along the park’s Highline Trail, still you’ll see many clusters.

Purple-eyed mariposa

The species is cyclic and once about every eight years bear grass seems to run from one valley edge to the other. And despite its name, bears eat only the tender, juicy base of the grasslike leaves, and generally do so only upon emerging from hibernation. Then they turn to other sources of food, such as the bulbs of glacier lilies.

Purple-eyed mariposa lily can often be confused with the sego lily which also flourishes in the park. The two look almost exactly alike but mariposa can be differentiated from the sego by the small black dot at the base of each one of the petals. Because of the orientation of the petals, in the image here, you can see only two of those dots.

Years ago when I first began working in Glacier as a seasonal ranger, I purchased a book by the well-known Craigheads on wildflowers and use it to this day. In the book it says that the very similar sego lily was once used by Mormons during lean years.

It also says that you can eat the bulbs produced by other members of the genus Calochortus, and that means purple-eyed mariposa.

MOST CONSPICUOUS LILY

The most conspicuous lily now blooming is the glacier lily. It is a conspicuous showy plant as its scientific name suggests. Erythronium is taken from the Greek word “erythro” meaning red, and sometimes its petals do have a reddish tinge. Its specific name, grandiflorum, means large-flowered, easy to appreciate when it is in full bloom.

The flower in the image shown here is just starting to appear, but if you look at my July 24th posting , you’ll see fully developed petals fluttering in all their vivid glory.

Once, glacier lilies were a food source for some Native American tribes. Bulbs were boiled or dried to eat during the winter months. Various species of wildlife also eat them and when they emerge, grizzly bears often seek them out.

Grouping members of plants together in families is a good way to learn more about the uniqueness of plants, and perhaps this will serve as a start. Literally hundreds of species are now blooming, but as with so many things in Glacier, you can’t wait too long, else they’re gone, not to reappear for another year.

Glacier lily

UPDATES: Many expressed an interest in the huge pike caught by Gene Colling in my Holy S—- posting. Gene’s traveling companion Bill Schneider, who writes for the online magazine, New West, just posted a story about their adventure and included Gene’s Video, just released. If you’re a fisherman, you won’t want to miss it.

PREVIOUS POST, THIS ONE FROM JULY, 2006–a story about our nation’s second national park, which existed but briefly:

*Mackinac Island

Nancy Dennis & tolerant goats

©Bert Gildart: When the lead billy goat lowered its head with its stiletto-like horns and began charging toward our small group of four, we thought we’d had it, but in reality all the band of goats was trying to do was reposition itself in preferred habitat. That was a mountain slope in Glacier National Park where the grass was lush and the escape terrain ideal, meaning precipitous.

We were hiking the park’s Highline Trail with a couple that pulled in next to us in an Airstream Trailer. Don and Nancy Dennis are from Vermont, and were anxious to hike some of the park’s trails. Retired now from a career in forestry, they’re on a year-long exploration of America, and were ideal hiking companions.

And so early yesterday morning, we struck out along the Highline-and soon discovered that we’d all lucked out, for our hike through this Arctic environment coincided with one of the best flower displays I’d ever seen.

Right now some of the early season wildflowers are in their prime. What’s more, the amount of wildlife we saw along the way was abundant. Throughout the 12-mile-long hike we tallied several dozen species of plants, but the most abundant was the glacier lily. In fact, in all the years I’ve been hiking the park as both a seasonal ranger and now as a private citizen I’ve never seen such a display in which these showy yellow plants were so vivid or so profuse.

CARPETS OF WILDFLOWERS

Where banks of snow were receding rigid shoots baring flowers were beginning to brave the elements, but where the banks had completely receded, glacier lilies carpeted the flanks of Mount Gould, Haystack Butte, Grinnell Overlook-and all the other mountains that reached up to touch a sky that in places was blue, other places white from banks of clouds gathering along this portion of the Continental Divide. Indeed, the Highline Trail takes you into some might lofty country.

Great year for glacier lilies

Other flowers we saw blooming included sego lily, bear grass, columbine, larkspur, penstemon, delphinium, wild onion, mallow (down in the 2003 burn), mountain heath, camas, thimble berry, cow parsnip, wild strawberry, shooting star, and spring beauty. And that’s just for starters, for there were many we couldn’t identify.

Highline Trail, Heaven’s Peak

We also saw a band of sheep, which we soon confirmed as a “bachelor herd” of bighorn rams. In the summer, the males disperse from the ewes and lambs and group together. And so they’ll remain until the fall, when they’ll exchange their tolerance for an intense interest in the ewes. At that time, they grow hostile toward one another.

KING OF ALL IT SURVEYS

Yet another mammal we saw was the marmot, and because many hike the Highline, these robust members of the squirrel family are quite tolerant of people. We saw about a dozen and some assumed classic poses; poses that seemed to say they were the kings and queens of all they surveyed.

Kings & queens of all they survey

Over the years I’ve written about marmots for several wildlife magazines, and in one story I took a trait of this mammal as my title. Marmots produce a shrill almost human-like whistle, something early French trappers picked up calling the animal Siffleur. Translated the word means “the whistler,” and that’s the name I used for my story. Hike the Highline Trail and you’ll soon see why the name is appropriate.

WHERE HAVE THE PIKA GONE?

Unfortunately, the one mammal we could not find, even though we searched and searched, was the pika. Scientists say these tiny members of the rabbit family are like the canary in the mine. They’re an indicator species and when global warming produces temperatures they can not tolerate, or terrain in which they can not thrive, these 30,000 year residents of the arctic alpine zone will disappear.

Obviously, we hope the Highline Trail has not yet experienced those conditions. Scientists, however, say that because of global warming, all glaciers in Glacier National Park will gone by the year 2020. That’s a shift from several years ago when they predicted all of the park’s glaciers would be gone by the year 2050.

Nevertheless, the Highline Trail remains beautiful, and if you want to see Glacier at a particularly spectacular time, camp in Apgar Campground, pick up an early morning shuttle (7 a.m.) to Logan Pass, and then hike the Highline Trail. Just make sure you’ve completed the hike by 7 p.m., as that’s when the last bus departs from the West Side Loop, your day’s-end terminus.

PREVIOUS TRIPS ALONG HIGHLINE:

*Global Warming and the View from Grinnell Overlook

*Hiking the Highline With a Six Year Old

*Global Warming

©Bert Gildart: This past weekend about 150 people gathered from all points of the United States, and from Canada, to pay homage to a former Glacier Park ranger. In itself the group represented a unique gathering that embodied a significant chapter of the park’s history, and in my early years, some of the assembled people influenced me greatly to include the man we had all gathered to honor.

East Glacier co-workers, at memorial service, July 19, 2008

Bob Frauson was that man and in brief, the ranger had distinguished himself in every facet of his life, for he had been a member of the elite 10^th Mountain Division and served in Italy during WWII. After the war Bob returned to college, worked briefly as a teacher, but soon found employment in his chosen field as a National Park Service ranger. As such he worked in parks in Wyoming and in Colorado before moving to Glacier where he subsequently served for 20 years–all on the park’s east side. In 1982, he retired as a district ranger, and remained in the Flathead Valley until his death this past June.

SEARCH AND RESCUE

My first encountered with this legendary man was 1962 and my acquaintance was under adverse conditions. It involved an attempt to find a friend, one with whom I worked and with whom I had climbed several of the park’s mountains.

Still part of Bob’s world, July 20, 2008

At the time David Wilson and I lived in a tent camp near West Glacier with a group of other young men, all working for the park in the woods and on the trails. We were young college students and one weekend David and I decided to climb Heaven’s Peak , which we did successfully. David, however, was somewhat of a loner, and the very next weekend he decided to climb Going-to-the-Sun Mountain all alone, something, of course, we are all advised not to do. When David did not return to the tent camp as scheduled we all became concerned. Next day, Bob initiated a search party and soon learned that David had signed the climbing register, but after that-no word.

Though a professional climbing team searched all conceivable routes Wilson might have followed, it found nothing, and that’s when Bob called in our labor crew. Bob organized us in such a way that we covered virtually every square inch of the forested mountain side that flanked Going-to-the-Sun Mountain. But after a week-long futile search, Bob concluded that David Wilson had either fallen into a crevasse, a bear had gotten him, or–and this was always one of Bob’s theories–that David Wilson had intentionally pulled a disappearing act and had fled the country. Though that possibility had not occurred to me at the time it was a possibility that I’ve come to accept; certainly one I prefer to the alternative. At any rate, 40-some years later not one single trace has ever been found of the missing climber, and now, though I certainly remember my friendship with David Wilson, I also remember the methodical way in which Bob organized our search party. It was my first introduction to techniques used for search and rescue.

HUGE PACK

As the years went by and I completed college I later worked as a seasonal ranger in many parts of Glacier and came to know Bob better. I worked for him out of Cut Bank Ranger Station-and what so many who spoke at the Memorial Service seemed to dwell on was the incredible pack the man carried when on patrol, something I certainly remember. Bob, of course, was a big man, and when you recall that he fought in the mountains of Italy his pack’s size might not seem so surprising. His pack seemed to carry whatever was necessary for rescues or for anything else he might run into.

These are aspects of the man’s life that friends and acquaintances dwelled on Saturday, but what I can add that others did not is that he could be very persuasive about park philosophy, something I learned from the career I chose as an outdoor writer. Bears were always a major item in park management, and I had been commissioned by Smithsonian magazine to write a story about the park’s fatal maulings, a subject on which I had become very well versed because of my own personal involvement in Glacier’s first tragic maulings of 1967.

PERSUASIVE MAN

One afternoon, Bob and I debated for hours about the park’s bear management plan and the extent to which Glacier should be held responsible for deaths that had occurred along Divide Creek in the St. Mary Valley. In the end, I left with a much better understanding of bear biology and the park’s bear management plan–and those were thoughts I worked into my magazine story.

But what I now remember most is that Bob’s council was excellent on a whole range of subjects, both professional–and personal–and that it should never be ignored.

St. Mary Valley, terrific for wildflowers, July 20, 2008

Though the memorial service closed with a quote from John Muir extolling the mountains that Frauson had so expertly helped manage, others closed in ways that were equally as telling. All the testimonies were excellent, but I focus on those provided by Bob Sellers, because he was another ranger whom I came to know personally and admired greatly.

“SEE YOU NEXT SPRING”

Sellers in his recollections reminisced about his and Bob’s respective roles in the park, and recalled how the two would meet in the fall in patrol cars at Logan Pass, knowing snows would soon render the road impassible on both its east and west sides.

“We also knew,” recalled Sellers, “that because we worked on opposite sides of the park we probably would not see one another until the following spring, and so that’s the way we’d part. ‘See you next spring, we’d say to one another.’ To which the other would likewise reply.”

And that’s how Sellers concluded his memories, a thought that says in effect that Bob Frauson is still overseeing the mountains we all love and that his council will always be around when needed. That’s a most satisfying thought, and one on which I find hard to improve.

“See you next spring,” concluded Sellers. “See you next spring.”

©Bert Gildart: One of my good fishing buddies wrote saying that while I had been taking photos of the various features of North Dakota several weeks ago that he had been in Saskatchewan fishing. Then, almost as a tantalizing after thought he said:

“And, oh, by the way, I caught a HUGE northern…

“I knew it was big,” elaborated Gene Colling, “when our guide, Louie, kept saying, ‘Holy S—!’ as I was reeling it in.”

Gene (L) & Louie

Gene, however, didn’t leave any doubt as to what his guide had said, choosing instead to spell out the entire word. As you might expect, I was a trifle shocked to hear such language (even though he was quoting) from a man who has distinguished himself in so many ways. For years Gene served with the Forest Service as its chief video photographer and now, after retirement, he writes a column (“I’m Just Saying” ) for magiccitymagazine.com , an online magazine about the Billings area–and he is starting a business in which he will be creating fishing videos. Because of Gene’s pedigree, I had to wonder if there might not be some better way of expressing exultation.

REALLY, WHY THE EXULTATION?

The fish Gene landed was caught on Black Lake and it was a huge northern pike measuring about 47 inches and weighing 30-plus pounds. Checking my guide to the Fishes of North America, I quickly learned the fish is scientifically known as Esox lucius, a phrase that translates literally to “water wolf.” Certainly, the fish is impressive, so much so that Gene’s guide found it difficult to contain himself even though he sees such huge fish every day. And in this obtuse way Louie said as much, over and over and over…

“Holy s—; holy s—!”

Obviously, landing this behemoth was an occasion for much joy–an accomplishment few anglers are fortunate enough to achieve. But still, I had to wonder about propriety. And so I looked again at Gene’s fish–and now I began to sense from the picture a bit of the excitement he had felt and I thought about comments some might make.

“I say there, Gene, but you certainly did land a piscine prize.”

And then I looked again, and I studied the beauty of the fish and my passions began to rise: “Lord-y, Gene; that was a monster fish!”

CLIMACTIC MOMENT

Still, that fell short of the excitement I wanted to project, and so I looked at the picture yet again. I tried to place myself in the scene, drawing on experiences with my wife along Alaska’s Porcupine River–and I remembered several occasions in which I’d landed large fish (never this size, however); and I remembered the ecstasy; easily envisioning the length of time Gene spent struggling to land the fish; the strain on his arms and back–and then, finally, the actual sighting of the huge fish as it first broke the water’s surface. And then that climatic moment when at long, long last Gene (top photo) hefted his prize.

Alaskan catch. Me (R), Duane James (L)

“Holy S*&#!.”

Churning these metaphorical waters, I conversed further with Gene. Then, taking his lead, I subsequently concluded there are phrases that should indeed be incorporated into that great Angler’s Lexicon on Fishing Vernacular. Words for the instant; words whose unmitigated exuberance can not be mistaken because these select expressions are free of those symbols some believe may delude. With such a possible addition to this as yet unpublished tome might then Gene and Louie (and me by virtue of angling passion) be able to make a significant literary contribution?

Flummoxed, I spent many gut-wrenching days of soul searching, concluding at long last that, indeed, with perseverance we could accomplished this educational goal–and that the results could be fine. And, so, with my confidence now soaring I finally united with Gene and Louie to create the only repetitious song of elation that could ever be appropriate for this occasion:

“Holy S—-; holy S—!…

“Holy S—!”

Sorry, folks, but there just ain’t no other way to express it. I just wish I had had the testicular temerity to spell it out sooner–‘cause, Gene, that is one Hell-uv-a fish.

“HOLY SHIT!!!!!!”

Cone flower, 2 strobes, 1 off camera

©Bert Gildart: Last week when Janie and I left South Dakota’s Badlands National Park, wildflowers were putting forth a display that is often overlooked by travelers speeding by to other western destinations thought to have more cachet. But from previous experiences, such as the time Janie and I spent creating a Hiking Guide to the Black Hills, we knew the delights such prairie areas could produce.

As we explored, we found several dozen species rearing their heads. Though beautiful to behold, they pose a real problem for the photographer, for it is seldom that breezes here in these wide-open expanses ever completely subside. Nevertheless, there are ways to probe the most intimate details of these flowers, but you must understand how to use electronic flashes.

Over the past 30 years I have always made use of such lighting for macro photography, once packing around the rather unwieldy and cumbersome Metz Lighting System. I still have that set up, and still use it when extremely high-speed lighting is necessary. But in the past few years, Nikon (and other top manufactures) have produced what they refer to as their Wireless Lighting System. For me, that includes two SB-800 strobes married to the D-300-and this load is sure easier on my aging back. For those who use strobes triggered with wires, most of the techniques that follow apply.

TECHNIQUES NOT MASTERED OVERNIGHT

In conversing with other photographers who also use the wireless system, we all agree that the actual mechanical techniques are not mastered overnight. That said, once understood the results they can produce are magnificent.

Essentially, for several of these images, I went to the camera’s menu and programmed the small on-camera flash to serve in the Commander Mode, which means the light it produces is used only to fire the SB-800s, which are held off the camera. In other words, though the small on-camera strobe will produce a flash, it serves no exposure purpose; it’s only function is to trigger the more powerful strobes one of which is usually held by Janie.

BLOWING IN THE WIND

The beauty of this set up is that the flowers can be literally blowing in the wind, but still, you can make them appear motionless. You do this by setting the camera to manual and then setting the f-stop to the smallest aperture your lens will support, say f-32 (remember, this is a reciprocal). Simultaneously, you set the shutter speed to the fastest speed your camera will accept for strobe photography, and on my D-300 that is 250^th of a second.

Primrose, 2 off-camera strobes

What that means is that your settings are far different from those you would use if you were relying on the daylight readings your camera’s meter might provide. In daylight, that setting might be 125^th of a second at f-16, and that differs from the strobe setting by four to five stops. In other words, the strobe setting so overwhelms the daylight setting that the background goes black. That dramatized the flowers which are exposed by the strobes–and only by the strobes.

ONE OR TWO STROBES?

For the photographs of the salsify, Janie held one light behind the plant (backlighting) and so the “parachutes” created a dramatic pattern of repetition. Using the Rule of Thirds, I so positioned the dominate node, allowing the feathery fronds to radiate out from it.

A slightly different technique was used to light the cone flower. Here, I turned off the camera’s built in strobe and mounted instead one of the two SB-800s onto the D-300. I then set that strobe as the commander strobe and set the second SB-800 to “Remote.” Janie held the remote strobe overhead to imitate the sun while the on-camera strobe served as the fill. Shutter speed was set to 250^th of a second and my aperture at f-32-for maximum depth of field. In that way the most intimate details of the flower were all in focus and the strobes froze all flower motion that the wind was producing, again, because the flowers were illuminated by the more powerful strobe lighting, and not by daylight.

Salsify, back lighted, 1 strobe

When the wind is not blowing, I also use natural light, particularly when the skies are overcast. Such lighting produces a nice shadowless light, but it also means you must use a very slow shutter speed, often as slow as 1/5^th of a second. That’s the shutter speed setting you need because depth of field is your objective and the only way you can accomplish that goal is to retain the aperture setting of f-32. Obviously under these circumstances you need a tripod.

When it’s all said and done, what you’ve got are images of some of the prairie’s most beautiful forms of life–plants such as the cone flower, which Indians once used to cure tooth aches; plants such as the salsify, which can actually be eaten, if you know when they’re edible and which parts are edible. In fact, most all these prairie species have stories they can tell, but that is the subject for another posting.

©Bert Gildart: In addition to story of Wounded Knee, which recalls one of the worse chapters in our government’s dealings with Native Americans–and that I’ve been covering in my posts–Badlands National Park also tells a much more upbeat natural history story. That story is multifaceted, and tells about the park’s biology, geology and of particular interest, the story of its vast paleontological discoveries.

"Greatest" repository of the Oligocene

Rugged as they are, the badlands may just contain one of the world’s highest concentrations of fossils in the world, something that is immediately apparent as you move through the Visitor Center. Here you will not only see some of the actual remains uncovered in the park, but as well you will see artists’ renditions of some of the animals that have been uncovered here.