©Bert Gildart: On June 22, 1969, the Cuyahoga River in Ohio caught fire sparking an environmental movement that continues to this day. Though this horribly polluted river had caught fire many times in previous years, because so many other national environmental problems existed in the late ‘60s, it was this particular disaster that sparked creation of Earth Day and the Clean Water Act.  Today, among some, the word “environment” foments anger in ways that almost defies common sense, and it seems we should recall that the desire for quality living once brought many together.

Certainly some of the beneficiaries of the solutions to problems of the ’60s were those people living south of Cleveland and north of Akron, for it also generated a local movement. Suddenly residents wanted to clean up the Cuyahoga River, not realizing that they might be creating something magnificent that they had not initially envisioned. What many forget today, is that in those days almost everyone was an “environmentalists.” And that it was popular to be one.

One of the many bridges that take cyclists along the park's 26 mile bicycle trail.

First, volunteers and professions cleaned the river. Then, later, national park planners capitalized on the historic Ohio and Erie Canal that paralleled the Cuyahoga, creating a national recreation area out of the river and out of the historic canal. Then, in the year 2000, managers went even further elevating the area to that of a national park. By doing so, not only have the lives of locals been enriched, but so have the lives of visitors — curious about what they might find in Ohio’s only national park. It’s a category into which Janie and I recently fit, and now we  too are Cuyahoga National Park enthusiasts.

ENTHUSIASTIC STRANGERS

For the past few days Janie and I have been exploring this national park, enjoying it by pursuing one of our passions and that is bicycling. We began our explorations parking our truck at the visitor center in Peninsular where we unloaded our bikes and struck out for Indian Mound Train Station, located about 12 miles away. The scenery was lovely and the history moving, but what interested us as much as anything was the enthusiasm so many strangers shared about Cuyahoga National Park.

One lady came over to us as we were enjoying an interpretive area labeled “Beaver Marsh,” and told us that once the area had been a Volkswagen junkyard. Then she said that one day, about 20 years ago, she drove by and saw huge cranes lifting rusting car bodies from the mud. “It made really made me happy,” she said. “Real happy.”

Deer and Great Blue Herons have returned to what was once an area too polluted for most any kind of life. Both photos taken on the same day from along the bike trail in this fascinating national park.

Later, a volunteer at the Hunt Visitor Center added to her thoughts. “The plan,” he said, “was to make the junkyard into a parking lot. But several beavers built a dam and that created a new plan.  Mangers thought the beaver had a better idea and today, we must have at least four lodges in and around the marsh. That makes for about 30 beaver.”

TRAINS HELP CYCLISTS

Today, a lengthy board walk now takes cyclists across this grand example of nature, one that combines with other aspects and which is deserving of national park status. In fact, the entire park with its history of the canal system and examples of nature prompted us to spend a number of days cycling the park from one end to the other. Because trains were also part of the history of the area, the park service has added train transportation that benefits visitors, and certainly cyclists. Between Wednesday and Sunday, you can park your car at any of about five different train stops, cycle to some distant place along the canal, flag down a train and then for $2.00 hop aboard and return to your vehicle.

Often weekends at Cuyahoga attract performers, in this case at the Peninsular Train stop

Cycling then is a great experience and along the way Janie and I saw great blue herons, beaver, wood ducks and various species of turtles. As well, the trail takes you to old farms, to small villages defined by the large quantities of fruit and vegetables for sale. And of course, it interprets the canal system that helped settle a nation.

But it does yet more: Cuyahoga National Park demonstrates the blight that too much industrialization can bring about. On an upbeat note it also demonstrates how resilient nature can be when concerned citizens band together and insist that, yes, there really is a better way of living life. Cuyahoga is literally up from the ashes.

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THIS TIME LAST YEARS:

*Alaska’s Chena Hot Springs

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©Bert Gildart: It’s impossible for us to pass near Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota and not make the 50-mile detour south to camp there, even if it is only for a night. This year we particularly wanted to see these Badlands because everything seems so lush. We were not disappointed.

The park is divided into a North Unit and a South Unit, but this time around we only had time for only the North Unit, which is separated from the South Unit by about 30 miles. Over the years I’ve written about six stories for a variety of magazines and done so because this isolated area grows on you, celebrating as it does grasslands, buffalo, wild horses – and the rugged life of Theodore Roosevelt.

ROOSEVELT SAID BADLANDS MADE HIM PRESIDENT

After settling into a campsite we drove the park road to the Little Missouri Overlook and I was reminded that once Roosevelt had marched two thieves to justice along this river, staying awake reading Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. Later he remarked that Karenina was unprincipled.  He also said in later years that “If it had not been for my days in the Badlands of North Dakota I would never have been president of the United States.”

Little Missouri flowing through badlands lush with an abundance of vegetation not often seen.

Roosevelt also found solace here, having fled to these very same badlands shortly after his wife and mother died on the same exact day; and as I looked over the expanse of badlands I could see how one might simultaneously find physical challenge and peace. Before me the river flowed serenely and the expanse of lush vegetation that rolled over the Badlands on our July visit offered a sense of well being. But the Badlands that backdropped the Little Missouri could also offer hardship, something one is instantly aware of when the winds wail and when you struggle to climb a steep hill on a day temperatures approach the hundred degree mark.

On this brief stop, however, Janie and I saw only the most benevolent side. The river flowed clear and blue, bison starred back from shaded bluffs, and soft breezes caressed a multitude of flowers and grasses that bowed and dipped on this mild mid summer day.

And now, we’re back on the highway sufficiently rejuvenated to cope with another few days of highway travel.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*The Park That Made a President

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©Bert Gildart: Back on our the road, heading east, but not until after we checked out a spot on the Charles M. Russell Wildlife Refuge for burrowing owls. We did see one and it was in the very same area where I found one several years ago. Though I was unable to photograph it this time around, I did on my last trip, so I’m including it with this brief post. The image was made with a Nikon camera and a 600mm lens. I also used a blind, which I always carry. Sometime it obscures my presence, sometimes it doesn’t.

Burrowing owl, a common resident of the Charles M. Russell Wildlife Refuge

Before departing Fort Peck I also made a ten mile bicycle trip from the campground, past the Visitor Center and then up a steep hill that then crosses the massive dam. Ten miles later, I completed a very enjoyable and informative round-trip ride.

LARGEST OF ITS KIND

Once this was the largest earth filled dam in the world, but that title was usurped several years ago when Russia constructed such a dam of their own. Nevertheless, the Corps proudly proclaims that Fort Peck remains the largest hydrologically-filled earth dam in the world.

Because the dam is earth filled I had to remind myself that I was in fact riding over a dam, but interpretive panels along the way remind you that the land is certainly altered. Lewis and Clark camped here in May of 1803 and when they did, one member of the party encountered a grizzly bear. As well, members saw their first moose in a place called Dry Fork, which I could easily see as I cycled across the dam.

DAM NOT WITHOUT TRAGEDY

Though most say the dam was needed at the time – and is still needed, all of which may be true – the dam was not without its tragedies, as the other image I’m posting with this blog so informs us.  In September of 1938, eight men perished one day in a massive slide. Two of the bodies were found, but six remain forever entombed in the mud and rock of Fort Peck.

Construction of Fort Peck included tragic moments and now memories

BACK ON ROAD:  Though we are now back on Highway Two camped for the night in Rugby, North Dakota, which city fathers here say is the geographical center of North America, we did make one overnight stop in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. It is one of my favorite parks and deserves some mention even though our stay was brief – which I’ll provide in my next post. Today, we’re scurrying around trying to get back on the road and make up for our serendipitous stops.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

*Chena Hot Springs

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T. Rex at Fort Peck Visitor Center

©Bert Gildart: For those of you wondering about my delinquency in posting let me start by saying that we’ve been consumed with packing for an extended trip east, now underway. Compound that with our current location in  eastern Montana, and, here, the remote setting makes Internet connectivity sporadic. As well, we’ve been scurrying around — getting reacquainted with Fort Peck, one of  our favorite areas in the state.

Fort Peck is sandwiched between Wolf Point, Montana, and the eastern edge of the Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge. To some that means you’re in the middle of a vast monochrome of desiccated grasslands, but if you settle in for awhile, the land grows on you.

FIRST COVER OF LIFE MAGAZINE

For starters, Fort Peck is contiguous with the huge Fort Peck Lake, more properly designated a reservoir, but one that now features some of the state’s best fishing. Once the dam creating the reservoir was a WPA work project, part of FDR’s New Deal. It was intended to extricate a hungry nation from the Great Depression of the 1930s.

The men who worked here for a period of about seven years helped to create such a colorful chapter in America’s history that Fort Peck Dam served as the very first cover of Life Magazine. The photographer was Margaret Bourke White, and she was associated with others who have become some of my journalistic heroes and heroines.

Ms. White was married to Erskin Caldwell, who wrote God’s Little Acre and Tobacco Road. Her photos, which constituted a story “Saturday Night In Montana,” were accompanied by a story written by Ernie Pyle, subsequently famous as a war correspondent.

The dam was constructed between 1933 and September 22 of 1938, and if one were suddenly transported to some lofty position high overhead, the Fort Peck Dam work area must have looked like a mound crawling with ants. Ten thousand men worked here and with their families, the number rose to 50,000 people, living in places such as New Deal, Square Deal, McCone City, Roosevelt – and of course, Fort Peck.

T-REX

Since those days other significant things have happened in the area, most notably the discovery that the eroding lands have been revealing past occupancy. Some years ago, a fossil of Tyrannosaurus rex was discovered about 20 miles southeast of the center, meaning that about 60 million years ago this was dinosaur country.

Click to see larger images. L to R:  Michele Fromdahl, Fort Peck Interpretive Center Director; J. R. Rasmusan, fishing guide extraordinaire; bison in nearby wildlife paddock.

Subsequent to the discovery paleontologists began exploring the much eroded landscape and soon learned that the area contains one of the world’s richest of fossil areas. With that discovery, and the fact that the area was loaded with human history and was adjacent to one of the largest national wildlife refuges in the lower 48 states, the Corps decided to construct an elaborate and immensely informative visitor center.

Today, the visitor center informs on both the area’s human history and its natural history. It explains the function of the dam. As well, the same lands administered by the Corps of Engineers provide what Janie and I have come to believe is the nation’s very best campground.

MECCA FOR PHOTOGRAPHERS

From the spacious campground, Janie and I have explored the adjacent Charles M. Russell Wildlife Refuge, fished the reservoir, explored the “birding trail,” and traveled the Dinosaur Trail. For me, photography figures into this equation, and each time I come here I try and create new images, and have done exactly that this time around. With the exception of my fishing photograph of J.R. Rasmuson, all images posted here are from our current visit.

Put in other words, if you stop here you’ll see exhibits of dinosaurs; you’ll see bison roaming a huge bison paddock; and you’ll see the glimmer of night lights produced by the dam’s huge turbines that now help power five different states.

Click for larger images.  L to R: Night images of generator towers, which work to supply power for five states.

That’s only for starters, and in another day or so, we may post a few of my birding images, taken on the Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge.

Indeed, this is a Mecca for those with a yen for outdoor explorations.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

*Art from World Eskimo Indian Olympics

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Image of Manny Curtis shot with extreme ISO setting

©Bert Gildart: This month’s issue of Native Peoples Magazine features a story of mine about the World Eskimo Indian Olympics (WEIO). The magazine is on the newsstand and is now reminding me of what an adventure Janie and I had last July in Fairbanks, Alaska, where the event is held annually.

The story was illustrated with my images and because I worked so hard obtaining the pictures thought I’d share some in this posting. With the exception of several of the pictures that focused on the arts from remote villages, all were action images and several were taken with natural light but at incredibly high ISOs.

ISO is the digital equivalent of ASA in film, and for those of you who can remember way back to the year 2000 when film was still in vogue, you’ll recall that when you used Ektachrome 400, grain started to appear and could be a real problem. Not so with digital images, which you can further enhance using Lightroom and PhotoShop.

The image of Manny Curtis was taken at an ISO of 2000 while the one of Clyde Brown was taken at an ISO of 800. In the magazine, there is no grain and the colors are intense.

UPCOMING TRAVELS

Janie and I are departing in several days for the East Coast for a number of reasons. We’ll be visiting family in New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts and Washington, D.C. Along the way we’ll be gathering material for a number of stories. After Labor Day, we’ll pull our Airstream to Shenandoah National Park and spend about a month updating a book published by Globe Pequot about hiking and exploring this beautiful park. The book is going into its fourth printing and we have sold over 24,000 copies, which is pretty good for an outdoor book.

Rich Luhr and family may join us in their Airstream in Shenandoah in September and if so, we plan to climb Old Rag, the park’s highest peak. Though not particularly difficult (at least, Rich, for a man 20-plus years your senior!), what makes the ascent so meaningful is the ancient rock. The rock reposes near the summit and dates back to the Precambrian.

As we make our journey back east we may stop for a night in Wisconsin and revisit a lovely couple whom we’ve gotten to know from the Airstream crowd. Ken and Petie Faber are also an extremely talented couple, and they’ve been here in Bigfork the past few days.

Clyde Brown dancing at openng ceremonies of World Eskimo Indian Olympics, Fairbanks, AK.

Ken is a retired insurance man and now devotes his time to refurbishing old Airstreams, creating what the industry calls “Vintage Airstreams.” Petey is a retired teacher and now an artist extraordinaire. Though they are a few years older than Janie and I, they are active cyclists, and think little of striking off on a 50-mile day-long trip.

CIRCLE OF FRIENDS

There are some other good people we’d like to visit along our way, several of whom we rendezvoused with this past winter in Anza Borrego. And then, too, we have family in Minnesota, but we’ll just have to see how our serendipitous travels unfold. Several story assignments are pending and if they work out then our route may change, meaning that we’ll have to try and make stops on the way back.

Life, however, is about the present, but because it benefits from the past, I’m hoping my WEIO images stir some atavistic recollections, which is what the four-day event is intended, at least in part, to evoke.

The event has become one of our favorite memories not only because of the superb athletes, but also because we were able to revisit so many wonderful native peoples, whom we count as very good friends.

See you from along the road.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

*World Eskimo Indian Olympics

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©Bert Gildart: Seventy years ago today my mom made medical history at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, giving birth through cesarean section to a baby boy. It was a first at the old army hospital, and the baby, of course, was yours truly.

A year and a half later, on December 7, 1941, my dad, mom and I survived the Japanese invasion at Pearl Harbor. Other significant and sometimes traumatic events continued to mark my life and did so for my first 30 years, to include a harrowing rescue in the ocean just off Fort Monroe, Virginia.

At the time I was 14 and not the most devoted of high school students. One day I had decided to skip school, take my dad’s sailboat, and cross  the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay, failing to note that storm-warning flags were flying.

Mount Reynolds reflecting in small pond above Logan Pass

SAVED FROM STORM-RAVAGED WATERS

About mid way across, violent winds kicked up and the sailboat went over, and the last thing my companion and I saw before fog enveloped us was a huge aircraft carrier bearing down. Fortunately the Coast Guard also saw us, marked our location and moved in to snatch us from the violent waves that were sweeping over us. Somehow the rescue efforts were picked up by a local radio station but they got their news wrong.

Reporters were told two teenage boys were lost in the violent storm despite an attempted Coast Guard rescue. Both my mom and dad heard the report and by this time knew I’d “borrowed” the sailboat. But I thanked my lucky stars that they initially believe me dead, for normally my transgression would have brought out the wrath of God in my dad. As it was, both my mom and dad were so glad to see me alive that my “crime” was initially overlooked.

Mountain goat shedding winter coat; Photographer John Roberts, a most impressive man whom I will be describing further in subsequent posts; Bearhat Mountain, reflecting in small pond near Hidden Lake Overlook.

Other such calamities seemed to plague me until the time I was about 30, prompting many of my friends and contemporaries to tell me that I would be lucky to make it to 50 – much to the Biblical allotment of three-score and ten. They contended there were reasons. They elaborated, and though I won’t divulge their thoughts here, will concede that I might have committed transgressions that prompted such delusions.

Nevertheless, I have survived and am now recalling individuals  who made such insensitive comments. Today,  I plan to laugh in their face, for not only am I alive and well, but I am accomplishing things that I feel very fortunate to still be able to do…

GLACIER’S LOGAN PASS

Yesterday, I departed home at 4:30 a.m., drove to Logan Pass and was there to greet the sun from this lofty and incredibly beautiful place in Glacier National Park. While there I photographed goats and the image of Bearhat Mountain reflecting in several small alpine ponds. It was an absolutely beautiful place to look back over my life, concluding like Willie Nelson, that, sure, I have made some mistakes, but that without some of those mistakes I wouldn’t be where I am now. “I’ve profited from my mistakes,” said the famous singer/songwriter in so many words, “giving me wisdom. Life is good.”

I concur, for I have a wonderful wife, crazy enough to embark on many “outlandish” adventures. I also have understanding children – and so does my wife. Moreover, her children have accepted me and that acceptance adds to my blessings.

Mountain goats near Hidden Lake overlook, above Logan Pass

LEARNING FROM LIFE’S MISTAKES

Life, in fact, is good and I have many more goals which I believe I will be able to fulfill.  That is what I concluded yesterday following a fairly vigorous hike  to the Hidden Lake Overlook where I took the photographs included here.

Today, some of my best friends will be joining me to celebrate this day and there are several who will be attending whom I will remind of the predictions they made so long ago. I’ll laugh in their face and tell them that I plan to be laughing (but not too loudly) for at least another 20 years. Fate has been generous and I hope will continue, for I have many more mountains (both metaphorical and literal) that I fully intend (Chilkoot) to climb.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

*Alaska Travels

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Skunks remain our new and most welcome neighbors

©Bert Gildart: Recently U.S. District Judge Martin Feldman, a man with oil interests (until he sold subsequent to his decision), lifted the moratorium on oil drilling. To put it bluntly, I smell a skunk. In fact, the skunks I’m now seeing in my yard quite likely have odor that is considerably less foul than is that of those now responsible for lifting this moratorium. The moratorium, of course, was not an indefinite one, just one intended to allow us time to conduct research that would help prevent another disaster – and the loss of yet more lives.

But that apparently won’t work for Feldman, who is now setting us up for a catastrophe that could be greater than the one we are now experiencing.

From what I read virtually all available resources are currently trying to help BP with its mega disaster, which has created a catastrophe beyond anything we’ve ever known – at least on a short term basis. Lives have been lost, jobs destroyed, and an environmental nightmare has been created that just seems to be getting worse. Compounding the matter is that BP “facts” change each day as company representatives take to the air.

And now Feldman wants to proceed with more drilling, which says to me that the man could care less about the potential loss of more lives or the immense environmental problems that yet another oil spill could cause.

What I want to know is: if we do drill — and if drilling creates another Apocalypse, how would we attempt to resolve a new problem with most world resources now engaged?

Am I missing something?

PROBLEMS IN GLACIER

Logan Pass in Glacier Park opened June 24^th and with its opening, more people are visiting, and some, in fact, are carrying guns, as the law now permits.

As predicted by most park rangers, the law permitting guns is going to create immense management problems, as was demonstrated this past week. Apparently two women hiking one of the trails in the Many Glacier Valley were approached by a deer that was swinging its head to and fro. This frightened the women and one of them pulled out a .38 caliber pistol and then fired it into the ground near this ferocious animal. Though it is now legal to carry firearms, it is not legal to discharge them randomly.

They've gotten used to us and no longer threaten us with raised tails.

From the way the summer is starting off, it does appear as though someone is going to be seriously injured, for most visitors cannot tell the difference between the barrel and the stock (or the pistol grips). It seems likely, too, that a bear will be wounded and then there will be real problems.

On the home front, young SKUNKS continue to explore the new environment into which they have just emerged. Of the three that we originally saw a week ago, only one seems to remain, and as you can see, we’re only prejudiced against certain types of skunks, not all.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Keeping Guns Out of Our National Parks

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One of our neighbors

©Bert Gildart: This past week we’ve been trying to make the acquaintance of a new family that has probably been here for some time, though we’re just now meeting them.

At the moment the family consists of two young and one adult female, and all three are characterized by black bodies punctuated by two broad white stripes running along each side of their bodies. On all the stripes join into a broader white stripe at the back of the neck. The stripe is then interrupted by a small patch of black, but then picks up immediately, running along the center part of each of their foreheads.

Of course, I’m describing what now remains of a family of striped skunks, and because family units are generally larger, I’m assuming one of the Great Horned Owls we frequently hear at night from the huge nearby cottonwood may have taken several. Or maybe it was one of the feral dogs or cats, which we sometimes see and cuss.

Janie saw our skunk family  the other night from our kitchen window. They were emerging from beneath a hole along the side of our neighbor’s outbuilding. From the building the two small young made their way to our front door, and for awhile, we could hear the soft movement of their paws in the gravel.

RANGE OF TOLERANCE

Grabbing my camera I had to see what their response would be. Upon opening the door, they turned tail (literally), and then elevated their three bushy tails as though choreographed. I kept my distance, and they kept  their spray, only threatening me when I approached too closely. I assumed they must have a range of tolerance, and I certainly intended to keep it.

We live in a farming community and some of our neighbors enjoy them as do we.  But not everyone feels the same. In fact, the other night a friend exclaimed :

“We don’t need skunks around here!”

Turning Tail accompanied by nervous camera shake

Janie responded saying that skunks may sometimes defend themselves with spray, but when left alone they go about their business in ways that can sometimes be beneficial.  Our immediate neighbor, the one whose out building under which they have taken up residence, agrees.

THEIR BIOLOGY

Actually, skunks benefit us all (more from my previous skunk postings). Feeding between dusk and dawn, they search for mice, eggs, carrion, insects, grubs, and berries. At sunrise, they retire to their dens, which may be a hole beneath a building, a rock pile or simply a burrow in the ground. Skunks do not hibernate but instead become semi-active or simply take long naps.

In February or March, mating occurs, and by early May, after a 42- to 63-day gestation period, a litter of about five or six young is born. The young are born blind, but as they mature, follow their mother until late June or early July.

GOOD PETS

I’ve been told that skunks actually make pretty good pets, and in fact, this last image is of a tame skunk. At the time I was working for a newspaper and a young man, who had once been a student of mine, knew I also photographed wildlife, and said we could take his desented skunk into the woods and find a good setting. This old log worked and the two old Metz Strobes provided the proper lighting. I recall that the skunk was affectionate and that it was easy to transport. Later yet, I used the image in a Mammal book which I produced in cooperation with Glacier National Park.

Emerging for evening feed

As I say, I’ve had a long association with stripped skunks and see no reason to harm them unless they’re getting into someone’s chicken coop.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*In Defense of Dandelions

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Stomping Feet

©Bert Gildart:

Note, this is a blog I posted three years ago, and wanted to link to it from a new skunk  blog,  which I’ll now be posting tomorrow. Somehow this (the one you are now reading) posting got gobbled up in cyberspace so I had to go back to the original document. So I’m posting this one and, tomorrow, yet another with new and exciting skunk experiences (enjoyed yesterday) as I just know everyone will be equally as  excited about skunks as I am.  And so, from a June 2007 posting, I offer the following:

The young of all creatures are generally adorable, and that is certainly true of three baby skunks I saw this evening while riding my bike near home, about 30 miles south of Glacier National Park. Off in the bushes near a small creek known as Rose Creek, three tiny striped skunks emerged from the bushes.

Their first reaction was one of curiosity, and though I was nervous as they moved my way, I too was curious. Closer and closer they moved until one was almost standing on my feet. Suddenly it sensed something might not be quite right, so it backed off, puffed itself up and stomped its feet, a normal response when afraid. Believing this might be a good photo opportunity, I quickly peddled back home, got Janie, got camera equipment, and together we returned in our old work truck—not the good one that pulls our Airstream, and that we certainly would not want sprayed.

Because I am so fascinated with wildlife, years ago I convinced the Glacier Natural History Association they needed a mammal book, and they concurred. Here are a few paragraphs from it.

Of the four species of skunks in North America, only the striped skunk is seen locally. As skunks are nocturnal, they are not commonly seen in Glacier or Waterton. They can, however, make their presence known, for when they are disturbed or provoked, they discharge a strong smelling fluid from scent glands located beneath their tails. Occasionally local populations increase significantly, and they have to be live-trapped from buildings and then relocated. Over 40 were removed from one of Waterton’s campgrounds, and in 1974 more than 50 were removed from Apgar Campground in Glacier Park.

Paying a friendly visit.

Despite their defensive mechanism, skunks are sometimes preyed upon by coyotes or bobcats, especially during hard times. Owls—in particular, the great-horned owl—seem to be immune to these offensive odors and often prey upon skunks.Normally skunks sleep in dens during the day and do most of their hunting for insects, rodents, frogs, and snakes at night. They are not true hibernators, but during a cold spell may take long naps…

Janie and I spent an hour photographing the three baby skunks, and again they approached us, this time almost stepping on Janie’s feet. Rather than babies, however, they reminded us of teenagers, testing their way into adulthood with bluff and bluster. Again, they stomped their feet, but they never raised their tail in a way that concerned us.

Eventually, they crawled back into a log, and there they remained, for we didn’t see them again. Not everyone appreciates skunks—so we hope they remain well out of sight. We left, wishing them a good life—and a long one.

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This Time Three Years Ago:

*Top Ten National Parks  For RVers

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©Bert Gildart: Over the years Janie and I have made many boat trips from our home near Montana’s Flathead River to fish, to evaluate the immense changes in human population that have occurred, to look for one of our favorite birds – and seek out the impressive rookeries this species has  created.

In short, we’ve caught some fish, mostly pike; have agreed that the number of people establishing homes along the river is deplorable; and that for that reason the vast Great Blue Heron rookeries that once existed up and down the Flathead have greatly diminished. At least that is what we have recently suspected and was the big reason we pushed off two days ago; we wanted to find out.

Traveling up Montana’s Flathead River from our home near Bigfork, searching for Great Blue Heron Rookeries and for other story-telling features, such as this old barn.

We pointed our johnboat (one we’ve also used for months on end on the Yukon River) upstream. The wind was blowing hard and to avoid a bumpy ride we proceeded slowly, pulling back even further on the throttle as we passed the site where one man has attempted to create a huge marina despite the objection of many neighbors in this small Flathead Valley farming community.

We were among those objecting, so when we saw the owner working along the shoreline, pointing at his huge tin storage area – waving us ashore – we turned without reciprocating and traveled on. Childish, perhaps, but few wanted him here, and we most certainly agreed. He was arrogant, and we didn’t like him either.

Continuing, we passed by an old log barn that was of interest, thinking that if barns could talk this one might have quite a story.

MULTITUDE OF BIRDS

Of course we kept our eyes open for bird life. Along the way, we saw a number of ospreys, one Bald Eagle nest, and a multitude of waterfowl, such as Mallards. We even saw several Great Blue Herons, but sadly, one of the rookeries that existed several years ago had been abandoned. And so, we continued our search, powering yet further upstream.

At this time of year, Great Blue Herons adults stay busy searching for food.

Within the hour, we approached a piece of land that had been preserved by the Nature Conservancy, and it was here that we saw several herons rise from a collection of nests. We turned off the engine and listened.

Sitting quietly, we heard the chatting of several black birds and the distinct sound of nesting pair of Sandhill Cranes. We were encouraged, and paddled into the shore.

Great Blue Herons are known for the huge rookeries they create, when given a chance. In years gone by, I had counted three large rookeries, and, now, had found a new one. Some large rookeries can number 50 to 60 nests, but this one numbered but 19. Still it was impressive, and so as not to disturb the nesting birds, I pulled out an 800mm lens and then Janie and I settled in to watch.

LARGEST OF ALL HERONS

The Great Blue Heron is the largest of all North American herons and is well known for the loud croaking sound it makes just prior to flying. The species has been around a long, long time, having evolved during the Paleocene, or about 65 million years ago.

In addition to size, you also recognize the species by virtue of its long plume-like feathers sprouting from its lower neck. They are prized by some, and so the bird is at times shot by a certain group of unconscionable “sportsmen.”

As well as size and coveted feathers the stiletto-like bill is somewhat unique in that it changes during breeding season from a dull yellow to a somber orange. The lower parts of their legs also change at this time – going from grey to an orangey color.

As we watched the birds, every now and then the young would poke their heads above the rim of the nest, voicing their need for food. About the same time, one of the parents would fly off, returning 20 to 30 minutes later with food.

We photographed the birds for over an hour, and then returned to our boat. We powered further up the river, stopping near a place called Foy’s Bend, where we had seen a rookery just two years ago. Sadly, it was gone, and we had to assume the influx of more people along the river was the cause. That or perhaps the shooting!

Returning to rookery with food in gullet.

I realize that growth in the valley is inevitable, but still lament the fact that we as a species are intent on destroying our planet with oil spills, unchecked population growth, and attitudes that are destructive toward virtually all species but ourselves.

On the flip side, I am delighted I can still find simple things such as a Great Blue Heron Rookery near our home, and that some species manage to conduct themselves in the same way they have done for millions of years. Though improbable, we hope change here in the Flathead will proceed at a slower rate else the very features that lured people here initially will cease to exit.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

*A Baby Pelicans Big Gulp

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©Bert Gildart: Judging from the number of people who hung around after the two programs I gave this past week at Rich Luhr’s Alumapalooza Airstream Trailer rally, I have to assume the presentations were successful. My feelings were reinforced by thoughts shared by those who specifically sought me out during the three and one half days I spent at the week-long rally at the Jackson Center in Ohio.

Brett (Rich’s co-producer) introduced me as “a much published writer/photographer who had contributed to every single issue of Airstream Life since its inception about six years ago.”

Airstream Factory tour

My first program at Alumapalooza was about national parks and Glacier’s Centennial, the latter of which included a retrospective on grizzly bears. The second program concerned photo techniques, and following the presentation many said they hoped I might do the same next year but include a field seminar in which we’d all take images — and then compare.

ALUMAPALOOZA

Of course, none of this would have been possible had it not been for the successful program Rich and Brett put together. First, Alumapalooza was set next to the site where Airstreams are manufactured, and I am sure that over the course of the week, all attendees, who probably totaled 400, took in the factory tour.

I’m also sure that all who could summon up the energy included seminars as part of their daily itinerary. Such talks included presentations on Towing, Vintage Airstreams, Riveting, Airstreaming in Europe, Fulltiming, Bowlus Trailers, as well as many others.

Visiting early Airstream models; Ken and Petey Faber, “living little”; Rich and Brett presiding over “Open House.”

Because I was in Jackson for such a short period of time, and because I was traveling back and forth between a hotel and the convention grounds (I had to fly because of personal time constraints), I was unable to attend some of the talks, to include one on Route 66 and another on Yoga. Still, I met these presenters, and because of luck with timing was able to spend a little time with each of these people.

Through this luck, which I’ll categorize as a “random sample,” I concluded that the Airstream group as a whole is adventurous, excited about life in general, exceedingly curious, and loves to travel.

“SAMPLED” COUPLES

Specifically, I spent time with Ken and Petey Faber, a delightful couple who after retiring from one career, subsequently turned to restoring older Airstreams creating Vintage Airstreams,  “Mostly,”  said Petey,  “small ones. We live little,” she laughed.

As well Ken and Petey gave a seminar on Route 66, and they have traveled this romantic old historic route in its entirely, from Chicago, Illinois, to Los Angeles, California.

sKY & slaDE “fulltime” in their 34-foot Airstream Classic doing two things: Sky diving and teaching Yoga, but with a twist.

“sKY & slaDE” was another other couple with whom I spent time, and though they call themselves “Yoga Instructors,” in reality they are much more. Both are sky divers, and sKY (as she configures her name) has made about 1,300 jumps, while slaDE (as he configures his name), has made about 700. As I later learned, the couple also yet another blog, with postings that completely concur with my own environmental philosophy.  Take time to scroll down and you’ll also find lots of Airstream maintenance.

Adam examining predecessor of more conventional Airstream

I met the couple Friday, the day of my departure — and unfortunately at the end of one of their performances — but they offered to provide a demonstration in front of their 34-foot, 60th Anniversary Limited Edition 1991 Airstream Trailer. Their routine combined gymnastics with yoga and demonstrated not only great agility but also great strength.

LOVE YOU ADAM AND SUE!

Actually, the one couple with whom I spent the greatest amount of time was Adam and Sue, whom I again owe a debt of gratitude. Last summer I threw my back out as we were climbing the Chilkoot Pass in Alaska. Being the compassionate folks they are, they took the majority of items from my pack enabling me to hobble out with the aid of my trekking poles. (Note: my doctor says it was just plain bad luck and that I should definitely try again.)

And now, this past week, they gave me a place to hang out after the frantic flight from Montana to Ohio and the discombobulating sense associated with the acclimation to strange faces milling in new places — and the recoup time needed after seminars. So thank you once again, Adam and Sue!  I love you both!

Because of the life style Janie and I have followed, in the 12 years we have been Airstreaming we have never before attended a rally, but after meeting so many delightful people and learning so much we may try working more into our future. Certainly the community of Airstream enthusiasts (many are retired) know how to age gracefully using a premier form of travel. But more significantly, Airstream has a history and certainly a cache. As well, it seems that there is an adequate infusion of young blood into this “niche group” so I have faith the market will not stagnate.

Regrets? Only that I didn’t allow more time and that Janie wasn’t with me to share.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Natchez Trace National Parkway

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©Bert Gildart: Here are a few images that should help us recall the incredible sacrifices our soldiers have made over the years. They include images commemorating soldiers from the Civil War and from WW II.

The cornfield image recalls the general location at Antietam National Battlefield where 21,000 soldiers charged through stands of corn only to be mowed down by opposing forces as they stepped into the open. The Church recalls where a brief truce was declared at Antietam so that Confederates and Union soldiers could collect their dead and administer to the wounded. Nowhere in the history of our nation have so many perished in the course of a single day.

The World War II images are both from Washington D.C. and celebrate our Capitol Parks. Both memorials are relatively new and the one of nurses recall their contributions to the military.

The night shot with the Lincoln Memorial in the back is the newest of the memorials and commemorates veterans of WW II.

Click to See Larger Version of Each Image

Over the years I’ve posted blogs about Memorial Day and about my absolute devotion to our men in uniform. For the most part, the men and women who have given their lives have fought for our country and have done so without regard to their own political beliefs, and so should be honored in that way, which I hope my blogs of the past (Blog one, blog 2) suggest.

ALUMAPALOOZA

And now let me say that I’ll be away from home for the next few days, flying on Tuesday to Jackson Ohio to give “Slide” presentations for an International Airstream gathering, organized by Rich Luhr of Airstream Life Magazine. He calls this gathering  “Alumapalooza.”

One program will concern our national parks (see: Airstream Camping tips) with much emphasis placed on Glacier National Park now celebrating its centennial. In the program I’ll also be talking about Glacier’s grizzly bears and how things have changed for the better since the tragic maulings in 1967 when two girls were fatally mauled.

The other program will concern photography, and naturally I look forward during these presentations to seeing some of the Airstream enthusiasts with whom I’ve become friends. As well, I’m hoping to make new friends at the convention and hope those with whom I share mutual interests won’t hesitate to hang around after the program. I’ll be returning home Friday, the day after my second presentation, and be reporting on the trip soon thereafter.

Looking forward to Airstream Life’s Alumapalooza 2010 — and  all the activities planned for this big rally…

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THIS THREE  YEARS AGO:

*In Defense of Dandelions

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©Bert Gildart: In about a week I’ll be departing Montana, flying to Jackson, Ohio, to make several “slide” presentations for Rich Luhr’s Aluma Palooza, a huge international gathering of Airstream Travel trailers.

When Oregon Grape appears in Montana, warm days are not far behind.

One of my presentations will concern photography, and a portion of the talk will certainly include a bit about capturing images of flowers, generally a popular subject. Spring is a good time for such talks as the season is always crowned with beautiful displays, and one of those is beginning to occur right now not only in our back yard, but also in Glacier National Park. In our wooded property a particularly colorful  species  is growing at the base of several Douglas Fir trees.

OREGON GRAPE

Right now Oregon Grape is putting out a dazzling florescence of yellow, and there are two ways to capture this beauty: you can use strobes (also see: strobes & mushrooms), or you can wait until natural conditions are just right and then take your picture. This morning, there was no breeze, the sun was muted by clouds reducing harsh shadows,  so rather than using strobes as I often do to simulate such lighting, I set my camera on a tripod, attached a cable release so there would be absolutely no camera movement, set my f-stop to f-25 for depth of field and the shutter speed to .6 of a second. Then I depressed the cable release (no camera movement),  and because there wasn’t even the hint of a breeze  the slow shutter speed worked perfect. No part of the plant is blurred by movement of any kind and the depth of field reveals detail throughout.

Since college, Oregon Grape has been one of my favorite plant species. In a Montana State University botany class we were required to make a plant collection of spring wild flowers and then take one from that collection and describe it in detail. I selected Oregon Grape and my research revealed that the plant has antibiotic and anticancer properties. Scientists have discovered that the plant also contains properties effective in speeding recovery from giardia, candida, viral diarrhea, and from cholera.

In the fall, grapes can be harvested and used for making a tart but very palatable grape jelly. Though I’ve never had the opportunity to try the jelly others I know have, and they say it is tasty.

The species grows throughout the United States and Canada in cool, damp climates, and though not the first spring species to rear it head, is not far behind. Here in Montana, it is always a welcome sight, for it indicates that warm days are not far behind.

Hurray!

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO

*Spring Time In Glacier National Park

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©Bert Gildart: Montana Public TV aired its “Night of the Grizzlies” documentary May 17 and if nothing else the program has reunited many of us who played some part in the twin tragedies of 1967. Since that time I’ve visited by telephone with friends in various parts of the country who appeared in the documentary. We’ve rehashed the program, and we’ve reviewed the problems that brought about the fatal mauling of the two college women on that black night of August the 12th. What, we’ve all agreed upon, is that the producers did a magnificent job of tying together the times with the tragedy, recalling as they did the biology and legends of g-bears, the magnificent setting in which the maulings occurred — and even the fact that 1967 was “The summer of love.” (Remember, Brian, Daniela, and David?)

There is one fact, however, that keeps creeping in, and that is:  that the probability of these two maulings occurring on the same night was infinitesimal. “A trillion to one,” some said,  but that is not a figure I’m comfortable with. I think the odds were less — considerably less, and I think it important to understand the conditions and never forget, least we again create a problem situation.

GARBAGE THE PROBLEM

Here is my rationale, and it is based in part on a considerable amount of research I conducted for a major story I wrote for Smithsonian magazine about bears and bear maulings. I wrote the story in the mid 1980s after another horrible twin mauling occurred on Divide Creek, also in Glacier. In this case a young couple (Ammerman and Eberly) were camped (OK, so they were illegally camped, considering the outcome who cares ?) adjacent to the creek which was unknowingly in the path that a grizzly bear followed almost every night on its way to a garbage dump, one located just outside of the park. My research emphasized that there was little that would stop a bear intent on feeding on garbage. Highly charged electric fences didn’t work, and sadly the obstacle of two campers didn’t work either. The result was another twin tragedy.

Click to see larger image. L to R:  Kintla Lake was my first ranger station; examining rogue grizzly bear and discovering glass embedded in its teeth;  Bert Gildart with rogue bear shot at Trout Lake.

In the above four cases, garbage was always the problem, for it had created bears that were conditioned to easily obtainable food sources –  food they’d come to associate with the smell of people. As a result, these bears had lost their fear of people, or in the words of biologists, they had become “habituated.” (Note: That’s not the way things are today! Despite a larger bear population, Glacier has  fewer problems, something that should also be remembered and that I really want to emphasize!)

Though the term habituation was not familiar in 1967, bears at both Granite Park Chalet and Trout Lake were certainly habituated. They craved garbage and absolutely nothing would stand in their way.

THEY WERE DUMPING GARBAGE

Certainly this is all in retrospect and is not to imply  managers at the time would have knowingly tolerated a situation that might have lethal consequences. I say that even though both David Shea and I had reported our findings to authorities at headquarters. As the “Night of the Grizzlies” retrospective brought out, one week prior to the maulings, Shea and I had hiked to Granite Park Chalet and had witnessed a horrible spectacle in which chalet personnel were dumping garbage over the balcony to lure grizzly bears in for free food. Our report was ignored but that may have been because Glacier was experiencing one of the worst fire seasons ever, and so headquarters was mostly without a nearby permanent staff, which is where authority ultimately rested.

Garbage was also present at Trout Lake and in such immense quantities that another monster situation had been created.  I once found cans of  honey, pancake mix, cans of tuna,  rotten sandwiches — enough discarded garbage to fill 17 burlap sacks later flown out in a helicopter, and that was just for starters! In other words, here were two completely separate situations and each could have but one outcome, and that was a mauling.

If my basic assumption is ball-park correct, then statisticians should view things differently. Rather than “a trillion to one,” the odds change and are based more on the number of days during which a probable mauling might occur.

Generally, Glacier’s approximately 300 maulings (10 fatal) have occurred between the months of July and September, though there are several notable exceptions. In 1998 rangers were notified that Craig Dahl had not returned from a May 17 hike. A search was conducted and the man’s remains were found on May 20. On the other seasonal extreme,  a sow and two cubs attacked and killed photographer John Petranyi on October 3, 1992, near Granite Park Chalet. No one can say with complete certainty what prompted the attacks because no one was there. But people can speculate, saying that perhaps it was photographic aggression or perhaps the hikers had a surprise encounter with the  sow and her cubs. (Today, before you venture into the backcountry you are required to watch a video that informs on ways to avoid surprise encounters.)

MAULINGS WERE A GIVEN

Most of Glacier’s other maulings (some with black bears lured into cars for better photo ops), however, have occurred between July and September, and isn’t it acceptable  then to focus on this three-month period,  a time frame of about 90 days?  Again, I want to emphasize that I believe the 1967 maulings were a given, that under the circumstances they were absolutely inevitable! If that’s the case, the probability of a mauling occurring on August 12 at Trout Lake was 1 out of 90. The same is true as well at Granite Park Chalet; there could be no other outcome!

Click to See Larger Image:  Ranger Bill Hutchison examining area for grizzly bear sign and finding it in the form of tree markings; sometimes bears turn rogue, generally subsequent to being feed; Heaven’s Peak separates Granite Park Chalet and Trout Lake, the two of which are 8 linear miles apart.

Now let’s take a rule from statistics, one which says that the odds of two separate events occurring at the same time is the product of their individual probabilities, meaning that the likelihood of these two mauling occurring on the same night (say, August 12)  is one in 8,100.

So there you have it, and though I don’t know how mathematically sound my statistical thoughts might be, I certainly think the odds are considerably less than a “trillion to one” or “infinitesimal,” as several seemed to think. . Still, that’s the virtue of such programs and such dialog:  they start you thinking…

From a personal perspective I am delighted for the small part I was able to contribute to the program and pleased many of my images (perhaps 25) were used by director Gus Chambers. To help set the background for my thoughts I’ve included a few of those pictures (above) in this posting.  My thoughts also suggest that though conditions were ripe for these two maulings, such is no longer the case.

Today, Janie and I frequently hike in Glacier without any  concern that marauding bears are stalking us, for these are decidedly different times, as I noted in a recent magazine article about bears. As biologist/author Doug Chadwick, who also served as the program’s commentator, said: “We’re learning to live with bears, and I think they’re learning to live with us.”

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NOTE:  As a guest speaker, I’ll be showing  the above photographs (and many others, too) between June 2 and June 4 at an International Airstream Rally in Jackson, Ohio. My program will also highlight Glacier, now celebrating its centennial.  Unfortunately, I’ll be flying and not traveling in our RV, which I regret.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

*Memorial Day, On a Personal Note

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©Bert Gildart:  Tonight PBS will be airing on Montana Public TV its long awaited retrospective on Night of the Grizzly. The retrospective draws on an immense number of interviews conducted over the past few years with individuals who were in some way involved with the dual tragedy which occurred August of 1967. In a single night two young women were fatally mauled in two entirely different locations in Glacier National Park. One of the maulings occurred at Granite Park Chalet, the other at Trout Lake. Peripherally, I was involved at Granite Park Chalet but at Trout Lake, I was directly involved (see link just above).

When bears link the odor of food with people, they become "habituated" -- and very dangerous.

Both maulings were the direct result of habituation, a situation in which bears have lost all fear of people. Usually that results when bears have come to associate food with people and that is precisely what happened in these two cases. At Granite Park Chalet managers were placing food just outside the chalet so guests could see bears more intimately.

GLACIER’S BACKCOUNTRY LOOKED LIKE A GARBAGE DUMP

At Trout Lake, hikers were disposing of unused food and over the years the campground had come to resemble a garbage dump. In fact, subsequent to the mauling, Chief Ranger Ruben Hart and I returned to Trout Lake in a helicopter and loaded it with 17 burlap sacks full of refuse. That was just for starters. Most other campgrounds in the park had similarly deteriorated.

Since 1989 (when I became a free-lance writer)  I have written a number of articles about bears and the problems that result from habituation. One of the stories appeared in Smithsonian while others have appeared in many outdoor publications. Because of our RV travels, I frequently write travel stories now for the RV industry, and this month’s issue of MotorHome Magazine allows me to merge my evolution of feelings about bears along with thoughts about Glacier National Park’s centennial.

MOST unhabituated bears avoid people.

Over the years I’ve also posted a number of blogs about bears, mostly favorable to the park’s handling of bears, though not all.

WOULD HAVE JOINED HUNTING PARTY

Subsequent to the maulings I would gladly have joined a hunting party intent on eliminating grizzly bears from Glacier. But with the massive clean up of Glacier backcountry and with the implementation of a Bear Management Plan, my feeling have changed, for I believe you are safer now in Glacier’s backcountry than you are driving to the park. Essentially, that is because bears are once again wild and are not habituated. In other words, hikers are now dealing with wild bears, and when you see one of the magnificent animals created by the eons you may understand why Glacier would be bereft should they disappear.

I’ll be watching the PBS program tonight at 8 pm certainly because they’ve included interviews with me, but more importantly, I want to see how others now feel about bears.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*They were “Honeyed Up”, Reflections from My Days as a Backcountry Ranger

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Superintendent Chas Cartwright urging another century of commitment

©Bert Gildart: For the thousand-plus people who attended Glacier National Park’s 100-year celebration held May 11, 2010, the day could not have been better. The weather was perfect and the audience was in accord with the various dignitaries who offered remarks, which carried much meaning.

Backdropped by mountains in the Apgar Range and beneath a perfectly blue sky, Glacier Superintendent Chas Cartwright provided opening thoughts in which he summarized some of the ways in which Glacier now appears on a world stage.

He recalled that the 1.1 million acre park is a World Heritage Park, an International Peace Park and a Biosphere Preserve. He urged everyone to recommit to the support and protection of this sacred land we call Glacier.

“As we move into the second century,” said Cartwright,” the continued preservation of this special place is in the hands of the stewards we engage today.”

HEAVEN’S PEAK LOOKOUT

Cartwright, who is on a fast track to becoming the crowd-pleasing advocate of wilderness designation for much of Glacier, also talked about refurbishing the old but historic Heaven’s Peak Fire Lookout, which seemed to interest everyone.

He said that last year he had threaded his way through the underbrush with Resource Specialist Jack Potter and that as they ascended the lofty saddle between Heaven’s Peak and the old Heaven’s Peak Lookout he’d asked Potter, “When do we pick up the trail?”

“This,” Potter had said, “is the trail.”

Others spoke, too, and Montana Lt. Governor John Bohlinger recalled he’d been coming to the park since he was ten years old and that “[Glacier has] a long history of enchanting people.”

Superintendent Chas Cartwright with Willie Sharp, Lt. Governor John Bohlinger and Rusty Tatsy.

Bill Schustrom, a highly respected Glacier interpretive ranger for the last 22 years, said he wondered if President Taft “realized what he was setting in motion” as he was establishing Glacier as a protected national park.

POIGNANT THOUGHTS FROM NATIVE AMERICANS

Though all remarks were enthusiastically applauded speakers whose comments seemed particularly poignant were the Native Americans from the Blackfeet and Salish-Kootenai Reservations. Though Willie Sharp Jr, Steve Lozar and Rusty Tatsey all used different words, the general theme recalled past struggles as the government down- sized lands the tribes once dominated – and that included portions of what is now Glacier National Park.

CLICK TO SEE LARGER IMAGE. L to R: Blackfeet Tribal Chairman Willie Sharp, Salish-Kootenai College Instructor Steve Lozar, Blackfeet Tribal Vice-Chairman Peter ‘Rusty’ Tatsey.

Nevertheless, the men recognized the times for what they are and seemed to be saying that national park designation enabled Glacier to protect the mountains, valleys and the spiritual qualities their respective tribes so cherished.

“When our family experiences illness,” said Blackfeet Tribal Chairman Willie Sharp, “here is where we come.”

Four former Glacier superintendents joined Glacier's current superintendent, Chas Cartwright, center. Flanking Cartwright are Phil Iversen and Dave Mihalic to his right and Mick Holm and Bob Haraden to his left.

Several of the state’s leaders could not be present. Stand-ins, however, read speeches from the podium for Sen. Ryan Zinke, for Senator Jon Tester and for Rep. Denny Rehberg. Montana Senator Max Baucus wasn’t present either but from past experiences I am sure that he very much wanted nothing more than to attend. Once he and I climbed Triple Divide and in 1992 I escorted him around Arctic Village, Alaska, immediately adjacent to the Arctic Refuge. I was gratified when his stand-in said that on Monday night (May 10^th) Baucus passed a resolution recognizing the park’s 100th birthday.

YOU’LL NEVER BE THE SAME

Baucus who recently helped settle oil and gas leases (much clapping) near Glacier offered a remark which fit this day of great harmony. “Once you’re in Glacier National Park, “said Baucus, “You’ll never be the same.” The remark drew one of the many standing ovations offered throughout the day and was in perfect accord with Superintendent Cartwright who offered an appropriate challenge:

“Together,” said Cartwright, “we can insure Glacier National Park remains a jewel in the Crown of the Continent.”

Without qualification, all seemed to be in accord.

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THIS TIME ONE YEAR AGO:

*Natchez Trace and Arctic Refuge Images Used by Various Publications

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©Bert Gildart: One hundred years ago, today, 1.1 million acres in the northwest part of Montana was set aside as the nation’s 10^th national park. Like all young college people, many features combine to influence my life, but none had more of an impact on me than this wild country we now call Glacier National Park.

Mountain Goat at Gunsight Pass back dropped by Lake Ellen Wilson

For me it all began in 1961 in Washington, D.C., where I waved good bye to my aunt and uncle — who literally and figuratively pointed the way — and boarded a Greyhound bus. Three long days and nights later I arrived in Great Falls, Montana,  where I found a run-down hotel adjacent to a raucous bar. I was impressed but exhausted, and without the movement of the huge bus fell asleep before I could muster the energy to investigate the mysteries behind dark curtains and neon lights.

GREYHOUND WEST

Next day, I boarded a local bus and was overwhelmed as it ascended from the trough channeling the Missouri River to the top of a steep butte — where I soon sat stunned by my first real view of the Rocky Mountains, still clad in winter snow. Behind me sat two elderly Indian men, speaking in their native language. They were bound for the nearby Blackfeet Indian Reservation and the combination of Indians and rugged mountains seemed to posses the  potential for raw adventure — and that is what I craved.

Five hours later the bus pulled into West Glacier and so began what has become a life-long passion for this land born out of the chaos of great tectonic forces.

FOR LARGER RENDITION, CLICK ON EACH IMAGE. L To R: Going to Sun Mountain, David Gildart hiking by mountain goats, Granite Park Chalet, Chief Earl Old Person renaming Trick Falls as Running Eagle Falls.

For a number of years I worked in the park on the eradication of white pine blister rust. As well, new friends and I hiked many of the back country trails and here is where my experiences began to mount. In fact, the experiences were so influential that I returned to college after a prolonged hiatus, enrolling at Montana State University. However, I always continued with my summer work in Glacier National Park.

During these first few summers, I made marathon hikes and recall that during my first summer I got lost. Another summer I climbed Chief Mountain and, then, just weeks later, climbed another prominent one known as Heaven’s Peak. I did so with Ken Price (now a high school principle in Helena, Montana) and David Wilson, and if Wilson is still alive, his life may have been altered more than any other person to work in  Glacier.

PERMANENTLY MISSING PERSON

Essentially, David was a loner, and the very next weekend he climbed Going-to-the-Sun Mountain (just above on left) alone, but after that, he was never heard from again. We know Wilson reached the top as he signed the register, but then, nothing! The park conducted a thorough search organized and lead by Bob Frauson, a former 10^th Mountain Ranger. At the time of the search Bob had become a district ranger in Glacier and I remember that he spaced us out in a way that enabled us to scour the woodlands. Again, nothing. And then an expert mountain-climbing group combed the entire climbable  route (and fringe route too) but again, nothing.

Later, Bob researched David’s background and expressed thoughts that there was much about his makeup that might have prompted him to stage a grand disappearance, something friends who know him also thought plausible. If that is the case, I liken him to Christopher McCandeless (AKA as Alexander Supertramp) who rejected his family by going “Into The Wild.” But unlike Supertramp who died in a school bus in Alaska, hope exists that David’s life did not end tragically. Perhaps, he’s somewhere in South America. At any rate, no trace has ever been found of David Wilson.

CHANGED LIVES

As the years went by I applied for seasonal work in Glacier as a ranger and continued with my love of exploring the park’s wilderness trails. As part of my work I fought fire, worked on bear management, gave tickets, endured the historic flood of 1964, introduced my children to the park’s backcountry, and continued my explorations of this incredible park. The adventures mounted and subsequently paved the way for a life in newspaper and magazine work as an outdoor writer and photographer. Later, my interest in Glacier evolved to the point where I became interested in all of America’s national parks, which Janie and I now explore at length.

FOR LARGER VERSION CLICK ON EACH IMAGE.  L to R: Mountain goat kids at Logan Pass, Chief Mountain, hiking to Grinnell Glacier, grizzly bear on trail to Iceberg Lake.

Others, I know, can also tell  stories of life-altering changes, but  what many of us share in common is that it all began with Glacier. That’s something many may be recalling today. Possibly they’ll be doing so throughout the country, but for sure at park headquarters in the conference center. Day’s events will began with opening comments by Superintendent Charles Cartwright and will run through the afternoon. I’ll be attending, and perhaps I’ll run into some of my own buddies and learn more about what changes this magnificent park have wrought.

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THIS TIME (Almost!) TWO YEARS AGO:

*National Bison Range Celebrates 100 Years

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©Bert Gildart: Last week Janie and I parked our Airstream  at Seeley Lake while attending the annual convention of the Northwest Outdoor Writer’s Association of America (NOWA). The conference was held at the Double Arrow Resort, a beautiful facility just a few miles south of our quiet mountain camp.

During our three-day convention we took advantage of field trips, and seminars, and we visited with a number of members with whom we’ve become good friends.

Swan Mountain Range reflects in Seeley Lake

Because of harsh weather, many of the events were cancelled, but Janie and I managed to squeeze in a trip to the Blackfoot Clearwater Wildlife Management Range. Biologist Tom Toman served as an excellent guide, rehashing the history of wildlife in North America. He said the antelope is one of the few “game” mammals that actually evolved here.

BEARS EVOLVED IN ASIA

Black bears, he said, evolved in Asia and then crossed the Baring Land Mass about 200,000 years ago. He said that elk and grizzlies are relative new comers, having arrived here 20,000 years ago.

Despite the timing, both species of bears evolved from a common stock known as Ursus etruscus. Those ancient forerunners that happened to wind up in the forests learned to climb trees and so came to have more passive temperaments, characterized by today’s black bear.

Tom Toman discusses history of elk managment Blackfoot/Clearwater area.

Those that wound up in the prairies and plains of Asia had to protect their young by being aggressive. Obviously the ones that were the strongest — and most aggressive — ruled the day, and survived to perpetuate their own. Eventually, they became the mighty grizzly bear.

LIGHTROOM “MOST USEFUL” PHOTO EDITING PROGRAM

Regarding seminars, the NOWA convention offered many to include talks on book publishing, magazine writing and photography. Tim Christie, a college instructor from the University of North Idaho, said the Lightroom program was his most useful program, agreeing with two other good friends, Todd Campbell of Boise, Idaho (embedded in story about bears), and Rich Charpentier of Prescott, Arizona. Both these men are excellent photographers.

Also attending the NOWA convention were several sponsors. Jack Rich, a local area outfitter, claimed the distinction of early-day Montana ancestry, and in his case, an ancestor of much distinction. Tom’s great uncle, a Mr. Donne, was a member of the Washburn/Langford/Donne expedition of 1870 which explored an massive section of land just south of Bozeman, Montana. The region was rich with wildlife and all these critters were backdropped by incredible hot springs and immense geysers. Expedition members were so enamored that after nine months of exploration decided that this particular region should not be commercialized but rather be set aside for the enjoyment of all Americans. Image how such a suggestion would be received today! Two years later, this section of Wyoming and Montana was set aside as the world’s first national park, now known as Yellowstone National Park.

Weather wise, the spirits worked against us; still the rain and snow combination broke up soon enough for most conference attendees to return home accompanied by favorable weather.

Plagued by rain and snow, NOWA convention still kept members jumping

Some had hundreds of miles to travel, but for us, the drive was short. Seventy miles later we were back home, and our timing was good, for immediately upon our return snow commenced falling once again and really hasn’t stopped. But there’s a flip side, and that is that the mountains  now glow and have a primordial look that reminds us why we continue to make Montana our sanctuary, our home when we’re not traveling.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

*EIGHTEEN YEAR RETROSPECTIVE

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©Bert Gildart: Nineteen years ago today, Janie and I were married at my sister’s in Poughkeepsie, New York.  Somehow Forrest, my brother-in-law, managed to obtain  reservations for us at the World Trade Center where we stayed the night of May 4th, 1991.  Janie and I both enjoy Broadway hits, so that night we took in CATS. As well, we dined in the restaurant once located at the top of one of the  Twin Towers.

Obviously we’re saddened that we can no longer return to the World Trade Center. But our sadness is obscured by the immense tragedy of lives lost subsequent to the bombing on 9/11 and the way in which the lives of so many others were forever altered.

We’re reminded of the World Trade Center certainly because we honeymooned there, but also because of the recent car bombing attempt in Times Square.  From the Internet, I’ve just learned that an alleged perpetrator has been apprehended. Now, if we could only bring Osama Bin Laden to justice, alive  — or dead!

Nineteen years of travel since departing the World Trade Center, much with our Airstream

SHIFTING TO UPBEAT NOTE

On a more upbeat note, since departing New York and returning to Montana, our lives have been made incredibly rich with many travels, and for those interested in a sampling, simply click on the months located in the archives to the right of this post.

A few highlights might include experiences in the Arctic (boating Adventure) and the travels throughout Canada (Kayaking Bay of Fundy) and the U.S. (Dry Tortugas) in our Airstream.

We are now accepting congratulatory  thoughts.

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Snow, we can't escape it!

©Bert Gildart: Try as we might, it seems impossible to escape winter (see-1; see-2). At the moment, we’re attending a writer’s conference, specifically, the Northwest Outdoor Writer’s Association, an affiliate of the Outdoor Writer’s Association of America.

This year, our chapter has convened at Seeley Lake, a beautiful and remote lake located in Montana — and south of our home near Bigfork by about 70 miles. Though last week it was sunny with real hints of summer, this week (and this is not unheard of for late April early May in Big Sky Country) the weather man says we will have snow. And behold, we now have it!

Though we have not been hit too badly at these lower lake elevations, in the higher elevations, clouds dumped 12 to 18 inches of the white stuff, most notably in Glacier National Park and on Marias Pass, which really saw the return of winter. From what the weather man says, we can expect this type of weather to persist for the next three to four days, the duration, in other words, of our conference.

CHOICE OF ACCOMMODATIONS

Though most everyone is staying at the Double Arrow, a beautiful lodge that has offered our group discounted rates, we have never-the-less chosen to camp at Tamaracks Resort Campground, which is also beautiful and certainly much cheaper, an important consideration for us after just putting out a considerable sum for repair of our transmission. But even if finances had not been a concern, we’ve gotten to the point where we simply prefer our Airstream to commercial accommodations, despite the beauty that Double Arrow also offers.

Right now, the deer are munching on willows just outside the window of our camper, and last night we drifted to sleep to the garbled wail of loons. We’ll take what we get and enjoy what we get. That not too hard to do as most of our time will be spent renewing friends with NOWA’s interesting members and attending the seminars, which are always  beneficial.

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THIS TIME LAST YEARS:

*New Book From Falcon on GNP

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