Clay struggles not to be a Grumpy Old Man

©Bert Gildart: Tarnations! but how can aging male ice fishermen be anything but Grumpy Old Men? Up at the crack of dawn, pulling heavy sleds loaded with all kinds of gear–sinking at times to our ankles in mush ice that yet capped Lake Mary Ronan. Little wonder that during down time on this northwest Montana lake we tended to dwell on sciatic nerves, rotator cups, and PSA levels.

PERCH CHARACTERISTICS

Yesterday, there were four of us: John Clay, John Moore, Marc Nichols, and yours truly, and we all had visions of the mighty perch dancing in our heads. In this part of the country perch are no different from perch anywhere else. They have dorsal fins that jut up about one-half inch, and body color that tends to be chartreuse. As well, they have vertical par marks.

Catching perch does not require a great effort other than just enduring temperatures that on a typical day may not rise much above single digit figures.

Set up time may be the most difficult part of an outing. After towing sleds several hundreds yards, you’ve got to dig holes in the ice using a gasoline-powered auger. That takes some time as each fisherman requires three holes: one for the Vexilar Fish Finder, and two for the two poles that ice fishermen tend to use to optimize opportunity.

John Clay’s setup took the most time, for he had a tent mounted on a sled that required some unloading before a quick unfolding. The advantage is that he could encase himself in his own little cocoon, which naturally was the subject of derision by those getting cold.

“Five dollars for five minutes if you’re cold and want to get warm,” yelled Clay from inside where temperatures from his heater approached 70. “Hey, don’t be throwing those small ones [perch] over here. I’ve got pride you know.”

SERIOUS BUSINESS

After setup things got serious. Short rods were quickly baited with tiny ice jigs. Maggots were then attached to the hooks and then lowered through the holes. Depths depend on location in this several mile long lake nestled between the Salish and Mission mountain, but yesterday was about 20 feet.

Marc Nichols greets rising sun

As the novitiate in the group, I joined John Clay inside his tent and he explained the benefits of the Vexilar Fish Finder that the other two fishermen also had. Clay explained that the Vexilar emits a cone of signals from the transducer that is sensitive enough to follow the descent of our lures to the bottom.

FISH FINDER

Perch, we could see from blips on the screen of the finder, were thick and we positioned our lures just above the schools. Often we could follow the action of the fish, watching them as they rose to take the bait. Because I was as interested in photography as I was in fishing, I was in and out of Clay’s shelter (”Hey, you’re letting the cold in.”), trying to learn from everyone about this art of ice fishing.

“Fish haven’t got a chance,” laughed John Moore, who quickly began pulling perch from the hole. “When perch bite you can hardly feel it, and sometimes you know it only by the slight wiggle in the tip of the rod.”

“Don’t yank too hard,” admonished Marc Nichols, picking up his skimmer to scoop out slush ice forming in the hole. “Don’t want to tear the lure loose–or throw out your rotator cup.”

John Moore and catch of fish

Because each female perch produces thousands of eggs and because so many live, there’s no limit on the amount of perch you can keep. Most were small, though several may have approached 10 to 11 inches. We fished for about five hours and our combined catch averaged about 15, meaning that my eight were offset by the 50-plus caught by Moore, Clay and Nichols.

SLOW DAY

“It’s a slow day,” said Moore, who often returns with 30 to 40 perch following a day’s fishing–as well as a few kokanee salmon and rainbow.

Mess of perch, just part of day’s catch

Gathering our fish, we tossed them into a bag. But then comes the hard part, for the rule among sportsmen is nothing you catch goes to waste. For me, that meant about an hour of filleting, setting me up as the grumpiest Old Man of the day, for the work is tedious, particularly if you haven’t done it for awhile.

But the rewards that night of fresh perch for dinner removed the grump from the Old Man part of my day’s designation. But I’m not sure about the others, who are probably still talking about rotator cups, sciatic nerves and (the Good Lord only knows) the amount of Omega 3 fatty acid in their daily diets.

©Bert Gildart: After eating all the unpicked apples we left hanging on one of our trees, turkeys are back on our feeder. We had thought to let the apples ripen then pick them before a hard freeze. Our timing, however, was bad, but that’s OK, as they became food for the birds, including the turkeys now massing beneath our porch and even on our deck. Yesterday, for instance, we battled two huge gobblers intent on devouring ever bit of seed we placed in the feeder.

Return of the Turkeys

Turkeys are relatively new to the valley; in fact, there were no wild turkeys in Montana prior to the 1950s. But over 60 years ago 18 Merriam’s turkeys were introduced into the state near Billings, nearly 500 miles away. Within three years, the population numbered 750 birds. From there, the population took off and now, according to state fish and game biologists, turkeys in Montana may number as many as 150,000. Of course that makes the hunters happy and every now and then neighboring farmers allow them on their land.

Introduced in Montana about 1950, turkeys have expanded range

Once I used to hunt them as well, but today, disruptive as they may be (see Thanksgiving pardon ), we enjoy hearing their daily clucking–and even laugh at their antics when they land on the railing of our porch. One has grown pretty aggressive, ignoring our banging on the glass window making us ask: Has the reintroduction been too successful?

Partridge in pear tree? No, turkey in our apple tree

In fact, one old bird lingers until we open the door to the porch and then start walking toward it, at which time the old gobbler takes a short hop, spreads its wings and soars into the yard. There it settles and there it watches–knowing that sooner or latter the feeder will once again be all hers.

Hmmm, maybe I’ll take back up turkey hunting.

©Bert Gildart: This morning we were startled by a call from my daughter, Angie, followed shortly thereafter by a call from the sheriff’s office in Kalispell, Montana. They were calling to tell us that two escaped parolees from Oregon were in our IMMEDIATE area (Creston, Montana), that they were armed and dangerous, that they had shot at a SWAT team and that we should lock our doors.

Are you safe? Watch its eyes.

About the same time we started getting calls from all over Flathead Valley asking us if we’d heard the news? “Lock your doors,” everyone said. “Stay inside.”

Now, two hours later, and we’ve just heard they were caught. Though we don’t yet know the specifics before posting this blog I will have that information.

In the meantime, I want to talk a bit about moose, specifically bull moose, which can also be dangerous. First, I should mention that just a few weeks ago I was turned back from an intended visit to the Tetons while in Yellowstone. Snow had temporarily closed the park’s southern entrance, the one leading to Jenny Lake and to the Grand Tetons. But two years ago it didn’t, and two years ago I had some of the best luck I’ve ever had.

In photography, you have to size every opportunity, and that’s what we attempted to do.

EVIL EYE

Photographing moose is a always a ticklish situation–like going out this morning with a .44 magnum pistol to make sure the escaped parolees weren’t hiding out in our Airstream. In other words, it’s something you do with some caution and certainly some means of protecting yourself.

With moose, however, you’ve got a bit of an advantage, ’cause if you see one from a respectful distance you can scope it out. With escapees, it seems you could easily stumble into something totally unexpected. Not so, it seems with bull moose, if, that is, you pay attention to your surroundings.

When spotting a moose you can further assess the situation by checking out the animal’s eyes, and I must admit, I did not like the look in this fellow’s eyes. Nevertheless, he was laying down, and continue to remain prone even as I approached from behind a grove of aspen trees.

Back dropped by the Tetons, moose fight

Still, as I continued my search of the marsh, I gave this fellow a wide berth, simultaneously checking behind me, to the sides and to my front. About a half hour later I came upon a cow moose with a young of the year. They were grazing placidly, and could have cared less whether or not I was there.

But then I came across two large bull moose. These were gladiators sporting large antlers and both were on the verge of using them.

ANTLERS AND SOCIAL STATUS

Often antler size alone prevents fights, for other moose evaluate them and it tells them much about the individual. There’s nothing magic about it, and, not surprisingly, large antlers mean the moose has a high social status among other bull moose. But these two moose apparently couldn’t make that judgment call, and so they continued circling one another; probing, searching for an area of vulnerability, like two boxers in a ring, jabbing; constantly jabbing, jabbing, jabbing.

Moose battling

Biologists say that bull moose do not inflict great injury to one another. Bulls may meet head to head and use their antlers to push and knock each other around, but, generally, unlike other species, they don’t try and kill one another. Usually the only physical contact between rivals is antler to antler, which allows males to settle disputes over who is the better, without causing serious injury. Not so with sheep and particularly with mountain goats, which may stab one another with their horns. In such cases if a stab wound occurs in the area of the stomach, peritonitis may follow, then, in some cases, death.

The object of their affection

In the case of my two moose, the animals apparently had little to resolve. The fight continued for a long time, but then suddenly ceased with the two animals simply walking away from one another.

APPREHENSION

But not so with the two criminals who managed to evade the SWAT team for hours. As I’ve just learned, one of the escapees was caught in his underwear about a mile from our home in this very rural setting. He was caught near the river.

The other man somehow managed to evade immediate arrest but was eventually apprehended several miles away near the highway. Apparently he had dashed across plowed fields then tried to flag down a ride. One of the people whom he attempted to flag down had heard the alert and responded by calling the police–specifying location. Shortly thereafter–at gunpoint–the man was arrested.

Both men were, in fact, armed and dangerous. They had invaded the home of someone nearby. They had beaten the woman and her friend and then tried to escape. But there, they were foiled…

LADY LOVE

This isn’t the first time the criminal element has invaded our community. Obviously things are changing in our once quiet valley, so give me an evil-eyed moose any day, even a belligerent one looking for his lady love-and probably not willing to let anything stand in the way of his ardor. That’s a much better scenario; in fact, it’s a great scenario.

Launching boat in Swan Lake

©Bert Gildart: New England, Arkansas and the South are often touted as being some of the nation’s best sites for reveling in the splendor of fall, but I’d like to add another site and that is Montana, particular those places west of the Continental Divide.

For the past few weeks we’ve been traveling in our RV throughout these regions, and seldom have I seen the colors so brilliant. That observation was even further dramatized several days ago when I joined two good friends on a fishing expedition.

Early that morning we launched Bill’s (described in an early blog–and in newspaper and magazine stories–as a Fishing Fool ) boat in Swan Lake, located along the Seeley Swan Highway just south of Bigfork, and as we did, fog was rising and blending with the colors of the Swan Range.

SPECIES SYNCHRONIZATION

That in itself was dramatic, but combine that with the yellows of cottonwoods and aspens, and then add yet further the gold of tamaracks, and you’ve got an incredible palette of colors.

Autumn reflections on Swan Lake

Montana doesn’t always have such color synchronizations, but this year, because of the right combination of temperature and moisture, aspens and cottonwoods have turned a bit later and tamaracks have turned a bit sooner.

Returning pike

That doesn’t always happen.

Nature then had combined to provide a perfect blend of colors, but the drama of the scene was further enhanced but the stillness of the lake, providing an almost perfect mirror-like reflection.

Fishing was our intended objective, but as a hard core photographer I was more inclined to point my camera in the direction of color than my pole toward the lake. As I result I didn’t do as well as my two friends, both of whom caught pike.

In fact, though I did fish after the fog had lifted and a slight wind began to blow, I didn’t catch a thing. Bill caught a small pike and so did Gene, but because of the size, both returned their catches.

Later, we all agreed that it wasn’t the fishing rather the fall foliage that had created such a memorable day.

Overlooking Bannack

©Bert Gildart: After two weeks of travel throughout Southwestern Montana, we’re back home in Bigfork, Montana. Friends that we were traveling with have departed in their Airstream for Banff, Alberta, and we’re left now thinking back on all the excitement that our excursion provided.

In addition to the wildlife of Yellowstone, the Wolf and Bear Discovery Center of West Yellowstone—and the enchantment of Virginia City and Nevada City—the last leg of our journey took us to Bannack, Montana, the state’s first territorial capital. Here, legends were made and history was recorded, and what is so incredibly neat about Bannack is that not only is it one of the nation’s best preserved ghost towns, but it is a place where legends really do unfold, for stories are everywhere.

VIGILANTE TRAIL

We arrived in Bannack traveling along a small secondary road that leads about 70 miles from Nevada City to Bannack, all, of course, in Montana. Because vigilantes rode back and forth between these two settlements–supposedly to protect traveling gold miners–the route over which we traveled en route to Bannack became known as the Vigilante Trail.

Vigilante Trail

The road parallels several creeks, and the evidence of digging and dredging for gold is still abundant in huge piles of rock. Back dropping all this were the beautiful snowcapped Gravelly Mountains whose peaks were all fringed along its flanks by aspens and cottonwoods now turned gold. Within two easy hours of driving (lots of stops), we were pulling into the old ghost town of Bannack.

GOLD DISCOVERY

Bannack was founded on July 28, 1862, when John White and other members of the “Pikes Peakers” discovered gold in creek waters not far from where Bannack now nestles between several mountain ridges.

Gold Discovery on Grasshopper Creek

According to Wade Hucke, the maintenance man for the park and a man whose great grandfather once dug here for gold, the original site of discovery was on Grasshopper Creek, but not adjacent to Bannack; rather the site is several miles downstream from this well preserved old ghost town.

Relics from the past

“This is a special place,” says Wade. “It’s a place that really provides us with some windows into the past.”

The State Park provides two campgrounds, and we pulled into the first-known as the Vigilante Campground. Here, after quickly setting up, we began our explorations.

The first thing we discovered was that the old ghost town really does bring the past alive. Old wagons stand ready to transport gold; buildings appear inhabitable, and the old jail, Montana’s first, appears ready to accommodate thieves, drunks and murders.

And, there, up on the hill in plain site is one lone gallows. Though it is a reconstructed gallows, it is located in the exact same spot where many a man took the long drop. Most were deserving, but there is speculation about the hanging of one man.

Henry Plummer (historic)

CROOKED SHERIFF

The man’s name was Henry Plummer and he arrived in Bannack in 1863. Glib and persuasive, he was elected sheriff several months later. What was not known by the town’s citizens is that Plummer may well have been the leader of an outlaw gang. Before long road agents began targeting the road between Bannack and Virginia City–the Vigilante Trail–for unwary miners.

Not all heeded the warning, and one man about to be hung pointed a finger at Henry Plummer. Though not immediately convinced, the vigilantes regrouped for several weeks and meditated heavily. Then, fortified with lots of liquor they concluded Plummer was guilty after all.

Long Drop

“JUST GIVE ME A GOOD DROP”

On January 10, 1864 about 75 men gathered up Plummer and marched him to the gallows. Though Plummer begged and pleaded–even offered to tell where $100,000 of gold was buried–the group ignored him. Story has it that Plummer’s final words were, “Just give me a good drop.”

The Vigilantes accommodated him-but was Plummer really guilty? Today, historians aren’t so sure. In fact, one historian we met in Virginia City believes the Vigilantes may have been trying to divert the blame from the true robbers-themselves. Probably we’ll never know.

CHANGING CAPITALS

Though Bannack holds the distinction of being the territory’s first capital, in 1866, gold was discovered in Alder Creek and the town soon shrank, soon having to relinquish its distinction to Virginia City.

But once again, gold was discovered in another part of the state, this time in Last Chance Gulch, soon giving rise to a settlement known as Helena. Its promise of much gold lured miners from Virginia City and from Bannack, and in 1875 Helena became Montana’s capital.

Once Bannack boasted a population of 10,000, but by 1870, Bannack had shrunk to just a few hundred. Today, a few people still live in the territory’s first capital, though most are state employees watching over the old town and renovating structures that need repair.

Windows on the Past

The old town is compelling and it lured Wade Hucke (the maintenance supervisor) from a teaching job in Nevada. He says that each year he and his family gather in Bannack to celebrate his great grandfather’s arrival as a gold miner.

“With all its history and beauty, I can’t imagine a better place to hold a family reunion,” empahsized Wade. “Can you?”

Janie departs "Politician’s Dream."

©Bert Gildart: “That double-decker outhouse was built for politicians,” chuckled Jack Frost. “Can’t you just see them scurrying all around, rushing to the top stall, leaving the one beneath for all the rest of us. Think about it; the message is there. It’s a politician’s dream.”

HISTORIC PRESERVATION

We heard the comment from the caretaker in Nevada City, Montana, as we were traveling with the Luhrs through settings looking far more like winter than like fall.

But for me, that just makes it one of the best of times in Montana. That’s when the summer tourist season is over and when the state returns to those who live here year around. Life is simple, and it reminded me of the way Montana was when I came here out of high school-back in the 1960s. People just seem more relaxed and willing to sit back and share their time and their jokes and, sometimes, their insights into some of the state’s most compelling history. One of those people was Jack, one of the few year round residents of this small settlement located near the crest of the Rocky Mountains.

Nevada City is located two miles along a lonely highway that links with Virginia City, Montana’s first state capitol (not territory capitol) and Jack was one of the first people we encountered. Jack said that he’s here now because he wanted something different from the roofing company he once owned in Dillon, Montana (about 100 miles away). With the help of the local employment service, he found his dream job in 1997. The service agency told him that the History Association needed to take care of all their of old trains and refurbish the historic buildings.

“For me,” said Jack, “it was the perfect job, and I’ve been here ever since.”

FAMOUS MOVIES

But that’s just a part of Jack Frost’s story. Over the years Nevada City has hosted the filming of dozens of famous movies to include Little Big Man and Missouri Breaks, staring Marlon Brando and Jack Nicholson.

Jack Frost

Though Jack has never appeared in the big movies, a talent scout informed him that his beard would fit for small parts, and that’s how this long-beaded man often spends his off hours.

When we meet him, he was playing the part of a bartender in Boots and Bullets, a movie being created by the film department of Montana State University. But Jack was just one of the many interesting people we met.

Two miles away in Virginia City, we met Dan Thyer, who also has interests in Nevada City. Thyer directs the Living History Program in both Nevada City and Virginia City, and is a profession this former rodeo rider finds highly rewarding. With a degree in History Education, Thyer has a crew of about 70. All are volunteers, but all are devoted volunteers, and the list includes professional historians as well as those who have simply had a life-long passion in the history of this state.

PHOTO TECHNIQUES

Because Thyer still looks the part of an old range rider and bronc buster, I wanted to impart the rugged look his face projects, and tried to do so using two Nikon SB-800 strobes, backing off on my camera-mounted strobe by 2/3 of a stop, so creating slight shadows on one side of his face. I wanted to impart the same look to Jack Frost but used natural lighting conditions.

Historian Dan Thyer once a rodeo rider

For Jack Frost, because of our location, I was able to use natural but very dim light-requiring wide-open f-stops and slow shutter speeds. To avoid a fuzzy image associated with the inherent camera movement and slow shutter speeds, I asked Jack to remain as motionless as possible and then stabilized my camera using a tripod.

We continued to visit the historic Virginia City-Nevada City complex over the course of several days. Snow had fallen over the settlement and the setting provided a better feeling of what life could be like in these often lawless communities.

HISTORY STILL LIVES

In 1862 gold was discovered in Alder Gulch, Dakota Territory, and the discovery inaugurated the birth of a new state, a new overnight city, a high degree of lawlessness, and a legacy that endures to this day. Grave markers line a hill overlooking Virginia City, and the touch of winter set off George Lane’s grave marker. As well, it also set off the old shops and buildings once tended by blacksmiths, and the proprietors of boot shops and old dinning facilities.

George Lane

If you’re like us and enjoy a bit of challenge in your travels and in your camping, never pass up late fall travel, for it provides an entirely different ambiance, one that can often bring history alive–and provide insights into the minds of at least some politicians. As Jack Frost concluded in our conversation, “That double tiered outhouse really must be a politician’s dream.”

PURSUING PHOTOS AND PROSE
With Kayaks, Mountain bikes, Backpacks, Daypacks, Walking Sticks, Fishing Poles, and an Airstream Travel Trailer

Nan Worel relates demise of Vigilantes

©Bert Gildart: According to Nan Worel, a waitress at a restaurant in Montana’s Virginia City, the numbers 3+7+7+7 once had–and still have–immense meaning. 3+7+7+7 was the Vigilante Code, “The Code of Law and Order.” If an undesirable neighbor or road agent found those numbers written in blood or red paint on their doors the message was a warning: Leave and don’t come back.

The message also carried with it a time line. Add 3 plus 7 plus 7 plus 7 and that was the number of hours (24 hours) that person had to leave under his own power.

WARNING WENT UNHEEDED

On January 14, 1864, five people were warned, but because they refused to depart they met their demise at the end of the rope. They were buried, according to Nan, in a grave 3 feet wide, 7 feet deep and 77 inches long.

“You can see those graves on Boot Hill located on a hill overlooking what is today our quaint settlement. They are the graves of George Lane, better known as Clubfoot George; Jack Gallagher; Frank Parrish; and Haze Lyons. We know they’re there because six months later town’s people dug up the grave of Clubfoot George, and cut off his foot. It’s in our county museum, and you can see it.”

Today, the Montana Highway Patrol adopted these numbers to honor the First Law and Order brought to the State of Montana.

We meet Nan after driving 72 miles from West Yellowstone. During the night it snowed hard closing much of the park. In a day or two, when roads are cleared, park passes will reopen–but after a week, it seemed that it was time for us to leave. As those of you recall who read my blog on Grant Kohrs , Virginia City, Montana was part of our scheduled trip.

PHENOMENAL MPG

Because the 72 mile road to Virginia City was wet and the temperature hovered between 31 and 36 degrees, we held our speed to about 50 mph, and when I looked at the gauge that measures miles per gallon, I was amazed to see that our Dodge 2004 pickup with its Cummings Diesel engine registered a whopping 17.2 miles per gallon. That’s better than I’ve ever done, but then I’ve never driven a sustained 50 mph. Because I feared patches of ice, that’s the way I drove while towing our Airstream to Ennis, Montana, located just 14 miles from Virginia City.

Departing Yellowstone

Because I once produced a book on Montana’s Missouri River, I was familiar with some of the attractions of Virginia City. The settlement is located high in the state’s Gravely Mountains, which form some of the headwaters of the Missouri River. Waters here also feed Alder Gulch, once described as the “The greatest natural sluice in North America.” Miners flocked here and the restaurant in which we found Nan and all of her history is the same saloon I visited years ago for my book. I’d heard the bar contained historic furnishings, and they’re still there.

Behind the counter where Nan now stood was a huge old bar. Years ago I was told the bar was brought up the Missouri River by steamboat to Fort Benton, located just below Great Falls, Montana. From Fort Benton the bar was transported by ox-drawn wagon to Virginia City–about to become the state’s first, but short-lived, capitol.

TWO STROBES BETTER THAN ONE

Nan had an interesting story to tell and I wanted to photograph her telling her story in front of the historic old bar, and did so with two Nikon SB-8OO strobes to better light such an expansive area.  The strobe on the camera served as the master strobe and wirelessly triggered the strobe Janie was holding. The two-strobe-lighting technique is one I’ve used for years but Nikon made my job a little easier when they introduced their wireless flashes.

Infamous man; famous hanging

MORE HANGINGS

Virginia City is one of two historic settlements still remaining in southwestern Montana; the other is Nevada City, located just two miles north of Virginia City. Though never as large as Virginia City, it, too, had its violent side and on December 21, 1863, George Ives was hung after what history recalls as one of the nation’s most extraordinary trials.

We plan to spend several days here learning more about Montana’s early and quite violent history. Our friends (see previous posting) Rich, Eleanor and Emma Luhr are parked next to us in an Ennis, Montana, campground, and they, too, seem intrigued by all they are seeing.

Listen–and learn to speak like a wolf

© Bert Gildart: This past week we have been camped in both Yellowstone National Park and West Yellowstone with our friends, Rich, Eleanor and Emma Luhr. As we figured out last night, we have rendezvoused with the Luhrs in many places throughout the United States, beginning in Maine. Other states include Vermont, New Jersey, Florida, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Wyoming, and once again, Montana.

At first the common denominator of our friendship was the mutual ownership of our Airstreams, but with time we’ve learned that we share many other interests, such as a love of the outdoors. On several occasions we have day-hiked long distances .

AIRSTREAM LIFE MAGAZINE Rich is the owner-publisher of Airstream Life Magazine , which he produces while traveling on the road. I write for his magazine, usually focusing on national parks. The Luhrs are “Fulltime RVers,” meaning that their RV is their home. Because of their circumstances, they home-school Emma, their seven-year old daughter.

Not all children would respond well to such extensive travel but Emma makes friends everywhere, and she is, of course, exposed to a variety of new experiences, such as hiding food for bears at the Grizzly Wolf Discovery Center.

Yesterday, for instance, while we were out roaming the park, Emma was lifting rocks and logs trying to make it tough for the bears to find food, but as she said, “It didn’t work; they found everything.” Food, of course, is hidden when the bears are in their cages.

The center is an excellent place to learn about nature. Though I focused mostly on bears in my post the other day, the center also educates people about wolves, and if you spend enough time at the wolf compound, you can learn to “Talk Wolf.”

SPEAKING WOLF Wolves are extremely intelligent mammals, but because they don’t do well if taken directly out of the wild, all wolves at the center were born in captivity. Still, they communicate just as their counterparts in the wild.

Bear photography requires long lenses

For starters, they howl and do so for a variety of reasons. They do so to rally the troops before the hunt, to reunite pack members, to tell other packs of their presence and to reinforce social bonds. Likewise, they play for a variety of reasons. Certainly, they play simply for the joy of playing, but they also learn through such interaction about dominance and submission.

Tail position tells part of the story. If it is out straight the wolf is alarmed. If it is between their legs, it feels threatened. Certainly if you own a dog, you’ve seen some of these traits yourself, but in wolves, individuals must know how others in the pack are feeling, for it helps to insure survival. We saw examples of this “language,” in the course of the many hours we spent at their compound.

PHOTO TECHNIQUES Though the wolves at the center are somewhat tolerant of people, it still helps to have long lenses. Though I used an 80 to 400mm lens for several of the photos I took these past few days, the lens I used most was my 600mm, working off a tripod.

The lens is an older manual focus one, but I find that with animal portraits I turn off the auto focus on shorter focal length lenses. With long lenses depth of field is virtually non existent and so you must manually focus on the eye–nothing else will work, and it is virtually impossible to create a tack-sharp eye with auto focus, particularly when there are branches to confuse the sensor. Not only that but generally you must focus on the eye closest too you, otherwise the animal (or person, too, for that matter) will not appear alert and intelligent.

Because the center works at times with the National Park Service, it also provides some information the activities of bears and wolves in the park. It tells about the various Yellowstone packs and today Rich and I will certainly keep our eyes open for wolves, though our goal is to locate a bull and cow moose Janie and I saw yesterday.

Manual focus lenses work best

In Yellowstone, however, you never know what you’ll see. It might be moose, and it might be wolves, and if it is wolves, we’ll know a little more about what they’re saying, for we’ve learned a little about How to Talk Wolf.

Airstream, snow and over-weighted awning

©Bert Gildart: Last night it snowed in Yellowstone National Park and it changed the landscape dramatically. As well, it reminded me that lessons from the past must not be forgotten.

Rain which preceded the snow should have triggered memories, but it didn’t and so I pulled out the awning to protect the generator, which I had started to recharge our batteries. The awning protected the generator, but I forgot that at high elevations rain often changes to snow. At 8 I turned off the generator but didn’t roll up the awning.

Next morning, ice and snow weighed heavy on the awning of my Airstream, and I spent several hours chipping and brushing it all off with a broom. Eventually, with a little help from a much-muted sun, my awning was restored to its normal configuration enabling Janie and me to return to the marvelous landscape that Yellowstone provides. Though that landscape is a year-round one, for me, as a photographer, fall is the most compelling time, and this week has been no exception.

The drama of our time in Yellowstone began near our campground at Madison, about 14 miles from West Yellowstone. Janie and I were scurrying around our trailer when we heard the clear, clarion call of a bull elk. Bulls use their call essentially to warm other bulls from their territory.

Elk bugling creates dramatic fall sound

When other bulls don’t heed the warning, often fights result. The time is one of high drama and I grabbed my camera pack, located the bull and then settled in to watch and photograph it. The animal was an impressive one, and on one side of its “rack” the bull carried eight tines while on the other, seven.

Six tines are most typical and is the number characteristic of a bull that is six years old. When an elk has seven tines it is called an Imperial and when it has eight it is called a Monarch. Because the animal was so cooperative I stayed with it for several hours, using a 600mm lens for head shots and an 80 to 400mm zoom lens for body and group shots. Then we moved on.

October bellowing is not unusual

One of our great hopes has been to find a Great Grey Owl that so many people have seen and that a good friend had photographed with amazing results. Though Janie and I never found the bird, our search was compensated for in other ways. Normally bison are at the height of their rutting season in July through the end of August, but sometimes a cow will calve late and then come into estrus in fall rather than in summer.

According to Katy Duffy the district interpreter here in the Madison area, that’s not an uncommon scenario in Yellowstone, so when we stumbled across a small herd of bison displaying the dramatic lip curls and roaring loudly, we realized we were seeing something that was dramatic for this time of year, but not exceptional.

Again, we stayed with the situation and after several hours, realized from the images on our digital cameras that our time in Yellowstone was paying off.

Snow and elk add drama to Yellowstone landscape

That’s the night snow fell and next day we moved our Airstream to West Yellowstone, passing as we moved a landscape covered with an inch or two of snow. Several elk added balance to the setting, and we couldn’t pass it up. Now we’re bidding our time, taking advantage of the situation to write notes and recharge our batteries and revisit the Grizzly Wolf Discovery Center. And of course we examined our awning. It’s fine, now dry and rolled up into a tight ball.

Camping in Yellowstone at this time of year requires a heads up, but all the drama make the the effort more than worth the effort.

Looks are not deceiving.

©Bert Gildart: Sam, the bear, apparently was hungry. Entering the compound he padded to a large tree and began rocking it back and forth. Food had been placed in a large sack and was located higher than he could reach. When Sam couldn’t bend the tree far enough to reach it, the huge 1,000 pound bear stooped down and with a mighty heave, hefted the tree from it foundation. His reward was the bag of bird seed.

Shortly thereafter we watched as he delivered on a set of facial expressions that sent a hush through our small group.

According to John Heine, director of the Girzzly and Wolf Discovery Center in West Yellowstone, Montana, eight grizzly bears are rotated throughout the day, and when they enter the compound, they are hungry. Sam was the largest of all the bears, and when he entered the center he immediately demonstrated the extent to which he could go when hungry.

Though Sam is large for a Montana grizzly, he is not an exceptionally large bear in the area from which he was rescued. Sam and his sister “Illie” were brought to the center in the fall of 1996. Sam is named after the town of King Salmon where he and Illie were rescued.

Like other bears in the center, he was there because of some unfortunate set of circumstances. Orphaned in 1996 when he was six months old, he had not learned had to care for himself. Without a mother to feed them, Sam, and sister Illie, turned to human food and soon became a nuisance. Wildlife managers trapped the pair, but because they were trapped in Katmai National Park mangers attempted to find them a home, and found one in Montana.

Just playing folks

Though their new home was far from Katmai in Alaska, here at the Grizzly and Wolf Discovery Center they live a life style that seems to provide them with contentment. As well, they are part of a group that serve to educate the public at large in a way that certainly seems to instill respect and awe in all who watch. In fact, the center is so well respected that naturalist in Yellowstone National Park use the huge compound for several of their own educational programs.

Though I was interested in Sam as a photographic subject, I was particularly interested in one of the other bears at the center, specifically a bear that had been removed from Whitefish, Montana, which is near my home in Bigfork. “Spirit” was removed because she had started grazing on lawns and golf courses in the residential areas of Whitefish. In other words, the bear had become a nuisance because it was returning to the area their ancestors had once occupied. Spirit had returned home, but in the course of doing so had become a problem-because her habitat had been replaced with a golf course.

Determination has rewards

Biologists in the Flathead Valley had attempted to employ aversive techniques without luck. They had tried firecrackers, pepper spray, even Karelian dogs, but no luck, for the bear had become conditioned to the food found in unattended bird feeders and garbage that had not been properly disposed, conditions the Wolf and Bear Center focus on in their educational programs.

Sam, the not-so-gentle giant

Such is the background of bears brought into the center, and here, rather than death, they serve a function that Yellowstone Park recognizes as being one of importance. In fact, not only does the park service conduct programs here but various garbage companies use these bears to test the degree to which garbage bins may prove to be tamper resistant.

Though Janie and I both abhor the exploitation of wildlife for commercial gains, this particular complex is a non-profit organization, one that plows much of its earnings back into their educational programs and into the creation of habitat that benefits the various creatures the center has taken in.

We highly recommend it as a way of learning more about several very controversial animals that roam free in Yellowstone National Park, located immediately adjacent to the Grizzly Wolf Discovery Center.

Ranch hand and Belgian horse

©Bert Gildart: “Don’t go anywhere,” said the ranch hand, “I can get those big Belgian horses here to the barn. They’re so easy to work with and they just love the attention.”

Janie and I are back on the road again, traveling throughout Southwestern Montana for the next few weeks, camping in our Airstream as we continue our work gathering material for various magazines. Stop one required a four-hour drive south of our home in Bigfork, Montana to Deer Lodge, site of the Grant Kohrs Ranch, renowned for its living history programs on the life of the cowboy.

An Historic Ranch: The ranch is under the auspices of the National Park Service and it preserves a significant slice of the Old West. Johnny Grant first owned the old ranch but shortly after the Civil War, he sold it to Conrad Kohrs, and today the living ranch not only raises cattle, but interprets life on a ranch reminiscent of the period when cowboys were driving cattle from Texas into Montana. For Old West enthusiasts and movie watches, it interprets the period that picks up from when Gus and Call drove cattle into Montana in the classic movie Lonesome Dove.

Horse use is one of the aspects interpreted at the old ranch and it hard to imagine a more beautiful setting. Several horses trotted to the barn where we stood with the ranch hand. They stuck their heads through the window–all back dropped by Mount Deer Lodge. But soon we moved on for there was so much to see.

Walking around we gravitated toward an old Chuck Wagon. Allen Vaira was interpreting the setup and as he began his narration, I realized I had photographed the man in another setting, in Death Valley, where he worked as a ranger in the late 1990s. For us, that was one of the joys of RV travel, constantly running into people we’ve previously meet but in different and sometimes, exotic, settings.

VIP Bob George intereprets Grant Kohrs Ranch

Chuck Wagon Changes Cowboy’s Life
Though time and distance had altered the substance of what Allen interpreted, his information was sound. He talked about the history of the Chuck Wagon, which he said had been developed by Charles Goodnight. “This wagon improved the cowboys life,” said Allen. “Food was carried in the back of the wagon and was available shortly after stopping. It improved the moral of the cowboy because it maintained his energy level.”

Allen poured us a cup of coffee and then served us some beans he had specially prepared, adding bacon bits and several types of spices.

Ranger Julie Croglio and historic wagon

Grant Kohrs Ranch is extensive and also houses about 30 old wagons, one of which attracted our attention because it was once used as a Civil War ambulance. The old wagon was brought up the Missouri River to Fort Benton, Montana, on the Steamboat Emily. Later the wagon was used to transport soldiers wounded in 1877 at the battle with the Nez Perce at what is now Montana’s Bighole Battlefield.

The wagon was owned by Johnny Grant who initially established what is today the Grant Kohrs Ranch as a trading post. In 1867 he sold the ranch to Conrad Kohrs who became one of Montana’s first cattle barons. As a wealthy cattleman Kohrs added to the home begun by Johnny Grant, and the home remains a lavish repository of elegant living.

VIP Bob George intereprets Grant Kohrs Ranch

Fulltime RVers
Bob George, a retired army officer, fulltime RVer and volunteer (VIP), has immersed himself in the history of the old ranch, and detailed the origin of the various pieces of furniture. He explained how an old chair was developed for the dual use of sitting and help as a step stool. The chair has attracted much interest and you can purchase plans from the Grant Kohrs Visitor Center.

We spent the entire day at the old ranch, also visiting the blacksmith shop and the pasture which corrals long-horn cattle. Indeed the ranch is a window on Montana’s past, and as our trip progresses you will see how this ranch also links to several of Montana’s other historic settings.

But first, a stop at West Yellowstone and the interior of Yellowstone National Park, now hosting some of fall’s most spectacular dramas.

Smoke-filled skies create beautiful sunsets

©Bert Gildart: Huge billows of smoke were funneling from various mountain ranges last night as I returned from a bicycle ride. Though the skies were generally clear at the time, as dusk fell the high pressure system moving in began to hold the smoke in Montana’s Flathead Valley. The result was an atmosphere full of smoke, and about the only good thing that might be said is that it was creating some of the most incredible sunsets Janie and I have seen in a long time.

The smoke resulted from the six separate forest fires blazing last night throughout the Northwest. This morning, two more were reported, now bringing the total to eight. One, the Skyland Fire, is burning close to Glacier National Park and is causing residents just outside the park to evacuate their homes. Currently the cost to fight these various conflagrations now running over about 63,000 acres is approaching the $10M figure.

Forest fires, of course, are nothing new to the Flathead and Janie and I have reported on them in our book Explore! Glacier and Montana’s Flathead Valley. On a small scale, fires exert much good, creating new browse for deer and elk and generally burning off much of the fuel that tends to build up over time. Current fires, however, are partially the result of the unparalleled hot and dry summers we’ve been experiencing in the valley this past decade. With many days well over 100 degrees in July, this summer may yet break all previous records.

If the past provides any clue to what may be in store, we can turn to the summer of 2002 with its historic forest fires. At the time, smoke was so thick Glacier Park Naturalist Doug Follett joked with visitors who asked how to find Lake McDonald. “Go 100 yards north,” he’d typically respond, “and when you get your feet wet, you’ll know you’ve found the lake.”

With August, typically the Valley’s hottest month, just starting, one can only wonder if Follett’s advice may soon again be relevant.

Janie Gildart (R) & Marie Hertzler

©Bert Gildart: Just about this same time last summer, Janie and I took our friends Rich Luhr (owner/editor Airstream Life Magazine) and family in our boat up the Flathead River, searching in part for a huge rookery of Great Blue Herons. Though we searched and searched, we could not find a sign of this magnificent bird or the rookeries that once existed.

Last week, I am delighted to report that while repeating the explorations–but this time with our Ohio-based friends Brian Maughn and Marie Hertzler-Maughn–we discovered a brand new heron rookery. The rookery was huge, spread out over five to six large cottonwood trees all tightly grouped. In them were about 20 to 25 nests, and we could hear the ratcheting noise the group made over the sounds produced by our Yamaha engine. Quiet though our four-stroke may be, we were sitting next to it, so the croaking of the 40 to 50 herons had to be loud, because that’s what first drew our attention to them.

Over the years, I’ve written about the bird and here are a few paragraphs from previous magazines publications.

New Great Blue Heron Rookery

Almost every outdoorsman knows him—the great blue heron, one of the largest and most common of our wading birds. “Old Spearhead” is the one that startles you with a hoarse quock, as he heaves majestically out of the reeds, tucks back his dangling gear, and chugs away with slow and methodical wing beats.

In the hinterlands he is sometimes known as a “crane,” which he most certainly isn’t, and the difference is plain enough. A crane flies with neck extended, whereas, the heron loops his neck into a compact S and carries his head snugly back on his shoulders. The silhouette is unmistakable whether you see him half a mile above the business district or skimming down the Flathead River.

Generally gray-blue above, and streaked whitish and black on the breast, the bird has a conspicuous black-and chestnut crescent at the angle of the wing. The head is outlined by a drooping black crest with a topping of white. The bill is deep yellow and the legs and feet (which trail like a rudder in flight) are black.

Stilleto-like beak makes for efficent hunter

By the time the great blue heron is about two years old and ready to breed for the first time, it is respectably plumed on the back and breast. However, it doesn’t match the elaborate finery of its southern relatives, the snowy and American egrets.

If you watch the great blue stalking with deliberate, time-lapse movements in the shallows, you don’t wonder for very long what he eats. Zeroing in on something in the water, the long neck unlimbers, the head flashes down, and up he comes with a squirming fish impaled on the tip of its beak.

Occasionally a heron will tackle something too large, then the bird is in trouble. Naturalist John James Audubon told of watching a heron that had struck a fish too big to handle. The heron was pulled several yards completely under water before it was able to extricate itself.

Countrywide, great blue herons nest in a variety of different sites, but nearly always in rookeries numbering a few to several dozen nests. The usual location of such rookeries is in the tops of tall trees in a swamp or bottomland.

Heron rookeries hold a fascination for many people and I am no exception. On several occasions I have spent the entire day in a blind photographing and watching the clamor of the young as an adult arrives with a gullet full of fish.

File Photo of squabbling young herons

With a yacking and clattering the young shove one another aside in their attempts to be first at the bread line. In austere times, invariably one of the homely gray-and-white chicks dies—bested by its more competitive sibling.

In spite of the disappearance of big timber in swamps and lowlands, the great blue seems to be surviving fairly well. Irresponsible shooting is probably one of the biggest drains on its numbers. Natural enemies are not very important because the bird is hard to approach, and the efficiency of that up-front spear is not to be taken lightly by predators.

Although a strong flier, the heron is a transport type and can’t maneuver easily. Such small fry as red-wing black-birds and sparrow hawks can rattle a heron so thoroughly that it may go crashing onto the water. Though not well designed for it, the great blue can swim and take off from water.

In terms of the fish it takes, or any aspect of its feeding habits, the heron is not to be considered as either “beneficial” or “harmful.” People enjoy seeing this great wading bird. It belongs to our American waterscapes, and that is reason enough for his being…

Nate Murphy & Leonardo

MISSION: SEARCHING FOR PROSE & PHOTOS—With Kayaks, Mountain bikes, Backpacks, Daypacks, Walking Sticks, Fishing Poles—and an Airstream Travel Trailer

©Bert Gildart: “It’s like a smoking gun,” said Nate Murphy of Malta, Montana, “because it may be one of the most perfectly preserved dinosaurs ever found in North America, and because the evidence there could help us solve many mysteries.”

But Murphy’s 23-foot “smoking gun” didn’t die recently; rather it plodded this part of Montana 77-million years ago in what paleontologists call the Cretaceous period. Back there it died—to be buried repeatedly then by tons of sediments contained in a winding ancient river of the time.

And there it remained, waiting for the climate to change, for erosion to occur—and for Nate Murphy and his crew of diggers to expose it and then excavate it throughout the summer and fall of the year 2000.

"Peck Rex," complete T. Rex

Murphy says that “Leonardo”—as he named his find—may provide clues as to whether dinosaurs were warm- or cold-blooded. Because perfectly preserved food has been found in both the stomach and colon, paleontologists can tell not only what it ate immediately prior to death, but what it ate over a long period of time—“and that,” says Murphy, “is just for starters.

“If you dig dinosaurs,” quips Murphy, “Montana’s the place to be. And it doesn’t have to be in my backyard. You can find dinosaur bones in many eastern Montana settings; you just have to know what you’re looking for. And then, you’ve got to dig.”

We were hooked—ready to become paleo-nerds. We wanted to regress a bit. We wanted to don shorts, slide into sandals, saunter around with those cool little brushes all paleontologist carry.

We wanted to leap into our RV and travel Montana’s brand new Dinosaur Trail, in part because it promised to take us to some of the state’s neatest places. Montana’s Dino Trail is almost 1,000 miles long, and not only does it provide access to some of the state’s incredible dinosaur museums, but simply following The Dino Trail will place you in the middle of some of the state’s best fishing, the state’s best campsites, and some of its most compelling historic areas.

If you want, you could make the route your life’s work, but if that’s not feasible, you should give the Dino Trail at least a couple of weeks.

Though you can begin your adventure anywhere on the Dinosaur Trail, one really cool place to begin is the Museum of the Rockies in Bozeman, Montana, home of one of the state’s major universities. Here, you’ll see examples of different dinosaurs excavated from Montana.

Makoshika Dinosaur Museum

With luck, you may also meet museum curator Jack Horner, who is one of the nation’s best-known paleontologists.Horner was a consultant for the movie “Jurassic Park,” and is also the author of a number of scientific papers on dinosaurs and of the popular book, Dinosaurs Under The Big Sky…

So there you have it; a teaser as provided in the above. The rest is up to you, and because we incorporated so much into our trip last year, we took almost three weeks. Unfortunately, I’ve just received word from the Montana Department of Tourism, an organization that sponsors my trips when I have an assignment (which I did) that Nat Murphy has just retired. Still the Malta station is still manned; you can see Leonardo, camp at Fort Peck, and visit Makoshika State Park—with all of its dinosaur remains.

Elbow room at Makoshika State Park

You can’t go wrong, trust me.

Bert Gildart: Neither the old ranch hand known as “Whispering Jack” shown in picture number one, nor the sheep herder (Jerry Jacobs) wrote down the wisdom that follows.

In reality, I found the advice posted below on the bulletin board of a doctor’s office this afternoon and thought it sage. However, I believe these men suggest the types of personalities that gave rise to these words.

Once, I knew Jerry and “Whispering Jack” and wrote several stories about each, because they were such characters. Jerry (below) worked out of an old sheep-herder wagon along the east slopes of the Continental Divide, and he tended a flock. Because of his isolated life, he always welcomed company.

This evening I needed a “vehicle” through which to relate the “Old Farmer’s Advice” and thought that because these two men could tell such offbeat stories–and because they were at times so full of earthy philosophy, I’d associate the wisdom with them. I think they look the part of land-shaped narrators and, sometimes they were. What’s more, no one really knows where this adivce came from and much of it probably evolved from people such as these.

What follows is deep, and if we all adhered to these ideas, we’d probably live more amicably. So, here, for what it’s worth, is some “Old Farmer’s Advice.”

*Your fences need to be horse-high, pig tight, and bull strong.

*Keep skunks and bankers and lawyers at a distance.

*Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.

*A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.

*Words that soak into your ears are whispered… not yelled.

*Meanness don’t jes’ happen overnight.

*Forgive your enemies. It messes up their heads.

*Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you!

*It don’t take a very big person to carry a grudge.

*You cannot unsay a cruel word.

*Every path has a few puddles.

*When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.

*The best sermons are lived, not preached.

*Most of the stuff people worry about ain’t never gonna happen, anyway

*Don’t judge folks by their relatives.

*Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

*Live a good honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll enjoy it a second time.

*Don’t interfere with somethin’ that ain’t botherin’ you none.

*Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.

*If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin’.

*Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.

*The biggest troublemaker you’ll probably ever have to deal with watches you from the mirror every mornin’.”

*Always drink upstream from the herd.

*Good judgment comes from experience and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.

*Lettin’ the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin’ it back in.

*If you get to thinkin’ you’re a person of some influence try orderin’ somebody else’s dog around.

*Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

Bert Gildart: If I were producing a musical about Montana flowers, it would be appropriate to steal from the classic The Hills Are Alive With the Sound of Music, staring Julie Andrews.

Arrowleaf Balsam Root & Flathead Lake

In part that’s due right now to the Arrowleaf balsam root, still making its gaudy appearance on so many dry slope areas of Montana. In part I use the hills surrounding the Conrad Cemetery in Kalispell as an indicator for spring boat trips to Wildhorse Island, for all of the cemetery’s dry north facing slopes are now running wild with yellow. The hills face the highway as you drive into town.

I mentioned some of the specie’s qualities in my last post, but did not mention its scientific name, which is reflective of its food value. That’s part of the reason for this post—Chapter two if you will.

Another reason is that this photo is an instructive photo, and I thought the information might be useful to some. Of course, we also want to post reminders that some of this material on Wildhorse is covered in our new book. The link will take you to Falcon guides and to access our book, click the Book category, then the exploring catetory. The book can also be purchased by E-mailing us.

Indeed, the scientific name Balsamorhiza sagittata, speaks to the specie’s palatable properties. “Balsamon” means balsam and “rhiza” means root. The sap in the tough woody roots smells and feels like balsam fir pitch. “Sagittata” means arrow-leaved. Other information about the way in which local Native Americans used the species is included in my last posting.

This photo was made just as the sun was appearing, imparting the warm cast to the photograph. I made the photo with a 4×5 camera, and used a wide angle lens. Even with the advances in digital photography—and I am an advocate—it is virtually impossible to beat the old view camera for detail and depth of field.

Patience, however, is required, as you must generally wait for the flutter of leaves to cease so you can stop down your camera’s lens. Technical data for this photo includes a 1 sec exposure at f32—rendering everything tack sharp throughout this landscape’s extensive sweep.

Arrowleaf Balsam Sweeps Over Wildhorse

©Bert Gildart: May 6th, and right now, this week—and not much later—is the time to see fields of Arrowleaf Balsamroot running from hill to hill on Montana’s Wildhorse Island. In turn, this combination is surrounded by Flathead Lake, largest body of fresh water west of the Mississippi River. Reaching the island requires a two-mile boat ride from Dayton, Montana, on the lake’s east side, which we usually accomplish using our Johnboat.

Wildhorse Island is one of the many features we describe in our book Explore! Glacier National Park and the Flathead Valley, and it can be purchased by e-mailing us or by contacting Falcon Guides. The link will take you to Falcon guides and to access our book, click the Book category, then the Exploring catetory. In our book we describe the beauty of Wildhorse Island focusing not only on the Arrowleaf Balsamroot, but also on the wild sheep, deer and incredible floral displays, such as the one now occurring.

Arrowleaf Balsamroot is one of the first flowers to rear its head in spring and does so in late April and early May. It blooms for several weeks and then fades, leaving behind only its arrow-shaped leaf.

I first became familiar with the species in graduate school at Montana State University, when I took a course in botany as an elective. As part of the curriculum, I had to submit a collection of plants properly labeled with both scientific and common names. As well I had to provide facts about the species.

That was long ago, but annual forays and a sustained interest have kept the information alive.

Arrowleaf Balsamroot was collected and described by Lewis and Clark as part of a directive from President Jefferson. In this case Captain William Clark collected the plant, and on April 14, 1804, explained in his journal entry how he came across it. As always, he employed his own unique spelling.

“I walked on shore with Shabono on the N. Side through a handsom bottom. Met several parties of women and boys in serch of herbs & roots to subsist on maney of them had parcels of the stems of the sun flower.”

Clark’s description was made in what would one day be Montana, but it concerned Indians to the south. However, local Indians also made use of the plant, but whether or not they paddled out to Wildhorse is not known. More than likely they relied on the profusion also found in other parts of the valley.

Arrowleaf Balsamroot

Indians collected Arrowleaf Balsmroot and then ate raw the tender inner portion of the young immature flower stems. They also ate the seeds and large roots, which are tough and woody and taste like balsam. To make them more palatable, the Flathead Indians would bake them several days in a fire pit. Indians also used the large coarse Balsamroot leaves for burns. They boiled the roots and applied the solution as a poultice to wounds, cuts and bruises. Indians also drank a tea from the roots for tuberculosis and whooping cough.

That’s the science of the plant, but what must not be overlooked is the plant’s beauty, which can be enjoyed for another week or so. Though we’ve kayaked to the island, generally on photo expeditions we take our Johnboat (if the waves aren’t too choppy) so that I can transport my heavy large-format camera with lenses that produce such incomparable detail and depth of field.

We leave before sunrise and land early enough to catch the sun’s first rays as they first peak over the Swan Mountain Range. Views from the island are panoramic and everywhere wonderful. To the north are the ranges forming Glacier National Park while to the west are the Salish Mountains.

And then, of course, you are surrounded by largest body of fresh water west of the Mississippi, usually tranquil in the early morning. At your feet sweeps the spectacle of field after field of the gold-colored Arrowleaf Balsamroot; and it’s difficult to imagine a more beautiful setting.