©Bert Gildart:  Yesterday, Janie and I hiked to an incredible area in the southern part of Anza Borrego Desert State Park looking for pictographs, which after several years of searching we finally found.  Don’t expect a detailed map to the area, but I will report on this  incredible Native American art form in my next posting.  Sadly, so many antiquities have been destroyed that various laws have had to be enacted to protect them.  Fines help  — and they have ranged in the thousands — and that is good, but money can’t restore defaced rock art.

While on the trip it was encouraging to see a few flowers starting to rear their lovely heads.  There has been so very little rain this winter that some are saying there will be but  few flowers this spring. And it is true, the flowers I show here were confined to areas  where the little moisture that has accumulated tends to collect, such as  in boulder fields and in protected pockets of south facing slopes.

To make these images I used various techniques, which one must employ to  dramatize their beauty and intensify their color.  For the purple penstemon, I used two strobes; for the fish hook cactus, I blocked the sun using a broad brimmed out – else the plants would have been filled with contrasty light.  And for the yellow agave flower I used back lightening, which always seems to work well for plants that are colored yellow.

Because these are some of the first flowers of spring, it does suggest that other species will soon follow.  However, the presence of only a few  also suggests  that some  looking will be required.

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AIRSTREAM TRAVELS THREE YEARS AGO:

*Spring Flowers in Death Valley

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©Bert Gildart: Just minutes after starting our hike up Palm Canyon, Bill directed our attention to a cliff wall, high overhead.

“Bighorns,” he said. “Two of them.”

Colorful desert patina help create habitat for bighorn sheep

The sheep were at some distance, but it was my thought that if I could make the sheep seem at home in this  beautiful canyon then my picture could be an interesting one.  Telephotos would stay in my camera bag.

BACTERIAL COLONIES

That it could be interesting was in part due to the rich colors created by a buildup of microscopic bacterial colonies.  Over a period of thousands of years these colonies have absorbed iron and manganese, so imparting the rich browns. It is this richness of color  that intrigued me and that further enhances the habitat for  the endangered Peninsular Desert Bighorn, which found a home in this rugged land so very long ago.

The sighting of sheep always helps to make my day, but so do good companions, and this time Janie and I were accompanied by Bill — and yet another Airstream friend, Theresa.  (I was delighted when her husband, a veterinarian, said he has followed my blog for years.)

Our goal was a stand of palms, and is a hike Janie and I have made before on many occasions.  Because of the many features along the trail we never tire of the adventure.

Palm Oasis

A park brochure points out various cacti such as the catclaw and the honey mesquite.  It explains that Native peoples once made their home in the canyon, finding relief from summer sun in the coolness offered by the palm tree shade.

ONLY NATIVE PALM

We made the one-and-a-half-mile hike in short order soon arriving at the palm oasis, which consists of a cluster of California fan palms, the only palm native to California.  Perhaps 50 such trees grow in this small area and their verdure breaks the greyness of the desert rock.  The brochure, available to hikers, asks that visitors respect the oasis, not defiling it with trash or tearing out the frond.

Fronds skirt the base of the tree and help to protect the bark form water loss and insect predation.  In the past some hikers have started fires and the trees have lost their skirts.

Is this Desert Galleta

Though it was too early for desert flowers, on our return hike we all noticed a beautiful grass that we think may be a Galleta Grass, though none of us knew for sure.  It appeared particularly lovely against the light-colored rock and pictures of it rounded out our day, adding another aspect that makes the hike so unique, regardless of the number of times we may venture up this remarkable canyon.

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AIRSTREAM TRAVELS THREE YEARS AGO:

*ZION ROCK ART

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©Bert Gildart: Here at Pegleg the New Year was ushered in with barely a peep, but shortly thereafter all sorts of good news begin filtering in.  Based on news from the first week of 2012 this could be a pretty good year for Janie and me.

First, I’ve just received an advanced copy of my new book, Glacier Icons, and I think (obviously)  it represents high-quality  work.  Though the book consists of about a hundred  images, essentially the book takes 50 large photographs (such as the one above and four  below) and complements them with an essay.  Smaller images round out the stories.

EXCERPTS:

Typically essays are relatively short, but each packs in much information. Here are a few introductory excerpts:

*Throughout North America, many species of wildlife engage in ritualistic contests to determine male order of dominance.  In the animal world, few contests are more vigorous or the ritual more complex than among mountain sheep…

*When one compares the various traits of the grizzly with those of the black, there is one distinct feature that immediately separates the two species. That, of course, is temperament…   There is reason for this behavior which is linked with environmental features that existed long ago…

* Hard, wind-blown snow comes early to the park’s high peaks.  It drives the elk down into the low country; it covers the boulder-strewn home of the mouse-like pika; and it sends the powerful grizzly bear scurrying to its den for a long winter’s nap.  In fact, the rugged alpine country forces just about every type of creature to leave or hide.  But there always remains a beautiful little one-pound animal, a bird called the ptarmigan…

SHIPMENT ON WAY

In several weeks we’ll have a shipment here at Pegleg of Glacier Icons.  The book will sell for $16.85, and certainly we’re hoping that anyone going to Glacier might  purchase a copy. Of course, you’ll be able to get it in Glacier or from Globe Pequot, but get it from us, and I’ll autograph and provide a personalized note.

There is yet more news.  I am flattered that Bill, a fellow blog writer, singled out some of my photography and made it the focus of one of his postings.  One day I’ll have to reciprocate, as I believe Bill is not only an excellent writer, but a top-notch photographer as well.

Ascending Old Rag

The other good news is that Globe Pequot has just shared with me the cover of a book about Shenandoah that Janie and I spent last summer updating.  This, our fourth edition of Hiking Shenandoah, is much expanded and includes more on natural history.  Additionally, all images are in color. The cover depicts Adam Maffei standing near Dark Hollow Falls.  But the book’s interior  also includes one of him climbing Old Rag, shown here.

There’s more yet to report, but I’ll save that for another posting.  In this posting, more than anything else, I hope you’ll  think, Glacier Icons.

NOTE: From Chris (Where The Bear Walks), I have just learned of the sad passing of Roy Ducat, companion of Julie Helgeson’s in Night of the Grizzly.

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Airstream Travels Three Years Ago:

*The Compulsion of Borrego Badlands

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Pacing off size

©Bert Gildart: Five-hundred years from now – after man has rebounded from a devastating decline in population associated with much tragic and social unrest — archaeologists will reemerge to wonder about those who lived in the distant past. (Come on, play along for a minute.)

They begin by excavating, and because deserts are always so productive, lo and behold, they begin in Anza Borrego. Here, they find a rock or two whose juxtaposition appears to have been created intentionally.

“Eureka!” someone exclaims! And then they begin the tedious process of uncovering the entire structure.

Months later, a form will appear, and scientists will conclude that it was the recreation of a huge snake.

In fact, with its triangular shaped head and segmented tail (all created with the artistic arrangement of rocks) it appears to be a rattlesnake.

120 Foot-Long Serpent

Measurements will determine the sinuous form of the snake stretches about 40 feet but that if uncoiled, it would measure 120-feet long.

Much time must have to have been devoted to the project, perhaps, scholars will conclude, four or five hours.  But, then, to perfect the structure, these people had to return over a period of several days, perhaps even weeks. And because so much time was involved our future scientist will have to wonder if Homo sapiens of the period deified the snake?

Searching for answers scholars will dig into books created by the ancients of the year 2012, and they will learn  that Native Americans of the mid-18^th Century (as an example)  created images of the creatures that were important to them at the time.  In this place still called Anza Borrego they created symbols of the sun and of the anthropomorphs.

They created graphic images of the genitalia of men and woman perhaps as a means of increasing fertility.  And in other areas still preserved in lands yet known (we can hope) as National Parks, they learned Native ancients created images of sheep, possibly because sheep (Zion NP)had died out. They hoped that through the creation of their images that they would generate the magic needed to bring sheep back, and so push back hunger. (Other petroglyph sites I’ve visited: Earth Mother, V-Bar-V)

In other words, they carved out pictographs and petroglyphs for all sorts of reasons, generally for reasons that seemed important at the time.

Which brings us to our snake.

Worship of Snakes

Serpents have long been worshiped, because they shed their skins and are symbolically “reborn.” In fact, classes of the Hindu and Buddhist have worshipped (and still worship) snakes – and very large ones at that.  And, so, it is probably safe to extend the feeling of awe for snakes to Homo sapiens at large. And because of recent events, so it is here at Pegleg. Just the other day someone saw a large rattler in the hills just behind us.

Through the eons, many have worshipped snakes

I honestly have no idea who created the huge serpent, but the reasons could be associated with some of the above. Perhaps it was an infertile couple desirous of procreation; a group hoping for immunity from a bite.  Or perhaps as scientist say, no one really knows why the ancients created the thousands of pictographs and petroglyphs that cover the American Southwest. “Maybe,” our scholars say, “they were simply doodling, trying to pass the time on a warm winter day.

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AIRSTREAM TRAVELS THREE YEARS AGO:

*Airstreaming Along the Blue Ridge Parkway

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©Bert Gildart: Several days ago on a hike through Moonlight Canyon, I thought I saw the last species to flower for the season, the fuchsia.  It was a surprise, then, to walk the nature trail at the Visitor Center of the Anza Borrego Desert Nature Center and see one of this region’s most conspicuous of plants; one of this region’s most written about species – in full bloom. At this time of year!

Towering about 30 feet overhead and back dropped by the San Jacinto Mountains, the agave – also known as century plant – beamed down on us with its yellow inflorescence.  Several years ago I accompanied retired superintendent Mark Jorgensen on a guided hike, and recall him saying that the agave was one of the most important species in the park, contributing to the creation by Native Americans in this park of over 5,000 roasting pits. On other hikes, we’d seen several.

It was a March hike, and at that time the species was putting forth blossoms, so several volunteers at the Visitor Center and I concluded that the flowering of the plant now in bloom was most likely due to much TLC bestowed by yet other volunteers.

AGAVE TO TEQUILA? YES INDEED

But no matter, the flowers were impressive and I recalled that Natives used virtually all parts of the species to include the flowers, which they made into a beverage.  Indians also used the plant’s fibers to make cloth, bowstrings and rope.  And the use I like best: In Mexico the species is fermented to make a drink called pulque, which might then be distilled to make tequila.

Its other name, century plant, is derived from the fact that 30, 40, perhaps even 100 years may pass before it blossoms. Apparently, the plant then dies.

Because that was most likely the case here I went to some lengths to obtain a pleasing composition.  Erecting my tripod I mounted a 600mm lens for the detailed image (because it was so far off the ground)  and a 200 mm lens for the more distant appearing picture.  In both cases I used a slow shutter speed complemented by a narrow aperture to increased depth of field.

Detail of century plant required 600mm lens, because of distance from ground

Though it all took time, little matter, for the agave is a significant park plant, and its blossoms may soon be gone.  If it ever blooms again, “a century” may pass.

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AIRSTREAM TRAVELS FOUR YEARS AGO:

*Ranger Do Not Want Guns in Our National Parks

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©Bert Gildart: In a land where everything either sticks, stings or bites,  Bill (see previous post) and I decided we would return to the Moonlight Canyon trail and see if we could learn more about what — and how — sheep eat. Can they actually digest thorns?

Surviving in a land where everything sticks, stings or bites

Essentially because this area in Anza Borrego Desert State Park  is so rugged, it is, in fact, ideal sheep country, and that morning we’d watched as a band of about five desert bighorn sheep – all young rams – had munched on surrounding vegetation.  Food they consumed grew close to the ground and from our vantage we could not see what it was.  Everything here seemed covered with thorns, and we wondered how they managed.

A DIET OF CACTI?

The sheep had moved on so Bill and I decided to climb to the prominence on which they’d been watching the world around them. Here, we found much cholla, and every single one contained extraordinarily sharp thorns.

Sheep munch away the sharp thorns to exposure the underlying fruit of the cholla. Apparently, it is all palatable.

Mind you, these were brutally sharp thorns, and as we had climbed, several had lodged in the soft fabric of my jeans and then penetrated to jab me in a particularly painfully manner.  This was the food of our sheep, and as we examined the plants, we found no discarded thorns.  Apparently, they had consumed not only the fruit of the cacti, but also the thorns.

MICRO CLIMATES

Bill and I returned to the trail and his attention turned to the various micro-climates contained along the Moonlight Canyon trail. He asked me if I’d noted the various rock pockets where temperatures fluctuated, and it was true.  Here in this twist-y canyon where the aspect changed markedly, we found not only pockets of cold, but also pockets of relative warmth. Apparently, the warm pockets provided conditions appropriate for the season’s last brave flowering species.

Bill said he believed the flower was a fuchsia. With its long red sepals and petals and very conspicuous stamen it was a colorful plant, necessary perhaps to attract insects for late season pollination.  It was a perfect photographic specimen so I attached a 105mm macro lens, set up a tripod, and then illuminated it with two strobes manually  (250sec, f32)  set to overwhelm ambient light, so producing the black background.

Janie and I left Agua Calienta late in the day, commenting over and over that we’d had a marvelous day, filled with good friends, flowers, birds, and wildlife. How could it get any better?

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

Channel Islands

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©Bert Gildart: Snow covered the Vallecito Mountains as we made our drive to Agua Calienta to see our friends Bill and Larry.

Vallecito Mountains, December 14th. That's snow up there folks!

Janie and I meet the two men about four years ago and discovered that we shared similar interests and an interest in acquiring skills we all admired.  Larry is a gourmet cook, Bill a photographer and an interpreter of history at a park center in San Diego.  Perhaps not too coincidentally, we all share a love of Airstream travel. What’s more Bill and I share a fascination with one of Anza Borrego’s most historic of all characters,  Marshall South.

KINDEST OF PEOPLE

I also want to say that Bill and Larry are two of the kindest men we’ve ever met. When we arrived, we saw that Larry had laid out a Christmas table onto which he later served a gourmet pork stew. Larry had also made several Christmas decorations that he wanted Janie to have.

Christmas at Bill and Larry's

Once, both men were professional care givers, but are now retired.  Larry was an occupational therapist while Bill was master-level nurse.  The two have been together now for 40 years and certainly that was one of the many things we discussed.

COMMON INTERESTS

But most of our time was spent talking about the area’s natural history.  Agua Calienta was one of the places Marshall South described, and over the years, Bill and I have made many hikes to learn more about this fascinating man who is often described as the forerunner of the hippies.

We talked about Moonlight Canyon and the hike Janie, Bill and I had just completed and all the sheep we saw, something I will describe in my next posting.  We talked about the quail we’d all seen during our desert hike.

Later the park ranger dropped by and Larry showed him a book I had written several years ago on big horn sheep.  That set the stage for an hour long discussion about the Peninsular Bighorn and it’s struggle to survive. Mark, the ranger said he would try and help us find the “really big guy,” if we came back.

Certainly we will come back.  In fact sometime next month most likely you’ll be reading a post specifically about Aqua Calienta.  In the meantime Janie and I want to take a moment to thank both Bill and Larry for the excellent food, good company, gifts, and for introducing us to this part of Anza Borrego.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Pure Photography In Many Glacier Valley

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©Bert Gildart: Anza Borrego Desert Park provides wonderful examples of erosion but little is more dramatic than the park’s slot canyons.  Fortunately for us here at Peg Leg, trailheads are within a short drive.

My companions were Don and Nancy Dennison, and we share a love not only of traveling in Airstreams (they just purchased a new Classic), and like us, they also love hiking and exploring areas that require a bit of an effort.

GEOLOGICAL PUZZLES

Don and Nancy also enjoy trying to solve geological puzzles, particularly as it pertains to our interest of the day, specifically the slot canyons.  Don and I both believe we can I.D. rocks and we concluded that most was of a sedimentary nature.

L to R:  Traverlers Peak; slot canyon, trail to Quartzite Mine

Our contention is based on the immense layering of most of the visible rocks, But there also seems to be many granitic type rocks, meaning this land was not only exposed to vast inland seas, but also to violent upheavals below the earth’s crust.  That accounts for all the scattered rocks in the foreground of my image of Travelers Peak.

GRAIN BY GRAIN

The last chapter in our story is, of course, the one of erosion, and in this case erosion which occurred over a period of thousands of years.  Grain by grain, wind and water craved out some of the softer rock in the sedimentary layers to gouge  out  this incredible defile.

Though our day topped out at about 70 degrees, this is where I’d want to be on a hot summer day. From previous excursions here, we know temperatures in the recesses of these slot canyons  may be 10 to 15 degrees cooler.

Indeed, Anza Borrego is a park full of wonderful diversity, and this is just one example.

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THIS TIME THREE  YEARS AGO:

*Snowy Owls Are Ghosts of the North

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©Bert Gildart: Throughout North America, many species of wildlife engage in ritualistic contests to determine male order of dominance during the mating season.  In the animal world, few contests are more vigorous nor is the ritual more complex than among mountain sheep.  I have followed sheep throughout much of North America and have always considered it a rare treat when I stumble across action such as I enjoyed with two other photographers a few days ago.

When all else fails, rams resort to violence.

We had left Dayton, Montana and then made the 15 minute trip by boat to Wildhorse Island where we beached in a small cove known as Skidoo Bay.  The island is mountainous and we immediately began to climb, looking as we did for wild horses, the island’s namesake.  Instead we saw a few small deer but then, off in the distance, a herd of “bachelor” rams.

RAMS HUDDLE

At this time of year, males are still in groups, where they begin determining a “pecking” order.  They gather in groups known as “huddles” where they curl their lips at one another, poke one another with their hooves, and nudge one another with their horns. A great deal of information is exchanged in such groups, information that often helps determine male order of dominance without having to resort to “violence.”  But when doubt remains, rams sometimes resort to battles, which can sometimes produce injury.

L to R: Todd Campbell, engulfed by the beauty of Wildhorse Island, focuses  on nearby action; Jack Floegel approaches herd of rams near top of Wildhorse; bachelor herd of rams “huddle” to exchange information.

We continued our climb and found several of our bachelor herds, and as we watched we saw several rams that appeared huge.  We also saw several that appeared on the verge of a violent confrontation and we set up our camera gear, waiting to see what might happen.  We were not disappointed.

From a distance of about 50 yards we watched as two rams stalked off to a distance of about 30 feet, turned to face one another. Rising on hind legs they ran forward dropping at the last minute for increased momentum then collided.  In the stillness of the day the sound of their impact sounded like a high power rifle and we struggled to record the drama, which they repeated.  Though the impact must have produced immense headaches, in this case no eyes were poked out, no ribs were broken, though one of the males did appear to emerge as a solid champion, for the other ram stalked off.

Toward day’s end we reluctantly leave behind one of the largest rams any of us have ever seen but find compensation when a group of ” wild” horses find us.

When the sheep tired we began to wander the island, finding more bachelor herds.  We looked as well for the island’s famous mule deer herds, but saw but one or two lone bucks.  And though we never found our wild horses, they found us near one of the old homestead shacks that still remained on the island.  They were a friendly group of about four and apparently had been fed in the past as they poked at our pockets, hoping perhaps for an apple.

Reluctantly, we departed near sunset, believing we had enjoyed a most successful day.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Bighorn Sheep Wear Biographies On Their Horns

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Don Fish explains significance of bison kill site.

©Bert Gildart:  Janie and I have been so extraordinarily busy that I have not had time to post on some of the many other exciting places we have seen this past month; and though we’re now back in  our OTHER home — catching up on other business matters — nevertheless, I want to post a few images of another place we highly recommend.

While in Great Falls we also visited what was known until recently as Ulm Pishkin State Park. Though little has changed, the site, now a contender for status as a World Heritage Site, is  known as First Peoples Buffalo Jump.

LARGEST OF BISON KILL SITES

Bison jumps are located all over Montana, but this is one of the largest of the prehistoric bison kill sites in the United States. A visitor center and interpretive trails tell the story of the people, the animals, and the landscape of the buffalo culture

Trails course throughout the park and Janie and I lucked out.  Don Fish, a Blackfeet Interpreter, was scheduled to lead a group of students, and teachers said they’d be glad to have us join.  As we hiked we learned from Fish that Indians used the area for over six-hundred years and that they would stampede buffalo to the edge of the mile-long cliff.  Though  bison might sense danger, by the time these beasts approached the lip of the cliff it was too late.

Bison rushing up from behind would force the front runners over the cliff, where they’d fall to their deaths.

SQUARE BUTTE ALWAYS INSPIRING

After hiking to the top of the cliff we then walked along the face, enjoying expansive views of not only the Rocky Mountain Front, but also of Square Butte, a setting that provided the famous Cowboy Artist Charles M. Russell as an inspiration for many of his paintings, to include several of Indians hunting buffalo.

Don Fish leads school group to top of mile-long cliff face; bison jump, showing drop of approximately 30 feet; burial site of Native Americans back dropped by Square Butte, a setting that appears in several of famed cowboy artist Charles M. Russell paintings.

I’ll soon be posting a few other blogs of Montana travel areas which we recently enjoyed, but rRight now we’re scurrying around trying to prepare for a lengthy trip in our Airstream.  We plan to leave before the snows descend much lower (it’s capping the peaks now) in the valley.  We intend to take materials we have gathered about Montana to the desert, where we’ll finish the essays for our book about Montana.

Hopefully we’ll be out of her by the first week of November.  We don’t want to ever again take the chance of a state truck thoughtlessly dumping magnesium chloride in such as way that it will blast our Airstream.  In fact, we don’t want to think about the subject of filiform corrosion, preferring instead to say focused on such incredible subjects as the First Peoples Buffalo Jump.

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THIS TIME FIVE YEARS AGO

*Valley Forge

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©Bert Gildart:  So many travelers passed though what is now Montana’s Headwaters State Park that I am tempted to say it is one of the most significant state parks in the nation. Fall is also one of the most ideal times to visit the area.

Camping at Headwaters State Park

Two days ago Janie and I climbed to the top of a relatively low prominence called Fort Rock, but it was high enough to see one of the most significant geographical features in all of North America.  From the top we could look to the west and see the confluence of the Jefferson and Madison Rivers.  We could then turn 180 degrees and just half a mile away, see these two rivers converge with the Gallatin to form the Missouri River.  Several days ago the entire area was absolutely gorgeous.  Huge mountain ranges surround these rivers to include the Bridgers, the Madison and Gallatin ranges, and the Tobacco Root Mountains, all covered with fall’s first dusting of snow.

Parking lot for accessing Fort Rock, vantage from which one can see the convergence of the Madison and Jefferson Rivers. From here, the Jefferson appears large, the Madison (a little to the left of center) smallish

Lewis and Clark traveled this country and when they arrived here, thought all three rivers about equal in prominence believing that none was the Missouri River proper, rather that the three of them together formed this, the longest river in North America.  In his journals Captain Clark wrote “I saw several Antelope common Deer, wolves, beaver, otter, Eagles, hawks, crow, wild gees, both old and young, etc. etc.”

Because of the abundance of water the area was rich in wildlife, and was visited by all the area’s major tribes.  Later, the Three Forks was visited by trappers, and legend has it that it is here that John Colter made his historic run to escape the Blackfeet.  As the story goes, Indians captured Colter, stripped him of his clothes and then told him to run for his life.  A fast runner, Colter eluded all of the runners but one who was closing in with a spear. Before the warrior could thrust the spear, Colter grabbed it and killed the man.  Then he dove into the Missouri and hid from his other pursuers beneath a raft of reeds.

From Fort Rock one can turn 90 degrees and see the Gallatin. If one turns 180 degrees one can see the actual convergence of this, the Gallatin, with the Jefferson and Madison.

Though the campground was officially closed for the season, we found a spot and “parked” for several nights.  Because we support our state parks, we nevertheless paid the $7.50 campground fee.

The Heritage Trail departed from nearby and invites cyclists and hikers.  A sign alerts users that this is also moose country and that bulls are in rut and that hikers should be careful.  Essentially, we had the whole place to ourselves.

For Janie and me, the stop was delightful and we continue to believe that fall can be one of the most enjoyable of times to travel the state.

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THIS TIME FOUR YEARS AGO:

*The Princess of Acadia

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©Bert Gildart: I am a few days behind in the dates ascribed to my posts, essentially because we have based ourselves in areas that have no connections, specifically Zortman, Montana.  The settlement is located in the Little Rockies and for this posting it must be noted that we are but a 40 minute drive from one of the nation’s greatest wildlife spectacles  -  the fall rut of elk, which here includes literally hundreds of these magnificent creatures.

The stage is the Charles M. Russell Wildlife Refuge, specifically the Slippery Ann Wildlife Viewing area, which is immediately adjacent to where Adam, Sue, Janie and I took out from our seven-day float on the Missouri River one month ago.

It is here that Janie and I watched two nights ago as an estimated 300 elk materialized from stands of cottonwood trees, and then edged closer and closer until it seemed as though we had front seats at what could be  the photo opportunity of a lifetime.

PERFORMANCE WILL BLOW YOUR MIND

The performance began about 5:30 p.m. but before you could see the elk, you could hear them and their famous bugling. Bull elk create the music and do so by tilting back their heads and emitting a sound that begins on a low note then progresses up the scale.  Finally, it ends with a guttural “Ugh, ugh.”   Hearing them is one thing, but when you hear not just one bull creating the sound but dozens, it blows your mind.

The purpose of the bugling – followed by aggressive gestures in which they use their antlers to blow up the dirt, “murder” small trees, or actually engage other bulls in battle – is intended to help each bull establish a territory.

L to R:  Bull elk establish a harem and warn other males to keep out by bugling, fighting and tearing up the ground; CMR attracts thousands annually, often to watch elk; six-point or “Royal” elk.

Here, in a space each bull must mentally define, he guards his developing harem, and woe be to any interloper, particularly to “the welterweights,” or to one whose spread of antlers is inferior – that enters this space. Presumably the genetically superior bull emerges victorious and it is he that passes on his genes.

CMR IS MAGNIFICENT STAGE

We watched the display for about three hours and saw bulls whose antlers were represented by all the various descriptive nomenclature.  Biologists have created a system of classification. Bulls with six tines (most typically) are categorized as a Royal while those with seven or eight are categorized as an Imperial and Monarch, respectively. We saw them all, and most importantly from my perspective, I was able to photograph them all.  To obtain frame filling images I used lens ranging from 400 to 800mm.

Rounding up harem and warning other bulls to keep out.

Dramas such as this should be set on a stage of magnificence, and the CMR qualifies.  Encompassing about 1,100,000 acres, the Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge extends 125 miles east/west.  Lewis and Clark saw it first and described the area in glowing terms. The refuge was set aside in 1936 by President Roosevelt and, today, some call it the crown jewel of the National Wildlife Refuge system.

They’ll get no arguments from us.

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THIS TIME FIVE YEARS AGO:

Nova Scotia’s Fort Louisbourg

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©Bert Gildart: After trying on the replica cradle board and the attached head band displayed at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center in Great Falls, Montana, Jane Gildart (my young Indian maiden) believes Sacagawea had to have been one tough woman.

"My Indian Maiden" hefts cradle board with "her baby Pompey" to begin the start of "her (imagined) 26 day journey" around the five falls of the Missouri.

That toughness was particularly needed between June 13 and July 15, 1805 – the 26 days the Cops of Discovery struggled around the five separate falls comprising the Great Falls of the Missouri. During that time Sacagawea carried her infant child, Pompey, joining with the men in their struggles, all of whom fought exhaustion, rain, hail storms, excessive heat and the prickly pear, which constantly pierced their double thick moccasins.

That story is particularly well told at the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center.  The center does so with an exhibit hall, theater and various displays.  Displays include sculptures by famous artists, maps showing the routes, grizzly bear skulls, and bison artifacts.

HEROIC DISPLY

Perhaps the most heroic of the displays greets you the moment you enter the center. The heroic assemblage features men from the Expedition struggling to haul their canoe up a huge embankment.  The canoe was made from a cottonwood tree and the wheels were sectioned from a tree.  I was curious about the perfect hole in the wheel that accommodated the axel, and was told the Corps carried hand drills.

Sacagawea of course struggled with the men, and she served Lewis and Clark as a guide, despite her young age.  She had been captured while young and later married the French trapper Charboneau.

Throughout the long journey she totted their child Pompey and though she must have been constantly challenged, most likely the challenges were greatest at these great falls of the Missouri.

PUNISHING HAILSTONE

Rough weather constantly assaulted them and Lewis wrote of hailstones that measured “7 inches in circumference and waied 3 ounces…”   Lewis also wrote that in one afternoon his path converged with a bear, a mountain cat or wolverine and three buffalo bulls.”

Struggles were immense for Corps of Discovery when the reached the Great Falls; Black Eagle Falls, one of the five comprising the Great Falls of the Missouri; L&C Interpretive Center provides impressive displays.

Sacagawea struggled with the captains through this country and again my  “Indian Maiden”  turned to the cradle board and hefted it, judging with the interpreter that it weighed about 30 pounds.  To facilitate weight distribution Sacagawea  had attached a head band, and that helped Janie when we she tried it on; but as Janie reminded me Sacagawea carried the baby all day long, and at this juncture in their journey, he struggles must have been particularly difficult.  For 20 grueling miles over a period of 26 days she and the Corps plodded around five massive falls.

FALLS STILL SUGGEST GREAT ENERGY

Though the Great Falls of the Missouri have been tamed, nevertheless suggestions of great energy remain.  Several of the five falls have been impounded and now produce hydroelectric power.

Bison were integral to the Expediion, and are interpreted at the L&C Center as both utilitarian and as an object of art.

But the question I have is what would the Corps think if they could rise in mass from their graves and visit this incredible land through which they once struggled.  Obviously the question will remain forever unanswered, but it does seem as though they would be delighted that their adventures are cherished and that they are preserved with imagination displays such as are now found along the route of their 8,000 mile-long two year journey. One third of that time was spent in Montana, and some of the most significant challenges remain in this state.  Appropriately those struggles are preserved at the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center in Great Falls, Montana.

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THIS TIME LAST YEAR:

**Airstream and our First 100,000 miles

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©Bert Gildart: Almost the moment we stepped onto a stone stairway that would take us deeper into the Lewis and Clark Caverns, the lights went out.  Few had head lamps, so our descent was spooky. Janie and I both grabbed hard to the railing, and tried to maintain our balance as we descended the slippery stairs.

Laurie Koepplin, our tour guide and an employee for the Montana Department of Fish Wildlife and Parks, joked, explaining we were experiencing conditions similar to two ranchers who saw the caverns in 1892.  “Imagine,” she suggested, “that all you had was candlelight.”

Deep in Lewis and Clark Caverns

Though most found the conditions intriguing, the slippery rock and tight space concerned one individual who elected to turn around. Coincidentally, we had reached “Decision Rock,” a point at which guides customarily  ask visitors if they’re apprehensive.  “Everyone OK?” queried Koepplin.  “Nothing to be ashamed of. You’ll get a full refund if you need to go back.” Despite the darkness only one person turned back.

ADVENTURE IN THE DARK

Our adventure in the dark was short lived, and soon power was restored.  Picking up from her introduction, which included information about the Townsend Big Eared Bats flying overhead, Laurie explained that though Lewis and Clark passed nearby, they never mentioned the caverns in their journals.  “Most likely,” she said, “it’s because they never saw them.”

Though Indians knew of the caverns, the two ranchers became aware of them during a November hunting trip.  Cold air had flushed out the warm air, creating a funnel of steam that stirred the men’s curiosity.  No such funnel occurred in the summer when Lewis and Clark passed through the area.  What’s more the “discovery tunnel” is small and is located at a relatively high elevation, making the caverns unique.  “Most caverns,” said Koepplin, “are down lower and tend to run more horizontally than do these.”

MONTANA’S FIRST STATE PARK

Eventually entrepreneurs began offering tours into the caverns, but in 1908, the federal government assumed management, and then, in 1935, the caverns became Montana’s first state park.  As a state park, sophisticated tours developed — similar to the one we joined yesterday.

Darci and Rob Smith of Kansas ascend into a main cavern

Our tour was several hours long and as we continued our descent, the formations seemed to become more and more spectacular.  As we progressed, Koepplin pointed out stalactites and stalagmites — those pointed columns of rock that either ascend or descend vertically.  We saw ponds of water refracting colors that appeared brilliant in the artificial lighting, and we saw formations that appeared like popcorn, flowstone and “cave bacon.”

Though the caverns are the main attraction of the park, other features exist, and we have signed up for several nights of camping. We want to hike the park’s trails, and watch as lighting dramatizes the beautiful Jefferson River, up which Lewis and Clark traveled so many years ago.

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THIS TIME LAST THREE YEARS AGO:

*Global Warming

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©Bert Gildart: The day was absolutely beautiful accented by the nearby lofty peaks from the as yet snow-capped mountains from the Cabinet Mountain Wilderness Area.  But the area we entered contrasted drastically with blue skies and the warm sunny weather of the day.  As we left our truck and began walking the path of the Ross Creek Cedar Grove Scenic Area, this area reflected precipitation and lots of it.  The ground was soggy, and Ross Creek rushed nearby. Water loving and shade tolerant plants carpeted the area, highlighted by the species known as Pine Drops, Hookers Fairy Bells, Queen Cup Bead Lily and Prince’s. But what captivated us more than anything was the immensity – and the species of the trees.

Majesty of cedars

Appropriately, these are cedar trees, huge cedar trees, tress such as one seldom sees in this state so dominated by prairies and by its assemblages of pine, fir and spruce. These trees were also immense, and as interpretive signs pointed out, some towered 175 feet overhead.  They were old and some dated back over 500 years. As well some required five or more people clasping hands, linking arms to circle them, for they measured over eight feet in diameter, making them a logger’s dream.

CREATED WITH HELP FROM LOGGERS

Ironically, it was local loggers who helped bring about designation of the Ross Creek Cedar Area.  During the late 1950s those who worked to “Save the Cedars,” realized the importance the western red cedar play in overall forest health, and so, in recognition of this special tree, in 1960 the area was designated a state park.

L to R: Prince’s Pine, Queen Cup Bead Lily, Hooker’s Fairy Bells — all growing at base of giant cedars.

Indeed the area is representative of unusual conditions for Montana. Located not far from Troy, considered at an elevation of 1880 feet to lowest point in the state, the area is also located geographically so that it receives more moisture than most other places in the state.

Age allows for unusual growth formations

Each year the region receives about 25 inches of precipitation, meaning it can be categorized as a temperate rainforest.  As such it has produced trees that are ancient by human standards and as such have come to chronicle all the conditions the area has endured for over five centuries. Trees in the area bear evidence of fire, drought, wind, and flood.

BAD MEDICINE/GOOD MEDICINE

Some were used by Native Americans, and interestingly, the forest service campground in which we have parked our Airstream is called Bad Medicine, and it was also used by Indians of the Kootenai tribe.  This same camp was once located in the shadow of a massive rock ledge, and one day it broke covering the area and it occupants.  Though Bad Medicine for some, it has been good medicine for us, essentially because of the beauty contained in the Ross Creek Cedar area, located but a few miles away.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Alaska’s Chena Hot Springs

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©Bert Gildart: “It is the largest brook trout I’ve ever caught in this part of Montana,” said Chuck Robbins. “Maybe not the longest, but certainly the heaviest.  I think it may go three pounds.”

Chuck Robbins, guiding in and around the Big Hole River for over a decade.

For the past few days Janie and I have been touring Big Hole River country with Chuck and Gail Robbins, good friends whom we have know for almost a decade.  The couple lives in Dillon, which is the small town in the southwestern part of the state where Chuck bases himself as a fishing guide.  Because the Big Hole is such a fabled fishing river, I have been anxious to learn all I can about the area and would be hard pressed to find a more knowledgeable couple – or a better guide than Chuck.

STILL REMOTE

Because the river has been so high for this time of year, we have been bidding our time making short driving trips and have reconfirmed our convictions that this is a beautiful part of the state.  Dotted with but a few small towns such as Wisdom, Divide, and Jackson the area remains some of the state’s most undeveloped country.  At times the area can be brutally cold and extremely hot, and that may be the country’s salvation, preventing it from such ungodly over development as is now happening in other parts of the country.

L to R: Art Bivens Conehead Pumpkin Woolly Bugger; brook trout; Chuck Robbins with largest brookie he has caught in Montana.

The country is high and is surrounded by lofty mountains such as the Pioneers and Beaverheads. It is cut by the 7400 foot-high Big Hole Pass. Add to that the Big Hole River, and this becomes some of the state’s most intriguing country, particularly because of its fishing.

According to Chuck who has made precise map measurements, the Big Hole flows for 188 miles. It begins near Idaho at Skinner Lake and finally empties in the Jefferson at Twin Bridges, Montana.

NOT JUST A WOLLY BUGGER

Because of the high water, Chuck felt we should float a 15 miles upper section between Fish Trap to the East Bank of the Fishing Access Site.  I was particularly anxious because we were still finding salmon flies in the bushes. Occasionally they’d take to the air and then hit the water, causing trout to go mad.  Though the waters were unusually high and murky for this time of year, I made my first tentative casts with much anticipation, and was rewarded almost immediately when several small brookies hit the Mepps spinner I had attached to my outfit. It was not, however, until we stopped near a small feeder stream that I finally landed one.  But it was small, and nothing like the one Chuck caught later in the day.

Chuck , who was also manning the paddles, did little fishing until we stopped near Deep Creek,  a point about midway along the river.  Here, several more feeder streams entered the Big Hole and Chuck began by affixing what looked like a “Woolly Bugger” to his line. Chuck, who is thorough, said that the fly was most properly called the Art Bivens Conehead Pumpkin Woolly Bugger, “After,” Chuck said, “the man who first tied it.”

MAYBE WE’LL CATCH IT AGAIN

Chuck wasted little time. He made a few tentative casts, and then within a few minutes landed several  few medium sized fish.  Generally, he releases most all the fish he catches but because Janie and I both like fish dinners, we saved several.  Chuck then cast again, and this time I saw his rod arc sharply.  Apparently he knew he had something different on his line, as he played it slowly, bending his body left and right and keeping the line tight. He played the fish for almost five minutes, finally landing it.

Too Beautiful to Keep

Too Beautiful to Keep!!

The fish was large, and Chuck said it was the largest he had ever caught in Montana. We both admired it and then Chuck said it was too beautiful to keep and so we released it.  We watched it as it regrouped, then suddenly, with a flick of its tail, reentered the swift waters of the Big Hole, where it made its home.

“Some day,” said Chuck with much satisfaction, “we might just catch  it gain. ”

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Nikon Strobes & Flower Photography

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©Bert Gildart:  They’re only about three inches in length, and they appear along the banks or in the waters of the Big Hole River but for a few brief weeks each year. When they do appear — usually about the second week of June — their emergence creates a call heard globally, at least among certain groups (Holy S—).  In fact, Chuck Robbins, who guides on these waters, says he has fishing clients from countries such as Japan and from most every state in the union.

At long last, salmon fly desert the "shuck," leaving behind only a dried out case

The tiny creature responsible for this fanaticism is the salmon fly, and when it emerges, trout go wild.  Their cyclic nature, however, can be slow and it is a finely tuned biological phenomena.

Eggs are deposited by females atop the river’s rushing waters. Eggs then drift to the river’s bottom where the nymph stage begins to develop.  Three years later mature nymphs head toward the river’s banks and then crawl up onto shoreline vegetation where they struggle to break free, leaving behind a “shuck.” The shuck is essentially an exoskeleton.

When the insect  finally struggles free it it spreads its wings and flies to nearby bushes where mating occurs.  They often crash land onto the water’s surface and when they do, fish to go wild.

A

Salmon fly about to take wing.

That’s what’s happening now, though not quite as dramatically as in most years because heavy atypical rains have affected the Big Hole River water levels.  Still, in a day or so from now, when currents are a bit safer, I hope to join Chuck for a day of angling on this fabled river. If so, I’ll be joining a group of sportsmen about as passionate about the sport of fishing as the fish are about the sumptuous dinning that awaits them during the brief but frantic season of the salmon fly.

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THIS TIME THREE YEARS AGO:

*Knife River

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©Bert Gildart: In a flowering field of camas, prairie smoke and bistort, tipi poles stand today like skeletons all reminiscent now of a great tragedy – of a particularly ugly time in America’s history.

Camas now grows in a meadow where Nez Perce Indians once camped, attempting to maintain their freedom; symbolized by tipi poles.

The skeletons remind the sympathetic that on an August morning in 1887, before the sun had even risen, approximately 170 soldiers, led by Colonel John Gibbon, fired into a sleeping camp of approximately 800 Nez Perce Indians. About two thirds of the group were women and children and the only crime they had committed was that they did not want to be forced onto a reservation in Idaho.

BROKEN TREATY

They believed that the treaty of 1863 with the American government, guaranteeing the tribe that the land known as the Wallowa would forever be theirs. Settlers, however, discovered gold in the Walla Walla Valley and the Nez Perce were ordered onto the Lapwai Reservation.

Camas closeup, tipi poles, prairie smoke — all stand in a field where a band of Nez Perce Indians fled from soliders. The Nez Perce hoped to retain freedom and not be forced onto a reservation.  They had been guaranteed the right to remain in their homeland by a treaty of 1863 — but settlers discovered gold.

Many went, but five bands of Non-Treaty Nez Perce refused, and when hostilities broke out in Idaho near the reservation, the five bands were forced to flee.  Leaders such as Chief Joseph and Chief Looking Glass hoped that once they reached Montana they would be safe. They thought they might find a home with the Crow People and so they embarked on a great journey.  And now they were in western Montana, believing themselves to be relatively safe.  Here, along the meandering North Fork of the Big Hole River, all sandwiched between the Beaverhead, Pintlar and Pioneer mountains, they cut lodge poles and erected their tipis (also correct tepee). They hunted and dug the bulbs of camas and bistort, favorite foods they knew from previous hunting excursions to be abundant along the North Fork. Though they posted sentries, the Nez Perce believed the pursuing Army troops were far behind.

MISDIRECTED FORCE

Today, as we walk along the peacefully meandering river, the site of misdirected forces, we read the words of Yellow Wolf from a Park Service brochure.  Yellow Wolf said he returned after the onslaught and began his search for survivors, looking in a maternity lodge that had been occupied by a pregnant woman.  The tipi was silent and inside Yellow Wolf found the woman lying dead in her blankets. In her arms she held her newborn baby, its head smashed by a gun breech or by the heel of a boot.

Immediately after the initial attack the Nez Perce desperately sought cover, running into willow thickets, even submerging themselves in the river, but Chief White Bird’s voice carried over the screams of horror, rifle fire and even canon fire. “Why are we retreating,” he shouted.

Cannon pointed at village which at the time of attack was a peaceful sleeping village

And so began an incredible turn about.  Before long, soldiers fell and soon the tide began to turn on what was to have been a slaughter; and as we walked the fields, our hopes and cheers went out for the Nez Perce. Brave warriors had turned the tide, but unfortunately the tribe had to flee once again, for they knew reinforcements might soon join Colonel Gibbon.

The plight of the Nez Perce is one of the greatest stories of the human spirit for freedom, and later this summer, Janie and I will again meet the tribe. In fact, we plan to meet them twice as our travels will take us through the state, for we are fortunate to have yet another book to work on. As we gather material for our Montana book, we’ll also be covering many other aspects of this state which I began calling home back in the ‘60s.  But the plight of the Nez Perce has always been a subject of great interest, and as we walked the fields of camas, bistort, prairie smoke and all the other features of enduring beauty, its story of pathos continues to stand in stark contrast with the grandeur of this great state.

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THIS TIME TWO YEARS AGO:

*Airstream Helps Many Age Gracefully

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©Bert Gildart: It’s been  25 years ago since Bruce May, then a biologist with Montana Fish Wildlife and Parks, and I canoed 100 miles of the Everglades Wilderness Waterway.  I’m reminded of the event as we celebrated Bruce’s birthday two days ago. As we visited we realized that this month marked the anniversary of that adventurous outing.

We reached Chickee late in the evening, after porpoise guided the way.

At the time I was gathering information about national parks for a story for the United States Information Agency (USIA), and in many ways we lucked out. Spring in the Everglades can be a horrible time because of the bugs, but shortly before we arrived there had been an unusually cold spell and it killed most of the mosquitoes and the no-see-ems. As well, we didn’t understand much about tides, and one day our timing was all wrong, and though we were heading toward the ocean, tides on this vast “river of grass” were rising, and by day’s end, we were exhausted.

DOLPHIN LED THE WAY

Yet on another day of our outing we turned down the wrong channel and when we realized our mistake by then we’d gone several miles out of our way.  If we didn’t want to spend the night at water level with all the alligators we had to find the correct channel; and we had to find an elevated platform known as a “chickee.”

Though what I’m about to relate seems preposterous, it’s all true.

L to R: When the tide went out channels lost water forcing us to struggle with canoe; Anhinga, one of more common bird species; in an area called the “Nightmare” alligators were everywhere.

Moments later, a dolphin swam into view, and we decided to follow it. Reversing our course, we managed to stay in sight and it soon led us to the correct channel, and then, soon, to the chickee. We erected our tent, put up a lantern, and then listened to all the night sounds, which were kind of spooky.

Next morning we arose and discovered that our canoe was hanging from the bow rope and except for the very stern was completely out of water. Thankfully, we’d removed everything the night before, else much might have drifted away.

Bruce has been a good friend most all of my adult life and it is wonderful to have friends with whom one can share past adventures. Canoeing the Everglades and its Wilderness Waterway was certainly one of the best.

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THIS TIME FOUR YEARS AGO:

*A Letter to Save the Everglades

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James Nampushi, hoping to help his village in Suswa, Kenya acquire water that could be life saving.

©Bert Gildart: About a week ago I related a story about James Nampushi, a Maasai Warrior from Suswa, a small village in Kenya, Africa.

My posted story retold one that James had related to the Clemson University media department, explaining how he had killed a lion so that he might be eligible for Maasai warrior status.

At the time of my posting, I didn’t have the information necessary to detail James’ real passion, and that is to help his village obtain monies necessary to sink a well.

Right now, villagers must travel for miles each day to bucket up water that is dirty and possibly contaminated with disease.

They deserve better.

WATER FOR A VILLAGE

When completed, the well will provide clean water for over 1,000 Maasai people of Suswa, Kenya, and for thousands of cattle, sheep, goats and area wildlife. James sent me a link to a video in which he more thoroughly explains the situation, and it is excellent. This man is a warrior, a highly intelligent one at that; a man who is also seeking advanced degrees at Clemson University in South Carolina.  James knows that in this day and age if he is really going to help his village advance itself, he needs the best eduction he can get.

Watch the video and you’ll see James is an impressive spokesperson, and if you are interested in helping the village, you can donate to the cause, making check to:

Maasai Water Project

C/O Infinity Church
P.O. Box 249
Fountain Inn, SC 29644

Currently James is working on a master’s degree in park management. James and I became friends several months ago when our paths crossed at Cumberland Island National Seashore, just off the coast of South Carolina. Janie and I plan to make a donation.

LOCAL UPCOMING TRAVEL PLANS

This coming week Janie and I will be making about a two-hour drive to the Izaak Walton Inn, an historic old hotel located near Glacier National Park. The stay constitutes part of my research on a book about Glacier that I’m contracted to write. Winter in this northwestern part of Montana is in full force, and currently it looks much like this scene set along the North Fork of the Flathead River. We’ll be doing lots of cross-country skiing.

Enraged bull elk; North Fork of Flathead River in Winter

Incidentally, Janie and I have invited James to visit us here in Montana, and he’s expressed an interest. I told him we have lots of moose , elk and bears here in the Rockies, and the prospect of seeing such creatures in the wild might just be the inducement he needs. If you come, James, bring your camera. And if you’re here in the fall I’ll bet we can find another just like the one posted here.

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THIS THREE YEARS AGO:

*Dolphin Superpod

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