Montana Journal

6/29/99
I’m so glad I’m here. Every direction I turn looks like a scene from a postcard. The first thing I saw when I stepped out of the cabin was a majestic snow-capped mountain rising into a clear, perfectly blue sky; all around that centerpiece were green mountains serving as a backdrop for the old homey dining hall. The air is clean, thin, and crisp, with a wind keeping the sun from warning you too much. It must be impossible to start the day in a bad mood when this is your first impression. After breakfast we drove into Beaverhead National Forest for a hike up to Lake Tendoy. The “main roads” we were on were all dirt, and meeting oncoming traffic was a challenge (especially in our big white vans). The switchbacks aren’t too bad, but the roads are littered with holes and rocks—no trash. The hike itself invigorated me—we kept a good pace with frequent stops. I struggled to differentiate between Lodgepole Pine (with longer needles growing in patches), Douglas Fir (like a Christmas tree, with 2 distinct white stripes on the underside of the needle), and Engelman’s Spruce (with flatter needles and generally a thinner trunk). I tried not to use up too much film on the first day, but I had to capture the elk scat (we also saw mountain lion and coyote), and lichen growing on a spruce tree (a fungi-algae symbiosis, Gail informed me). The ground is covered with tiny shrubs rather than grass—vaccinium (mountain cranberry) and juniper. We saw lots of bitterroot, particularly in the wetter areas, as well as western spring beauty, buttercups, and a lily not yet in bloom that turned out to be False Solomon’s Seal. Upward and upward and upward we climbed, Karl and Kea leading the sprinters while Gail offered lectures at the end of the line. I took a picture of the first tiny snowdrift, but the snow became a hassle soon after. The snowball fights were fun, but the trail was completely covered in at least a few feet of snow in the steeper sections. The alleged 3 miles took 3 hours, including breaks for water, photo ops, and GORP! When we FINALLY reached the lake (I was beginning to think we were on the wrong trail until a fisherman on his way down assured us that, yes, a lake truly does exist about 15 minutes further up), we ate lunch and then Karl took the ambitious souls up the mountain facing us. We appointed a girls’ potty to the left and a boy’s potty to the right, and someone asked where the trashcan was. –snicker-. Gail showed us slackers how to test water for dissolved oxygen, ad we all worked together to find the DO for the second sample (rinse the bottles, get a sample free of air without disturbing the water too much, add chemicals to “fix” it (turning it orange), titrate it till it’s pale yellow, add a chemical that makes it dark blue, titrate till it’s clear). The lake was 9,550 feet up. I’m surprised how well I’m doing with the elevation and all the exercise—guess I’m in good enough shape for it after all. The hike back down was more like controlled falling—I was one of several who unwillingly slid down one portion on the snow on my backside—cold and wet! Eek! But I managed to avoid the mud. On the upper half of the trail it was really wet where there wasn’t snow, and I frequently found myself sunk knee-deep into it. I think most of us were about to fall asleep on the van ride back to Birch Creek. I like it here—they feed us well and plenty, we have hot water, there’s plenty of space in the room I share with Nan and Lucie, and I slept like a rock last night until 6 am. Despite lathering up with 45 SPF this morning, I caught a little sun. After dinner we traveled into the city of Dillon for a stop at the Co-op supply—I got more postcards, a water bottle, and polarized sunglasses (to replace the pair I lost in an airport on the way there. I lost this new pair in an airport on the way home.) Now I’m sitting outside marveling at how cloudy it’s become. I can’t imagine getting tired of these views. And the cows! Several herds of cows hand out on the dirt road leading from Birch Creek Center to the paved road. They desert the fields for the strip of land around the dirt road. When we were heading for Dillon, among others there was a calf drinking from its mother in the middle of the road. We stopped and drove around it, commenting on how cute the cows are, and humorous. Yay, bonfire tonight!

6/27/99
2nd day in and we’ve already gotten caught in a rainstorm. After breakfast this morning we learned how to set up herbariums and went through the Discovery Trail here at Birch Creek Center. We attempted to learn how to use a compass to record exact location. As a general rule plants don’t interest me tremendously, but I enjoyed them immensely today. The method is roughly as follows: locate a specimen, note location, use key in book to determine name if possible, gently dig up roots if herbaceous or cut a full leaf sample if woody, label with masking tape and place in ziplock bag. I collected eleven today. The hike was not strenuous at all, at least for me—I took my time with the plants. The sky clouded over and it began to rain steadily when we were about halfway through the trail. We turned around and headed back, but got soaked. After drying off and lunch we pressed our plants. Rather than kicking up freshwater invertebrates in the afternoon as planned, we drove to the Fairmont Hot Springs. The lifeguards explained that they pump the water into the pool, but it has to be diluted with cold water because when it comes out of the ground it’s 170 degrees F. It was so weird to be in hot water surrounded by cool air and mountains (photo op). Following dinner, one of the students from University of Minnesota gave a brief survey of geologic time and paleontology. Tomorrow’s supposed to be a rough hike, so I’m glad today was pretty easy. Last night’s bonfire was fun! “Hey, you guys, it’s Jiffypop! Fun to make, fun to eat!” “It takes a village to raise a Jiffypop.” “Jiffypop is love—it takes time and everybody working together, but it tastes so good!” Christoph, subject of legend and song yesterday, arrived early this morning—poor Karl, who spent most of the night in the airport and driving. Arg, sitting outside as I write listening to birds, and I want to know what they are! Gail pointed out mountain bluebirds and a killdeer, but we haven’t focused on ornithology yet—there’s still a while to use our books, though. The plant book is definitely awesome. Forget Upde’s leaf project, I’m saving my herbarium. I hope I can get more samples—there were at least a dozen plants I wanted today but didn’t have time for. Should have brought more cardboard. I’m still marveling at the scenery. New fantasy: spending a few months in a cabin in the Rockies during the summer, riding horses up trails, enjoying nature, etc. What a refuge! I can’t believe I’ve only been here two days. 6/28/99 Today was awesome. We hiked through Beaverhead National Forest again. This trip was longer and steeper than Saturday’s, but the snow wasn’t as much of a hindrance. We tested the water at Minneopa, Tent, and Twin Lakes—I worked with others on nitrate-phosphate (which takes a while—fifteen minutes per sample), silica, and dissolved oxygen. The hike was great—we were outside from 9:15 till 4:45. The ground was very wet (thank goodness for waterproof boots), and of course there was a good deal of snow. We bushwhacked the second half of it because the trail wasn’t usable. One section was steep rock climbing, which was easier to go up than to come down. Gail loved it when I slid gracefully around the trunk of a tree obstruction our path and landed on my back on the ground. Hug the trees—They’re your friends, unless they’re uprooted. There was mud sliding and a friendly snowball fight at one point. Unlike yesterday the focus was more on hiking than on observing the flora except when we stopped for water testing. At lunch we saw white bark pines—I cut a leaf for my herbarium. In the classroom before taking off we covered the difference between growth regions—scrub, montane, sub alpine, and alpine. I’m still awed by the beauty of my surroundings. One stream we crossed captivated me—the water glided over rocks swiftly, but had a greenish-gold tint to it. There are a few small falls where we went, and no shortage of rocks anywhere. Guess that’s how the mountains got their name. Fun memories: walking along the trail Sam, Oliver, Kea and I were singing—just about anything we could think of from Beastie Boys to Patsy Cline. Oh, last night: after journaling we drove up to Farlin, and abandoned copper mining town. We poked around in the cabins there and took a group picture in which we held up cow bones that we found lying on the ground. That visit made me think: I’d never understood why people in the 1800s would pack up everything and ride their wagons out west, traveling for months to reach and alleged mine where they had a chance to strike it rich. It seems horribly impractical, and dangerous—I’ve heard about the Oregon Trail and how many people died along the way. But now I wonder if they knew how gorgeous the area was before they left the East Coast. If so, it would have been worth it. I love how fast the clouds move in the sky here. The weather varies—a wind can come up suddenly and be gone before you’ve got your sweater on—but it’s warm enough. Tonight we’re going to watch A River Runs Through It, which was set in none other than Missoula itself. As soon as I have a chance I’ll try my hand at artwork. Yeah colored pencils.

6/29/99
Busy day. Gail talked to us a little about limnology and sampling procedures. We then marched off in search of Thief Creek, where we ran water tests, timed the journey of an orange to measure velocity, and gathered freshwater invertebrates. The last of these activities requires us to take turns standing in the water for about thirty seconds at a stint, often up to mid-calf, either kicking up rocks or holding a filter to catch whatever turned up. We emptied our findings into buckets and sifted out the rocks and excess water. At Birch Creek we repeated the drill—by then I was acclimated to the 6 degree Celsius water temperature. We carried our loot back to Emerick to divvy it out for a survey. Using small bowls, tweezers, and magnifiers we searched out, identified, and tallied every squirmy creature—mayfly larvae, flatworms, stoneflies, caddisflies and the like. We compiled the data from both streams and will compare it later. (Good news: we’ve got an extra two days here at Birch Creek!) After lunch and clean-up we journeyed back to Dillon to patronize the Clean Critter Laundromat. I walked around downtown a little, to the music store and the post office. Brief stop for essentials at the Safeway then back in the vans. Kea and I started singing along to the Pasty Cline tape she bought in Dillon, which added to Gail’s frustrations—we were running late and traffic was slow because the interstate was being repaired. Once we made it onto our dirt road we saw that we were just in time for cattle roundup, and when the cows and truck weren’t blocking the roadway the dogs were. (Now there'’ a job for Beulah: herding cattle. If I were going to live in Montana I would need a dog like Beulah even if I didn’t raise cows.) Following dinner and an exciting game of Red Rover we all hiked up the ridge we would have come back on if it hadn’t rained Sunday. At the top of the ridge we lingered for a while. I wanted to take a photo but couldn’t pick a single shot to preserve. If you sat still for a few seconds you could see the line of sunlight receding as the sun made its way down. I love the shadows the clouds cast on the mountains during the day. And the verdas are cool—another thing I’ve never seen before. I picked up a couple more wildflowers for the herbarium. I really want to make that nice, something I can keep and augment as I grow older. Oh, I was so startled when, in the van in Dillon I saw a crow-sized black and white bird sitting on the street. I think it’s a magpie. I’ll have to tell Upde about all my bird sightings in September. The swallows that were making their nests at Farlin yesterday were great to watch. That reminds me, today we mined for gold in our stream water, and Oliver, Ryan, and Christoph found quite a few small slivers. Around here water’s more valuable, though, at least on our hikes. Everyone’s a little sore, and we’re started winding down a little before 11pm. I think the movie last night helped—I loved the scenery of A River Runs Through It, and the word is we’ll get to see where it was filmed, but I didn’t appreciate the plot too much. Oh, well. I love everything else we’ve done. Today’s animal sightings: deer on the way to Dillon and a rabbit Christoph stalked. Yay, I actually created a water color representation of a cabin.

6/30/99 Today was nice, but then all the days are. In the morning we went up to Bannack. After gathering to view an episode of Unsolved Mysteries that dealt with the legend of Plummer’s gold—and outlaw became sheriff of Bannack in the 1860s, stole and hid (allegedly) about $6 million worth of gold that people looked for until Bannack was placed under control of a federal bureau that’s preserved it since the 1940s. Students from University of Montana were there dressed in late 19th century garb holding lessons in the school house. We poked around in the other buildings—the hotel, a few houses, the jail, and the saloon. The bar in the saloon was a marvel in itself—it was 4ft high, 3ft wide, and about 25ft long, and all cut from a single piece of wood. Gail, Kea, Ryan, Sam, Oliver, and I went up to the gallows and then up the hill to a ridge where I sat and sketched the view. Being here certainly is pushing me to be more daring when it comes to experimenting with artwork. I’m not very good at all, but it’s practice. The only unpleasant thing about Bannack was the mosquito population. There were other bugs bigger than half an inch in length. I saw mountain bluebirds, robins, and a few more swallows. We climbed down for lunch on the edge of town, where there were picnic tables. Along the way we saw a baby cactus nestled into the mountain side. There are no large trees around the buildings but the sage bushes there grow taller than people. That’s what I’ll miss about Montana—the sage is everywhere here. We drove back into Beaverhead National Forest after lunch. The battle of the music in the van is amusing—we started the morning with Sam’s They Might Be Giants tape, then borrowed Karl’s Pearl Jam, then went back to Flood, and then on the last ride back to Birch Creek we played Karl’s Eagles collection. It’s all in the details. Anyway, we parked by Brown’s Lake and hiked 1.8 miles up to Lake Agnes. Gail said the topography map shows this hike as only rising 500 ft in elevation, but it felt closer to 1500. In many places the incline was greater than 45 degrees and there were many small rocks along the way. We stopped frequently going up and took it slow on the treacherous way down. We didn’t perform any water tests or even take the water temp—just hiked up in hopes of glimpsing the otters and/or graylings (fish that are normally found farther north, in Canada). Walking around Lake Agnes I saw two female mountain bluebirds—they hopped down from one tree, crossed the path I was on about 9 paces in front of where I stood, then continued on the other way together. When we got back down the mountain and had a few free minutes to poke around near Brown’s Lake I went off to find a cozy spot on the rocks by the water. I noticed a moth on the ground being battered by the wing, so I slowly approached it and laid down to block it from the wind. The creature surprised me by allowing me to pick it up and carry it back into the van. When it fluttered around the window I let it out of the vehicle, but I inspected it and might attempt to sketch it later. During the drive we saw a few deer—one had the balk half of its body on the road when we drove up. We saw bucks that were just growing antlers—they barely stretched out larger than the animals’ heads. No scat or tracks today. After dinner Kea suckered a backrub out of me—she’s so sweet! I broke out my baby oil on Sam. My skill and willingness in the area of massage appears to make some people love me and others avoid me. [a vague way of mentioning that a few of the girls think Sam and I are lesbians. Neither of us cares to go out of our way to correct this impression.] Whatever. Tonight I’ll probably head to the lodge to watch the Horse Whisperer. Winding down is always good, and I’m tired of writing postcards (shocking, I know). Ah, never mind, I just found out that the movie’s long and sappy. Guess I’ll chill with my pals. Our group of 17 has split into distinct groups already. A bit disappointing, but inevitable, I suppose.

7/1/99, high noon. We have an hour for lunch today so I wanted to journal a few things that I was recalling in the van just now and didn’t want to forget. A good deal of our time is spent in the vans, so it gives me a chance to ponder if the music and conversation don’t keep my interest. Today was the first time I noticed spray painted markings on trees. Previously some of the trails were marked by hacked out rectangles on trees, but spray paint is new. And we have seen grass growing along some of the trails. Yesterday driving to Bannack we passed several huge fields of long grass that waved in the wind like a vast rippling ocean. After journaling last night Oliver and I went up to the dining hall for pizza, then settled at a picnic bench to wait for sunset. I worked on my sketch of Bannack, we looked at clouds, talked about people, our families, our interests, etc. Hanging out in the cabin was cool till the assigned van controversy erupted. Lucie enjoyed her massage before bed. It was ten of seven when I woke up, so my shower was put off till after a groggy breakfast. Lab work with Kea involved collecting all the data of our tests these last few days and creating pie graphs of our invertebrate finds. We drove up to a very windy peak, Tower Mountain, with a 360-degree view of mountains. I’ve given up on photographs of landscapes. There’s no possible way to capture the effect of being surrounded by beauty. Besides, it was really cold wind, so most of us found shelter behind thick low bushes. I started a sketch of a tree that only has leaves on the side facing away from the wind.
(later). At one o’clock Christian (professor Tessier) gave us a geology lecture. Though informative, the lecture put a few people to sleep. He told us about some neat geological features of Glacier National Park, where we’ll be later. To wake up, we trekked the 3/4 mile up to a nameless pond near the Center for more water tests and invertebrate surveys. The water there was by far warmer than the streams, but icky because it was so stagnant. There were lots of moths or butterflies like the one I picked up yesterday at Brown’s Lake. Then came the ordeal of classifying and recording our new finds—tedious, but necessary. Before dinner I wandered up to the picnic tables behind the dining hall to work on my sketches, but Sarah, one of the girls from Minnesota, was there pruning sage and asked if I’d like to learn. I’ll have to preserve some before I leave. [I did, and it’s still in my freezer a year and a half later]. She told me they’d already been to Glacier, and that it’s really nice. She also recommends that I do my independent project on geology. I’ll think about it. Tonight we’ll be busy tying up loose ends since we take off tomorrow after breakfast. I need to finish my pie charts as soon as I go through all my plant samples and prepare labels for the herbarium. Then there’s packing. I’m gonna miss this place. Our get-away dinner was Mexican night. The guacamole convinced me that my aunt has spoiled me with her cooking. I can hear her bellowing at me, “well that’s what you get for jetting off to Montana to get eaten by a bear, kid!”

7/2/99. We’ve driven a lot today—cleaned up at Birch creek Center and left before nine, then stops at Dillon for gas and Bannack for Ryan’s camera. We passed by the cemetery near Bannack again, but didn’t stop. I would have liked to get out and poke around, see what the stones say. Oh well, something to put on my list of things to do next time I’m in Montana. We continued on to Big Hole National Battleground where we saw a short film on the Nez Perces who camped there in 1877. There was a small museum and the guy who worked there showed us camas lily. The Nez Perces boiled it for 24-48 hours, then ground it to eat and use in cakes. It tasted pretty good—I wished I could buy some. There were photos of Nez Perces and white soldiers who fought them, and examples of clothing, beadwork, and headdresses. Then we walked around the battlefield looking at the camas lilies and thistles. Teepee structures (made of Lodgepole Pine, of course) marked the temporary homes of Chief Joseph, Looking Glass, and other tribe leaders. People place offerings—feathers and small bead or skin sacks—on the teepees. Heading back to the van we saw a deer about 10 meters off the trail, which Christoph tracked for a little while. Then, an hour later, we got lunch at Subway and loitered at Kmart for an hour or so while our leaders did the food shopping. I called Mom and Aunt Christine, and teased Sam mercilessly because she talked to her boyfriend for over half an hour. I bought some music at Kmart for the can. The assigned van thing isn’t a big deal, or maybe I just got a good draw. Oliver has his harem, so he’s happy. Right now I’m sitting against a tree with my flashlight between my chin and shoulder because it’s almost eleven. My tent is currently the female gathering place, which is fine since I’m not sleepy just now. Setting up the tents with Miyun and Heather wasn’t too difficult, but then it was 4 or 5 when we arrived here. Kea and Gail are just now setting up their tent. Miyun, Oliver, Sam, Ryan, and I had cooking duty for dinner tonight—hobo packs. It took longer than expected to clean and chop everything. The campsite is equipped with 2 “chemical toilets” and an old water pup. The water’s safe, but full of iron—the pot for boiling corm looked like it was filled with beef broth. But the food was great. Can’t complain about roughing it when you’re getting veggie burgers, zucchini, corn, chocolate cookies, and Tang. After dinner and cleanup (rinsing dishes in nearby stream) we piled into the vans to go sightseeing in Metcalf Wildlife Refuge. There were dozens of deer in sight, and an array of birds: red winged blackbirds, a great blue heron, a hawk, and several varieties of ducks. There were, as usual, awesome views of mountains and clouds. I took one photo of the sunset colors reflecting off a lake. The Refuge would have been more fascinating if our trip had been earlier in the day. Michael’s cub scout knife has really come in handy, especially since we had to use our own knives on the vegetables tonight. I observed a few interesting things from the van today. Shortly after our 10 second visit to Idaho we drove through the town of Darcy.