Back to Montana! - August 2018

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 The Grand Adventure - Summer 2018 - Part One

 

 

The Start of the Trip!

We were gone a month. We put 3600 miles on the truck. The rhythm and routine of our style of travel settled into our bones. It was easy to wait for the sun in the early morning and a joy to sit out in the night with the stars above. Quiet mixed with the sound of a river or the wind in the trees completed our days.

Jack was the first character we met on our trip. It was Monday morning at Bob Scott Campground along highway 50. "Not many people realize how heavy sodium cyanide is," Jack explained as I remarked about the line of tankers crawling up from Austin in the early morning. The tanks had five axles at the rear indicating a heavy load. "They are all heading to the big mine at Round Mountain."

Jack was the kind of guy you meet at campgrounds who loves to talk. Once he gets the hook set it will be awhile before you are released. His saving grace was interesting subject matter. Jack was a retired geologist. "I started in Huston and oil.  Good lord, who wants to live in Huston? Hot and humid is not how I wanted to live. I switched to metals. The green people have no idea how much copper wire is wound into the generating motor behind each wheel on their Prius. We need metals. You know my wife is on a cruise right now so I said to Skyler, 'Skyler, let's get in the truck and camper and go to Colorado and do some hiking'" Skyler, the old golden retriever at Jack's's feet, nodded in the affirmative to authenticate the conversation. 

Jack wound effortlessly from story to story with a quick cadence that had us wondering how in the world did he manage to breathe? We heard about their drive to Alaska with the truck and camper and about the big meteor strike near Alamo, Nevada. "Incredible breccia, just incredible breccia and one of the world's largest impact craters!"

We left home Sunday afternoon. The summer's heat was on and visibility dreary and eye watering due to widespread smoke from wildfires. Western Nevada was even worse as we drove east. The late afternoon temperature in Fallon was 104°. The gray smoke haze had settled into the basins. Relief came as raindrops spattered on the windshield as we neared Austin. Small showers washed the air as we walked in the evening after settling in at the campground, lifting an oppressive weight from our minds and signaling a liberating thought that we were now on vacation.

Hard rain hit for a few minutes at dawn the next morning. It was a thrill as the smell of wet sage filled the camper and our lungs.

Jack delayed an early start to our drive. We were heading to our friend's new place in Montana's Bitterroot Valley. "Get us a list of projects we can help you with," we asked Muir Trek & Outdoor Woman, "and we'll come visit again and help." They delivered with a list of several good projects so "Back to Montana!"

Monday evening found us north of Jackpot, Nevada. Our Idaho Benchmark map indicated a campground at the dam forming Salmon Falls Creek Reservoir.

It was mostly empty and we took a site with a view.

The temperature dropped in the evening as we took our usual long walk as darkness came.

Tuesday we stopped in Ketchum and bought my Idaho fishing license. We decided on a leisurely drive through Stanley and the Sawtooth Valley. Evening found us encamped along the Salmon River east of Challis. The smoke from the Rabbit Foot Fire was evident.

We woke early Wednesday morning as we had a pleasant diversion from driving planned. A well known hot spring was in the area. A couple mile hike into the springs cuts down use just a bit. Would a midweek early morning visit offer us quiet peace?

Smoke from the fire was bad throughout the area this morning.

We reached the hot springs and found ourselves alone, an outstanding surprise!

The hot spring adds its water to the creek. Several pools have been created.

The steep gorge was a spectacular setting.

Even while soaking in restorative hot spring waters, the Lady still has her see mores close by.

We arrived at our friend's little spot in the Bitterroot Valley mid afternoon.

We found Yoder - the Mennonite rock guy - finishing up the improved driveway.

Dawn, the hardest working woman in Montana, was finishing the second cut from the 11 acres of hay.

And, we discovered, our friend Muir Trek has fitting right in with his neighbors.

It was like we had never left.

Thursday morning we started in on dismantling the dog prison erected by the previous owner.

I tend not to trust people with nervous animals. I figure it is the owner's fault, the owner creates and is responsible for anxiety. It was sad to see that the dogs had chewed on most everything in the prison compound. In addition, the horse's shelter was dangerous to walk into. It's 6x8 upright posts were destroyed by gnawing.

It was quite a day's project to reduce the dog prison into a usable slab for a new shed. A "three trips over to Don's" - a neighbor - for additional tools affair.

We started in on the horse pen built with "sucker rod" used in well drilling as makeshift corral material.

Friday was "in the dog house" day for Muir Trek. Outdoor Woman left early for Hamilton and an appointment with the dealership to have their truck serviced. Muir Trek should have remembered the appointment was for Thursday morning...............Since we had dismantled the dog prison, Muir Trek was allowed to wander free under house arrest.

The Lady & I went to work pulling t-posts, the remains of an electric fence. We figured the Bitterroot Valley was lush valley soil and with a little digging and tugging the posts would come free. Glacial till and rocks and this broad outwash plain soon convinced us otherwise. But, we are young and strong and do not give up. All sixteen of these t-posts would eventually yield to our efforts. We would not give up.

Dawn drove in to meet with Muir Trek and pick up items from the growing debris pile she could use. The Lady & I carried over the four posts we had liberated with much hard work.

"Why are you doing it that way?" Dawn, the hardest working woman in Montana asked me. It was obvious she was amused with what she saw as stupidity.

"You need a T post jack," she explained. "I make 'em. Weld them up myself back at my place. But," she added, "You can take a chain and make several wraps right at the ground and pull 'em out with the loader on that cute little tractor."

Muir Trek had mentioned finding a new chain in the tractor barn. The keys were in the Kubota. I fired up the little diesel motor, a happy sound that can become eerily addicting. The Lady was thrilled with our new found success. After the next 12 posts were extracted, she started looking for more posts to pull. I cautioned her that we didn't want to look like Californians who had come to "liberate Montana".

We took a break from this fun to meet the mobile windshield service folks to get a new windshield installed in our truck. Three rocks chips are the Montana standard. We had four rock chips and a new migrating crack.

"You are on vacation so you come to work at your friend's place?" the husband wife team asked as the Lady wrote the check for $169.

"We like to work. This is fun for us." the Lady answered.

They shook their heads.

Saturday we tackled wasps and hornets and the never ending irrigation leaks.

Well, at least Julie and I and Muir Trek did. Outdoor Woman was busy putting together a big dinner for Saturday night. They were meeting new neighbors, had invited them over for Saturday evening dinner. Nothing sets things off on the right foot better than one of Outdoor Woman's meals. We did inquire and offer to go away, hide downstairs, pull more t-posts, whatever it took, concerned that the neighbors meeting us could ruin their blossoming welcomes to the area. MT & OW calmed our fears and insisted we join in on dinner. They are so kind.

We got cleaned up best we could. I found a wrinkled collared shirt in my duffle, thrown in "just in case". The Lady wore a dress. Muir Trek & Outdoor Woman had never seen Julie in a dress before. They were surprised she even owned one. They were speechless.

Carol the new neighbor was not.

Bob & Carol arrived right on time, Montana punctual. They were nice folks and the liquid relaxant offered - fine red wine - liberated Carol She announced she was going to give the other neighbors a full report on the new neighbors, that was her charge. She also filled us in on everyone all around.  I must stress she did this only in a good way. Carol was kind and didn't dish out any unkind tidbits. But, Carol could talk. I was sure she must know Jack from Bob Scott Campground.

Carol described a wonderful group of neighbors. The Lady & I wanted to meet them all, especially Robbie in the pith helmet who always wore shorts and rubber boots.

Dinner was a success.

Sunday is a day of rest. I believe the bible says something like that. We'd take a break from projects. We were off to the Celtic Festival at the Daly Mansion in Hamilton, Montana.

The Daly Mansion was built as the home for Marcus and Margaret Daly, noted early citizens of the Bitterroot Valley.

The grounds are extensive and beautiful, a perfect place for Celts and others to gather.

The day was filled with fun. The Bonnie Knee contest was a bit hard to watch with the, often times, wandering hands.

The herding displays were informative and lively.

What we had come to see, had dreamt about in fact as soon as we saw it listed, was the skillet toss.

I don't really know what grabbed a hold of the Lady's non competitive nature, but as soon as she saw that 10 inch cast iron skillet, she called out, "I want to sign up for this!"

There was a variety of combatants.

This leftie had beautiful form.

This woman wanted to win. There was no question.

There were three rotations. Each woman tossed the skillet three times. The longest throw won. It was as simple as that.

The Lady walked up to the line for her first throw. I was ready to capture the moment.

It was instantaneous. She tossed that sucker. I needed to be much quicker with the shutter. A hush fell over the crowd. It was a great toss. She was a contender. Did we have a ringer from California?

I worked the crowd of other husbands.

"That was a damned good throw," one gentleman said and patted me on the shoulder.

"I'm surprised," I responded. "Until today I didn't know she knew what a skillet was."

I got the laughs I was looking for.

Julie's second toss was even better. The Lady was honing her skills. Only one woman threw further.

This was getting exciting. One husband ran to the far end of the field, danced about, and dared his wife to hit him when her turn came. The third and final round was up.

The Celtic woman was determined. Hers was a good toss. The skillet was impaled by its handle in the earth.

One woman made an incredible toss. No style or tactics for her. No three steps before the toss. She stood flatfooted and launched the skillet. She did not need a husband at the end of the field for a target. That skillet flew. It would be the winning throw. But, we knew the Lady was up to the challenge. This little wisp of a retired middle school PE teacher could pull this off.

She launched the skillet into the sky........................

............but released it just a little too late. What she lost in distance she gained in height. A hush fell over the crowd. The skillet returned to earth and landed mid field.

"I have never seen a cast iron skillet so high in the sky in my life!" Four or five people stopped us to make that comment on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at the Daly Mansion.

Who knew the Lady was a skillet tosser? Will she practice up during the off season and make a return next year? Will I get her a 10 inch cast iron skillet for Christmas?

We were back to work Monday morning. If you live in Montana's Bitterroot Valley, your life is simple during the summer. You irrigate with sprinklers and then you mow down what grows. Muir Trek & Outdoor Woman were headed back to California for a couple weeks and needed everything mowed before leaving. They needed to pack up the camper and get ready for their trip so we got to mowing. The Lady operated the zero turn mover and I used the mid mount mower on the BX23 tractor. The Lady did take out one large irrigation hose. Got a little too close. She felt awful. Muir Trek was kind, said it was an old one that had already lived a long and full life. It looked like an anaconda sliced into about fifty little segments.

We owe a big thank you to our friends for letting us visit and use up some energy with good old fashion work. It is fun to help them get settled in their new home.

We also hit the road Tuesday morning to continue our adventure. Remember that Idaho fishing license I bought? It was time to go fishing.