Hinton and Grande Prairie, Alberta, Canada

The weather was still a bit iffy when we left Banff National Park.  That day’s travels took us along the Icefields Parkway, a 146 mile long scenic road which runs through the heart of both Banff and Jasper national parks.  It passes through several icefields, which are described as large upland glaciers, and dozens of smaller glaciers as well. 

With a reduced speed limit and no commercial traffic, except for tour buses, it was a leisurely drive.  Wildlife spotting was limited but Bill and Carolyn did spot a bear at the roadside; we missed it, being too busy avoiding some tourists who’d made a quick U-turn to view the bear and didn’t bother to get their vehicle off the road.  There are endless signs along the roads admonishing drivers to watch out for wildlife when in fact “stupid people” are the real hazard.

We made a brief stop at the Icefields Interpretive Centre to photograph Athabasca Glacier which is edging its way down from the Columbia Icefield; the icefield covers 241 square miles, making it of sufficient size to keep the area a little on the cool side.  We were all chilled to the bone, not yet having learned that if you can see snow it’s probably cold outside! 

By the time we got to Jasper, it was raining again so we proceeded on to our campground in Hinton.  Generally we avoid KOAs for a variety of reasons, being over-priced being the major one.  The staff was friendly and helpful but that did not compensate for the fact that the “free wi-fi” mentioned in their advertisements was all but useless.  It worked for very brief periods of time in the middle of the night and the staff apparently had no idea that a lack of Internet access could be a real problem for their guests.  Fortunately Hinton is home to a nice library and we were able to use their wi-fi on Sunday afternoon, making the contacts we needed to make. 

We had hoped to hike the Beaver Boardwalk after our session at the library but by then the storm clouds had rolled in and there was a T-storm in the works.  Of course by the time we had committed to going back to the coach, the storm had moved on and blue skies reappeared. 

Hinton is a city with a very definite split personality.  It was once two towns and they’ve since merged…almost.  One section, where most of the stores are located, is known as “the hill”.  The other, known as “the valley” houses most of the community buildings such as the library.  It’s no easy matter to get from one side of town to the other.

From Hinton we drove due north on Route 40 to Grande Prairie, a 200+ mile traverse of magnificent scenery and very few people.  The road runs for a time along the Athabasca River, then the Smokey and crosses a number of smaller rivers and creeks which feed the larger rivers.  Within a very short time of leaving Hinton, we saw a moose.  That whetted our appetites to see more wildlife but, search as we might, nothing else made itself visible.  Toward the end of the route we did see a herd of elk which I mistook for cows because they seemed to be in a fenced pasture.  And we saw several white-tailed deer. 

Grande Prairie is a city of some 50,000 and sports at least one example of every kind of emporia you might imagine.  It is also teeming with traffic and bristling with energy and enthusiasm.  After an early supper, we took a bus tour of the city, conducted by the local Rotary Club.  The tour guide pointed out all the “city improvements” which have been donated by various local VIPs and organizations.  When we saw the downtown area, with all it’s unique shops, we were disappointed not to be staying  just a bit longer than one night.

It’s a comfort to learn that it’s not our over-active imagination that prices are high in Canada.  The tour guide told us of a trip she made to Las Vegas and was so impressed with how cheap everything was that she left most of her clothes behind and bought a whole new wardrobe.  Even with the purchase of new luggage and extra baggage fees, she was still ahead of the game.

The visitors center is housed in a large modern building which they share with the Chamber of Commerce and a museum.  It is situated overlooking the Bear Creek Reservoir and sports the largest sundial in North America.  This 40’ tall structure is made of concrete, steel and stainless steel.  The time capsules buried in the plaza around the sundial are scheduled to be opened in 2050.

Our campground in Grande Prairie (which sounds like Grand Prix when the locals say it) is going to be excellent some day.  Just not yet.  Everything is brand new, including the gravel sites.  Unfortunately with all the rain the area has received, there was nowhere near enough gravel in the sites to support the weight of  big rigs and we sank immediately into the mud.  Luckily the coach settled in a nearly level position.  The levelers would have been useless so they remain raised. 

Cochrane, Banff and Lake Louise, Alberta

Skies were still pretty sullen when we departed Lethbridge and headed north to Cochrane, a bedroom community northwest of Calgary.  The terrain we passed through was more of the same, mostly flat prairie with grazing cattle and tidy farms widely spaced.  The only “wildlife” we saw, except for a few elk in a pen, were a pair of coyotes heading off on some important errand.  They seemed very focused on their task and moved along at a pretty good clip. 

Our campground in Cochrane is very nicely located in the valley within walking distance of the Bow River.  The hills around us are beginning to show signs of “cliff dwellings”, large three-story homes crammed cheek by jowl along the ridges overlooking the town.  The downtown area features a lot of small boutiques and quirky shops.  So far we’ve found that most goods and services in Canada are significantly more expensive than in the U.S.  In many cases, we can expect to pay twice as much for just about everything while we’re here.  So we’ll try not to be here any longer than necessary.

Both Carolyn and I felt that we saw as much of Calgary as we needed as we drove through the city on the way to Cochrane, so it wasn’t any hardship to just bag it and not go back to explore further.  There weren’t many attractions that appealed to us and those that were of interest were more than we’d care to spend to see them.  So Howie and I made a mad dash to Costco in Calgary to stock up on power bars while Bill and Carolyn stayed in Cochrane to enjoy an over-priced lunch.  Each of us discovered some native customs we’d not encountered before.  One of the grocery chains rent their shopping carts for $1 (we assume it’s refundable) and charge for the plastic bags as well.  We opted to do our shopping elsewhere – the prices were not significantly lower to warrant the lack of amenities.  Meanwhile, Bill and Carolyn stopped for an ice cream; not only was it $3.99 a scoop but there was an additional fee for the dish to put it in.  What would happen if you refused the dish?  Would they just place a scoop of rocky road in your outstretched hand?

Obviously Bill and Carolyn are a good influence on us because we rolled out of the Cochrane campground nearly half an hour ahead of schedule.  The short drive to Banff was smooth and our sites at the Tunnel Mountain Trailer Park were available when we arrived.  This is an interesting campground with a large number of full hook-up sites.  While not exactly pull-throughs, they are more like pull-offs – large half-moon shaped sites arching from the main service road and with service pedestals near the front of the site and plenty of room to park the “toad” behind.  The fee was a bit more than we’re usually willing to spend.  If Howie figured correctly, this site is costing $65 U.S. a night between the camping fee and the daily park entry fee.  A storm knocked out both electricity and water pressure, along with the trio of t.v. stations which filter through the mountains and end up in Banff.   So, for more than three hours, it would appear that we paid a premium for a primitive site.  I’m fairly certain a refund will not be forthcoming.

But, between storms, there was a patch of partly sunny weather.  We raced to downtown Banff and trolled through the high-end shops while Howie hit the library for a wi-fi hook-up.  We picked up some brochures at the Visitors Center and elbowed our way through the hordes of tourists.  It was recommended that we drive to an over-look area to view the Bow River Falls, an absolute torrent racing eastward toward Calgary.  This is the same Bow River that was flowing placidly through Cochrane,where it no longer seemed to be in much of a hurry.

 

 

We took a scenic drive northward to the ski area at Norquay where we were treated to up-close-and-personal views of bighorn sheep grazing along the roads.  Still carrying most of their winter coats, they all looked a bit ratty. 

 

Old habits die hard and I was sorely tempted to leap out and start plucking out that dead coat.  Until I saw a pair of rams butting heads.  They weren’t even very serious about it yet the sound echoed across the hillsides.  We also spotted a pair of babies, probably this spring’s crop, cute little critters who were both graceful and clumsy as they navigated the steep banks alongside the road.

 

Friday was another day of iffy weather but we had to jump on the chance to visit Lake Louise no matter how threatening the skies might appear.  We had been advised to take the Bow Valley Parkway, aka the slow, scenic route, from Banff to Lake Louise.  This road, which parallels Route 1, has a 37 mph speed limit, is closed to commercial traffic and from March 1 to June 25 is closed to all traffic from 6:00 p.m. until 9:00 a.m. to minimize accidents involving wildlife.  Of course that also minimizes the chance of seeing any wildlife as well.  The guys think they might have spotted a bear but perhaps it was just a tree stump or some other dark object.  Bill assured us it was moving.  And that was the end of the wildlife viewing for the day.

 

We made a stop at Johnson Canyon.  Three of us made an attempt to hike to the Lower Falls (of Johnson Creek) while Bill wisely sat in a sunny spot and watched the other tourists traipsing about.  Two of us actually reached the Lower Falls but chicken-hearted me made a sharp U-turn as soon as  the catwalk veered out over the churning water of the fast-flowing creek (it’s a BIG creek, folks).  It was later reported by the brave hearts that the falls were right around the next bend of the walkway.  Of course it was!  It was only half a mile to the Lower Falls, or so the sign said, but the sign didn’t mention that was mostly uphill through mud and over fallen trees.

 

When it was time for lunch we stopped at a ski lodge.  If anyone had any notions of taking the gondola ride to the top of the run it was soon dampened when the sun disappeared behind a bank of clouds and the wind chill sent us shivering to the car.  Dark skies pursued from then on.  Lake Louise, even on a cloudy day, is an incredible color, more aquamarine than blue and reflecting the mountains which crowd her shores.  Not a large lake, there’s an easy walking trail around and the hotel had canoes for rent.  By this time it was too cold to do much of anything except retreat to the car.  When you know you’re going to be that close to a glacier, warmer clothes are a good idea!  When will we learn?

 

Our next stop was Moraine Lake, a 14 km drive into the wilderness.  Similar in color to Lake Louise, it is considerably less commercial but parking could be an issue on a nicer day in the busiest part of the tourist season.  Carolyn and I headed straight for the gift shop, hoping fervently that it was heated.  It was and we spent some time thawing out our fingers and toes and fondling the merchandise (all seriously over-priced).

Originally we intended to take the scenic route back to Banff as well but once we got back to Lake Louise Village, it began to rain in earnest and was just on the verge of being cold enough to become solid, so we all voted in favor of taking Route 1 back to base camp.  There are some very interesting bridges along this road and the route is sturdily fenced.  The bridges, which are quite wide and have grass and trees growing on them, are designed to allow the wildlife to pass safely from one side of the road to the other.  This provides a measure of safety for animals and motorists alike.  There are webcams for your viewing pleasure.

Upon return to Banff we went to work preparing for a move on Saturday and then warmed ourselves with large bowls of lentil soup which had been brewing all day in a slow-cooker.  Blessings on the person who invented that wonderful appliance!

Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada

We finally began our trek to Alaska with a baby step from Great Falls to Lethbridge.  The weather was overcast most of the way but not enough to obscure long views in every direction.  The trip is primarily through prairie with enormous pastures and grain fields with only a handful of small towns scattered along the way.  The border crossing was uneventful and we arrived at Bridgeview RV Resort in Lethbridge and were settled in by mid-afternoon.

The bridge which lends its name to the RV resort is known as the High Level Bridge and is the longest and highest bridge if its type in the world.   

It carries train traffic across the Oldman River (not Old Man River) and was first constructed of wood and completed in 1909.  Fires and rot eventually rendered it too dangerous and it was rebuilt from concrete and steel.  The terrain is very dramatic.  As you enter Lethbridge you’re lulled into thinking its just a flat prairie town but as you near the river you are treated to beautifully sculpted coulees which fall away down to the river where there are several parks with hiking and walking trails.  In spite of cool and cloudy weather, we saw plenty of folks taking advantage of the opportunity to stretch their legs.

After a quick stop at the Visitors’ Center, we drove out to Coaldale to visit the Alberta Birds of Prey Centre, a rehab facility for the raptors indigenous to the area. 

We were greeted at the door by this charming little fellow, only a few months old and still adorned with “baby fuzz”.  Although this is not a breeding facility per se, this owlet was a “happy mistake” and will eventually be used for demonstrations.  There aren’t many such facilities where the visitors are allowed anywhere near the exhibits but we were fortunate enough to be allowed to act as a living perch for two species of owls. 

Mr. Bogle has been an “employee” of the centre for many years.  His handler described him as being a bit grumpy that particular day but I really couldn’t say for sure.  When the raptors are feeling grumpy, they tend to clutch a little harder with their talons.  Never having held an owl before, I couldn’t judge whether or not his grip was “too tight”.

 

Although not native to Alberta, the Centre has a half dozen Harris hawks some of whom participate in flying demonstrations.  They are desert-dwellers, fairly common in the Southwest, and we enjoyed a display of their hunting prowess.  However, a pair of redwing blackbirds managed to run off the hawk when she ventured a little too near the blackbirds’ nesting area.  The hawk showed no inclination to retaliate, probably because she’d already had two or three helpings of “lunch”.

After poking our noses into the gift shop/ticket area we opted not to take a tour of Fort Whoop-Up.  The admission fee and scaled back activities dampened  our enthusiasm for a tour.  Fort Whoop-Up was one of the most notorious centers for the distribution of whiskey by a pair of American entrepreneurs to the native peoples.  The whiskey was “manufactured” on site from pure alcohol and water with some chewing tobacco, lye and hot pepper sauce for flavor and color.  We weren’t inclined to wait around until next month to hear a cannon being fired and so went off to scope out downtown Lethbridge instead.

On Sunday, under continuing cloudy skies, we trekked northward to Fort Macleod to tour the The Fort, a museum devoted to the history of the Northwest Mounted Police, now known as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.  The force was originated to put a stop to the nefarious activities at Fort Whoop-Up (and other such hell holes) and stop the flow of rotgut to the native peoples.  It was interesting to see the evolution of The Mounties uniform starting with a rather silly pillbox hat to the current handsome Stetson.  The founder insisted on good-quality solid colored horses in order to impress “the bad guys”.  The bright red jackets probably didn’t hurt!

Every town or city is entitled to its quirks and Lethbridge is no exception.  They like to consider themselves “the windy city” of Canada and for their 100th birthday the town’s movers and shakers presented the city with this Wind Gauge.  It sits prominently at the Visitors Centre and is an early indicator of what one can expect, weather-wise, while in the area.  No wonder tie-on hats are so popular around here.

Our next stop is Cochrane just north of Calgary.

Helena and Great Falls, Montana

Although it seems a lifetime ago, it was only two weeks ago when we spent a week in Helena visiting with Mike and Darlene before moving north to Great Falls to position ourselves for departure to Alaska.  The weather was miserable the whole time we were in Helena and we didn’t get so much as a glimpse of the sun.  It rained nearly every day which only added to the flooding problems around the state.  And put us even further into a dark blue funk.  New snow appeared regularly on the nearby mountains.

Skies were still leaden when we arrived in Great Falls with more or less constant rain.  Our campground is very near where the Sun River joins the Missouri and some of the lower-lying areas are under water.  Last week the Corps of Engineers opened the spillway at Ft. Peck to release some of the Missouri, which guarantees that areas of North and South Dakota will flood.  We hope that all our full-timing friends are out of harm’s way.

On our first weekend in Great Falls, the sun came out just long enough for us to visit the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center east of the city.  However, I was feeling unwell and Howie ended up pushing me through the facility in a wheelchair.  It’s an interesting museum and it was a disappointment not to be able to enjoy it.  

We also made a quick stop at Giant Springs State Park to see the world’s shortest river.  The springs themselves are remarkably clear, offering stark contrast to the turgid Missouri just beyond.

 

 

 

 

 

We wanted to take advantage of the rare day of good weather and go around to see all the falls that make Great Falls great but I wasn’t feeling up to more travel.

By Sunday I was feeling extremely weak and unsteady so Howie took me to the emergency room at the local hospital.  Long story short, I spent the next week flat on my back tethered to an IV device while the doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with me.  White blood cells were all cattywumpas but there was nothing to indicate an obvious culprit.  Blood work done yesterday shows everything pretty much returned to normal, a virus was blamed and so I’ve been cleared to make the trek to Alaska after all. 

Meanwhile, our traveling companions, Bill and Carolyn, have arrived from Colorado and we’ve been roughing out an itinerary and schedule.  Thank heavens Carolyn is highly organized and motivated so it has fallen to her to put the bits and pieces together.  We’re supposed to meet up with Russ and Rochelle somewhere along the line but we’ll have to play that by ear since they’re starting out a week later than we are. 

So the Great Alaskan Adventure is about to start.  Stay tuned for all the highlights.

White Sulphur Springs, Montana

It’s hard to believe that a person could suffer from S.A.D.D. while in Big Sky country but it is possible, take my word for it.   Our stay in White Sulphur Springs was spent almost entirely under leaden skies with clouds hovering so close to the ground that they obscured our fine view of the Big Belt Mountains.  A combination of almost constant rain and melting snow has swollen many of the rivers and streams in Montana to flood stage.  Although we weren’t affected by it, at one point a long portion of I-90 east of Billings was closed due to floodwaters along the Yellowstone River.  The Smith River, which originates near White Sulphur Springs and is a favorite with serious “floaters”, has already claimed one victim this season.

I had a vague memory of White Sulphur Springs but it turned out to be totally inaccurate.  I was recalling a large white Victorian-era hotel with lots of shade trees.  The truth was closer to a ‘50s era motel with not so much as a shrub much less trees.  It is entirely possible I had White Sulphur Springs and Warm Springs mixed up…which means it wasn’t a Victorian-era hotel I was recalling.  These days White Sulphur Springs is no longer a bustling town midway between Helena and Harlowtown but rather a cluster of small homes, several bars and restaurants and a few miscellaneous businesses, most having more than one purpose, i.e. the state liquor store/shoe store/boutique. 

The Conestoga Campground was our home for six days.  We had almost all the creature comforts except that t.v. reception came and went at the whim of the weather and the repeater station.  We met some really nice folks and had a good time in spite of the depressing weather.  And we were able to watch the final episode of “Dancing With The Stars” thanks to the owner keeping the clubhouse open late.  We all appreciated it.

Our arrival was just a bit too early and some of the area attractions weren’t open for the season.  Memorial Day is the magic day apparently.  However, the Meagher County Historical Society Museum, known as The Castle, was open for business and we were given an interesting escorted tour.  Photographs were not allowed but there are several of the interior on their website.   A new structure to one side of The Castle houses a collection of donated items from area families, including a fascinating typewriter manufactured by the Blickensderfer Typewriter Company of Stamford, Conn.   Howie noticed it did not have a QWERTY keyboard and that a cylinder was employed instead of keys, very similar to the much later IBM Selectric.  A good description and an animated photo of the cylinder in action are available on an informative website we found.  We later learned that the fonts could be changed by changing the cylinders.  The model on display is the  “Blickensderfer 8”, which was also ahead of its time in that it incorporated a tabulator system.

We had picked up a brochure for the Bair Family Farm Museum indicating it was open several days a week during May and September, daily Memorial Day to Labor Day so, in spite of rainy weather, we took of for Martinsdale, a 30+ mile drive over hill and dale.  We should have called first because it had not yet opened for the season, in spite of what the brochure said.  On the drive over we saw no other vehicles going in our direction and only a few headed the opposite way.   And we learned an important lesson – a phone call in advance saves time in the long run.

In spite of the fact that the sun made only brief appearances during our stay, it did manage to produce several spectacular sunsets.  As it sat, the sun peeked under the dome of heavy clouds and created all sorts of interesting shapes and colors.  We even managed to enjoy one Happy Hour with some of our neighbors as the sun disappeared over the horizon.,.of course, we were all bundled up in heavy sweatshirts and jackets!

The Smith River flows nearby and the campground has a small pond so the Mayflies were hatching.  At evening the skies were filled with swallows darting about enjoying a feast.  These handsome little birds had already ousted the Western bluebirds from their boxes and established themselves all along the perimeter of the campground.

It was raining so hard the day we left White Sulphur Springs that we didn’t even go around to say formal goodbyes to all the folks we’d met.  We took U.S. 12 to Helena, along a stretch known as the Lewis and Clark Scenic Highway through the Big Belt Mountains.  I’m sure it’s a beautiful drive in good weather.  The road is quite narrow, with no shoulders, and Deep Creek was running fast and furious, sometimes right at the road’s edge.  Again, there was very little traffic and only a few isolated ranches and cabins until we got to Townsend.

We’ve hunkered down in Helena to wait for an improvement in the weather and to be off the road for Memorial Day.

Bozeman, Montana

Bozeman is a delightful little city, sandwiched in a flat spot between the Bridger and Gallatin ranges.  It’s big enough to have a Costco and small enough to get around in easily, two features which endear a city to me.   The downtown area has several blocks of small shops and interesting cafes and seems to be always pleasantly busy.  Bozeman is not all that far removed from its rip-snorting wild west days but is now one of the fastest growing cities in Montana, high-tech and entrepreneurial.   With major ski destinations nearby, it has become a hub for the schussing  set and has the mini-mansions to prove it.

The town was named for John Bozeman, a frontiersman who established a short cut for travelers on the Oregon Trail that branched off in Wyoming and headed straight through Indian territory and into Montana.  The natives took exception to the trespassing and the trail became known as “the bloody Bozeman”.  John himself was a handsome fellow who met an untimely death in his early 30’s.   There is still some controversy over the cause of his demise – was he killed by a Blackfoot band on the Yellowstone River or was he done in by a jealous husband?  The truth will likely never be known but the official answer is carved on his tombstone here at Sunset Hills Cemetery.

The Pioneer Museum, housed in the former county jail, sports an interesting collection of memorabilia from the town’s earliest days, including a full feather head-dress found at the Little Bighorn the day after Custer made his last stand.  Unlike most “hanging trees” this jail features an indoor contraption (used only once) that takes up little space and looks almost modern compared with other devices for that purpose.

It was a crisp sunny day when we headed west to visit Madison Buffalo Jump State Park near Three Forks.  The park has few explanatory signs, a lock-box for entrance fees and the jump.  And just about all the silence a body could handle.  “Remote” does not begin to describe the place and it’s hard to imagine the noise and confusion that must have accompanied the end of a tribe’s bison hunt. 

Somewhat less remote is the Missouri Headwaters State Park, not far from the town of Three Forks.  Here the Gallatin, Madison and Jefferson rivers come together to form the Missouri, which then heads north before making a dog-leg to the right and heading east.  The snowpack had only just begun to melt when we were there and the rivers were running at a good clip but not dangerously so.  The river was just a great place to romp for this herd of horses; they were splashing around, having a grand time and enjoying a find spring day.  Standing on the bank, listening to the sound of water, brings to mind the Norman Maclean book “A River Runs Through It”.  It’s also easy to picture Lewis and Clark poling their pirogue, at least where the water is deep and smooth.  And, once again, the quiet was all-encompassing except for the river sounds.  There’s not much traffic here this early in the season.

One of the quirkier museums we’ve ever visited is the American Computer Museum, housed in a corner suite of what can only be described as “a professional park”, mostly insurance offices and medical specialists, near the MSU campus.   The museum has room to display only about 6% of its collection but they have some fascinating items to show.  It can be a bit depressing to see devices you once thought of as highly advanced from a technology standpoint now viewed as “antiques”.  We were disappointed that a model of our first Xerox computer, or at least the daisy wheel printer, wasn’t  exhibited.

I wanted to get a closer look at the big white “M”, a symbol dear to the hearts of Montana State University alums, so we drove out for a look-see.  It was an extremely windy day so we didn’t even attempt the steep trail up to the “M”.   Not that failing knees would have permitted it.  This leads me to wonder where the dividing line falls in Montana weather reports – one day was described as “breezy” and the next as “windy” but both made the coach rock and stirred up a bit of motion sickness just sitting in the car.  As near as we could determine,  “windy” is 1 mph stronger than “breezy”. 

From there we headed across town and out toward Four Corners then up into Gallatin Canyon going toward Big Sky.  We had no intention of going that far but were looking for something called “House Rock” which a local had told us was a sight to see when the river was running high and the water went over the rock and not just around it.  We aren’t sure that this is House Rock but it was certainly fun to watch these rafters fairly flying downstream.  We saw one single-man raft flip over but the occupant soon righted himself and continued on to the pick-up point below.  There were spectators perched on rocks overhanging the river but we were content to watch from the safety of a nice solid highway pull-off.

Besides the ski areas of Big Sky and Bridger Bowl, Bozeman’s biggest attraction is The Museum of the Rockies, a fine facility on the MSU campus and one affiliated with the Smithsonian.  Montana has been a treasure trove of dinosaur bones and has active digs going on in various parts of the state.  And those big bones have to be displayed somewhere, hence the museum.  We spent four hours roaming around, gawking at the exhibits.  There were models, of course, but many of the actual skeletons are displayed.  It’s almost too much to take in all at once which is probably why the admission fee is for a two-day pass.

In addition to the dinosaur exhibit, there is a nice collection of Native American artifacts.  The beadwork was especially interesting and it’s always fascinating to see such modern-looking designs on primitive pieces.  Photographs were not permitted in that section of the museum.

There’s also a large space for rotating exhibits and we were fortunate enough to arrive in time to see “Frogs: A Chorus of Colors”.  Many zoos and aquariums have displays of frogs and toads but this exhibit featured the brightest and most interesting of the species.  There were the gaudy poison dart frogs, with their electric colors.  and the long-nose horned frog which was hard to locate thanks to his looking pretty much like a dried up oak leaf.  But these were our favorites, the waxy monkey frogs, who reminded us of those fine fellows in the Budweiser commercials.  At first they appeared fake, never moving or changing expression (can frogs smile?) but finally one swallowed and I was finally convinced they were real.

And so we said farewell to Bozeman and moved on a bit north to White Sulphur Springs.  We’ll be reporting from here early next week.  Meanwhile, we can mention that from the front window of the coach we have a grand view of a herd of black Angus, the snow covered foothills of the Big Belts and the Smith River which is nearing flood stage.  Stay tuned.

Dillon, Montana

Our stop in Dillon was brief, selected only as a place-to-be over a weekend, but it turned out to be one of the more interesting places to spend three days, even with the lousy weather conspiring to keep us confined to the coach.  Our campground had all the comforts of home up to and including all the peace and quiet a body could handle.  But we were eager to get out and explore the area.

Saturday promised to be nice enough in Dillon but nasty-looking clouds (the sort that produce snow) were lurking about in the general direction we wanted to explore, south and west to visit Bannack State Park.  But by late morning the skies had cleared and we hit the road.  We didn’t encounter any snow, even at Badger Pass which tops out about 6200 feet.  The terrain is mostly rolling hills with long views to distant mountain ranges.  Very pretty.

As a state park, Bannack is most unusual.  It essentially comprises what used to be the entire gold-mining community of Bannack.  But unlike so many other ghost towns, this one has not been commercialized.  As a matter of fact, even the visitors’ center is closed during the “winter months”.  The streets were empty of all but a few hardy folks wandering about, poking into those buildings which were not padlocked.  It’s all on the honor system; visitors are expected to place park fees in a lock-box, borrow a brochure (or leave $2 if you want to keep it) and wander through the town at will.

One soon becomes aware of an enormous lack of noise, only the wind whistling and whispering (and sometimes yelling), the slight creaking of the boardwalk as you pace along the street, laughter coming from unseen children.   Even those who don’t believe in ghosts would find this place haunted.

Gold was discovered along Grasshopper Creek in 1862 and within a year the town was established and in time reached a population of 3000 people, some good, some very bad.  The Methodist Church was the only structure specifically built for worship but I’m sure more than one miner left his gold in the collection plate of the Skinner Saloon.

The name Bannack came about thanks to an error on the part of the Federal Government.  The town fathers had intended to name the town after the Bannock Indians but thanks to a typo in Washington, D.C., the town went down in history as Bannack and became the first territorial capitol of Montana. 

Here’s a picture of what remains of the original  Governor’s Mansion which burnt down in the early 1900’s.  Logs salvaged from the mansion were used to build this cabin.  Please note the sod roof.  The jail is no more imposing than the mansion.  It hardly looks capable of confining any but the meekest souls and Bannack was not known for its meekness.  It was headquarters for Henry Plummer and his gang – he was the chief law enforcement officer and the chief bad guy as well. 

The Bannack Cemetery is atop a hill north of town.  If anything, it is even more quiet than the town.  A few of the graves were sporting bright plastic flowers, a jarring contrast to the muted colors of the sagebrush and native grasses. 

 

We zoomed back to Dillon in hopes of touring the local historical society museum but it was closed for the weekend.  Instead we strolled around downtown, stopping at the library for their used book sale.  What a handsome building!  It’s made from local limestone with a quartet of gargoyles for garnish.

This devilish fellow struck our fancy.  The librarian told us that the stonecutter hired for the library project died before it was completed and that his wife finished the job.  It’s these intriguing little factoids that keep us poking around wherever we are.