Star Gazer and the Swan

Trumpeter Swans on the Flathead River

12/11/2014

Near Perma, Montana

She'd her apron wrapped around her
And he took her for a swan
But oh and alas
It was she, Polly Von.

To hear Peter, Paul and Mary sing this beautiful Irish ballad, click here.

We seem to have a large population of Trumpeter Swans in our area this fall.  At least I'm assuming they are Trumpeter Swans, the largest bird native to North America.  They are known to live in both Ninepipes and Pablo National Wildlife Refuges, both of which are close to us, just to the east of Sanders County in Lake County.  They could be Tundra Swans, which are slightly smaller.  All the guides I consulted said that it is hard to tell the two species apart.  As a very amateur ornithologist, with at best an 800 mm lens set up on my camera, I was could not get a clear enough shot of the birds to be able to detect whether they have a red spot (Trumpeter) or a yellow spot (Tundra) on their bills--but apparently, even that distinction doesn't always apply.  In any event, I set out yesterday to see what I could find, since I usually see the birds on the river when Kevin is driving and I have no chance of getting a decent shot of them.  In my sightings, they range from the reservoir at Thompson Falls in the west almost to Dixon in the east, and are most commonly seen in the area around Seepay Creek, west of Perma.  That's where I saw these birds yesterday, and I crossed a barbed wire fence, trespassing on someone's land, to get the picture shown above.

In actuality, I set off yesterday to do two things I dearly love, geocaching and photography.  Last spring, I had the opportunity to use a Garmin Montana GPS unit, and while I found it somewhat frustrating--being handed an expensive and complicated tool with no instructions on how to use the thing--the more research I did, the more I felt that I had to add one of these to my own arsenal.  Accordingly, when Kevin asked what I wanted for Christmas, I had no trouble coming up with a response.  Kevin ordered one on-line and it was delivered Wednesday afternoon.  I debated whether I should open the box, or wrap it and put it under the tree, but in the end, I followed my doctor's orders (I had asked my Facebook friends what I should do and my physician said "Go definitely," so I went.)  Most of the rest of my friends who responded agreed that I should start using the thing immediately.  After all, life is short and we have no promises for tomorrow.  Right?

Pat's Knob as seen from MT Highway 28

12/11/2014

Near Plains, Montana

I got started geocaching back in 2006, while I was in California during the last year of my mother's life.  I bought a Garmin eTrex Legend and thought it would be a good tool for measuring how far I was hiking through the redwoods each week.  Turns out, the overstory in a redwood forest is generally so thick that the satellites can't penetrate the foliage, and the unit was useless for my purposes.  It was, however, ideal for searching out geocaches.  And if you don't know about geocaching, I recommend visiting geocaching.com to learn more about this passtime.  The best description I've seen is "I use multi-million dollar US Government equipment to find Tupperware containers in the woods.   What do you do for fun?"  Geocaching got its start in the Portland, Oregon area, and has grown into a world wide hobby.  At the time I started, there were over 1,500 caches hidden within a 100 mile radius of my California home, and as that home sits three miles from the Pacific Ocean, you have to figure that at least half that circle is under water.  By comparison, there were only about a hundred or so caches within 100 miles of Missoula, Montana in 2006.   To show how much the hobby has grown, there are now 6,178 caches within 100 miles of Plains, Montana.  I don't want to do the math.  You can see the exponential growth for yourself.  Suffice it to say that there are plenty to keep me busy for the rest of my life, and that's without leaving home.  Caches are hidden world-wide from Afghanistan (250) to Zimbabwe (188), and recently a cache was taken into space and placed in the Russian section of the International Space Station.  I don't think I'll be finding that one any time soon.

The Flathead River at Koo-Koo-Sint Fishing Access

12/11/2014

Near Paradise, Montana

I enjoy combining geocaching with photography, and the camera around my neck is a good excuse for me to be out in the open, searching around for something hidden.  Who knows, maybe I just lost my lens cap and that's why I'm down on the ground digging around the base of a tree.  It's handy to have such an excuse because you really want to protect the cache from "muggles," as non-cachers are known--people who might move or even destroy a cache should they become aware of its existence.

Armed with my Christmas present, I set off yesterday morning in search of a couple of caches that had been eluding me.  I figured it would be a good test to see just how much better the Montana 650t is over my old eTrex Legend.  And oh my, I have to say I fell in love with the new toy, er tool.  Workers at the Clark Fork Valley Hospital have placed four caches on the hospital grounds, and I had been unable to find two.  (I hadn't even attempted the other two.)  With my new unit in hand, I drove to the site of the first cache, and walked right to the cache.  I can't explain why I was unable to find it before as it seemed very obvious this time.  What I do know is that using my eTrex Legend, the coordinates appeared to be all over the place, and this time, with the Montana 650t, they stayed fixed in one location--the place where the cache was hidden.

Well now, if that was so easy, what about finding another cache that had successfully resisted my efforts.  Montana Highway 28 runs 47 miles from Plains at the southwest end to Elmo at the northeast.  There are 19 geocaches along that route--all but one right alongside the highway.  I had previously found 16 of the caches, avoiding the one that was two miles off the highway and not attempting one where major construction was being done at the time.  But one cache, appropriately called Spam, had stayed hidden even though I went back three times, and even took Kevin with me to try to find the darned thing.  I used my eTrex Legend.  I used the geocaching app on my iPhone.  I knew I was in the right area, but again, the co-ordinates were all over the place.  I could stand in one spot and be told that I was 4 feet from the cache, but if I circled around and came back to that same location, I would see that I was now 28 feet from the cache.  Frustrating doesn't begin to describe the situation.  Yesterday, with my Montana 650t, I found the cache--if not immediately, then pretty quickly.  And in fact, the new GPS led me directly to the cache.  It's my fault if I didn't see it right away.

The Perma Pictographs

12/11/2014

Near Perma, Montana

Driving back toward Plains, I stopped at the site where construction had stymied me last Spring, and quickly found the diabolically clever cache hidden there.  I also took the first of yesterday's photos, the view of Pat's Knob shown above.  Pat's Knob is the second highest peak in the Coeur d'Alene range of the Bitterroot Mountains, and I have written about it and my trips up the mountain several times in the past.  John W. Patrick was one of the earliest white settlers in the Plains area, and the Plains Chamber of Commerce explains the mountain's name on their website.

After a quick lunch at Subway, I headed east on Montana 200 in an attempt to find more of the caches hidden in this area.  The first place I stopped was at the Koo-koo-sint Fishing Access on the Flathead River.  David Thompson is the most important person in the northwest you've never heard of.  At least that's what I believe.  Thompson is the man the British government sent out to beat Lewis and Clark and thus solidify Great Britain's claims to the Oregon Country.  He didn't succeed, but in the attempt, he did more to map the Northwest than anyone else.  His name lives on in Sanders County through the Thompson River, the Little Thompson River, the Thompson Lakes, and of course the Sanders County Seat, Thompson Falls.  Because of his habit of going out at night, sextant in hand, the Salish people living in this area called him Koo-koo-sint, or Star Gazer.  Two locations in Sanders County bear the Salish name, the other being a hiking trail between Plains and Thompson Falls.  Thompson has become one of my heroes, and I heartily recommend that you learn everything you can about him.

Just east of the fishing access, Highway 200 enters the Flathead Indian Reservation.  This is the only place you can cross into the Reservation without seeing a sign so stating.  According to a friend and former Tribal Chair, James Steele Jr., the tribe got tired of constantly replacing the sign and no longer notes the change in jurisdiction.  I picked up a couple more caches along Highway 200, one of which was at a beautiful spot on the north side of the river, west of Perma.  This is a sacred site for the people of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, and one should approach it with reverence.  Unfortunately, that has not always been the response of visitors to the Perma Pictographs, and many of the scenes have been destroyed.  I have to admit, that I was unable to see any writing on the rock walls, but the location itself is so beautiful and so peaceful, that I can see many returns in the future.

All told, I added seven new caches to my list of those found, bringing me to a lifetime total of 295 finds.  My goal for 2014 is to pass 300.  With only five to go, and with this great tool now at my disposal, I don't think that will be a problem.

Camas Creek entering the Flathead River

12/11/2014

Perma, Montana

Up Around the Bend

Catch a ride to the end of the highway
And we'll meet

by the big red tree, There's a place up ahead and I'm going, Come along, come along with me.

--Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Goin' Up Around the Bend"

Click here to hear CCR on YouTube.

It's summer, and an old fart's fancy turns to the thought of heading out on the open road in a convertible.  And lo and behold, I have three convertibles, what luck.  Of course the 1976 Triumph Spitfire hasn't been driven in years and needs a complete overhaul, not to mention a new top and interior.  The 1996 Saab is a wonderful car, and drives beautifully, but for now, the top doesn't drop.  That's right, it's a convertible that doesn't convert.  That leaves my 1980 Triumph TR7 drop-head coupe, to give it its proper British name.

Looks like a fast car, doesn't it?  Last time I drove it, I went with the Garden City Rods & Customs club on a day trip around western Montana.  We left Missoula, drove in a round-about way to Helena, then on to Butte, and from Butte back home to Missoula.  At least that's what everybody else did.  There I was in the middle of the pack, surrounded by 1937 Chevrolets, Fords, etc.  and I couldn't keep up with them.  Now in all fairness, those 1937 Chevrolets were stock only in so far as their bodies looked authentic.  Underneath the sheet metal, they were anything but.  As we drove up and over MacDonald Pass on US Highway 12 (elevation 6,312), crossing the Continental Divide, I lost all power and quickly fell to the rear of the pack.  Once across the pass and headed down into Montana's capital city, I was able to catch back up, but my car was not happy climbing that hill.

South of Helena, we once again crossed the Continental Divide at Elk Park Pass (elevation 6,352) and once again, I lost power.  This time the leader of the pack was keeping me under his watchful eye, and I slowed the whole caravan down to a crawl from my position in 3rd place.  After a tasty lunch in Butte, we drove on to Deer Lodge where we stopped in the shade of the old prison walls for ice cream cones.  After this break, I could not get the car to even turn over, let alone run.  I told the gang to go on without me and I would get home on my own.  Reluctantly, they agreed.  Once I got the car running again, I made it roughly fifty miles before I limped off I-90 and pulled into the parking lot at Beavertail Pond.  And there I sat for at least two hours before I could get the car cooled down and running again.

As I said, that was the last time I had driven the car, and that was back in the summer of 2012.  But hope springs eternal, as they say, and I was determined to triumph over my Triumph.  When we moved to Plains, Kevin and our friend Michael put both Triumphs on Kevin's fifth-wheel flatbed trailer, and carried them to their new home.  Until last week, neither car had been moved from where we left them once we unloaded them from the trailer.  But now it's summer, and I NEED a convertible. So...

Dog Lake, AKA Rainbow Lake

Alongside MT Highway 28

Sanders County, MT

Last week I was able to get the 1948 Frazer to run.  It has no brakes, so running consists of turning the key, pressing the button on the dash, and letting the engine idle for 15 or 20 minutes.  Having crossed that off my list, I turned my attention to the TR7.  Leaving the battery on the charger over night allowed me to listen to the sound of the engine trying to turn over.  It wouldn't catch, unfortunately.  Mike was visiting, so he and Kevin left me watching Jeopardy and when they returned, the TR7 was running.  Idling roughly, but running none the less.  I moved it up to the garage.  Yesterday, I took it down to pick up the paper. (Ok, our driveway is over a 1/4 mile long, and it's another 1/2 mile to the paper drop.  I can walk there in 20 minutes and it takes me 25 to walk back.)  This was an excuse to see if the TR7 would settle down.  It did, having run out of gas about a mile from home.  Lesson learned:  Do not leave home to test drive an old car if your cell phone is sitting on the bedside table.  Once I had walked home in the summer heat, Kevin drove me back to the car with a five-gallon can full of gas.  Gee, once it had something in its belly, it started right up and let me drive it back home.

Later yesterday afternoon, I was working on the internet and got a Skype call from my dear friend Reneé who told me that her 84 year old mother has a dream.  She wants to arrive at this summer's family reunion at the wheel of a bright red sports car.  Well, the TR7 isn't red, it's brown, and not a particularly bright brown at that, but I offered it up just in case and suggested I'd drive it to Kalispell so that momma can check it out and see if she'll be able to drive it.  Trying to find a time when both my schedule and Reneé's match, I agreed to drive to Kalispell (90 miles one way) on Tuesday, June 18th.  Yes, that's tomorrow.  Before I can drive that far, I have to make sure the car will get me around town, so that brings us to this morning's drive.

First stop once leaving home was at NAPA, Plains Auto Parts.  A couple of years ago the gas cap on the car broke, and I bought a replacement locally.    Victoria British, where I order most everything I need for my Triumphs, ran out of OEM gas caps two years ago, so that wasn't an option. The replacement looked good, but didn't really fit and wouldn't allow any kind of vacuum to form in the gas line.  It was time to do something about that.  Sam at NAPA was very helpful, but it still took one hour and two calls to other stores to find a cap that would actually fit and seal.  While I was at it, I bought a new fuel filter, ordered an oil filter, and got some rubbing compound and (very expensive) wax to see if I can't bring back the shine,  Once done at NAPA, I crossed the street to Town Pump where $34 put 9.4 gallons of gas in the car, filling the tank.  Now it was time for a real test.

 

View to the East from MT 28

Looking toward the Camas Prairie

and the Mission Mountains beyond

Sanders County, Montana

Montana Highway 28 is a short cut route for people coming from the west and heading to Glacier National Park, Flathead Lake, Kalispell, and all points in between.  It's southern (or western) terminus is Plains, from whence it climbs steeply for close to eight miles before crossing into the Flathead Indian Reservation.  Shortly after crossing the Reservation boundary, it passes alongside Dog Lake which is also known as Rainbow Lake, and which requires a Tribal Recreation Permit to enjoy the waters.  Beyond Dog Lake, the scenery opens up for a view across the Camas Prairie, and then, after a final climb, there is a 6% grade drop toward the town of Hot Springs.  Before you reach Hot Springs, however, there is a junction with Montana Secondary 387 which leads back down to connect up with MT 200 at Perma.  Downshifting to 2nd, I turned onto 387 and headed back down the mountain.

The Camas Prairie School

The grandparents of my good friend Doc Reynolds

taught here once upon a time

Sanders County, Montana

On the way south, I passed the Camas Prairie School and the assorted ranches that house the local population, and in no time at all I was crossing the Flathead River and turning right onto MT 200 to make the final leg of my test drive.  I love the drive along the Flathead, even the Perma Curves where a series of tight twists slow traffic considerably on this beautiful section of road.  Being able to make the drive with the top down was just the best.  This is a section of highway I would like to take by bicycle, and indeed on today's drive, I met a group of bike tourists right in the Perma Curves.  I waved to each and every one of the dozen or so riders, but they were concentrating heavily on the road and the lack of shoulder space through the curves so didn't wave back.  I wasn't hurt by that.

Out of the curves, the road straightens and widens as it passes the junction with MT 135, the road that connects us to Interstate 90 some 21 miles southwest of the junction.  Three miles beyond that junction is the town of Paradise, and seven miles beyond Paradise is Plains.  The car didn't give me any problems on my drive, and handled the mountain roads with aplomb, not losing power or cutting out once.  I did notice that between the speeds of 45 and 55 there was a lot of shimmy in the steering wheel.  It smoothed out above 55, but this was definitely something I needed to look into.  One of the first businesses you meet entering Plains from the east is Baldy Mountain Tire.  I stopped there and they agreed to check all four tires for air pressure and balance.  As a reminder of how bad the economy is around here, the manager offered to check just the front two tires, as their charge was $8 per tire.  I assured him that my life was worth more than $32, and please, check all four.  The good news is that there is lots of tread left on the tires.  The bad news is that there is enough dry rot to warrant replacing all the tires with new ones.  I will do that anon, but not today.  One tire in particular, the right front, was badly out of balance and had worn in an uneven manner.  That was probably the cause of my shimmy.  As a precaution, the good people at Baldy Mountain rotated my tires as well, and I'm happy to say that the shimmy seems to have disappeared.

One last stop on my way home was to see when Gary's AutoBody and Glass could change my oil.  How about tomorrow at 8?  Great, that will get the oil changed (and I'll have them replace the fuel filter at the same time), and will allow me to be on the road in time to have lunch with Reneé and her partner Linda in Kalispell.  I can hardly wait.  Now--if the thunderstorms in the forecast will just hold off till I get there and back...  More to come.

 

The Clark Fork River east of Plains, Montana

(Note the bighorn sheep in the lower right corner)

By the way.  This was a day for a test drive, not photography.  All the pictures shown above were taken over the past few months as I've driven around the area.  The picture of the TR7 was taken this afternoon in my driveway at 12 Kay Wood Drive, Plains.