New Yaak Times

Oo ah oo ah oo oo, Kitty
Tell us about the boy
From New York City
Oo ah oo ah come on, Kitty
Tell us about the boy
From New York City

George Davis & John T. Taylor

To hear the Manhattan Transfer sing Boy From New York City, click here.

Thompson River
Taken 7/26/09
Sanders County, Montana

Clicking on a photo or a link will open a new window. In my opinion, these photos look much better at full screen, so that's what will happen should you click on one. You also have the option of seeing all the edited photos from this trip on my Picasa web gallery.

In the early days of vehicular traffic, Montana's cities sold license plates printed with the city name on the plate. In the early 1930s, Montana standardized plates state-wide, using a one or two digit code to designate the county of registration. This system remains in place today, although with the advent first of vanity plates and then affinity plates, more and more cars sport the three letter, three number system used by so many other states. Montanans of my generation can still tell you what county a car comes from if the car owner just gets the no extra cost regular plate. The county numbers haven't changed since they were first introduced over seventy years ago. They represent the political clout a given county had in the state legislature back when the system was first introduced.

Lincoln County is neither the smallest county in area, nor the last county created in the state. It has never been the smallest county in population either, but in a state with fifty-six counties, Lincoln County vehicles bear the number 56. This reflects the remoteness of the northwestern most county in a very remote and sparsely populated state. And in remote Lincoln County, far from any possible madding crowd, flows the Yaak River. After spending Saturday on the Blackfoot River, on Sunday we climbed in the back seat of Mike and Norm's 1997 Lincoln Town Car and headed north and west. We were going to see the Yaak.

As I noted in my post Adventures in HDR after having spent a day on the edge of Glacier Park, we had planned to drive back and head across the Going to the Sun Highway. This would be a very long day, however, and we were worried if Norm had the stamina for the trip. Norm, however, had other ideas. He wanted to see the Yaak. Of the four of us, only Kevin had ever been to the Yaak, so in time we agreed, and Sunday's drive, while no shorter than the planned Glacier trip, presented a fascinating collage of rivers, forests, mountains, lakes, rain and sunshine.

When Mike and Norm first moved to Montana from Memphis, they bought land and a cabin just outside Thompson Falls, the county seat of Sanders County (number 35 on our license plates). Thompson Falls proved too remote when Norm was needing dialysis three times a week, which meant a two-hundred-mile round trip drive to Missoula for each session. They sold their place in Thompson, found a house just across the railroad tracks from us, and moved to Missoula. Mike, Norm, Kevin and I get together roughly three times a week for dinner, ham radio events, or sight-seeing jaunts across western Montana.

We left Missoula (county number 4) heading north on US 93 and crossed into Lake County (number 15) just south of the town of Arlee on the Flathead Indian Reservation. At Ravalli, we turned west on Montana highway 200, and followed the Flathead River toward its confluence with the Clark Fork just east of Paradise. (I could make a comment about being East of Eden, but I'll forego that pleasure.) Along the way we crossed into Sanders County, and stopped to pick up some road food at the supermarket in Thompson.

Our route north from Thompson took us on a forest service road (read dirt and gravel, not pavement) along the western bank of the Thompson River. Who is this Thompson anyway? Well, David Thompson (1770-1857) was an explorer, a fur trapper, and as one web-site puts it, "arguably the greatest geographer the world has ever known." You can find more information on Thompson than you probably ever would want by clicking here.

Thompson River Valley Farm
Taken 7/26/09
Sanders County, Montana

Now if you remember your US History lessons, prior to the signing of the Oregon Treaty in 1846, all the land north of the 42nd parallel and west of the Rocky Mountains was in dispute. The US referred to this area as Oregon Country and the British called it the Columbia Department of the Hudson's Bay Company. You may have heard of a campaign slogan from the 1840s, "Fifty-four forty or fight." This slogan referred to the southern boundary of Russian America (established in 1825), the area we now know as Alaska, which was simultaneously the northern boundary of Oregon Country/Columbia District. I'm sure you've heard the phrase "Manifest Destiny" which also refers to the fact that Americans felt it their God-given right to control all land from the Atlantic to the Pacific, including all of Oregon Country. President Polk campaigned on the issue of securing America's northwest, but in the end chose to compromise with the British, rather than fight them, and the 49th parallel was set as the international boundary. Polk found other ways to be belligerent, however, and at the same time add to the US land mass by sending in troops to fight the Mexicans, understandably upset over the loss of Texas. Unfortunately for the Mexicans, they lost this war which led to the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo which added the land south of the 42nd parallel and west of the Rockies to the U.S. In short, having already lost Texas in 1845, Mexico lost an additional 55% of its land thanks to this treaty. If you live in the states of California, Nevada, Utah, most of Arizona and New Mexico, and that part of Colorado and Wyoming west of the Rockies (and south of the 42nd parallel), you live in what was Mexico until the 1840s. The little bit of Arizona and New Mexico that wasn't ceded by the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was then purchased from Mexico in 1853 in what is known as the Gadsden Purchase. The purchase was supposed to include considerably more land than we actually took, but for some reason, the Mexicans, having first lost Texas then everything west of the Rockies through the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, just didn't want to give up any more land. Go figure.

But this post covers the Northwest, not the Southwest, so let's return to David Thompson, the Hudson Bay Company and Oregon Country. More specifically, let's return to Sanders and Lincoln Counties, Montana, where Thompson, in the employ of the Hudson Bay Company, left his name on just about every topographical feature to be found. As we drove north along the Thompson River, the rain began to fall. It would follow us, off and on, the rest of the day.

In time, we reached US highway 2, and turned west toward the Lincoln County seat of Libby. Libby has become known nationally, and perhaps world-wide, because of the law suits against the W.R. Grace Company who until recently mined vermiculite there. The resulting asbestos exposure has made life a living hell for many Libby residents. Asbestos be damned, we said, and stopped for breakfast at the Treasure Mountain Casino Restaurant. My $4.99 steak and eggs breakfast was one of the best breakfasts I've had. And you certainly couldn't beat the price.

Yaak Falls
Taken 7/26/09
Lincoln County, Montana

Having fed both ourselves and the Lincoln, we continued west on 2 through the town of Troy. When we first turned onto Highway 2, we passed a chain of lakes, also named for David Thompson. At Libby our route took us alongside the Kootenai River which has its headwaters in Canada, flows south into Montana, west into Idaho, north back into Canada, and finally joins the Columbia. Western Montana is a mountainous region, and the average elevation across the state is close to 3,000 feet. Missoula, for example sits at 3200 feet. At Troy, the mountains above us made it hard to believe that the lowest point in the state is where the Kootenai River crosses into Idaho (1800 feet in elevation). Less than five miles from the Idaho state line, we turned north to follow the Yaak, and immediately began climbing.

We stopped to check out a campground on the Yaak, then again at Yaak Falls where both I and my camera got thoroughly soaked. No I didn't fall in the river or over the falls, but the rain picked up again while I was studying a group of teen-aged boys who were climbing the falls then jumping off the cliffs into the river below.

Boys will be boys
Taken 7/26/09
Yaak Falls, Lincoln County Montana

Back in the car, soaked to the skin, I kept quiet as we drove through the town of Yaak--ok, the wide spot in the road known as Yaak. I would have liked to stop at the bar and asked if the newspaper was still being published. Yes, I'm afraid it's true, there used to be a paper, or maybe more of a newsletter, printed up and distributed under the name of The New Yaak Times. According to the Library of Congress, this paper was printed monthly in Bonner's Ferry Idaho, just across the state line. The road continued to twist, turn and climb, until sixty miles from the lowest point in the state, we crossed a pass at nearly 7,000 feet. From there we descended toward the Kootenai River and Lake Koocanusa--a reservoir held back by Libby Dam and named because it's the Kootenai River (KOO) and covers ground in both Canada (CAN) and the US (USA). Bet you'd never have figured that one out.

By this time it was getting late. The GPS unit on the Lincoln's dash was warning us that we needed coffee, and we were all getting tired. A quick stop in the town of Eureka where I found a rare 1958 Packard--well a 1958 Studebaker that had a special nose and Packard badges showing how the mighty fall--then south on US 93 into Flathead County (Number 7--bet ya thought I'd forgotten my county numbers), through the resort community of Whitefish, the county seat of Kalispell, and alongside Flathead Lake which brought us back into Lake County, Missoula County, and home.

Lake Koocanusa near Eureka, Montana
Taken 7/26/09
Lincoln County, Montana

I won't speak for Norm and Mike, but Kevin and I were exhausted and glad to climb into bed once we gave Rocky his shot of insulin. And as for the Yaak? I can't wait to get back up there.

Till next time.

Rollin' on the River

I guess it all blew up in Missoula
There just was no other way
After months of goin crazy, there was nothin left to say
But when the dust had finally settled
And the air had quickly cleared
Whoa, things were better off than I had feared

jimmy buffett and greg taylor, 1977

To see and hear Jimmy Buffet perform this song, click here.

The Big Blackfoot River
Taken 7/25/09
Johnsrud Park, Montana

NOTE PLEASE: Clicking on any photograph will open a full-screen version of that photo in a separate window. All links also open in a separate window. Finally, should you be so inclined, you can see these photos and more taken on the river, but unedited, on my Picasa website.

Arguably, the most famous book ever set in Missoula is Norman Maclean's 1976 A River Runs Through It. Now the river in the title is metaphorical, but the actual river on the banks of which much of the story is set is the Blackfoot River. Early in the story, Maclean writes:

Paul and I fished a good many big rivers, but when one of us referred to "the big river" the other knew it was the Big Blackfoot. It isn't the biggest river we fished, but it is the most powerful, and per pound, so are its fish. It runs straight and hard--on a map or from an airplane it is almost a straight line running due west from its headwaters at Rogers Pass on the Continental Divide to Bonner, Montana, where it empties into the South Fork of the Clark Fork of the Columbia. It runs hard all the way.

Speaking from very personal experience, I can vouch for that last statement. When I took my river canoeing class, the final "exam" was to run a seven mile stretch of the Big Blackfoot from Whitaker Bridge to Johnsrud Park. As we neared Thibodeau Rapids, our instructor made us beach our canoes, and walk downstream to reconnoiter. Pointing to two rocks on the left side of the current, he said "That's where you'll capsize." I'm proud to say that of the twelve boats in our class, eight did capsize, but mine was the only one to capsize on the rocks. The others flipped over long before they reached our own personal Scylla and Charybdis. It was at least a quarter mile before I was able to get my feet under me and clamber out of the fast-moving water. Never again will I underestimate the power of a river.

All set to float the river
Taken 7/25/09 at Johnsrud Park
Blackfoot River, Montana

Not that I should have. Like Maclean, I grew up in a parsonage. My father, like Maclean's, was a minister (Methodist, not Presbyterian) and a fly-fisherman who tied his own flies. Oh yes, Maclean's book spoke volumes to me. And the river that ran through my father's early life, if not my own, was the Ohio. I grew up with many stories about life on the Ohio, but the most vivid concerned my mother's younger brother, Virgil Stephens. In 1946, Virgil and two friends were canoeing on the Ohio and their canoe capsized. While his two friends clung to the overturned boat, Virgil swam for help and drowned. His two friends were saved. I can't tell you what a powerful story that is when you hear it over and over again at a young age.

He actually made two extra jumps just so I could catch him in the act
Taken 7/25/09 at Johnsrud Park, Blackfoot River, Montana

I've spent a good bit of time on rivers in my life. Those streams which speak most clearly to my soul are the Bitterroot, the Yellowstone, the Madison, the Missouri--all in Montana, the Sacramento and the Smith in California, the Columbia, the Ohio, and, yes, the Big Blackfoot. I've probably spent more time on the Blackfoot than any other river. I've navigated it in my canoe, run it in rafts, even sat in an inner tube and let it carry me downstream. My favorite sunbathing spot is at Red Rocks, approximately 25 miles east of Missoula, and seven miles of bad road off Montana highway 200. There's just nothing like a sunny day on the river.

"The Hub of Five Valleys" is one of the nicknames for Missoula. While number five is the home of Rattlesnake Creek, flowing south out of the Rattlesnake Wilderness Area, the other four valleys that come together at the basin which used to be the bottom of Glacial Lake Missoula are the Bitterroot, coming in from the south, the Upper Clark Fork flowing from the east, the Lower Clark Fork flowing toward the west where it eventually merges with the Columbia, and the Blackfoot which flows into the Upper Clark Fork just east of town. All these rivers have their charms and their dangers. And people being human, there's a lot of trash deposited along and in the rivers. Thanks to the efforts of one woman, Marietta Pfister, much of the Blackfoot's trash gets picked up every year.

Scuba Divers and their backup prepare to clean up the river
Taken 7/25/09, Johnsrud Park, Blackfoot River, Montana

On Saturday, July 25th, five members of Kevin's Ham Radio club worked to ensure the safety of the approximately 200 men, women and children who showed up to clean up the Blackfoot. I went along for the ride, and to record in pixels the important work being done. Of course I also recorded some of the fun on the river. 2009 marks the sixth consecutive year for the Blackfoot River Clean-Up, a community-based activity that brings together federal, state and local governmental units, as well as community organizations and the public. This year, ten sets of scuba divers cleaned the river bottom while scores of others walked the banks and waded the shore lines. What they found is nothing short of amazing, but, fortunately nothing near as bad as in the early years of the project. The story of the clean-up is being told in classrooms and community halls around the country, energizing others to take seriously their responsibility to care for the world around them.

Just a bit of the trash pulled from the river
Taken 7/25/09 on the Blackfoot River

If you'd care to read Norman Maclean's wonderful story, or see the movie version that Robert Redford made, you can get them through my Amazon.com affiliation by clicking on the boxes below.



Note that in Robert Redford's movie version, the part of the Blackfoot was played by the Yellowstone River south of Livingston, Montana (and the setting for several other Jimmy Buffett songs).



Or, maybe you just want a poster of Brad Pitt and a fish!