Father’s Day, 2018

Panorama of the Bitterroot Mountains

Taken approximately 1,000 feet above Lookout Pass

Montana/Idaho State Line

June 17th, 2018

Yesterday, in honor of Father's Day (or just to get out of the house), Kevin and I took a 200-mile drive around western Montana and northern Idaho. I say it was in honor of Father's Day because the standing joke in our family was that my father would drive to Powell (Wyoming) by way of Cody (Wyoming). For those of you who don't know this region, you can easily drive a pretty straight line from Billings, Montana to Powell, Wyoming, but Father would head west to Livingston, Montana, then south through Yellowstone Park, and finally east to Cody, eventually ending up in Powell. This turned an 88-mile drive into one covering 326 miles and taking at least 7 hours.

 The first of many tunnels

(Northern Pacific Railroad Grade)

Near Lookout Pass, Mineral County, Montana

June 17th, 2018

Honaker Creek

Mineral County, Montana

June 17th, 2018

A Honaker Creek Tributary

Near Bullion Pass, Mineral County, Montana

June 17th, 2018

 We started out yesterday driving to Thompson Falls, then climbed up Clarks Peak to check on Kevin's ham repeater station, then on across the mountains to DeBorgia, Montana where we caught the Interstate to head toward Lookout Pass on the Montana/Idaho border to check on some other radio transmission sites and where I picked up another geocache (with Kevin's help). While there, I noticed a road I didn't know that headed almost due south from I-90 to the Idaho line from a place noted on the map as "Tammany." I'm not sure what Tammany is or was, but it has no physical presence today and certainly no off-ramp from I-90. We drove the back way (part old US 10 and part old Northern Pacific right of way) to just east of the first rest area in Montana, and then back west to a point where the road made a 90 degree turn south and headed up the mountains along Honaker Creek. Again, for those who don't know this area, there is a locally well-known route across the mountains going from Taft (I-90 exit 5) up to the East Portal of the Hiawatha Trail, then over St. Paul Pass into Idaho, but the Honaker Creek road is roughly half-way between Taft and Lookout Pass. The Montana side was beautiful, and I got lots of photos of Honaker Creek and its tributaries. Then we came across something absolutely surreal. You all know those huge metal high-tension power "poles" that look like a giant metal man? Imagine coming up on one of those at the top, instead of seeing it from ground level. The thing is incredibly large at the "shoulders," and that's what you see as you approach the Idaho line on Honacker Creek Road. Of course, I had to take a picture, as well as another picture of the next "pole" (I don't know what else to call them) with swirling gray clouds behind it. It looked like a scene from a terrifying 1950s sci-fi movie. The aliens have landed and they're not happy.

 Man, those things are big when they're at eye level

Near Bullion Pass, Mineral County, Montana

June 17th, 2018

(Note the very dirty windshield)

Run, Run For Your Life!

Near Bullion Pass, Mineral County, Montana

June 17th, 2018

We crossed into Idaho and the road deteriorated drastically. On the Idaho side, the road is called the Bullion Creek Road, or Forest Road 507. We drove slowly down the mountain (maybe 5 mph), dodging rocks and in two places fording streams that had overflowed their banks and were in the process of washing away the road. By this time, the geocaching app on my cell phone had given up, showing us only a gray square where we should see roads--no cell service, don't ya know--and my Garmin Montana 650t was showing us lots of contour lines, but I had no sense of scale so I couldn't tell Kevin how much more of this torture we were due for.  25 miles isn't very far in today's world--but when you're driving at 5 miles per hour....

Southern End of Bullion Creek Road

Shoshone County, Idaho

June 17th, 2018

Eventually we came to a Yield sign nailed to the side of a tall pine (another photo op), and signs pointing north to Wallace, Idaho (17 miles) or south to Avery (11 miles). We turned south and soon found ourselves at a four-way junction with no direction signs that were at all helpful. (Yes, there were signs. No, none of them mentioned Avery at all.) Continuing on toward Pearson, the western terminus of the Hiawatha Trail, we soon found ourselves driving on the Milwaukee railbed for the ten miles from Pearson to Avery with only this "comforting" sign to guide us. "One lane road with passing points next 10 miles." What the sign didn't warn us was that the one lane road passed through several railroad tunnels, some of which were so long that you couldn’t see one end from the beginning. With no light at the end of the tunnel, it was quite possible to get caught inside a tunnel facing oncoming traffic and one or the other of you would have to back up. Fortunately, that did not happen. Not only did we drive through tunnels, but also crossed a couple of railroad trestles, including one across the North Fork of the St. Joe River. I will say this, as we were on a railroad bed, the grade was very gradual, and Idaho (or Shoshone County) has done an admirable job of keeping the road up. After almost 10 miles, we went around a bend and saw a garbage dump right on the side of the road. Strikingly ugly in an otherwise pristine landscape. Around the next bend we found Avery.

Back in the day, Avery was a bustling railroad town, the point where the Milwaukee switched from electric power used through the Rocky Mountains to coal or later diesel for the trek west toward Seattle, with a round house and all the accompanying shops.  Today, Avery is a wide spot on Forest Highway 50 populated mostly by vacationing families living in travel trailers or rental units.  The Avery Post Office is located in the old Milwaukee Depot and there is a gift shop and a convenience store that serves “fast food,” including deli sandwiches, hot dogs, burgers and even fish and chips if you’re brave enough.  I wasn’t, so we stuck to burgers (cheese burger for me) and fries.  The burgers were ok—better than a lot I’ve had, but the fries were terrific.  If you find yourself in Avery, you gotta try Scheffy’s.  Seriously, it’s the only place in town to eat.  The ONLY place in town.

The Kyle Tunnel (#33), Milwaukee Railroad Bed

Shoshone County, Idaho

June 17th, 2018

Forest Highway 50 is one of those roads to nowhere that makes no sense in today’s cost-conscious world.  Its western terminus is at Idaho Highway 3 just outside St. Maries in Benewah County, and its eastern terminus is the Montana state line 16 miles south of St. Regis.  In its 89-mile length, it passes through Calder (unincorporated) and Avery (also unincorporated) and nothing else.  Yet, for some unknown (to me) reason, it is a beautifully paved road, well maintained, that follows the St. Joe River and is now known as the St. Joe River Scenic Byway.    For my money, it’s one of the most beautiful drives in our part of the country and I highly recommend it.  This was Kevin’s first time on the road and he was suitably impressed.  Of course, when you reach the state line, the pavement ends and you have a dirt road most of the rest of the way to St. Regis.  I will say this, the dirt road was easily two lanes wide and very smooth.  The best dirt road we had today by a long shot.  By the time we hit the state line, it was getting late, and I took no more photos nor did we stop to find more geocaches as we were both ready to get home.  All in all a lovely day out in the beautiful Pacific Northwest.

The Saint Joe River

Shoshone County, Idaho

June 17th, 2018

A Dream

Looking at the clock when I awoke, I saw the numbers 4:5, but not the third number.  I'm guessing it was a 7 or an 8 because when I actually sat up the clock showed 5:01.  I had just come out of a dream that really spoke to me, and I hope will speak to you as well, so I'm recounting it here while I still remember it.

The dream began with a call from a close friend who was facing the task of cleaning up the kitchen after a gallery show somewhere.  I'm not sure if she was in an art museum or a sales gallery that had hosted an First Friday type event, but that wasn't important.  What was important is that the kitchen needed cleaning, specifically the oven where something had run over and burnt onto the floor of the unit. My friend, Cathy, was quite upset, and I did what I could to calm her, including taking apart the oven and letting the pieces soak overnight.  Everything would look better in the morning.

The next morning a group gathered at Cathy's house, men and women of roughly the same age, 25-30, some parents, some not.  We were standing around her kitchen counter and talking about the task at hand.  Somehow, in the manner of dreams, we no longer seemed to be as concerned with the cleaning of the kitchen and talk turned to introducing children to art.  Cathy had a medium sized screen with various images and e-books, and was going through them as she talked.  She opened one image, and quickly closed it back down.  I was standing across the counter from her, and noticed only the image of a Devil's Tower shaped formation, or possibly it was something from southern Utah or eastern Arizona--you know the type of red rock formation I'm talking about.

Watch for (Red) Rocks

Sedona, Arizona

Dec. 3rd, 2010

The picture was a cover photo of a book and there was text as well of which all I could read was the title, The West.   As I said above, Cathy had no sooner opened the image on the screen than she set it down.  I spoke up.  As we were talking about introducing children to art, and their reactions to that, I felt it important to point out that we needed to make sure that children understand that our words might not mean the same thing in different contexts.  As an example, I chose to talk about the meaning of "The West."  Mind you, I have no children, have never had children, and was very clear about that.  But inside my 25 year old head (and in my head and heart, I am 25--I have no idea who that 68 year old man is who looks back at me from the mirror), I could remember being a little boy, growing up in Montana.  And to this little boy, I pointed out, "The West" meant cowboys and indians.  What will a child think if we talk about the West, and instead of showing him action, we show him rocks?  The first example that came to my mind was a photo I took near Perma, Montana that I named "Iconic Montana."  It is a scene of a group of horses caught running across a hillside on the Flathead Indian Reservation.   It seemed to me, that as a young boy, this image would much more likely jump to the fore as an image of "The West."

Iconic Montana

Perma, Montana

April 15th, 2013

No cowboys or indians, but how can you have either without horses?  But not more than a couple miles away I had taken another picture that surely could be considered "iconic Montana."  This picture, captured just east of mile marker 102 on Montana Highway 200 shows the Flathead River in the foreground and the Mission Mountains, covered in snow in the back.  I grew up knowing that one of the nicknames for Montana is "The Land of Shining Mountains," and even before I knew that "Montana" is the Spanish word for mountain, I knew that the native people had used "shining mountains" to describe my homeland.  Still, it seemed to me that this image would appeal to adults more than to children.

The Flathead at Mile 102

Perma, Montana

April 22nd, 2017

Another image came to mind as we discussed the topic, one that I had captured roughly fifteen miles east of the first two.  This image, which I have named "Montana Amish," was taken at the Amish owned Mission General Store at St. Ignatius, Montana.  And while most people probably don't think of the Amish as typically Montana, a horse and buggy tied to a hitching rail, certainly conjures up life from the 1800s, doesn't it?  Couldn't this image as well signify "The West"?

Montana Amish

St. Ignatius, Montana

March 11th, 2014

As I thought about the three images, I suggested that, at least for a boy, the scene with the horses would probably come first, the buggy second, and the mountains third in any discussion of how do we envision "The West."  My guess is that a young girl would probably put things in the same order, while an adult might well choose the mountain image first.    I'm open to anyone trying to change my mind on that.

Just before I woke up, I thought of a fourth image (I'm ignoring Sedona for now).  One that I think would capture a young boy's imagination even more than the running horses.  Definitely a scene from "The West," this photograph screams, to me at least, "look where we are now!"  I took this photograph during the Homesteaders' Day parade in the small town of Hot Springs, Montana, in 2013. but I've seen the same parade entry in other years.  

The Modern Indian

Hot Springs, Montana

June 9th, 2013

Again, ignoring the original scene from Sedona, Arizona, the rest of the pictures were all taken within a 25 mile radius, all in Montana, all on the Flathead Indian Reservation, and, to my mind at least, all signify "The West."  And at that point, I awoke.