EcoRover

Skywatch Friday: Winter Cheer

2012-01-26T16:21:00.001-07:00

It's always clear and sunny here in southwest Montana except when it isn't. And that's mainly when you REALLY want it to be clear, as when the aurora borealis (aka "northern lights") was flaring up Tuesday. Oh, so it goes. We have had our share of bright winter weather with great views to the Highland Mountain range just south of Butte:

And some nice lensatic clouds that are especially striking in the clear morning sky (Snoopy?):

The Moulton moose has settled into its winter regime of browsing willows each morning:

I've settled into my winter regime of skiing the world-class classic trails just north of the city (ungroomed Buzzy has been especially nice with a little fresh snow every few days):

And MollyTheDog has settled into her winter regime of visiting her elk bone collection apres ski (check out those teeth):

Some so-called hunter dumped several elk and deer carcasses (along with assorted rubbish) in a vacant area along the Moulton Road. Though an offensive act, it has attracted well over 100 ravens along with this bald eagle (all hastily depart as you drive past):

Bald eagles are a common sight in the river bottoms (we saw 4 on a drive down to Missoula this week), but one seldom sees them in the forests high up along the Continental Divide. But, to have spotted these carcasses, they must regularly cruise around the upper valley of the Clark Fork River watershed. Or perhaps they follow the ravens?

Some years ago, Mrs Rover and I picked up a pair of vintage "Smirnoff Mule" (i.e. Moscow mule) cups at a yard sale. Though typically a hot weather drink, we've been starting our winter evenings with a mug of this classic '50s cocktail (don't forget the lime!):

Cheers!

Connectedness

2012-01-26T16:21:00.000-07:00

Having evaded the cell phone wave all these many years, in preparing for a semester in China I ran out of ever taller trees. Being out-of-touch while I was hanging out in the Pintler Wilderness, which we can see from our home, for a week was something Mrs Rover could abide (though not without a little grumbling). But 6,500 miles away for 5 months? OK: hello iPhone.

It's not like I'm a total Luddite. I joined the digital camera revolution 6 years ago, happy to be able to shoot hundreds of photographs on a single outing without feeling guilty about all those toxic chemicals going down the drain. The ability to crop, enhance, and electronically publish digital photographs has genuinely enhanced my life (and, I hope, the readers of this blog).

When daughter Emily bought me an iPod a few years ago, I was initially bemused. Oh, it was nice to plug into the car radio on long trips, but I wasn't going to become one of those insular people sporting ear buds... Well, my iPod -- loaded with podcasts from Hardcore History and This American Life, as well as 1,000 or so tunes ranging from Dylan to The Decemberists -- is now a frequent companion on my 1.5 mile walk to school and 2-hour morning skis. The inductive ear hooks are especially nice with my hearing aids--yet another electronic device that I depend upon.

Three years ago, I stumbled into an elk hidey hole like no other. Problem was, though in an area that I frequent 3 or 4 times each year, I was never able to find the place again. Problem solved: I now carry a GPS (courtesy of one of our local pawnshops). The machine has also proved invaluable for finding the most direct route to the truck or nearest trailhead when dark is coming on and I've got several miles to go and maybe a dead elk to come back for.

I do still have days when I bag a peak or go fishing without these tools (ah, except for the camera...):

Still, I think, where will it all end? Probably with me blogging about it.

SkywatchFriday: Winter Life

2012-01-19T15:46:00.000-07:00

Though us skiers would like a bit more snow, the weather has been gorgeous--lots of blue sky days whether as the waning moon sets over the cross country ski trails in the hills just north of Butte, Montana:

Or looking west to the mountain peaks of the Pintler Wilderness on my walk from Walkerville to my office at Montana Tech:

Critters in Winter
I love tracks and tracking. After spotting this pine marten track across a ski trail, I followed it as the as the marten wove its way through the pines searching for a not-too-wary (or quick) red squirrel (note the classic, paired, offset tracks of the weasel-family):

After cutting this red fox track on my walk to work:

I followed it across an open field until the fox came upon the tracks of a cottontail rabbit, which it then followed hoping for a meal:

Unlike the small-footed cottontail, our snowshoe hares are remarkable for their huge feet, which leave distinctive tracks and allow them to "float" and outrun predators (think of that small footed fox!) across soft snow:

Unlike these skittish, seldom-seen critters, the moose tend to be pretty calm this time of year. Sometimes you can ski past and they don't even look up:

Other times, though busy feeding,:

They do take notice and amble a bit deeper into the quaking aspen grove:

Cross Country Skiing

We are blessed with the classic ski trails at The Moulton just a few miles north of our little city. A few inches of fresh powder lured MollyTheDog and I out early one morning, seen here on the Double Jack run of the ungroomed Buzzy Trail (MTD doesn't slow down much for those turns!):

And after skiing, how nice to sit in the warm morning sun, beer in hand and cat on lap. Even with an air temperature in the teens (deg F), it's warm enough for a nap:

Life is good!

Skywatch Friday: Blue Sky, Snow Squalls

2012-01-12T13:00:00.005-07:00

The weather has been crazy thus far this winter with many days in the 40s deg F, about 15 degrees above our average. But then we'll have a cold snap, like this 0 deg F weekend morning with Mrs Rover, MollyTheDog and I on our habitual walk along the hill behind our home in Walkerville, Montana (I like the occasional excuse to don that boilerplate-heavy Woolrich coat I've had for 30+ years!):

The bright sun quickly reclaimed the frost laid down by the night air, and the shadow of a fence provides only fleeting protection as the sun arcs across the morning sky:

A full moon rising over the East Ridge of the Continental Divide called us out for a moonlight ski:

The following day our clear skies turned gray, and you could feel the coming change in the weather (skies seen here with a scenic outhouse at a nearby abandoned mine site):

Sure enough, snow squalls moved across the valley, and in minutes bright sun and clear blue sky could turn to stormy dark:

Here's a photo of another squall moving up the valley behind the Anaconda Smelter stack:

During a ski tour along trails near the Continental Divide at Mill Creek Pass, MollyTheDog and I were caught in a squall that dropped several inches of snow in just an hour. We ducked into the thick cover of some Douglass fir trees for a snack before heading back down the trails:

On a night when we aren't skiing by the light of the moon, we dropped by "Sparky's Garage"--a restaurant decorated with automotive memorabilia. I like the "Kendall" signs because I once worked at that oil refinery back in my hometown of Bradford, Pennsylvania:

Live music is another way to fill the long winter nights. The Hummingbird Cafe recently hosted my professorial colleague and musician friend Chad Okrusch:

Along with Tom Catmull, a musician from the downriver town of Missoula:

Outdoors or in, there's never a lack of enjoyable activities here in Butte America.

Montana Megafauna; A Hike in the Hills

2012-01-12T12:45:00.000-07:00

As much as I like Montana's seemingly endless 5-week+ hunting season (never mind the 6-week archery season that precedes it), I have some sense of sympathy for the animals. It must be nice when hunting season ends, the blaze orange horde returns to light beer and football on TV, and the critters can poke their nose out without somebody shooting at them. Folks who see wildlife primarily in National Parks (no hunting) or nature shows have no idea how cautious charismatic megafauna need to be with human predators around (and also of course wolves, mountain lions etc).

On a recent hike in the hills along the Big Hole River, friend Dave Carter & I (and dogs Molly & Jack of course) explored an abandoned phosphate mine where federal agencies have been working to close in the open shafts and collapsing tunnels. As we sat down for lunch, we were greeted by the sight of a Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep--a nearly full curl ram:

Though not too excited by our presence, he did keep a keen eye on us as he slowly grazed his way up and over the ridge:

This group of mule deer was considerably more cautious. Once they realized we were watching them bedded in the mountain mahogany along a ridge line, they stotted away (lower right in photo):

We continued our explore and came upon this interesting structure perched on the steep hillside near a convergence of mine tunnels. What could it be?

Let's peek inside... Oh, of course--an outhouse with a view!

We also searched around a nearby site where some old buildings had been razed. There wasn't much recognizable junk to be found, though this old can for "Pyrene" fire extinguisher fluid was interesting:

Construction activities to close the tunnels have exposed some interesting rock crystals:

On the hike out, MollyTheDog and her buddy Jack traded off carrying a nasty old deer leg:

My late friend George Grant often spoke of fishing at the "White Gates" in this area, and I think this might be the place he meant:

A creek flows under the railroad grade here. The old brick culvert was recently replaced by a more modern galvanized steel design. The river is gradually reclaiming the old red sandstone masonry, but for now enough remains for an interesting photo:

On the way out, Dave posed next to the old sign for the railroad siding (with some of the old mine buildings on the hillside above):

You would hardly know it is winter by the lack of snow in lower Big Hole River valley. On the hills above Butte, however, we are getting just enough snow to keep the cross country skiing good. The increasing snowpack is also driving the moose down from the higher elevations. MollyTheDog and I, on a dawn ski at The Moulton, came upon this yearling moose browsing a bit of sagebrush breakfast:

Once we passed and it scented (or heard) us, it ceased browsing and ambled deeper into deeper into the quaking aspens:

From the valley bottoms to the ridge tops, this is a great area to rove!

Skywatch Friday: Warm Winter Weather

2012-01-05T17:56:00.000-07:00

The holidays are past, the tree is down, and I've settled into a comfortable pattern of cross country skiing each morning before heading to college and working on my lectures for the upcoming semester in China. Our unseasonably warm weather continues here in southwest Montana--most days are running 10 to 15 deg F above average--daytime highs in the 40s! Global warming I guess. Remarkably, the snow pack up in the foothills (where the ski trails are) is holding on. And the sunsets continue to be absolutely stunning--is there a volcano erupting out in the Pacific to the west of us?

On the way home from a rare late afternoon ski yesterday, I had to pull over on The Moulton Road three times to take in the amazing sunset:

The colors and intensity just got better:

And better:

Until, finally, the light faded from the sky and I could get on home to supper:

On a suggestion from my old neighborhood friend Gary Robertson (oh the miracle of FaceBook!), I set my little Canon Elph camera to "cloudy" for photographing sunsets. It results in a color balance with boosted reds and violets--much closer to what my eye really sees. Thanks Gary!

Baker "Batavia Special": a classic American shotgun

2012-01-05T17:55:00.000-07:00

I recently made an inventory of my firearms and came across a nice old piece that I had almost forgotten about. It's a classic hammerless sidelock double barrel with solid steel (i.e. not Damascus) barrels made by the Baker Gun Company in upstate New York c. 1910:

The Batavia Special was a utility, base-priced model with no fancy engraving, yet still the craftsmanship was outstanding. This model sold for $21.75 in 1909 (Baker Gun web site)--a time when the average American earned about $14 per week (http://kclibrary.lonestar.edu/decade10.html):

Did some laborer or clerk plunk down two weeks wages for this treasure?:

Dad was a sucker for side-by-side double barrels, and picked up this gun c. 1970. The buttstock may be original with nice walnut and well-cut checkering, but the beavertail forend was probably a later addition. Dad shot some doubles trap with it. He had better shooting guns for this purpose, but liked the Baker I think because of the sense of nostalgia and history that it brought to the line.

Skywatch Friday: Montana Holiday Skies

2011-12-29T15:00:00.001-07:00

The holidays (and low southern sun angles with the solstice) have brought us some outstanding views here in the Big Sky State, especially as seen from my home in Walkerville (on the hill above Butte America). Whether looking east:

Or southwest into the fading light, it's been a real show:

Add to that the great feasts, like the Vigil (Christmas Eve) fest when Mrs Rover served her own version of Grandma Jean Vigliotti's "Feast of the Seven Fishes":

'Tis the season for entertainment, too--like taking in local favorite Mountain Moongrass folk group at the Silver Dollar Saloon:

And (to work off all this feasting), some epic cross country ski treks around the trails at The Moulton and Mill Creek Pass (aka "Mt Haggin") areas. Here's daughter Emily (accompanied by Bernardo, a local stray; sadly, MollyTheDog ripped her belly open on a barb wire fence and is recuperating) slipping out of her sweater for the long climb up the Little California Creek trail:

Near the top, we pause at the old Anaconda Copper Mining Company logging cabins for a few bites of mule deer jerky:

And to take in the nice views to Mt Haggin and other peaks of the Pintler Mountain range across the Deep Creek valley:

Soon, it's time to start the run down. Hmmm.... wonder why they call this part of the trail "Death Dip"?:

Oh, that's why! (nice snowplow technique):

OK, time to straighten those skis out and ZOOM:

One last stop to take in the view up to Spire Rock before we make for the truck:

Happy New Year, everyone!

Skywatch Friday: Happy Christmas from Montana

2011-12-23T16:06:00.000-07:00

Happy Solstice, Christmas, and Holidays to everyone!

Last night's sunset, looking southeast over Butte, Montana:

Christmas Tree 2011

2011-12-23T15:54:00.000-07:00

As is tradition, we waited until daughter Emily was home to go out into the hills and cut our Christmas tree. This year, we decided to cut a tree from the National Forest lands (don't forget your tree permit!) along the ski trails at The Moulton just north of town. Pulk (sled with tow bars)? Check. Cross country skis? Check. Saw? Check. MollyTheTreeTrackingDog? Check. OK, which way did it go? American Gothic, the tree cutting version:

Ah, here's a good one--an Engelmann Spruce, and not too far off the ski trail:

Jeez, I didn't think the hill was this steep up to the trail:

Load it on the pulk:

Now pull:

And pull some more. How far IS the truck? Hmm, it's really getting warm today. Jeez, this should be an Olympic event:

Truck at last:

Into the house and up. Ceiling? 9 feet. Tree? 9 feet. Perfect:

Decorated, all in the same day--a new family record!

Merry Christmas everyone!

"Bernard Dutka's Venison Roast"

2011-12-23T15:33:00.000-07:00

Bernie Dutka was a friend of Gramp's and he mentored me through my formative years as an angler and hunter. He also passed along an excellent Polish heritage recipe for roast venison--shown here for elk. I suppose you could use it for pork or beef too ;-)

1. Shoot one deer or elk.
2. In butchering, cut out one large rump roast.
3. Crush garlic cloves, mix with an equal amount of fresh, coarsely ground black pepper, and add enough olive oil to make a thick paste. It will take about 6 large garlic cloves for a 6 pound elk roast.
4. Use the end of a wooden spoon or a chopstick to stuff the mixture into each slot:

5. Use a syringe to inject red wine into each slot:

6. Rub any remaining mixture and wine over the surface of the roast. Cover and allow to marinade in a cool location for a day or two.
7. Heat oven to 450 deg F, roast uncovered for 15 minutes. Reduce oven to 250 deg F, cover (I like to use a roasting bag for larger roasts, and a Dutch Oven for smaller ones), and cook until done.
8. If desired, add parsnips, rutabagas, turnips, potatoes and other root crops when there is about 1.5-2 hours of cooking time remaining.
9. I like to stop when internal temperature reaches 130-135 def F ("rare"), which takes about 3.5 hours. Remove promptly from oven as meat will continue cooking for some time. Save the juices for au jus or gravy.
10. Slice:

11. Serve au jus (or use it to make gravy) with horseradish and enjoy! Leftovers make great sandwiches.

Skywatch Friday: Lunar Eclipse, X Ski, Hike

2011-12-15T17:42:00.000-07:00

It was a busy week in Butte America (southwest Montana), what with final exam week at my little college, a lunar eclipse, holiday parties, and a bit of skiing & hiking.

Lunar Eclipse
Last Friday evening a full moon rose over Rampart Mountain east of town:

I awoke early Saturday morning and climbed nearby Big Butte to meet some friends. While waiting, I caught this fuzzy picture (oh, the limitations of my Canon Elph point & shoot camera) of "Butte by night" showing several mining headframes (aka "gallows frames") lit up in red and a thick fog from the Berkeley Pit:

From about 6 to 7:30 a.m., the moon was gradually eclipsed by earth's shadow:

Here's a better photo by Karanel Dimmit (published on our local TV website):

After waking up early and standing around two hours in the cold, predawn darkness to watch the eclipse, a nap never felt so good!

Cross-country Skiing

The snow at The Moulton just north of my home in Walkerville is a little thin, so I made the long drive (30 miles!) over to the Mill Creek Pass (aka "Mt Haggin") trails. It's a scenic area, with great views of the ridges of the Pintler Wilderness Area:

Historic old cabins from when the Anaconda Copper Mining Company clearcut the area a century or so ago (shown with MollyTheDog):

And wildlife. Surprisingly, the elk are still hanging around, having not yet migrated to their winter range on Mount Fleecer. There are also year 'round residents like this pine marten, shown by its tracks crossing a ski trail:

They are the characteristic 2 front + 2 rear sideways loping tracks. In deeper snow, each pair (front & rear) of feet make a single track:

It's always nice to time a ski for a perfect sunset just as you reach the parking lot:

Hiking
The hills along the Jefferson River on the other side ("East Slope") of the Continental Divide just east of Butte are very dry and receive very little snow, so even in winter it's a good place to hike. Dave & I (with MollyTheDog and his dog Jack) found this new windmill installed by some rancher to pump water for cattle when they're on this summer range:

It's dry, open grassland/prairie country:

With some nice "badland" type erosion features:

Here's an interesting man-made feature, probably the pit or crater (lower right) was made by hydraulic mining (using water to blast away a hillside and wash out the placer gold):

Glad the semester is over--well, it will be once my grades are turned in next week. Then I can start packing for my spring semester teaching in China...

Skywatch Friday: Winter Weather

2011-12-09T17:02:00.000-07:00

We now have enough snow for cross country skiing on the trails at The Moulton just a few miles north of Butte (Montana) America. Here's MollyTheDog near the old horse barn at The Moulton parking lot, with a waxing moon rising in the eastern sky:

Earlier in the week, the cold -17 deg F morning air was evident by the extreme air inversion that lay over the Butte "flats" (i.e. the town below the Butte Hill):

The cold air brought a large flock (about 200 birds!) of Cedar Waxwings to our backyard, where they cleaned off the berries from our Mountain Ash trees in just minutes:

A view of the Pintler Range (taken from the "Mt Haggin" cross country ski area) shows snow blowing off the high peaks:

We don't spend all of our time outside here in southwest Montana. At my little college, PhD candidate Stacie Barry (I guess that's Doctor Barry now!) successfully defended her doctoral thesis, "COMING TO THE SURFACE: Environment, Health, and Culture in Butte, Montana:

One evening, we attended the American Civil Liberties Union gathering at Hotel Finlen, an opulent place recently renovated as a reminder of Butte's origins as America's "Copperopolis":

Hope my Northern Hemisphere friends enjoy these short days and the upcoming lunar eclipse!

Skywatch Friday: winter skies over Montana

2011-12-01T13:31:00.000-07:00

Though we're not quite at the Winter Solstice, the low sun angle, short days, and first sub-zero weather mark our transition from fall to winter here in Butte America. The season also brings spectacular skies, sometimes in the form of colorful sunrises with weird cloud formations:

Or sunrises with bizarre colors and cool clouds:

After a snowstorm passes through, it is usually followed by cold, clear skies--blue so bright it brings tears:

Sometimes, at sunset, the Butte valley is filled with a rosy light and super sharp views in the crisp air:

Like the light, our local ravens also take on a new nature for the season. A local mated pair commonly croaks outside my office window (and I croak back--they seem to like that), but on this day as I walked outside for a break one of them came down for a personal "Howdy":

Maybe it was the raven's way of thanking me for the pile of bones and other butchering "recycle material" in the back of my pickup?

Hunting Ends, Skiing Begins: life in southwest Montana

2011-12-01T13:09:00.000-07:00

[caution: dead critters ahead]

I thought hunting season had ended, but there were a few more days in celebration of friendship, family, and nature. I enjoyed a wonderful, long, strenuous day climbing a mountain in search of elk with my friend Matt and his partner Jennifer:

You know you are in elk cover when you see the 5-needled boughs of whitebark pine:

As we reached the ridge top, the sky cleared, and the climb was totally worth it elk or no:

When Emily was home with her partner Evan over the holiday, we went out for just one more deer--most of which went into a huge batch jerky. As always, we promised the mulie doe that we would honor her spirit and use her flesh well. Here are Evan and Emily, skinning the deer (its hide will be used for buckskin gloves for the two of them):

My friend Frank still had a "Deer A" tag, so went out one morning (home by 11). Frank & Hwe will honor his spirit and use his flesh well:

Just in time for Emily & Evan's visit, we picked up enough snow for good skiing on the cross country trails near Mill Creek Pass (aka "Mt Haggin"):

The St Bernard from a nearby lodge joined us for free--but you have to supply your own brandy for him to carry:

Happy Winter, Everyone!

Skywatch Friday: Big Sky Montana indeed

2011-11-18T14:23:00.000-07:00

A few pics from the season's adventures for my non-hunting friends who wouldn't like the dead-animal pics on the next post.

Prairie bench country along the Madison River "(buffalo jump, where First Peoples ran bison over the cliffs), where the land meets the sky:

A ranch along the Big Hole River, ready for feeding cattle through the long winter with those many bales of hay:

A view of the Boulder Batholith (white granite outcrops) just south of Butte Montana:

And skies clearing over Big Butte (view from my home in Walkerville):

We've picked up a good bit of snow since these photos were taken, but the snow pics can wait until next week. Happy Evacuation Day and Thanksgiving to my American friends and readers!

Friendship, Hunting, and Knowing Nature: Elk, Mule Deer, Pronghorn Antelope, and White-tailed Deer in the Big Hole Country of SW Montana

2011-11-17T13:48:00.000-07:00

[Warning: photos of dead animals ahead.]

Gathering and hunting (and scavenging) go back a long way in human evolution. The desire to roam the prairie, forests, and mountains in search of food is in our bones. It is also a deeply spiritual way of knowing nature--an important aspect of human fulfillment whether we are the Ju/'hoansi [!Kung] of the Kalahari, contemporary Americans on the North American continent, or the fictional Na'vi people of the planet Pandora. ( Ju/'hoansi photo below from http://www.discoverimages.com/ )

These activities are also a social practice--a way of bonding with other people and of affirming the values we believe important to our tribe. When a small group of Ju/'hoansi drive a pride of lions from their kill in order to scavenge a share of meat, they affirm group solidarity as well as an ancient relationship with other, larger predators. When a Na'vi woman leads a child (or an alien Avatar) to observe the affection between a fierce predator mother and her offspring, she is teaching the child to understand the close parallel between non-human and human animals. (Na'vi photo below from http://avatarmovieclub.com/ ):

In past years I've sometimes come to think of hunting as a solitary activity, an intensely spiritual quest where I could pass hours in walking meditation without ascribing words to what I saw, heard, smelled, felt, or otherwise sensed. Our culture is crammed with spoken and written information, and the inability to turn that off for awhile results in a sort of logocentric insanity. Meditative practices such as hunting or other engagement with non-human nature will help keep you sane. And there's nothing like a hot cup of tea in mountain solitude:

This year's hunting has been a lesson in social collaboration, a reminder of how we nurture the human bond through engagement with nature. While I still cherish days alone atop a mountain, huddled over a little fire waiting for my cup of tea before taking up the sweet, musky trail of an elk, this year fed the social dimensions of my human animal.

Don and I met at a new graduate student reception at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute in 1978. Presented with apples, we each pulled a jackknife from the back pocket of our Levis and cut our apples into slices as well-bred, tool-using human animals will. We embodied a common set of rural northeastern U.S. values that included shooting ruffed grouse on the wing and sharing those delectable treasures with family and friends. This year Don applied for and received from the State of Montana a doe mule deer and a doe pronghorn antelope permit and so come the first week of November we hunted in a few places along the Big Hole River near Butte, my home for the past 20+ years:

Hunting mule deer is not difficult if you have studied their habits, know a place with a good population that is relatively undisturbed (i.e. out of sight from roads and relatively inaccessible), and are a well-practiced marksman who can shoot confidently at ranges of 200 to 300 yards. While there are people who drive around and shoot mule deer from their truck, this sort of killing should not be confused with hunting. Deer tend to be predictable animals, and on this particular day they were feeding at their accustomed place on a slope thick with mountain mahogany. The wind was in our face as Don belly-crawled through the cactus strewn sagebrush to get within range for a sure, clean kill:

We will honor your spirit and use your flesh well.

My young friend AJ, now a student with the University of Montana at Missoula -- 120 miles downstream of Butte -- also drew a mule deer doe tag and joined me for a hunt. I taught AJ about hunting and shooting years ago, and he's matured into an ethical, sharp-eyed hunter. He had just a few hours free and so we hunted early, he killed a deer at first light and dragged it back to the truck by 10 a.m., and we had it cut & wrapped and in the freezer by 2 p.m.--ready for his bus trip back to college later that day:

We will honor your spirit and use your flesh well.

Pronghorn antelope are, to put it mildly, not so predictable as deer. They range widely over high desert prairie that at first glance looks as if it doesn't have enough vegetation to support a mouse. Fleet feet carry them a mile or more away in less than two minutes at the first sign of danger. Once aware of the danger from hunters, they have a knack for seeking out rugged corners of the breaks along the river. These areas cannot be seen from any road, so you need to hike into them, taking care to keep the wind in your face and use the terrain in ways that allow you to spot the antelope before they see you. Oftentimes, you hike into a hidden area only to find neither hide nor hair of an antelope. My friend Dave Carter, a now-retired professor who showed me the lay of the land when I first came to Montana in March of 1990, reads terrain like the former Army infantry officer that he is. Though Dave no longer hunts, he does hike the hills with me, encouraging me to hunt places where I have to pack a dead antelope a mile or more back to the truck. Thanks Dave:

We will honor your spirit and use your flesh well.

Here's a pic of Dave on an elk hunt with me this year--note how he is leaning into that 40+ mph wind!:

Hunting is a legacy passed on from human-to-human over the past 10,000 or so generations. I have tried to insure that a few younger others will carry on what Dave and I learned about pronghorn antelope in our years of hunting together. Matt Hamon taught in my department some years ago and is now at the "mother ship"--the University of Montana in Missoula. He came into the Big Hole country to camp a night or two, and kindly let me know so I could share a hunt with him. Though we did a lot of spot and stalk -- some from high spots that we could drive to and some via a good hike -- we never came within range of a pronghorn:

Happy to say, though, that a few wandered past Matt's camp after I left that afternoon, and come that night he was enjoying antelope steaks. Also while hunting with Matt, we came upon this nice herd of prairie elk--it's the kind of thing you file away since elk season did not open for two weeks (note bull in center--you'll see him again later):

Sure enough, during Don's visit and while antelope hunting, we cut elk tracks in a dusting of fresh snow. We followed them for a half-mile or so and also cut the tracks of a large herd of pronghorns and a gang of mule deer--all, apparently, headed the same direction. Alas two other eager hunters dove in ahead of us. "No matter," I muttered, "I think I know where they're going." And so we drove around, parked near what I believe is an old caldera, and began a spot-and-stalk hike. Sure enough, in a steep coulee running from a cinder cone on edge of the caldera, we found the antelope herd, waited for what seemed forever as they fed away from us and then back into range, and Don touched off an excellent shot:

We will honor your spirit and use your flesh well. And then the work began. It was a long, steep hike for Don to pack the antelope a mile back to the truck, a big workout for his lungs at this mile-high altitude. The cinder cone in the above photo marked our destination, plus another quarter-mile or so to the truck.

Once atop the caldera, we looked back in our tracks to see three mule deer does--no doubt authors of the tracks we had seen earlier. Hoping that a mulie buck might be following, we watched and waited. Sure enough, antler tines appeared over the edge, followed by a critter I now felt familiar with--having seen him two weeks prior and his tracks earlier that day:

We will honor your spirit and use your flesh well.

I remember well each one of the 20 or so elk I have killed since coming to Montana. But this one will be particularly special given Don's good companionship, the long day and effort that went into the hunt, and the combined success on both antelope and elk:

Season ended (at least for now--daughter Emily might want to join me for a deer hunt over the Thanksgiving holiday) on an evening white-tailed deer hunt with my friend and colleague Frank Ackerman. A retired Bell Labs scientist and now a computer science prof at Montana Tech, Frank took up hunting just a few years ago and has come to appreciate patience, feeling at home in nature, excellent marksmanship, and yummy venison:

We will honor your spirit and use your flesh well.

Back at home, MollyTheDog greets me when I return from hunting. She likes to demonstrate that she, too, is a great hunter of big game such as moose:

She also deeply appreciates the gift of the land--in this case the bones from the bull elk's hindquarter:

We've picked up a few inches of snow in town over the past week, and a little more snow at elevation. Good thing: meat's in the freezer, let's go skiin'!

SkyWatchFriday: Things to do in October

2011-10-14T15:01:00.000-06:00

Things to do in October, in and around Butte America (southwest Montana).

Feel the Earth tilt away from the sun: the Beauty of Early Snow
The snowline begins high up on the ridges of the Continental Divide that ring our little city. Here, on the Highland Mountains:

Or, seen a recent hunt in the sagebrush hills of the Big Hole River area, high on the ridges of the Pioneer Mountains:

Soon, the snowline is below 8,000 feet on the East Ridge:

Soon it will be in our front yard!

Feel the Earth turn on its axis: Sunrise, Sunset
The sky glows in the pre-dawn:

And, while hiking back to the truck after a late afternoon hunt, the full moon rises over the sagebrush hills:

Hunting Scenes: Hunting is about more than filling the freezer with meat
I've seen and heard several rattlesnakes over the course of the year. Usually, they slither under a rock or into thick sagebrush before I can even pull my camera out. Walking along a rocky ridge in the late afternoon, with the air temperature c. 50 deg F, I thought it was too cold for snakes to be active. But a flash of color at my feet followed by a buzzing rattle proved me wrong. Though the Old One was safe in its den, I could see enough "skin" for this photo:

Near the rattler, I came upon this interesting monument--perhaps a cairn built by some Basque sheepherder a hundred years ago. Or maybe it marked the place where he was struck by a rattlesnake:

If the hunting is slow, there are often interesting rock formations:

Water is scarce on the high desert. Groves of aspen are a sign of moisture:

Let's hike over that way. Sure enough, local ranchers have corralled some of that water in stock tanks for cattle (and also as a benefit to the wild critters):

A river does run through it--the Big Hole River, fed by high-country snow melt, lined with cottonwood trees and ranchers' hayfields:

My view was from atop these sloping cliffs:

Just downriver I could see Browne's Bridge, the historic first commercial crossing, originally a wood structure but replaced in the early 20th century with this marvelous iron truss bridge:

While hunting pronghorn antelope with my friend Matt Hamon, this herd of elk (bull w/ cows) rose up from "nowhere", watched us awhile, and left us wondering how elk could hide in the wide-open landscape:

Of course, while hunting elk, I have seen relatively few--and none were standing & looking back at me! Most often, I see elk "sign", such as these fresh droppings (we tell novice hunters, "You can tell how fresh they are by tasting them".):

Each year, deer and elk grow a new set of antlers in the spring and shed them in winter. In forested areas, mice and other rodents usually make quick work of shed antlers. On the dry prairie, however, they last much longer. I like to photograph them and leave them for the critters. Here's a shed from a young bull elk, a "spike":

And several more from young, fork-horned mule deer bucks:

When I come home from hunting, MollyTheDog always brings her moose, shaking it & growling, then setting it at my feet. What's worse than a dog that gloats? (She learned the name of this toy the first time Jan told her--probably because it looks like the real moose skull that decorates our parlor, and she has that Border Collie affinity for language.):

Visit Yellowstone National Park
We try to make a visit each year in early October. The crowds have thinned out, critters are in rut, and the wolves are active. On this trip we saw black bears and a grizzly (too far for photos) but alas no wolves. We did of course see lots of hoofed browsers, especially buffalo:

Buffalo, like much of the YNP experience, help us to slow down and be in the moment. Sometimes the buffalo do this forcefully--I think this herd was part of the "Occupy Yellowstone" movement:

Unlike the elk I hunt, those in the Park are habituated to humans. They're still "wild", they just don't see humans as predators. They were most common around the Mammoth Park Headquarters, probably because they are fairly safe from wolves there:

This young elk bull was all alone, probably driven off by a dominant herd bull. Note how his antlers and tawny hide blend into the sagebrush and dry grass:

Maybe we should introduce him to this elk cow and her two calves (one might be a yearling, her calf from 1&1/2 years ago). She seems lonely:

This raven seemed lonely too. Or, more likely, spotted as a "soft touch" for a handout:

YNP was originally set aside in 1872 as a "pleasuring ground" primarily for its geological wonders. Only later did Americans come to appreciate and enjoy wildlife watching. Each visit, we are awed by the geology of the Mammoth area, including the terraces:

Strange colors & textures:

Basalt columns along the Gardner River (aka "Sheepeater Cliffs"):

And waterfalls (Tower Falls shown here):

What's this I see through the steam rising from a hot spring along the Gardner River?:

Of course, it's the "Boiling River"--a must stop for a good, relaxing soak at the end of a happy day:

Happy Autumn! (and for our friends in the southern hemisphere, Happy Spring!)

SkyWatchFriday: Rocky Mtn Autumn, Butte Scenes

2011-10-06T15:29:00.000-06:00

One day, afternoon temps were in the 80s. The next day fall came, and now it's light rain, highs in the 50s, and snow predicted by the weekend. Ah, but a lovely time of year with stormy mountain sunrises:

And nice sunsets as seen from uptown Butte America:

Fall colors are looking good, with most of the aspen groves well into the change:

And the ground glowing red with the bright leaves of Grouse Whortleberry:

Bull elk are beginning to whistle (aka "bugle") and rub their antlers on trees to lose the velvet:

Back in town, we now enjoy the new and improved (lots roomier) Quarry Brew Pub (with Vince at the taps):

Chuck & Lyza have plans for a restaurant and apartments on the spacious upper floors. Love that fire escape:

After beers, it's time for supper. Last week we visited an old Butte standby, the Pekin Noodle Parlor:

Lit up with a cheery neon sign:

The Pekin proudly proclaims its history:

And check out the cool, curtained private dining rooms. Given the population of Butte c. 1911 (lots of miners & prostitutes) you have to wonder what those rooms have seen:

As the expression goes, "Tap 'er light!"*

* derived from the need to tamp blasting powder into a shot hole at a stope face in a mine; adapted to mean "Take it easy".

Clear Skies, Searching for Water (SkyWatch Friday)

2011-10-01T21:09:00.000-06:00

A few cool, rainy days took care of our smoky skies here in SW Montana. The rains did not extinguish the forest fires, but made them "lay down". Soon enough, snow will truly put them to rest. I've been roaming the hills with a bow, for which "elk hunting" serves as a reasonable excuse to visit pretty places:

And watch the sun set as I sit out on a forlorn ridge until it grows dark, then hike two miles back/1,000 feet down to the truck (by headlamp), hoping I don't step on one of those rattlesnakes I heard buzz in the sagebrush on the way up:

Hmmm... deer or elk antler? It looks like a white-tailed buck's shed, but that would be rare in this mule deer country. The mice have reclaimed most of it:

Using binoculars from the ridge, I spied a likely place below tree-line where the critters might find water on this high desert--a little closer than the creek near where I parked. A few days later, I hiked back to check this place out. It's a natural spring, and the rancher who holds grazing rights on this public BLM land has fenced it to keep cattle out & to collect the water:

The captured water then flows through a buried pipe to a stock-watering tank. Unfortunately, the hoped for pool of water was not to be found in the bone-dry stock tank:

However the water did find its way to the surface in a nearby seep. Judging from the tracks, it seems to be well used by the bighorn sheep, pronghorn antelope, mule deer, and -- yes -- elk that live here:

Most of the bighorn sheep died off here a decade ago thanks to pneumonia transmitted by domestic sheep. So I was happy to see that, at least on this corner of the high prairie, they seem to be doing OK as these eight ewes & lambs will attest:

Every wild sheep family seems to consist of ewes, kids, and at least one wildlife biologist. Several of the animals in this herd word tracking collars so the biologists can find them:

Oh yes, where the deer and the antelope play. No far from where I parked along a creek was this group of "speedgoats":

We are blessed with abundant public land here in Montana:

Sometimes, I think people try to discourage others from using "their" spot, as with this old home-scrawled sign on a distant ridge that is, according to my map, public land:

A friend and outdoor writer, Bill Watt was here for a new magazine piece he's working on and provided a good excuse to take a day off for some fishing (weather has been too warm for good elk hunting anyway). Here's Bill on the Big Hole River, releasing one of several fluvial Arctic grayling we caught:

Despite what Mrs Rover might tell you, I do more than hunt and fish (and work). Fridays, at least, are set aside for social time at the Quarry Brew Pub. They're moving to a bigger & better location, so we gathered with friends to say good bye to the old place:

Lyza Schnabel (she and her brewer husband Chuck own the place) worked the taps:

And we became part of the "spill over" crowd on the front sidewalk (Butte America has no "open container law"):

Quarry closed, the following Friday found us at Julian's Piano Bar. Wonder of wonders, it's an iron-framed building (built as a 1-story structure in 1900, upper floors added c. 1910):

You can tell it's an iron frame by knocking on the prominent supports. That or by reading the label on one of them:

Weather continues unseasonably warm most days (highs in the 80s) with the occasional cool day slipped in just to keep us on our toes (with jackets handy). Some morning, though, we'll wake to see snow on the ridges that surround town. As a hunter, I'm ready for the changing of the season, but these warm late summer-like days are sweet.

Skywatch Friday: like a house a'fire, summer is ending

2011-09-16T14:41:00.000-06:00

Summer is at and end with the first heavy frosts gracing the hills of the Continental Divide ringing Butte, Montana. Large forest fires are burning throughout the northwest United States. Though the heavy smoke obscurs our view of the mountains (visibility is usually 60 miles or so), it makes for outstanding sunsets (view from Montana Tech):

On a recent trip to the Portland, Oregon, area for a wedding, we began our visit on the deck of a the Mount Hood Winery:

And watched as the fire on Mt. Hood went from "laying low:"

To a major "blow up:"

Fires and all, the Columbia Valley is a lush place with abundant wild fruit, like these blackberries:

And lots of excellent farm stands with yummy fresh produce:

No trip to the Portland area is complete without visiting a few of the many wonderful brewpubs. We took in music (and a few pints) at the Double Mountain Brewpub:

Samplers and pints at the Coalition Brew Pub (a true 10-barrel microbrewery with OUTSTANDING English-style ales):

And even a visit to the McDonald's or Starbucks of beer, one of the many McMenamins locations--the former Kennedy School, with its movie theatre, several restaurants and bars--including a bar with a "steam punk" theme:

We worked off the brewpub visits with activities such as a hike up Beacon Rock:

Get a load of those walkways bolted into the cliff face! (looking up):

(and down):

A visit to just one of Portland's several incredible, sprawling Rose Gardens:

As always, walking around Portland delivers architectural delights, ranging from this quonset-hut house:

To the fantastic architecture of this building supply store:

Oh yeah, we were there for a wedding, and that was great fun too. How can you not have a wonderful time when the wedding begins with the arrival of the bridal party in "pedicabs?":

Back at home, fires around East Missoula and Phillipsburg are still mostly out of control with tens of thousands of acres ablaze (see Montana Forest Fires):

Still, as with our visit to Portland, we're not letting our summer fun go up in smoke. This past weekend marked the Boulder Music & Art Festival -- a fun, low key event with good local music including Mariah Paige (she did a knockout version of Miranda Lambert's "Famous in a Small Town"):

And our favorite--little yodelin', fiddlin' sensation Bridget Reedy (with her Dad accompanying on guitar):

Summer is nearly gone, but we are enjoying those last few sweet drops.

Skywatch Friday: Rainbows, Forest Fires and Happy Campers

2011-08-27T11:30:00.000-06:00

College classes began this week, with all the usual hectic craziness. On an early morning drive downriver to the "mother ship" campus (University of Montana-Missoula), this double rainbow appeared as we drove out of a rainstorm:

We also saw the reason for the smoky skies in Butte this week--forest fires in the East Missoula area (here, a "spot fire" near the highway):

Last weekend marked the Annual Dr. Anaconda Lake Rendezvous, the last major campout of the season. Jim Handley redefined the term "happy campers" by grill roasting a turkey for the Saturday feast:

Geez, how do you follow that act? Andrea Stierle managed to find a way with this fantastic desert:

For many of us, the Annual Rendezvous is defined by hanging out at Montana's finest sandy beach. Kenia and Adler Patch entertained the Schahczenski dogs with kayak rides on the lake:

I like waking in the early morning chill, taking in the quiet forest and the mist rising from the creek behind our tent:

Soon the camp stirs to life. Hwe Tu and Frank Ackerman demonstrate their coffee making skills--Hwe on the chopsticks strategically placing embers under the coffee pot and Frank supplying kindling of just the right size:

One night, Brent Patch, his kids, and I bivouacked on a sandy point across the lake. They were in a tent, but I spent the night under the stars, drifting off to sleep with meteors flaming overhead and only a few distant worries about that bear sign I'd seen in the forest behind our little camp:

Last year, camping in the snow, three days seemed to go on forever. With this year's perfect weather, the weekend ended all too soon as we closed it out with the group photo (left-to-right: Don Stierle, Chukah-The-Dog, Kenia Patch, Brent Patch, Adler Patch, Andrea Stierle, Jeff Schahczenski, Celia Schahczenski, Woo-The-Dog, Donna Patch, Karina Patch, Jan Munday, MollyTheDog, EcoRover, and Sheikah-The-Dog (missing from all photos are hikers extraordinaire Debbie & Mike Stickney and daytrippers Lori Shyba, David Bunnell and Bill Macgregor):

This week's classes and start-up activities were a blur, but the end of the week brought the annual Clark Fork Watershed Education Program's celebration. The event included great music by Chad Okrusch followed by El Dealbreakers. How can you not smile when the band includes Garrett Smith on the tuba?:

A good week.

Skywatch Friday: A Full Moon Sets Over Montana

2011-08-19T13:22:00.000-06:00

It's been a sunny, blue-sky week here in southwest Montana. Many days there's not a single cloud all day.

Last weekend found us camped along the Madison River, watching the full moon set as the morning sun rose:

An osprey fished in front of our campsite; this one is carrying a fish:

We did not fish, but took in the festivities at Virginia City (a "frontier-era" tourist town) with friends Jeff & Celia Schahczenski, and made a fun kayak float on the river:

And of course we took in the soothing waters of Norris Hot Springs (and enjoyed their lovely hollyhocks):

The dogs waited patiently in a shady spot while we ate brunch and soaked:

Closer to home, Dave Carter and I got out in the Big Hole River country. Hmmm, why are the vultures circling?:

Oh, it's a dead (and very stinky) cow in the meadow:

While we checked out the cow, the turkey buzzards swooped in low over our heads:

On the high prairie of the upper Big Hole River valley, herds of watchful antelope played:

And, up at timberline, this young bull moose played peek-a-boo with us (I like the way moose think they are hidden while standing behind a little tree):

Look at these Big Hole haystacks--a bountiful harvest for the ranchers that need to feed cattle through the long Montana winter:

Note that these are true haystacks, not bales; made with a "beaverslide" (a ramp for stacking hay in a wind- and water- resistant pile; the cleat-track is for dragging the beaverslide from place to place):

And check out the cool, custom-made "buck rake" for pushing the hay to the base of the slide:

We are nearing summer's end, and as fall approaches we intend to milk every last drop of this sweet weather.

Native Trout Revival: Westslope Cutthroat Trout, Silver Bow Creek, and Superfund

2011-08-17T17:56:00.000-06:00

When I have a good day fishing, I recall the wise words of Butte conservationist George F. Grant: we don't catch wild fish because we are so clever--after all, how smart do you have to be to fool a creature with a brain the size of a pea? No, we catch trout because they are there. And usually, in the modern world, they're there because of people who have helped to restore and protect them.

Well, I had a good morning on Silver Bow Creek just a few miles downstream from my home, catching wild, native Westslope Cutthroat Trout--many (like this one) fat & well over a foot long:

If you imagined a perfect small trout stream (average flow c. 20 cfs), it would look a lot like this Durant Canyon reach of the creek:

And even better, there were riseforms of large trout slurping caddis flies and spruce moths:

For more than a century, there were no trout. Just a few years ago, Silver Bow Creek (at the headwaters of the Clark Fork River in southwest Montana) was still a lifeless, industrial sewer (NRDP photo):

Superfund changed that, and it's a great success story. The success came in two parts--remedy (i.e. clean-up) and restoration. On the remedy side, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency mandated that the party responsible for a century of mining and smelting pollution -- Arco-British Petroleum -- clean up its mess. On the restoration side, the State of Montana settled for several hundred million dollars in a natural resource damage lawsuit against Arco-BP.

In a unique approach that integrated remedy and restoration, the state took the lead in an $80 million project that included additional funds for enhancements such as restoration work in German Gulch Creek--a major tributary of Silver Bow Creek.

When Montana's Natural Resource Damage Program began developing a restoration vision for Silver Bow Creek, the program was very hesitant to us native trout as a restoration goal. Many thought the creek could never sustain native cutthroats, and even optimists like me thought it would take decades. It was a hard struggle, but thanks to the support of many good people and organizations (see list below), it came together and in a series of meetings in 1997 both the NRDP and Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks agreed to embrace the goal of native fish. A big thank you from your most important client:

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Folks who deserve special credit, in no particular order:

George F. Grant (1906-2008). George established Montana's first chapter of Trout Unlimited in 1972. He began campaigning to halt mine waste pollution of the Clark Fork River by the mid-1970s.

Board members of the George Grant Chapter of Trout Unlimited. They attended a lot of meetings and wrote a lot of letters in support of Silver Bow Creek restoration, and also directed a $1 million restoration project on German Gulch.

Montana Trout Unlimited, particularly its Executive Director, Bruce Farling.

Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks fisheries biologists Wayne Hadley (retired) and Ron Spoon. After those 1997 meetings, Ron began collecting data on westslope cutthroat trout in German Gulch and was especially influential in convincing the NRDP that native fish restoration in Silver Bow Creek was a reasonable goal. Jason Lindstrom, along with his excellent field technician (and gifted cabinet maker) Ben Whiteford, are keeping Ron's commitment alive.

Board members of the EPA-funded citizens' group, Citizens Technical Environmental Committee--former officers George Waring, Mary Kay Craig, and John W. Ray were particularly effective leaders.

Montana Department of Environmental Quality project director for Silver Bow Creek, Joel Chavez. Also, the revegetation contractor for the project, Rich Prodgers.

My apologies to those I have inadvertently omitted from this short list of environmental heroes.

SkyWatch Friday: anti-crepuscular rays, storm clouds, rainbows

2011-08-11T15:12:00.000-06:00

Here in the clear mountain air of southwest Montana, crepuscular rays are fairly common--good old sun rays like those common most everywhere:

But we also see anticrepuscular rays fairly often (usually at sunset), rays that stream away from the sun and seem to converge on an infinitely distant horizon point:

The past week has also brought incredible sunsets (maybe there are forest fires west of us?):

Even looking east is colorful most nights:

And there are lots of great clouds beginning with the cumulus that puff up in mid- to late-afternoon:

Leading to evening thunderstorms:

And of course to rainbows (this is a double arc, albeit the higher one if faint):

August in Butte Montana: it's not heaven, but you can see it from here.

Big Hole River Trout Fishing: red hot on dry flies

2011-08-11T14:54:00.001-06:00

I like to fly fish and do it often around my home in southwest Montana. From ice-out in March on the Jefferson River, to brook trout creeks in May, to halcyon dry fly August days on the Big Hole River--it's all good. Probably if you asked me at any moment while fishing, I'd tell you that NOW is the very best time to be casting a fly upon the water. The past few mornings on the canyon reach of the Big Hole River have been incredible: from 9 a.m. to noon, the trout are looking up (i.e. taking dry flies).

Brown trout like this are taking spruce moths and large fluttering caddis. Size 10-12 Elk Hair Caddis or Stimulators will do the job:

Rainbow trout tend not to be so selective, feeding on the smaller caddis (I like #16 or even 18 Goddards) as well as larger bugs. Also, as the sun gets high and the brown trout action tapers off, the (generally smaller) rainbows still feed greedily:

I'm the first to recognize it and my fishing friends will attest to the fact that I am a mediocre caster. I overcome this, in part, by using a leader of 11+ feet including a 5X or even 6X tippet of 2 feet or so--this allows for lots of slack near the fly, and hence a more drag-free drift of the fly. Keeping hooks VERY sharp (I carry a little diamond stick) also helps make your fly "sticky."

While fishing, be sure to look up once in awhile. Otters, mink, beaver, and other wildlife such as pronghorn antelope and mule deer are common where I fish. Here's a mulie fawn with ears nearly as big as it is:

And here's a herd of pronghorn does and fawn feeding in a hayfield near the river:

Sadly, MollyTheDog is out of action for a few weeks when it comes to fishing or hiking. She cut her foot badly while running behind our house--requiring stitches and a cumbersome bandage. Sad puppy:

Tight Lines!

-----------------
Like any river, if you're new to the Big Hole you probably need some guidance. Stop in and see Al Lefor at Great Divide Outfitters near "Silver Bridge"--he'll have the flies & advice you need, and offers guiding service too.
871 Pumphouse Road
Divide, MT 59727
Phone: 406-267-3346

Pioneer Mountains of Montana--A Hike and a Bear, oh my...

2011-08-05T16:18:00.000-06:00

My retired friends Dave Carter and Leroy Friel kindly let me tag along on a hike in the Pioneer Mountain Range, an hour or so south of our home in Butte, Montana. Leroy, who taught engineering at Montana Tech for many years, is now working on a book about the Pioneers. On our way back, we saw this rangy yearling black bear (maybe lost his Mama?):

To get back to the beginning, here we are setting out through a horse gate at the trailhead:

There are, of course, lots of mining ruins in the area. The hills of southwest Montana were much more populated a century ago than they are today:

We hiked up to a chain of small lakes such as this one:

And continued on up to a ridge with a view of more (and larger) lakes below (and below the lakes lies the town of Polaris):

The area has lots of Rocky Mountain Goats as evidenced by much shed hair in the meadows:

As well as fresh tracks (note they are much blockier than the heart-shaped tracks of deer):

In a meadow along the scree at the head of a small lake, we stumbled upon this lovely spring-fed pool:

In the woods, parks, and meadows, wildflowers are at their prime:

I seldom hike in the Pioneers, having abandoned the area a decade or more ago when it was being over-run by rogue ATV ("four wheeler") riders tearing up the landscape. The Forest Service has been gaining some control over the motorized users of late and we saw few signs of use in off-trail areas. Though only 50 miles as the raven flies from where the Pintler Range that I frequent, the Pioneers have a somewhat different floral community. Leroy was an excellent guide and helped me realize that the popular wildflower identification guides I use denote only a fraction of the diverse species in our mountains. A few new-to-me species included Tweedy Snowlover (Chionophila tweedyi), a penstemon:

Cusick's Speedwell (Veronica cusickii):

Red-stemmed Saxifrage (Saxifrage lyallii):

Storm Saxifrage (Micranthes tempesitva; not a 100% certain ID--there are many saxifrage species and of course they hybridize too, just to complicate things):

There were also the first white Pygmy Bitterroot (Lewisia pygmaea) that I've seen:

Along the way we also noted many familiar (to me) species, including Parry's Lousewort (Pedicularis parryi):

Twin Arnica (Arnica sororia; this ID is also complicated, since not all the stems were twinned, and many appeared to be hybridized with Mountain Arnica):

Lewis's Monkeyflower (Mimulus lewisii):

And Sticky Geranium (Geranium viscosissimum):

As we ate lunch up on the ridge, storm clouds began building and we could hear lightning a few miles away (Leroy w/ his fine camera and JackTheDog):

Cutting the hike a bit short, we ambled back to the truck though the storms passed around us.

SkyWatch Friday: Rocky Mtn Thunderstorms & Rainbow

2011-08-04T17:56:00.000-06:00

The dog days of August at 6,000 feet along the Continental Divide in southwest Montana bring warm 80 deg F days, pleasant 40 deg F nights, clear sunny skies and -- some afternoons -- rousing thunderstorms. The sun's energy creates big thermals along the ridges:

The clouds tower up and form storm cells in the late afternoon/evening with rain, hail, and lightning:

And usually it's followed by a rainbow:

Good days--for people as well as dogs.

Back Home Again: Montana Priorities (trout fishing, backpacking)

2011-08-01T13:55:00.001-06:00

I loved Hawai'i, I really did. But not as much as I love my home along the Continental Divide in the Rockies of southwest Montana. It's a tough place to leave in summer, and first two priorities upon arrival: troutfishing and backpacking.

Check the first one off, on day 1:

The Big Hole River fished well on dry flies, lots of brown and rainbow trout rising to small caddis flies and a white aquatic moth. Still, when you want to bring one fresh trout home for supper after a morning of fishing, tie on a stonefly nymph (this beautiful imitation was tied by friend Don Kieffer I think. Or was it Mike Morris? Or Chad Okrusch? At any rate, THANK YOU you guys for feeding my habit.):

Next day, a few nights of backpacking. Strangely enough, although I can see it to the south from my house, I had never backpacked into the Highland Mountains:

We hiked up from Hell's Canyon, above the old Forest Service Guard Station (it's available for rent):

This area is dry and therefore below treeline--sagebrush prairie, ideal habitat for this big-eared Mule Deer doe:

MollyTheDog & I found a campsite on an elevated point of dry ground, near the creek but breezy so the mosquitoes (the air is thick with 'em this year, following that long wet spring):

We built a fire and cooked a good supper:

And fell asleep cooled by the breeze from a snow cornice on the ridge above our camp:

Hiking upward through the twisted krumholz and avalanche chutes, I could see the cones of Whitebark Pines shining dark against the blue sky:

A squirrel had cut a cone but not harvested it, so I enjoyed the pine nuts, a tasty if sticky treat:

In the woods, Heartleaf Arnica (Arnica cordifolia) carpeted the ground and Fritillary Butterflies find these flowers especially tasty:

Also in the woods, the occasional Pine White Butterfly:

There was lots of elk sign (such as this big wallow) and though we sent one huge bull crashing from it's bed I was not quick enough with the camera:

Several other widlflowers bloomed in the woods, including Trappers Tea (Ledum glandulosum):

And Green-flowered Wintergreen (Pyrola chlorantha):

As we began to rise above tree-line, wet meadows were still full of spring flowers such as these Shooting Stars:

In transitional (between wet and dry) areas, there was Arrowleaf Groundsel (Senecio triangularis ):

In drier areas, Silvery Lupine (Lupinus argenteus) dominated the floral community:

In the driest and rockiest areas, the star of the moment was Lanceleaf Stonecrop (Sedum lanceolatum):

Froma meadow leading to the saddle between Table Mountain and another, unnamed, ridge, you can see why this mountain deserves its name:

We surprised a herd of Rocky Mountain Big-horn Sheep. There were 12 in all (8 ewes and 4 kids); here are some of them:

Pausing to watch the sheep, my binoculars found a flock of robins mobbing something on the meadow past the roll of the ridge where we could not see. I thought maybe it was a Peregrine Falcon or other predator, so we hike closer. It was a Coyote, mousing and seemingly oblivious to the pesky birds. MollyTheDog and I hunkered down into some krumholz where I plucked a blade of grass and used it to make a high-pitched "dying rabbit" squeal. Coyote approached steadily but cautiously, coming to within about 60 yards before it scented us and bolted:

We continued our steep scramble up Table Mountain, pausing for breath occasionally, and taking in this view of Red Mountain:

When MollyTheDog finds a snow field, she KNOWS what to do. Oh the joy of life's simple pleasures!:

In the Alpine meadows and "rock gardens" of Table Mountain, I was pleased to find some new (to me) varieties of wildflowers. Who would think that the flora would be so different from the Pintler, just a few miles to the west? New species included Alpine Buttercup (Ranunculus eschscholtzii; lower left yellow flower):

Drummonds Anemone (Anemone drummondii):

A variety of Phlox probably kelseyi var. Missoula:

And Old Man of the Mountain (Tetraneuris grandiflora):

Familiar, though always welcome, were Moss Campion (Silene acaulis), shown here with a Tortoiseshell Butterfly:

Tiny Alpine Forget-me-not (Eritrichium nanum), shown here with a buttercup for size comparison:

Cushion Buckwheat (Eriogonum ovalifolium):

Cushion Phlox (Phlox pulvinata) shown here with a humblebee:

Once on top, it was time to hang out at the peak monument, enjoy lunch, and engage in soulful contemplation. Great views of course, including a view north to Butte (left) and the Berkeley Pit/Continental Pit copper mines (right). That's my house in the upper left of the photo ;-)

A hike down and back to camp, a good night's sleep, then the hike out. Back in Butte, were treated to an evening thunderstorm and a rainbow:

I think I already found that pot o' gold...

Roving the Big Island (Hawai'i)

2011-07-30T15:13:00.000-06:00

I am loath to leave Montana in the summer: perfect temperatures of 80 deg F day/40 night; excellent trout fishing & backpacking; clear blue skies; and when rain does come it's usually in the form of a rousing thunderstorm. But daughter Emily has been in Kona, Hawai'i, since May working on her graduate research, so Mrs Rover & I wanted to see her work and have a good visit. It's a wonderful amazing place, and we are grateful for the adventures Emily has led us on through competitive swimming, college in Boston MA and now Vancouver WA, and research in Hawai'i.

Yellow Tang Research

Syd Kraul of Pacific Planktonics generously shared his facility as a place for Emily to set up her research. She is studying the collection and treatment of Yellow Tang (Zebrasoma flavescens), the "most popular saltwater aquarium fish," in order to improve conservation/fishing practices and reduce mortality (Mila Zinkova pic of Yellow Tang on Kona Reef):

She went scuba diving with a local fisherman several times to collect fish, set up three pools with cages and plumbing to supply a flow of seawater, developed feeding techniques (fresh leafy algae), and is performing various tests to monitor parasites and stress etc. Here are the pools:

And here is feeding time:

Life is a beach,

and we visited a bunch of them from Pololu (north coast) to Punaluu (southeast coast). A big surprise: Hawai'i is relatively uncrowded. Easily reached places with exellent snorkeling such as Two-Step Beach (photos to come, as they are from an underwater film camera) are full of popular, but even some of the sandy, good swimming beaches near Kona are fairly empty on weekdays:

For sheer strangeness, a trip to Punaluu ("Black Sand Beach") was well worth the drive:

Be sure to enjoy the local bread after an hour or two of snorkeling:

And for sheer remoteness, take the hike to a place like Pololu. Heed the warning signs (lots of lawyers in Hawai'i?):

Enjoy the view on the trail down:

Enjoy the mist as it blows in from the wild Pacific Ocean:

On the beach, watch for exotic sea creatures like these tiny Portuguese Man o' Wars:

And even stranger, the creature that hangs with (and feeds upon) venomous Portuguese Man o' Wars, the nudibranch Glaucus atlanticus:

Green sea turtles are doing extremely well in Hawai'i, and they are a common sight while snorkeling or hanging out on the beaches:

Watch where you put your hands around rocks, coral, and tidal pools. Sea urchins are abundant, and there are other dangers such as this 5-foot+ moray eel:

Island creatures are famous examples of Darwinian evolution (see e.g. "Darwin's finches"), and Emily pointed out the way these Hawaiian crabs have evolved to perfectly match the color of the dark lava:

Like Montana's rivers, the Hawaiian shoreline is all public, with access points well marked (a good guide book such as Hawaii The Big Island Revealed: The Ultimate Guidebook is essential):

Pele, the Volcano Goddess,

created the Hawaiin Islands, and no visit is complete without seeing Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park. We lucked out with an exceptional park ranger/guide, a high school science teacher and Hawaiian native, who mixed his informative tour with animated stories that Grandma told and even a traditional prayer-song of thanks for the beautiful day. He explained the process by which vegetation colonizes lava flows:

And told us about the active Kilauea vent:

Hike around the rain forest of the park and enjoy the exotic vegetation:

We visited many of the lava flows, including the relatively new Mauna Ulu that flowed to the sea:

The massive Iki caldera:

And other sites along the Chain of Craters road. At the end of the road is the Holei Sea Arch:

Where the coast is lined with formidable cliffs:

My favorite site along the road was a hike out to Pu'u Loa petroglyphs, carved into the rocks by generations of First Hawaiian People over hundreds of years:

Kona Coffee's

reputation (and cost) is well-deserved given the unique weather that produces its tremendous flavor and the intense labor it takes to grow and process the beans. Many of the coffee farms, like this co-op, offer informative tours, samples, and of course merchandise:

In addition to coffee beans:

Every farm seems to have the obligatory donkee:

As well as macadamia nuts (again, with free samples--crack your own!):

Food and Drink

Well, Mai Tai's on the beach at sunset are a no-brainer, of course:

But there's also my favorite ("Go figure," sez Mrs Rover), the Kona Brew Pub:

Superb beer in a friendly setting:

Also good food and a very smart merchandising plan--you wait for a table next to the t-shirt shop:

For fresh fish, cook your own! We enjoyed ahi tuna, black marlin steaks, and this lovely filet of ono ("wahoo")--the tastiest fish I've ever put in my mouth (well, maybe it's equal with bluefish grilled fresh from the north Atlantic). Buy it fresh off the boat at the Bite Me! market just north of Kona:

Aloha!

Skywatch Friday: Hawaii and Montana

2011-07-30T11:41:00.000-06:00

We visited daughter Emily who is doing research in Marine Biology near Kona on Hawai'i ("Big Island"). Lots of good memories (see separate post): snorkeling, hiking to remote beaches, touring the volcano/lava flows, and visiting the coffee farms. Ah, and the sunsets, whether from the rugged north coast:

From our hotel beach:

Or from the local Mai Tai bar with daughter Emily and Mrs Rover:

Still, it was nice to back home in southwest Montana, where I headed to the mountains, backpacking in the Highlands just south of our home in Butte. High elevation, crisp clear air, snow cornices, and the view of Red Mountain from Table Mountain:

And hanging out on Table Mtn with MollyTheDog for lunch and soulful contemplation:

Skywatch Friday: Hot Montana Rainbows

2011-07-14T15:00:00.002-06:00

I love my fellow Butteians and their sense of weather. No complaints on the -30 deg F day when the air is calm and the sky so bright it hurts your eyes. No complaints on the 15th consecutive day of cold June rain. But, but but but: first July day it hits 80 deg F and everyone you meet complains about the unbearable heat.

The heat also lifts moisture into towering, photogenic clouds. And whatever goes up, must come down. Some as "dry rain," properly known as virga:

But the rains have also blessed us this past week with more rainbows than you could shake a stick at. Here are a few:

"Sure hope it cools down. 's been over 80 every day for more'n'a week, just too darned hot..."

One Last Hike (before Hawaii)

2011-07-12T22:52:00.000-06:00

Mrs Rover & I leave for Hawaii tomorrow on a visit with daughter Emily who is doing her graduate research/field work there. Before leaving, MollyTheDog & I got out for one last hike in the Montana hills. I was glad to find this field of gold:

Heartleaf Arnica (Arnica cordifolia), an excellent healing plant (external use only!) with sesquiterpene lactones--bio-active chemicals that are anti-microbial and anti-inflammatory:

I crushed a plant's flower, leaves, and stem and rubbed it on a "barked" shin that would not heal. The plant juices formed a protective film over the wound and by that evening the inflammation (bone bruise) had subsided and the skin began to heal. I don't have a before photo of my wound in its "weepy" state (lucky you), but here's my shin some hours after the arnica treatment:

In the shade of the lodgepole pines, I thought I made another great find with a huge patch of morel mushrooms, but a closer ground-level view proved them to be toxic false morels (Gyromitra esculenta). Dang:

Back out in the meadow, this lovely field of pink:

Turned out to be Parrys Lousewort (Pedicularis parryi var purpurea), a flower that is usually white or yellow but has a local "purple" variation:

Sulfur Buckwheat (Eriogonum umbellatum) is also blooming under the hot July sun:

Well, just a short hike in the hills north of the house and then it was time to get back home as I wanted to get the new toilet set in the downstairs bath (yes, that new kitchen/bath renovation is nearly complete) before bringing MollyTheDog to puppy camp. Hope to be checking in from Hawaii soon, Aloha!

Montana Folk Festival 2011

2011-07-12T22:19:00.000-06:00

After three years of hosting the National Folk Festival (it will be in Nashville this year), my little city of Butte Montana has launched the Montana Folk Festival as a new annual event. Modeled on the national festival, it did not disappoint: musicians came from all over the world to the free (donations, please!) event.

Here are a few of the many acts I was able to take in over the 3 days. Most of the links will take you to a YouTube video of their performance. Enjoy!

Kotchegna (Ivory Coast Dance):

Daryl Davis (Boogie Woogie Piano legend):

Blue Highway (American Bluegrass):

Vishten (French Acadian):

My personal favorite, Nukariik (Inuit Throat Singing):

In Inuit culture, women throat sing as a contest where the leader weaves a hard path for the follower to keep up with. The "loser" is the first to laugh. Men throat sing as a contest too, but it's often an insult contest and the loser is the first to lose their temper (see the quasi-documentary film "The Wedding of Palo" by Knud Rasmussen, 1935). I like it when the throat singers use a drum, too:

Dance tent and Montana local favorite, Wylie & The Wild West (Cowboy & Western Music); Wylie invented the trademark Yahoo yodel:

And closing out the dance tent on Saturday night to a packed crowd, Boukman Eksperyans (Haitian Mizik Rasin):

In addition to music, there was JD Old Mouse telling his traditional stories, show'n'tell exhibits by Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks, and great food. And dancing. Did I mention lots of dancing?

It all takes place in uptown Butte, Montana. Come join us next year amid the old mining head frames ("gallows frames") of the festival city.

Thank You, Craig Woodson

2011-07-12T21:13:00.000-06:00

Sunday I was privileged to attend a memorial service for Charles "Craig" Woodson, Jr (1933-2011). I came to know Mr. Woodson in the early 1990s after he bought and began restoring a ranch on the Ruby River here in southwest Montana. My daughter Emily, "Little Brother" A.J., and several friends shot their first deer there. It was a beautiful place to hunt and a typical day included watching ducks, pheasant, turkeys, and even (once) bear.

The place was pretty beat-up when Mr. Woodson took it on as both a restoration project and a working cattle ranch. Along the way, the ranch became the Ruby Habitat Foundation--an outdoor classroom dedicated to conservation education and sustainable agriculture. I met Mr. Woodson just a few times and talked only briefly, but I think I got to know him pretty well through his stewardship.

The ceremony was a quintessential Montana experience. A couple of cowboys sang western tunes and played guitars. The preacher told how Mr. Woodson got to know his neighbors by visiting house to house, sitting at kitchen tables over coffee. A grand-daughter explained that she didn't know which was more embarrassing, driving the truck into an irrigation ditch or pulling over so Grandpa could pee by the roadside. Above all, however, these memories stand out for me from the ceremony:

Wafting on the breeze, the smell of fresh-cut alfalfa hay;
Mayfly duns alighting in the hair of the girl sitting in front of me;
Belted kingfisher hovering over the nearby creek before diving down to seize a minnow;
Bald eagle soaring over the valley, swooping low over the river before ascending on a thermal;
Western meadowlark's sweet song drifting down from the sagebrush;
Storm of cottonwood seeds floating through the air, shining bright against a dark cloud; and
Yes, oh yes, violet-green swallows swooping over our heads, feasting on the abundant mosquitoes.

Thanks for the day, Craig!

Those wishing to donate in honor of Craig Woodson may send contributions to:

Ruby Habitat Foundation
2597 Hwy 287
PO Box 638
Sheridan MT 59749

Skywatch Friday: Hiking Around Butte America

2011-07-07T14:34:00.001-06:00

Summer has arrived with a vengeance--temperatures in the 80s everyday and most days not a cloud in sight. One sure way to avoid the heat is a hike in the hills surrounding Butte America. It's also a major mosquito year, but the dry heat should take care of them very soon.

Warm Springs Ponds

We hiked a pleasant morning around Warm Springs Ponds at the headwaters of the Clark Fork River. Here is Mt Powell reflected in one of the ponds, with the 500+-foot tall Anaconda Smelter Stack on the left:

Bald eagles have long has a nest site at the ponds, and we were at first puzzled to see two dark eagles (which we took to be a golden) near the nest while a bald eagle looked on:

We were even more puzzled when they perched together:

Mystery solved: birder friend Andrea Stierle explained to us that these are juvenile bald eagles--apparently not all juveniles have the white flecks or underwing markings that usually characterize them. Though not a birder, I appreciate the abundant flying things (well, maybe not the mosquitoes) that populate the ponds. These range from swarms of blue damsel flies:

To white pelicans:

And yellow-headed blackbirds:

Continental Divide

On a small west slope (i.e. Pacific-bound) drainage, we visited a favorite pond to celebrate Independence Day, roast weenies, and where the dogs could have a swim:

The dense grove of quaking aspens along the creek makes for good black bear habitat, with tracks and other fresh sign:

And the usual bear claw marks on some aspens:

In the lush grass along the creek, we found Starry Solomon's Seal (Smilacina stellata):

And on a dry, open slope, the first flowering Beargrass (Xerophyllum tenax) of the year:

ATVs (aka "four wheelers") frequently go (illegally) off road in the area, and it seems wherever they travel weeds grow behind them--such as this Leafy Spurge (Euphorbia esula):

Walkerville Creek

Friends Brent and Karina Patch are in town for the upcoming Montana Folk Festival. Brent and I hunted and backpacked together before he moved over to Pocatello, and we took this opportunity (along with two other friends and two dogs) for a hike on a small creek just off the Continental Divide near town. I've hiked and skied this area often, but we dropped off a steep ridge and came upon this tumbledown miner's cabin that I'd never seen before:

Inside, the old cook stove was about all that remained:

But nearby we found a few tasty morel mushrooms:

The wet spring has made fungi abundant, and even when I don't know the species (or whether they are edible) I love their shapes, textures, and colors:

The wet meadows (and they are still VERY wet--wish I'd brought a change of socks!) are home to Blue Camas (Camassia quamash; the roots were an important food source for Indians that once lived here):

Also our native Elk Thistle (Cirsium scariosum):

On the way back down to the LandRover, we stopped by a mid-elevation lake where the young (and young at heart; and dogs, of course) could cool down with a refreshing swim:

Back at the Rover, MollyTheDog was too tired to chew the elk leg bone she had found. She lay down on it, however--just in case someone else might want it.

This weekend: the Montana Folk Festival--three days of peace, love, and music with musicians from around the country.

Skywatch Friday: Elk Racks & Bitterroot Flowers

2011-07-01T13:15:00.000-06:00

Summer came to Butte, Montana, exactly with the calendar this year. Before the summer solstice, nights were frosty, many mornings we woke to snow, and most days temperatures hovered in the 50s (deg F). After the solstice, it's been 70+ with plenty of bright, blue skies. On a recent hike through the Boulder Batholith near town, Dave Carter & I were greeted by the familiar spires of the rock formation that marks this area:

Just over the Continental Divide south of town, we navigate by our view of the Highland Mountains:

Molly & Jack TheDogs stayed peculiarly close to us, perhaps it had something to do with the fresh bear sign:

I'm scouting a place to bowhunt come September. We did not see any elk, but as usual saw a few dependable mule deer, including this young doe:

Now, if you find a rabbit's foot from a coyote kill, can the rabbit's foot possibly be lucky? Certainly wasn't for the rabbit:

There was plenty of elk sign, and hiking back to the truck we cut across a large, open park, only to come upon this very symmetrical 5-point elk rack with skull (possibly winter or wolf kill):

In the woods, the Kinnikinnick (Arcostaphylos uva-ursi) is blooming. Indians used the leaves medicinally (they have antibiotic properties) and smoked it. Not sure why they smoked it--I've tried it and it seems to have no narcotic effect:

At a small old mining site up on the ridge, Dense-leaf Draba (Draba densifolia) had colonized all the tailings piles:

Down low, the wet meadows are lit up with Prairie Smoke (Geum triflorum; aka "Purple Avens"). The flowers are pretty but not all that showy--that has to wait for pollination and seed development, when the seed heads burst open with long, smoke-like tendrils to carry off the wind-born seeds:

After a long morning hike, what's better than stopping at Dairy Queen for ice cream? Including, of course, a couple of cones for Molly and Jack:

Back home in Walkerville, on the west slope of the Divide, the wet spring has made for lush blooms on the wild apple trees in the horse pasture behind the house:

The humblebees must be very grateful for the rich nectar:

I am grateful for the butterflies that are beginning to show up:

For the Field Pussytoes (Antennaria neglecta) that dot the sagebrush:

And, most especially, for the Rock Roses (Bitterroot; Lewisia rediviva). Aptly chosen as Montana's state flower, Bitterroots and other native flora have been colonizing the Butte Hill. Rare when I moved here 20+ years ago, they now carpet many of the most barren, rocky areas:

There are just a few blooms now, but it looks as though there are plenty of buds yet to open:

Happy 4th of July to American readers, and happy summer to all.

SkywatchFriday: Washington D.C., Fulbright to China

2011-06-25T15:55:00.000-06:00

A long way from Montana, I'm in Washington D.C. for an orientation to prepare me for being a visiting professor next year in China. A Fulbright Award is a huge honor and going to China is a huge -- and daunting -- adventure. It's been an intense 3 day orientation and on a short break between sessions I walked outside the hotel to take in a view of the sky:

By global standards, even the D.C.'s oldest architecture is quite young. Like my home in Butte or like most American cities, many of D.C.'s buildings date to our nation's industrial development after the Civil War. A building like this would not be out of place in Butte, Buffalo, or Boise:

But buildings get old, maintenance becomes expensive, and sometimes they fall into disuse (National Union Building, 1890):

Eventually, like D.C.'s Webster School (1881-2; a classic red brick urban school of this period), they are shuttered up and slated for demolition. But in D.C. as in Butte, there is a powerful social movement to save such buildings:

Despite the sentiments of historic preservationists, if a city is healthy, it must make room for new construction that better meets the needs of business and current residents. I was curious about the huge hole in the ground/construction site across from my hotel--turns out D.C.'s convention center has been razed and will be replaced with a giant shopping plaza:

I'm not judging whether this is good or bad, but it does indicate a changing urban American worldview, with private commercial space replacing public space (though it was public space built for private commerce).

My soon-to-be host country of China seems to have no qualms about this sort of thing. I'll be with Southwest University of Chongqing, a city of 31.4 million people. Yep. That's 31,400,000 or four times the size of New York City. It seems that everything is bigger in China: the university has more than 50,000 students. And, like much infrastructure in China, most of it is new and a product of China's phenomenal economic growth over the past decade or so (this photo is from China Travel Tips):

As I know from the friends I made many years ago in graduate school, many Chinese are friendly and welcoming of Americans. This was affirmed last night in a sumptuous reception at the home of Dr. You Shaozhong, the China Embassy's Minister Counselor for Education:

By the way, it's a classic c. 1900 house:

As those of you that know me and/or who read this blog understand, this is going to be quite an adventure for me. Accustomed to the 4-season outdoor recreation of Montana (fish, hike, hunt, ski), what's a nature boy to do? Check back next year and I'll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, it's back to my beloved mountains.

Skywatch Friday: Mountain Views

2011-06-17T17:04:00.002-06:00

A great week of skies, it's been. See the next two posts for lots of wildlife (elk, elk calves, etc) and wildflower pics.

Watching the valley clouds burn off the Highland Mountains south of Butte on a chilly morning:

Enjoying a view of the Pintler Mountain Range from my campsite:

Delighting in the generally crazy cloud formations of a springtime in the Rocky Mountains:

Or taking in the Montana Big Sky views of the high desert:

It's all good.

Camping Where the Antelope & Elk Play

2011-06-17T17:04:00.001-06:00

Spring took its time coming this year, but the wet cool weather has made for an outstanding green and lush landscape. I took advantage of a few dry days to camp on the high sagebrush prairie of the upper Big Hole River where pronghorn antelope fawn and elk calve. My campsite was along a two-track dirt road, seldom traveled, and with a great view to the peaks of the Pintler Mountain Range:

There are a few mule deer, but this is primarily antelope and elk habitat (mule deer doe along a creek, probably with a fawn hidden nearby):

Hiking around the secluded area near camp, elk cows were everywhere, some solitary and some in small bunches:

Many had their calves with them. They are several weeks old, and it's only in the last few days that they are big and fast enough to keep up with the herd:

Some elk cows come into heat later than others, and some are not bred when they first come into estrus but are the second time. These cows calve several weeks later than most, and so they remain solitary and keep their calves well hidden. On a hike through the pines along a creek, MollyTheDog and I came upon two very young calves. They remain motionless to avoid detection (only one is clear in the photo, but there's another behind it--elk twins are relatively rare):

An "Indian road" passes through the area with numerous tipi rings on the level spots overlooking the creeks. Look closely around the tipi rings and you find numerous jasper flakes created when the First Peoples worked and sharpened their stone tools. Shown here with the flakes is a piece of bone, probably calcined and preserved in a fire pit:

Several pronghorn antelope bucks hung out on a meadow across the little valley from camp. The antelope does were being very secretive, which tells me they have newborn fawns hidden along the hilltops:

Oh, the delicious taste of antelope steaks (from last hunting season) roasted over an open fire while watching antelope play on the surrounding prairie:

As the sun set and the full moon rose, I walked up the hill behind camp to capture this shot of the moon rising over a low albeit snow-covered ridge (the snow line is about 7,500 feet right now):

The next morning dawned frosty, haunted by the calls of a sandhill crane as it flew past:

It was time to pack up and head home.

Will Hike for Wildflowers

2011-06-17T17:04:00.000-06:00

Both while camping (see the next post) and hiking, now is a great time for spring wildflowers on the high desert and sagebrush prairie of southwest Montana:

Sagebrush Prairie Wildflowers

Camped on the open prairie of the upper Big Hole River watershed, I was there primarily to watch elk cows and calves. But no one could ignore the great wildflowers blooming in this wet, lush spring. It was also an opportunity for Mrs. Rover and I to visit RolyTheDog's grave:

Here's a sampler of the wildflowers.

Shooting Stars (Dodecatheon pulchellum; known colloquially as Roosterheads), both purple:

And white:

Pasque Flowers (Anemone nuttalliana):

American Bistort (Polygonum bistortoides):

Green Bluebells (Mertensia lanceolata):

False Dandelion (Agoseris glauca):

Glacier Lily (Erythronium grandiflorum):

Springbeauty (Claytonia lanceolata):

And, not quite yet in bloom, Silky Lupine (Lupinus sericeus):

Looking closely for wildflowers, you find other treausures--such as this small rodent jaw:

High Desert Wildflowers

At the same time, on the high desert of the middle Big Hole River valley (near Melrose), the flora is completely different on this parched landscape:

Still, lots of flowers, including the following.

One of many difficult to identify (they hybridize freely) Bladder-pod:

A species of Buckwheat (Erigonum sp.):

Fuzzytongue Penstemon (Penstemon eriantherus):

Prairie Rocket (Erysimum asperum):

Rabbitfoot Crazyweed (Oxytropis lagopus):

Silky Crazyweed (Oxytropis sericea):

Showy Larkspur (Delphinium occidentale):

Silverleaf Phacelia (Phacelia hastata):

And Miner's Candle (Cryptantha celosioides):

The latter is especially appropriate, given the many mines that dot this landscape, a geological contact zone of limestone and metamorphic rock:

Here's Dave and MollyTheDog checking out an entrance:

Some of the mines go in just a short ways:

Others make scary, deep descents where we dare not go:

I have little interest in mineral treasure, but delight more in finding the shed antlers of mule deer:

Down the valley along the river, the salmonflies are hatching in the high, flood-level waters. The emergence of salmonflies always seems to coincide with the arrival of Western Tanagers:

While the rest of the country is experiencing a heat wave or other severe weather, we're just happy to have nights that are mostly above freezing now! Spring.

Skywatch Friday: Wildflowers, Trout Fishing

2011-06-02T17:47:00.000-06:00

Interesting spring weather, with snowy thunderstorms and beautiful hours between storms. Our rivers in southwest Montana are "blown out" by high water as the mid-elevation snow melts off, but the creeks -- especially those with abundant beaver dams to settle and clarify the water -- are fishing VERY well. Yesterday found me on the other side (west slope) of the Continental Divide, and on the way home I caught this beautiful sunset (the 585-foot tall Anaconda Copper Company smelter stack is silhouetted on the left):

Trout fishing
I came home with a nice basketful of plump Brook Trout like this one:

I also caught (and released) a bunch of Rainbow Trout. Because of the cool weather/water temperatures they are still spawning. They run up the tributaries from the main-stem Big Hole River to spawn, and it's great fun to catch relatively large fish like this in small streams that you can practically jump across:

To complement that trout dinner, I also happened upon a few of these tasty puffballs:

Wildflowers
Lots of blooms happening, including Hesperochiron (Hesperochiron pumilus -- translates as "evening Centaur skilled in medicine"):

Blue Violets (Viola adunca):

Shooting Stars (aka "Roosterheads;" Dodecatheon pulchellum):

Small Bluebells (Mertensia oblongiflora):

And the usual mystery flower (a species of Phacelia?):

Aerial Joust
In addition to good fishing, lovely flowers, and meadows full of (distant) cow elk, I caught this drama as a kestrel chased a medium-sized hawk from its territory:

The Decemberists: Road Trip, Bend Oregon

2011-05-31T15:27:00.000-06:00

Every place, of course, has a history. Yet some places are more celebrated than others. When a place contributed to a nation's growth, shared its growing pains, and suffered for its contributions it is especially worth celebrating. Such is Butte America, the little city in southwest Montana that I call home, a place shaped by a century of copper mining and smelting.

A lot of film, literature, and music has been produced about Butte's history. This canon ranges from Dashiell Hammett's Red Harvest (novel) to the recent PBS documentary film, Butte, America. Butte's Granite Mountain/Speculator Mine disaster (1917) has generated its own share of interest. 168 miners died, making it the world's worst hardrock mine tragedy to date.

The most recent contribution to commemorate the Granite Mountain Mine Disaster is the song "Rox in the Box" (click this link to hear it on YouTube) on the new album (The King is Dead, 2011) by the indie rock band, The Decemberists. For those of you that don't know this group, check out this song and other favorites such as Down by the Water -- good vibes reminiscent of Neil Young and REM. Here's the band ( photo by Autumn de Wilde for The Guardian newspaper):

Mrs Rover & I drove the 700 miles (almost 12 hours, with a lunch & supper stop) to Bend, Oregon, for The Decemberists outdoor concert. We camped at Tumalo State Park, enjoyed a sunset along the lava cliffs of the Deschutes River:

Took in some of the great local brews (Brew Werks selection pictured here):

Took in some of the sights (?) of Information-Age-Bend:

And saw our first California Quail:

I'd be remiss not to plug the duet Rodrigo y Gabriela that opened the show (check out a video of their music here). She is the most amazing guitar player I've ever seen/heard. Didn't even know it was legal to do that with a guitar!

Skywatch Friday: Rocky Mountain Spring Skies

2011-05-26T12:31:00.001-06:00

Spring is a distinct phase in our annual weather. It begins with the on-again (warm sunny days), off-again (blizzards) days of March and April. Come mid-May, most nights do not drop below freezing, the hills green up, and flowers bloom. And the skies, yes, the skies too show the transition (sunset view from my home in Walkerville, Montana):

On a little fishing trip on the other side of the Continental Divide (a half-hour away), the setting sun lit the sky over the Pintler Mountain Range:

By the time I got to the Opportunity/Wisdom turn-offs (my friend Chad Okrusch wrote this song about that strange place: Opportunity Blues ), the sky blazed behind the old Anaconda Copper Company smelter stack:

It's a busy time for wildlife. The pronghorn antelope herds move from winter to summer range (yes, they do occasionally leap fences!):

"Hey guys, wait for me!":

A busy beaver swam around a small dam just above where I fished, slapping his tail a few times and generally showing his impatience with my intrusion:

And the ants swarmed out for housecleaning party:

I have no idea what they were doing, but they were VERY active:

On the Butte Hill, Cutleaf Daisies (Erigeron compositus) are blooming:

Look closely to see the tiny, finger-like leaves:

But it's the skies that keep calling out for our attention:

Spring skies? You bet:

Skywatch Friday: Hiking & Trout Fishing

2011-05-16T17:30:00.000-06:00

Final exam week + graduation + graduation parties = a "Skywatch Friday" post on Monday!

Let's start off with a skyview from graduate Emma MacKenzie's (MS-Technical Communication) apartment window here in Butte, Montana. Nailed up on a cross, various animal parts; as Wilson in the film Dead Man says, "looks like a goddamn religious icon:”

Troutfishing
Before things got so busy, I did have a good afternoon fishing the Jefferson River. Some nice brown trout came to hand:

As well as (in a ratio of about 3 to 1) lots of feisty little rainbows:

Sometimes, in fishing, I become so intent on the water that I forget to look around at the canyon cliffs:

Or at the turkey buzzards circling above the canyon walls:

At the EIGHT buzzards circling above my head:

Must be something dead around here. MollyTheDog says "Dead? Nope. Absolutely not. Nothin' dead 'round here. Nobody here but us dogs. And goose wings."

Hiking
And before things got busy, friend Dave Carter & I got out for a hike in the Humbug Spires, and especially scenic bit of the Boulder Batholith:

Along the Moose Creek bottom, the Red-Osier Dogwood (Cornus stolonifera) is in flame:

On the hillsides, the Rocky Mountain Douglasia (Douglasia montana) blooms are at their peak:

That's worth a closer look:

And in the meadows, there are Wyoming Kittentails (Besseya wyomingensis):

Biscuitroot (Lomatium cous):

And swelling rosettes of Bitterroot (Lewisia rediviva):

On the way home, drive past the Anaconda Smelter Stack and check out the elk, migrating from winter range to their calving grounds (the elk are on the meadow below and to the right of the stack):

Mountains throughout the Day
Butte America lies just north of the Highland Mountains. I like the sunrise view from my front porch as MollyTheDog fetches the paper:

The noon view from the front door of my workplace:

And the sunset view, again from home:

Yes, there is still a lot of snow up there. And just two weeks ago, we had a "surprise" spring snow storm and good skiing at The Moulton:

Schools out for summer: let's get out there!

Skywatch Friday: Continental Divide, East & West

2011-04-28T15:10:00.001-06:00

At 6,000 feet along the Continental Divide in southwest Montana, spring can come slowly. But then one day the air feels different, and though we will have frosty nights and another blizzard or two, it's really spring. To keep one's life in a sort of Zen balance, it's time to take in both sides of the Great Divide. Like these specimens of the Boulder Batholith on a ridge overlooking my home, we seek a dynamic tension. Here, a conversation between earth & sky (and gravity):

Like a Zen kōan the two sides have a contrasting nature that must be reconciled. Butte, Montana, lies on the dark side of the mountain with its water polluted by copper mining waste flowing to the Pacific Ocean. In this panoramic photo, you can see the old, abandoned Berkeley Pit on the right and billionaire Dennis Washington's ("Montana Resources") still-operating East Pit (aka "Continental Pit") on the left (zoom in and check it out):

The awesome beauty of these environmentally horrific mining operations are sort of a kōan within a kōan, as this close-up photo of the Berkeley Pit (filled with highly toxic water) shows:

Not shown in the photos above is the Yankee Doodle Tailings "pond," an artificial lake of several square miles where Washington dumps his waste from the Montana Resources/East Pit operation (note that the surface is still frozen over):

The earthen dam that holds this mess back is several hundred feet high. If it failed, as earthen dams sometimes do, it would make a huge splash in the Berkeley Pit into which it drains. To give you some idea of the sheer size of the Yankee Doodle Tailings, here's a closeup--showing a huge mining truck dumping mine waste to heighten the breast of the dam; the huge mining truck is that tiny dot on the raised portion of the dam, center right:

Yet somehow, nature endures. There was sign from a herd of mule deer, including this recently shed antler:

And MollyTheDog flushed several Blue Grouse. I wasn't quick enough with the camera to catch their flight, but the tracks were pretty slow and I could sneak up on them:

Speaking of MTD, turns out she's a mountain dog, scrambling over the boulder-strewn ridges like a champ:

The next day, Mrs Rover and I took a hike up a favorite wash along the Big Hole River, whose relatively pristine waters drain to the Atlantic Ocean. Hmmm... what's this? A dead Mule Deer Buck. Wonder what killed it?

Oh, here's another dead Mulie, a yearling. From the way it's been skinned out, it looks (and smells!) like the work of M. Tn. Lion. Well, Cougars have to eat too, the dead noursish the living, and nature endures:

How happy we were to see the first flowers of spring, including this incredibly lush bouquet of Hooker's Townsendia (Townsendia hookeri):

And the lovely, if tiny, blooms of Hood's Phlox (Phlox hoodi):

The ant people too are welcoming spring as they frantically work to clear their tunnels and bring in food for a new generation:

Happy Spring!

Skywatch Friday: Happy Earth Day

2011-04-24T21:41:00.000-06:00

In the Rocky Mountains of southwest Montana, it's still winter in fits and starts. Here, a snow storm cell sits over the city of Butte, dropping some fluffy white:

As you might imagine, people are getting grumpy about this cool, wet spring. Human people, that is. For others, such as MollyTheDog, "It's all good." Here she is, romping on our walk to school one morning:

Dave Carter and I take a hike out in the hills once or twice a week. Last week, on a hike up a steep ridge grom a gulch near the Big Hole River, Dave found this outstanding obsidian tool, left by some Native American a long time ago:

Probably a knife point based on the asymmetry (projectile points need to be well-balanced). It had broken off in a classic "hinge" fracture (as a boy, how many steel knife tips did I break off, despite Gramps' warnings "Don't pry with that knife!"):

There is no naturally occurring obsidian in the Big Hole. Nearest sources are near Yellowstone National Park more than 100 miles away. The location of the find, looking uphill, is in the photo below. We hypothesized that the hunter shot an elk up near the treeline, it ran downhill and died, and Dave found the tool at the butchering site. A writer friend Paul Vang asked, "Why an elk? Why not a deer or sheep?" Well, we found elk sign in the area and it's not really mule deer (or antelope) habitat. Could've been a big horned sheep, though. But it's OUR story.

From the top of timbered ridge, here's a view to some nearby mountains. It'll be June before the snow melts off enough to hike there:

A century or so ago, this area (like much of the western U.S.) was mined extensively. Most of the remains from that era are rotting back into the earth, but occasionally someone has made an effort to preserve an artifact like this old cabin. Wonder what kind of tin cans they peeled open to make those roofing tiles?

Here's a couple of old miners standing guard at the drift, protecting their claim:

There are still a few dreamers around hoping to strike it rich. According to federal law, you have to "stake your claim" by marking it in a prescribed manner:

Mining? It's for the birds. Or so says this mountain bluebird, waiting for enough bugs to wake up so that he can feed nestlings:

Wherever you live, I hope you have a chance to get outside and enjoy the natural world that is our most valuable inheritance. Happy Earth Day! Be good to your mother.

Superfund News for the Upper Clark Fork River Basin

2011-04-15T15:46:00.000-06:00

[The following post is modified from my Montana Public Radio commentary on behalf of the Clark Fork River Technical Assistance Committee.]

It must be springtime: Green bitterroot rosettes dot the Butte Hill; furry catkins decorate the pussy willows behind my house; and it’s pledge week on Montana Public Radio. Oh yes, and in Butte we woke to several inches of fresh snow yesterday.

It’s a busy time for Superfund in the Upper Clark Fork River Basin.

The Beal Mountain project, an open-pit gold mine, operated in the 1990s. It was billed as a state-of-the-art mine that would boost the economy without harming the environment. The company declared bankruptcy, as gold mining corporations always seem to do, when the price of gold went down and the ore petered out. (photo of Beal open pit below by A Berger)

The bond proved too small to cover the cost of closure and cleanup. To date, the National Forest has spent nine million dollars on cleanup and estimates another forty million to complete the fix. Meanwhile, selenium and cyanide poison the aquifer and native cutthroat trout, and it costs five hundred thousand dollars a year to maintain current cleanup operations. (project map below from U.S. Forest Service)

Beal Mountain drains to German Gulch, an important tributary of Silver Bow Creek. Like all abandoned open pit mines, it is a ticking time bomb and a perpetual reminder of a failed technology. As one of the last strongholds of native Westslope Cutthroat Trout in the Butte area, we can only hope that pollution from this mine doesn't wipe them out. (photo below: Westslope Cutthroat Trout in German Gulch Creek by EcoRover)

Superfund cleanup in Butte appears stalled despite mounting public pressure to deal with failed remedies at the Montana Pole Plant and Parrot Tailings. At the pole plant, mine timbers were treated with highly toxic organic chemicals that polluted soil and groundwater. Arco, now Arco-British Petroleum, was ordered to begin cleanup in 1993. The low-cost in situ cleanup has not worked, and large amounts of soil need to be excavated to remove threats to human and environmental health. (photo below from NBC Montana)

Lucky for Butte, we have a handful of environmental activists that hold Arco-BP and EPA accountable for failures and bad decisions. Some work with the Citizens Technical Environmental Committee or CTEC. Like CFRTAC, CTEC is a citizens’ group that works with the agency to promote public education and participation in the Superfund process. Civic leaders such as Professor John Ray, a political science and communications professor with Montana Tech (photo from Tech web site):

There are other routes to realizing our duties as a citizen. Fritz Daily, a former legislator involved with Superfund for the past thirty years, is a member of a group that has filed a lawsuit against the State of Montana regarding the name of Silver Bow Creek. At its headwaters, the Anaconda Copper Company and the city of Butte long ago began referring to the creek as “the Metro Storm Drain.” The name change was never official. Sadly, the state accepted this designation and now defends it in court. (Photo below of Metro Storm Drain/Silver Bow Creek by Chris Gammons )

The rhetorical power of this hat trick is evident. By referring to a stream as a storm drain, the stream may be treated as an industrial sewer instead of as a protected natural resource. Thus the people of Montana – especially Butteians – are denied the constitutional right to a clean and healthful environment.

As Fritz Daly and other members of the Silver Bow Creek Headwaters Coalition assert, this is an important issue that affects all Montanans. We simply cannot allow state government to arbitrarily rename public waterways in ways that undermine the Public Trust Doctrine and our right to enjoy natural resources.

A new gold mine is slated to begin commercial production next year in the Highland Mountains south of Butte. Though currently an underground mine, Senate Bill 306 would allow this and other ventures to operate as open-pit gold mines and ship ore to cyanide leach facilities. Senator Murphy of Cardwell, where the Golden Sunlight open-pit mine and failed cyanide leach tanks/tailings ponds are located,* is the sponsor. But it has also attracted support from other legislators, such as Jon Sesso a pro-mining, anti-environment Democrat from Butte. The Governor has vowed to veto this bad idea, so by the time you read this, SB 306 could be dead.

(Jon Sesso photo from KTVQ)

(Governor Schweitzer with his VETO branding iron, photo from The Missoulian)

Open-pit gold mines? Bad idea. Failed technology.
-----------------------------------------------

When this commentary aired on Montana Public Radio, I incorrectly stated that Golden Sunlight (GS) had leach pads. Instead, GS employs large, 900,000 gallon leach tanks and open tailings ponds. Since 1983, the tanks and ponds have leaked tens of millions of gallons of cyanide solution, severely polluting the local aquifer and water wells. I thank Tara Mastel of the Jefferson Local Development Corporation for helping me clarify this.

Skywatch Friday: Springtime in the Rockies, Dancing Cranes, Talking Ravens

2011-04-14T18:20:00.000-06:00

It's spring in the northern Rocky Mountains of Southwest Montana. Some days, we wake up to fresh snow (view to the East Ridge of the Continental Divide, Butte Montana; note the open-pit copper mine against the ridge, and the 80-foot tall statue of "Our Lady of the Rockies"on the ridge just above the large blasting scar):

On a trip to the nearby Big Hole River valley (East Slope/Mississippi R; Butte is West Slope/Columbia R), we saw the annual dance of a pair of Rocky Mountain Sandhill Cranes (Grus canadensis). Though they mate for life, each year they go through this ritual before breeding. First they greet:

Then they strut, often in step with one another:

And then they dance:

AND DANCE:

Meanwhile, a Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) soared high overhead:

We didn't dance or fly, but we did stop for burgers at the Wise River Club (pictured from left: Mrs Rover, Emma MacKenzie, Rose MacKenzie, and in front, MollyTheDog):

I usually walk to and from work at my little college, and over the years I've gotten to know the local ravens. I was pouring a cup of coffee and watching out my office when one flew by, and so I said "Hi!" (in Ravenspeak, that's "Quork!"). Sure enough, Raven landed on the building across from my window:

Assumed the characteristic posture:

And we had a nice chat:

You can listen to the language of the Raven People at the Cornell Ornithology Lab website.

Ah, life in a preterite mining town. Just below my home in Walkerville, I noticed emergency vehicles and warning cones. Hmmm... what's this? A giant pothole?

Oh yeah, "subsidence." An old mine shaft has collapsed, opening up a car-sized hole in the pavement above. The neighbor told me his son was parked there overnight and everything was OK when he drove off to school this morning (lucky!):

Robin Hood! Snow or shine, I try to shoot a few arrows from my new longbow every day. Back in the day when I shot competitive archery with a recurve target bow and aluminum arrows, it was not uncommon to shoot an arrow into another arrow, peeling it open like a can-opener. This is called a "Robin Hood." I didn't think it was possible with wooden cedar arrows. Oops... I guess it is:

Well, not to be a whiner, but it can stop snowing any day now. If you're experiencing sunny weather, send some this way!

SkywatchFriday: April is the Cruelest Month... (and a boy's thoughts turn to ARCHERY!)

2011-04-07T16:35:00.001-06:00

T.S. Eliot could have been a Montana when, in his poem "The Wasteland," he wrote:

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

Indeed. Our sunny moments are interspersed with popcorn snow and wind that cuts to the bone:

Still, it is spring, and time to get on with those resolutions--such as rediscovering the joys of archery (and come September, bowhunting):

I owe this to my former student, Jana Robertson. As the daughter (she's named for Ishi's tribe) of famed bowyer Dick Robertson of Robertson Stykbow, she is of course a bowhuntress. Her example, along with some of my friends and other former students around Butte, Montana, was just the push I needed. Having bowhunted from c. 1970 to 1985 (and having shot varsity archery while at Drexel U), I knew my piles (arrow points) from my cocks (index feathers).

Growing up, the kids in my neighborhood often roved the fields and hills with bows. Some were homemade from a hickory stave, some were solid fiberglass from the hardware store. Arrows were whatever we could find and we shot 'til our fingers were sore. As I turned back to archery, these childhood memories became palpable.

Job one: find a bow. That was a fun task, and thanks to the miracle of EBay I found an excellent deal on a lightly used Martin Savannah longbow (reflex-deflex) design:

Job two: assemble arrows. Though I shot cheap hardware-store wooden arrows as a kid, in later years for bowhunting I used fiberglass and for target archery I used aluminum. But I wanted to do this as "traditional archery" and that meant wooden sticks, dipped with several coats of gasket laquer (with a homemade dip-tube and gasket):

Hung to dry in the shower with the vent fan on:

And fletched with "real" feathers, that led to job three: shooting. Results have been encouraging. When I do everything right (draw, anchor, aim, squeeze back, release, and follow through) groups are pretty good up to about 25 yards:

I still have a lot of practicing to do between now and hunting season. Stay posted.

Skywatch Friday: Spring Hike

2011-04-01T17:14:00.000-06:00

Yes, it's springtime in southwest Montana. That means it's below freezing at night, above freezing during the day, and with skies that fluctuate from stormy gray to blinding blue several times over the course of the day. Here's a moment of stormy gray from a recent hike in the hills along the Big Hole River (old telegraph pole, note the wooden insulators below the cross arms):

It was a great hike and we saw two big herds of elk, a few bighorn sheep, antelope, and mule deer. Only these two mule deer people were close enough for a photograph:

There are some genuine signs of spring, too, such as these bitterroot rosettes:

Friend Dave Carter and I brought the dogs along for this hike in mostly open, snow-free country. The hills here are riddled with dangerous mines and a lot of collapsing shafts like this one in the distance over Dave's head:

If you fall in, the state can always claim, "Don't say we didn't warn you:"

We cut over the top of the ridge on our way back to the truck, encountering a little snow in the trees along the top. This is new, sheets of wire mesh bolted into a steep rockface, probably to protect the home on private property below us from a tumbling boulder:

This is a "shoulder season:" good snowfree hiking in the hills along the riverbottoms, but there's still good cross-country skiing on the hills above town:

And it's about time to wade into a local river for some early spring troutfishing. Next week?

Spring Full Moon Campout: Hell's Canyon, Jefferson River

2011-03-24T15:03:00.001-06:00

Happy Skywatch Friday! Hope you enjoy some of these views from southwest Montana in the Northern Rocky Mountains.

My friend Dave & I usually do our spring campout in the lower Big Hole River country around Notchbottom. This year, we moved down the valley a bit to Hell's Canyon of the Jefferson River (the Big Hole is a major tributary to the Jeff). The area is south of our home in Butte, Montana, on the other side of the Highland Mountains that also mark the Continental Divide. From Butte, we see Table Mountain as a lower peak behind the more prominent (looking from the north) Red Mountain. But Table Mtn is actually the tallest peak in the Highlands, and here's a view from our campsite:

The area is dotted with outcrops of the Boulder Batholith. Here's a view of a couple of boulders framing Table Mtn:

Look closely and the granite is studded with feldspar phenocrysts. They are harder than the granite matrix, which weathers away leaving a nice non-slip surface for hiking and climbing:

It's high sagebrush desert without the snow blanketing the hills around Butte and with an abundance of prickly pear cactus:

Here's a view of an outcrop on a ridge above camp as we settled in for the evening:

And waited for the moon to rise above that same ridge:

The wind blew hard up the canyon but we found a somewhat protected place to build a hot fire fed with mountain mahogany ( Cercocarpus ledifolius)--an excellent fuel that made nice coals over which to grill two big moose steaks. Here's Dave enjoying the fire:

As it grew dark, flocks of geese honked and barked overhead, migrating by moonlight. The wind blew and it grew cold, and sometime toward dawn some passing clouds dropped a skiff of snow:

I was glad I'd pitched my tent on the lee side of a boulder that blocked the icy wind:

After breakfast, we dropped into a wash, and crossed the canyon. We found out why it has that name--near the creek, the canyon walls are steep and choked with brush as this view from the bottom shows:

We saw the usual herds of mule deer and elk, though none close enough for a good photo. A pair of golden eagles must be nesting in the area, and several times they passed by, riding the thermals from ridges on either side of the canyon:

The dogs amused themselves with an array of found objects along the way. MollyTheDog says of this deer skull, "Alas poor Yorick, I knew him well:"

While JackTheDog says, "He ain't got a leg to stand on:"

Not surprisingly, a spring blizzard swept through Butte as we arrived back in town. Oh well, the cross country skiing at The Moulton will be good for another week or so.

Skwatch Friday: Still Winter!

2011-03-11T14:49:00.001-07:00

Though I have days when I'm ready to be rid of snow (see No Snow Hike), the cross country skiing is the best it's been all season on the trails just a few miles north from my home in Walkerville, Montana. The views are also great, as shown by two morning shots looking west from a favorite spot where a rocky outcrop frames the clouds and Pintler Mountain Range:

Although it's been comparatively warm (c. 20 deg F in the morning), the sky to the north still shows that deep, clear blue of a below-zero winter day (seen here over the abandoned horse barn near Moulton Reservoir):

With the waning crescent moon (small prey moves around less on bright nights) and firm snow surface, the Mouse People have been very active at night. Growing up, I always heard that March marked the beginning of mouse mating season when the "bull mice" travel long distances to find a mate (or, as in this case, a morsel of food):

But Death Comes From Above:

Sometimes with a bit of a round-and-around struggle:

I'll take spring when it comes, but for now, I'll just keep skiing.

-------------------------------------------------
The Moulton: Montana's finest classic cross country ski trails, just 5 miles north of Butte.

A Hike in No Snow: Jefferson River, SW Montana

2011-03-11T14:48:00.000-07:00

I like snow. Really. It's good for tracking, playing with the dog, photography, rolling naked in as you leap from the hot tub, and of course cross country skiing. But it's a lot like pie. I like blackberry pie. In season. At some point, you switch over to apple.

So Sunday found friend Dave Carter and I seeking out the dry hills along the Jefferson River. What a contrast from the 4-foot deep glacier in my backyard! Turning up the side-of-a-side road (A Guthrie, "Alice's Restaurant"), first thing we saw was this bald eagle below its nest:

That and huge sheets of ice from a recent jam that threatened a 10-mile swath of homes along the river:

The area is geologically interesting, with the usual Boulder Batholith features like these hoodoos:

And some interesting, grainy rock that looked very much like petrified wood:

As we hiked along a long ridge and gained some elevation, the sky cleared a bit to reveal striking views of the broad Jefferson River valley, down:

And up:

Also on that ridge, a lone tree, a graceful Limber Pine (Pinus flexilis) shown here with Dave & dogs:

Like its cousin the Whitebark Pine, Limbers' have clusters of 5 needles, though they are shorter:

Whereas the cones are more elongate:

Molly- and Jack-The-Dog had their own amusement with some mule deer legs that appeared to be the recent remains from a poacher's work:

They took turns playing carry (and covet)-the-bone for the next mile or more:

We hiked up a ridge over the canyon until we were tired, ate some lunch, hiked some more, and found our way back to the truck. Dropping down to follow a road back we were surprised by the miles we had covered, and that is one of the great joys of hiking with Dave. No watch, no map, no set destination or time to return: the day unfolds as it will, our feet following a deer trail, our hearts following the call note of a Townsend's Solitaire.

Avenue Q comes to Butte America

2011-03-09T17:52:00.001-07:00

Jan & I have for many years subscribed to season tickets for the theater series at Butte Montana's Mother Lode Theatre. It's a grand old 1,200-seat theater, built in 1923 and restored in 1996:

The musical Avenue Q was in town this week. It's a remarkable show--see it if you can. All the themes of the late-boomer/Sesame Street generation are there, including racism, being gay and out, homelessness, unemployment, and our search for purpose.

Think of it as a grown up version of Sesame Street, with all the disillusionment that comes with growing up as well as the continuing search for fulfillment (yes "purpose," as the show puts it!). Here's the cast (note that some of the human actors have changed):

The traveling troupe includes several outstanding talents such as Ashley Eileen Bucknam. She sang an amazing (and breathtaking, at our 6,000 foot elevation) solo duet (?) between the young, coming-of-age teacher Kate Monster (shown here):

And the sexy, temptress showgirl Lucy:

Here are a few YouTube clips of Ave Q productions to check out:
"Everyone's a little bit racist"
"The internet is for porn"
"Sucks to be me"

To those of you in, ah, more urban areas, Avenue Q is old news. To those of us in the hinterland, however, it's, well, like seeing it for the first time!

[Disclaimer: except for the theatre pic, the images on this post are from various Ave Q publicity sites]