Skywatch Friday: A Coyote Tale, as told by the Whiskeyjack People

When I stop for lunch or a handful of gorp while hiking, I always leave some food for the Whiskeyjack People (from the Algonquian wiskedjak; aka Gray Jays). These cheery souls have several times led me to bedded elk -- they like to feast on the entrails -- so I stay on good terms with these Trickster People. As I stopped for a pot of tea and a nap while on a hike along the Continental Divide in the upper Big Hole River valley near Butte, Montana (see previous post), they told me this story:

Sun rose in a clear, blue sky. Soon the day became very warm. The Bear, Red Squirrel and Blue Grouse People were very happy as they watched Whitebark Pine's cones (full of tasty pine nuts) ripen:

Bull Elk Person was not happy. Warm Sun made the flies active and they were biting the shit out of him. Shamefully he wallowed in mud, soiling his beautiful blond coat (photo of elk wallow):

Coyote saw this and went around telling all the other People what a miserable bastard Sun was to make Bull Elk suffer so. Sun heard this and was shamed. He raised moist air from the valleys and it formed puffy clouds as it moved over the mountains:

By sunset, the clouds were big and rain fell:

As the air became moist and dark, the Mosquito People danced their war dance and came forth. They bit the shit out of Coyote, but all the People just laughed. Sun laughed so hard that soon the showers passed and a rainbow lit up the sky (with my neighbor's horses guarding the pot of gold):

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All of these photos were taken in a single day. The first three while on a hike (see previous post), and the last two after returning home to Walkerville (near Butte).

Hiking the Montana Hills

No time this week for a backpacking trek, but there's always time for a day in the hills. I've often looked at, but never visited, a little (9,100 feet or so) peak along the Continental Divide that overlooks my favorite elk hunting spot, a ridge where I've killed four or five bulls over the years (view of "Elk Mountain" from "Richard Peak"):

After an hour plus of driving on a bad Forest Service road (we had to stop and use the bow saw to clear the route of blowdown a few times), MollyTheDog and I were happy to be hiking. It's late summer. Lewis's Monkeyflower (Mimulus lewisii) is giving us a last hurrah:

In the meadows, the False Hellebore (Veratrum viride, a very poisonous plant--Indians used it as suicide medicine) is blooming:

As is the Elk Thistle (Cirsium scariosum, a native edible plant that was an important "starvation food" for lost explorers):

Butterflies are making the next generation before the Reaper takes care of the current one:


After visiting the peak and coursing along an arc of lower hills that leads to Elk Mountain, we were ready for lunch. With good timing, we crossed a meadow offering water and Bog Gentian (Gentiana calycosa, the iridoid glycosides and perhaps alkaloids in its leaves and roots make a delightful tea, if you like bitter concotions):

A pot of water set on a dingle stick to boil:

Lunch! Gentian tea (with green tea), bread, and cheese:

A pleasant nap, listening to the Whiskey Jack People (aka Gray Jays) tell a story (see subsequent SkyWatch post), and we were ready for the hike back to the truck.

Seattle, Washington: U.S. Open Swimming and more

Mrs ER & I spent the past week at the Weyerhauser Aquatic Center in Federal Way (greater Seattle) to see daughter Emily Munday swim in the U.S. Open Championships.

As all swim parents will attest, swim meets are mostly downtime--reading a good book or chatting with other parents between events. Emily's main event was the 100-meter butterfly. She was seeded 88th (out of 104 swimmers) and finished 33rd -- winning her heat -- with a time of 1:01.70:

Here's Emily (top of screen, Lane 7) approaching the flags in the first half of the race:

Olympian Elaine Breeden took gold in the event. Also swimming at this meet was Olympian Jessica Hardy, who set new world records in both the 100-meter and 50-meter breaststroke.

All that pool time demands good food. We found an excellent Elliott Bay Brew Pub nearby, with healthy food such as giant bread pretzels:

And mussels:

For the non-swimmers among us, Elliott's also has a superb selection of outstanding beers. The Hell Mouth IPA, Black IPA, Salmon Bay Bitter, and barrel aged Bourbon Stout got especially high marks (we ate at Elliott's several times, so these were not all consumed at one sitting!):

On a pleasant walking trail near the pool, Mrs ER and I found acres-and-acres of dense blackberry thickets:

Loaded with lush tasty berries:

We had one idle afternoon for a delightful walk on nearby Des Moines Beach. We combed the beach for interesting masses of kelp:

And searched the tidal pools:

Finding lots of lively little crabs:

On our trip to the city (Seattle's Pioneer Square/Pike Place Market area), we enjoyed street musicians and artists (no urban scene is complete without its Baloon Guy):

Cool public art like this statue of Christopher Columbus:

The fish market:

And a celebratory meal at Elliott's Oyster House (great food, even though the tip was higher than our bill at the brew pub!)--one of the best selections of tasty oysters we have ever experienced:

Coolest Car in greater Seattle? That award goes to Assistant Coach Jen Strasburger for her mint VW Beetle convertible--in her family since it was new:


As always, it's good to be home. Later this week, I'll go back on mountain time (without a watch)...

Skywatch Friday: A looming Gallows Frame

The Original Mine "gallows frame" silhouetted against an evening sky.

Butte, Montana (aka "Butte America") was a hardrock copper mining town. Underground mining was a tough way of life: if a roof fall (called a "Duggan" after the local funeral parlor) didn't get you, "miner's con" (miner's consumption, or silicosis) might. As yet another expression of the dark humor that pervaded underground culture, miners often referred to the headframes (100-foot+ tall steel structures used to lift ore and men) as "gallows frames." Butte has a strong historic preservation movement that began 30 years ago with saving a dozen or so headframes as cultural monuments.

History and the environmental cost of modern technology are a part of everyday life in Butte. I've come to love my adopted town because of this honest acceptance of our Faustian bargain. Maybe we can even learn from it.

Lost Creek State Park near Anaconda, Montana

Years ago when daughter Emily was small, Mrs ER & I would visit nearby Lost Creek State Park. Let's go again. Maybe we'll see Big Horn Sheep or Rocky Mountain Goats on the sheer cliff walls:

And we will certainly feel the cooling spray from the waterfall on a hot afternoon:

Stroll up the trail that leads to through the canyon. Beware the deadly poisonous (but oh, so lovely) Baneberry (Actaea rubra):

Enjoy a small handful of tasty (but tiny) Grouse Whortleberry fruits (Vaccinium scoparium):

Admire the delicate symmetry of a Twinflower (Linnaea borealis):

And a Twinberry (Lonicera utahensis; no relation to the above)

The elegance of a Showy Fleabane bloom (Erigeron speciosus):

And the nodding flowers of Pink Pyrola (Pyrola asarifolia):

All too soon, we hiked back down to the campground, made a dinner of grilled antelope sausages and fresh corn, and called it a day.

A Mine Dump Mystery in Butte, Montana

Thanks to Superfund, a lot of environmental remediation (aka "cleanup") is underway on the Butte hill. To the west and north, however, lies a separate Superfund site that has not yet been addressed. This area is behind my home in Walkerville, and includes a lot of mine dumps (mill tailings, overburden, etc).

Walking past this particular dump, I heard water flowing. "Hmmm, that's new," I thought, "Where might it be coming from?"

You have to be careful where you enter the area. The "official" entrance to the Ryan Mine is gated and posted "No Trespassing." It doesn't say not to shoot the sign, however. Also, as Woody Guthrie pointed out, "And on the other side, it didn't say nothing. This land was made for you and me" (click for song; Seeger & Springstein version at the Obama inauguration):

There were also pools of water near the soil storage area that ARCO-BP's contractors are using to cover-up (instead of clean-up) toxic waste on the Butte Hill. Without the gate, soil-hungry residents would no doubt make short work of this top soil:

Interestingly enough, ARCO-BP has also fenced the old Ryan Mine building. Are they trying to preserve this graffiti as an historical artifact?

Back to the mystery. I hiked around the tailings from where the water is flowing, and found a larger pool of water. Getting warmer, or at least wetter:

Mystery solved, I think. The large, round structure (on the left, below) is a new water storage tank that Butte-Silver Bow government is building for tap water coming from the Moulton Reservoir. The workers must be releasing some excess water, or else they have one hell of a leak:

Even on these most toxic of mine dumps, life asserts itself. At first I wondered what this strange plant and flower buds were:

But some were in bloom. Oh yeah, Blazing Star (Mentzelia laevicaulis):

I don't know our native grasses very well, but love the soft heads of Foxtail Grass and the way it bends light:

Foxtail Grass closeup:

These I know, too. Needle and Thread Grass, aptly named for the irritating, barbed (and sometimes spirally threaded!) seeds that burrow into clothing, dog hair, and hide:

A mystery hike deserves a mystery flower. Not a clue what this beauty might be:

Well, mine mystery solved and morning hike over, I headed back to the house as Mrs ER & I had a picnic planned for a local state park.