This year, Butte ex-patriots Brent & Karina & their two kids arrived early and held down some choice spots. The rest of the gang rolled in throughout the day Friday, and -- bless Brent & Karina -- sat down to a supper of shrimp in alfredo sauce over noodles.
Usually, we plan this campout for Labor Day, but what with daughter Emily heading back to college before then and complications in other folk's schedules, we moved things up a bit.
There were lots of smoke plumes from various local forest fires visible on the drive to the lake, so we did not expect the air to be very clear (smoke from the fire is at the vanishing perspective point for the road):
We were suprised when we got to the lake and found sunny skies at the finest sandy beach in Montana:
What would a group campout be without a one-canoe "Polish" (Ouch. Sorry, Schahczenskis!) paddling contest among the teenage girls?:
Or a rainstorm that forces Brent & Karina to scramble their plans for a lake tour?:
Those girls might not know how to paddle a canoe, but they do know how to create art. Here are artists Katy (an exchange student from the Czech Republic) and Michelle (of YouTube video fame--see "President Bush Grills an Endangered Species" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wASzy-ikmYA):
And what a beautiful sand sculpture horse, waiting for wind and waves to teach us all a humble lesson in the empheral nature of our own existence:
The local bald eagle, too, had something to teach us about patience (and catching fish). "America's symbol," someone told Katy. "Do they eat Iraqis?," someone else asked. Or Bushes?
The "men's hike" (well, we did invite the women folk) took us over by Frog Pond. That's AJ striking a contemplative pose along the shore:
It's an apt name:
Well, maybe we should begin calling it "Lee's UV-Bar Lake?" Someone must have thought a lot of old Lee, and I hope his spirit is still around. Brent, Don, Dave, and AJ agree:
Celia brought this great birthday cake:
And here are the two birthday girls, Emily and Kenia, with brother Adler (the famous crackshot with a Red Ryder BB gun) on the right:
Appropriately enough, the weather turned cold and rainy as we pulled up to the house in Walkerville and began unloading the camping gear. It feels like the end of summer, and it would be nice to cool the fires. Whatever happens, we all have great memories to carry us over to next year's rendezvous:
And a closeup:
According to Sally Campbell, Under the Shadow of Mt Haggin (Deer Lodge County History Group, 1975), the building cost about $100,000, is 110 feet high, and the interior frescoes (sorry, I should have went inside and got pics of them) were painted by Consolidated Artists of Milwaukee.
Well, back to the courthouse in Anaconda. The quarry proved to be close by--just a long rifleshot from the courthouse:
Here's Dave posed above the quarry rim; I tried to get him to back up a little for the photo, but he would not:
Within the quarry, there is a lot of very soft and easily weathered stone exposed, but next to it is some very hard, solid sandstone that looks to be courthouse material:
The quarry proved a bit of a disappointment. It has eroded greatly over the past century or so, and there was no sign of waste rock or how the rock was cut and hauled. There do not seem to be other buildings in Anaconda built of this material, so perhaps the quarry operated only for the courthouse.
With some cool details:
Most surpising of all, perhaps, is that the monument seems to be made of the same sort of sandstone as the courthouse.
And this native blazing star:
Should we love the blazing star, and hate the knapweed? Well, in their place, all species are beautiful. So yes, love the natives. But there is not much use in hating the exotics: many, like knapweed and rainbow trout, are here to stay. And all have their virtues. Live with it, at least in cases where native species are not endangered.
Though the weather has been seasonal of late with 80 deg F days and 40 deg F nights at 6,000 feet elevation in Butte, we still opted for an early morning start. It's not a long (c. 8 miles) nor especially steep (c. 2500 foot elevation gain) hike, but it is nice to travel in the cool of the day. While stashing a few beers in the creek near the Fishtrap Creek trailhead for the ride home, I discovered this Pine Marten set constructed by some fur trapper:
Mornings are also active critter time, and we busted some elk from where the trail crosses a big wet meadow, and the dogs nosed into several spruce grouse (aka fool hens, for their habit of sitting in a tree just a few feet away). The grouse were feeding on grouse whortleberry and grasshoppers--both are numerous this year:
We also came across a lot of "doodlebug" or antlion pits, including this exceptional colony:
If I were an ant living in this area, I'd want to be named Daniel. Even in the wilderness, there are some historical tracks of a working landscape, such as this irrigation ditch that moves water many miles from the headwater diversion:
Our first day in, we rested through the heat of the afternoon and then hiked above treeline to Lost Lakes where Don spotted a group of 6 or 7 goats working their way along the ridge to the left of the lower lake, and we took in the fantastic view:
The area's height and location help in capturing a lot of snow. Even in the driest and hottest of summers, the big snow cornice along Saddle Ridge lasts all summer long, as does the glacier along the upper lake. Yes, it is a true glacier, and the only one in the Pintler, according to Don Nyquist, a National Weather Service observer, meteorologist, and Anaconda resident. Don says a key characteristic that makes this a glacier is the formation of firn--"the metamorphic layer of dense, granular snow between the accumulation area (new snow) and glacial land ice." Here's a photo of the upper lake and its glacier (West Goat Peak is on the far right of the snow cornice just below the ridge):
The approach to West Goat Peak is very pleasant with very little scree (as Pintler peak bagging goes). Here's Don picking his way along the ridge, with the fantastic vertical goat cliffs on his right:
Chooka and RTD did a lot of goat- & pika-sniffing on the way up, and once on the summit they were content to rest. Here's the pup, with Warren Peak in the background (easily bagged from Edith Lake):
The morning haze from our numerous local forest fires thickened throughout the day. With clear air, the distant views from W Goat are tremendous, but even the "close" view of the alpine meadow leading down to Lost Lakes is pretty sweet:
Just as we finished supper that evening, a big thunderstorm swept through. This is why I prefer to camp down in the timber, and not on the barren ground around Lost Lakes. As RTD and I lay in the tent watching through the vestibule door as lightning flashed and crashed, I took a moment to appreciate the difference between Pink Mountain Heath (Phyllodoce empetriformis):
And Merten's Mountain Heather (Cassiope mertensiana):
These lovely evergreen species carpet much of the Pintler high country, along with other familiar species such as Alpine Gentians (Gentiana calycosa), the leaves of which make a tasty and mildly psychotropic tonic:
Though the flowers have faded, I also like the Elk Thistle (Cirsium foliosum):
From home today, I took a morning walk to Big Butte before spending a few hours laying rock on the new retaining wall in the backyard. The smoke was not too bad, and I could just make out East Goat Peak, Saddle Mountain, and West Goat Peak through the fire haze. Already, the good memory of West Goat Peak is getting me through another year. 
Hmmm... What's been going on with the trees in this area?
Emily brings a naturalist's eye and a sense of fresh wonder to the world. I hike along, notice "False Hellbore," and pass on. Emily says, "Hey, look at these ants tending their aphid herd;" and, "Hey, look at the gentians!" Gentians are not as common here as in some Pintler basins. When abundant, we gather a handful of leaves for a deliciously bitter tea:
Along the creek connecting the various lakes are meadows of bright summer wildflowers, something in the aster/sunflower family, I think:
They are good butterfly food for the seasonally abundant Fritillaries (Speyeria sp?) and Milbert's (?) Tortoiseshell (Nymphalidae sp?). I'm no entomologist, let alone Lepidoptera specialist, so I'm guessing the names here (see 
As a beautiful place, is it too much to ask for fellow hikers to pick up their own trash? Does the concept, "Pack it in, pack it out" mean anything to yous guys?
The lakes provide excellent fishing, thanks to the aerial stocking effort of FWP, and to some natural reproduction in the lake inlets. We caught a few for supper, though the weather front & wind that moved in made casting miserable. Here's a mayfly looking for a rest, and a friendly hand:
Emily had packed in her fins, snorkel, and wetsuit, but the weather just wasn't conducive to it. What began as another hot, sunny day began changing in the late morning. At first, we thought maybe it was just the haze building from the many forest fires in the area. However, by noon the clouds were heavy, the wind picked up, and we were glad for our polarfleece or wool shirt. Glad to see the weather moderate: by the time we arrived home, c. 7 pm, it began raining and continued much of the night. This week's weather is predicted to be seasonally normal: highs of about 80 deg or so; overnight lows in the low-40s. 'Bout time.
The fishing is especially good from about 9 a.m. until noon, after which one shouldn't fish anyway, given that the water is warming up by then and being caught & released can cause lethal stress on a trout. The fish have not been running especially large -- mostly 10 to 14 inches or so -- but there are lots of them, both browns and 'bows. Some of the largest fish are in very shallow water, which makes for an exciting initial run as you set up and they head for deeper water.
