Beartooth Highway

We left Dillon on Monday, July6, heading for Red Lodge in south-central Montana.

Two primary stops on the way: 1. Three Forks State Park, to see the three rivers that form the headwaters of the Missouri River, and 2. Bozeman, to have lunch with and visit with an Oklahoma State U. classmate of mine, Ken Tiahrt, and his wife, Nancy.

Ken spent his statistical career at Montana State University, many of those years as head of the department of statistics and other things, I believe, like math education. We've seen each other briefly at statistical meetings over the mere 42 years since we graduated, but this was a great opportunity to spend a relaxed couple of hours chatting about families and interests. Turns out we both have interests in old cars and the highways they ran on. We both have families, also.

The reason for going to Red Lodge is the nearby Beartooth All American Highway. The Beartooth All-American Road is on most lists of scenic drives in America and was christened America’s Most Beautiful Highway by Charles Kuralt, the man for all roads. It’s everything it’s cracked up to be. Even with all the hype, for us it exceeded expectations.

A series of long switch-backs (starting on the North side from Red Lodge, MT) gets you to the top and then you drive along on top for a quite a few miles, crossing into Wyoming in the process. Gorgeous scenery all around. Lots of good pull-outs. You feel like you’re soaring at eye-level with the surrounding mountains.

Some pictures:

As you can see, we had a beautiful day for the drive.

Up in the area of the preceding picture we saw vehicles and a lift line for the Red Lodge Summer Ski and Snowboard Camp. Also saw some skiers returning from a workout.

I show the waiting snow plow for a reason. I read some Red Lodge history in the library today. Way back in 1893 local residents and businessmen started lobbying Congress for funds to build this road. They confidently claimed that it would be possible to find a 'natural' route up and over (to Yellowstone NP) that could be kept free of snow year-round. There were still such claims when the road was approved in 1931, started in '32, and completed in '36. Well, the road has never been open more than about three months of the year. This spring it opened on May 23.

At the top (10, 947 ft.) we discussed our options: Turn around and return to Red Lodge. Go part way down the Wyoming side, then turn around and return to Red Lodge. Go on down the Wyoming side to where the Beartooth Highway connects with the Chief Joseph Scenic Highway, take that highway down and then on to Cody, WY, then return to Red Lodge via the low-altitude highway – thereby completing roughly a 150 mile loop. We chose the last option and were glad we did. The Wyoming side had different scenery and Chief Joseph has a pretty nice highway himself. And we really enjoyed the Buffalo Bill Historical Center in Cody (hat tip to friend, Dick Reinert). We had thought we'd go to Cody directly the next day.

The terrain coming down the Wyoming side of the Beartooth Highway featured lots of alpine lakes. For some reason I didn't stop and get a picture. Here's one from the internet.

If I put any more in this posting, Blogger might gag, so I'll cover the remainder of our outing in a separate posting.

Cheers,

Susie and Rob

Lewis and Clark - 3

While in the Dillon vicinity we visited some Lewis and Clark “Historic Points,” as the road signs say. Then when we left Dillon on Monday we drove northeast about 70 miles to the Headwaters of the Missouri State Park, near the town of Three Rivers. Our travel is the reverse of the L&C outward trek. I’ll summarize and show some pictures in the L&C sequence.


The Missouri originates where three rivers come together in a remarkable confluence. I tried to find a good aerial view but couldn't. If you use Google Earth, go to Three Forks, Montana and take a look from above.

Here’s my riverbank view.

The explorers named these three rivers, from east to west (left to right above), for their leading supporters: the Gallatin (Sec. of Treasury), Madison (Sec. of State), and Jefferson Rivers. In this picture, the Gallatin is coming from the left, the Madison straight at you, just left of center, and the Jefferson from the right.

Apparently there was some discussion of whether they should call the largest branch the continuation of the Missouri, instead of designating it with a different name. I don't know the protocol, but their designation stuck. They went up the Jefferson to where it was created by the confluence of the Beaverhead, Big Hole, and Ruby Rivers, then took the Beaverhead on south. That river runs through the valley in which Dillon is situated.


North of Dillon about 15 miles is this prominent rock that the Indians called Beaver Head. (The guidebook says you have to look at it from one particular angle, from which it looks like a beaver swimming toward you.) It was a common gathering point. The Corps was looking for the Shoshone, Sacajawea’s tribe, needing to buy horses to continue west when they could no longer use boats. At this point, Lewis and a lead party were scouting ahead; Clark was nursing an injury ("a tumer on my anckle musle") and coming behind with the boats.

Here, Sacagawea tells Lewis and Clark, I told you this was the right way.

At the north edge of Dillon is this little promontory called Clark’s Lookout. From this knob, Clark had a good view of the valley. He took compass and sextant readings and sketched a map. Our National Geographic guidebook says this is one place you can be sure you’re standing exactly where Clark stood. That’s cool.

Here’s my re-enactment:


Caption: Where’s Meriwether?

About a mile south of Clark's Lookout the Beaverhead runs by the KOA site. Who knows, maybe Clark and company camped there, too. Nice Kabins available.

After another four days of slogging up the Beaverhead, still looking for Lewis, still needing to trade their boats for horses, the Clark party was 20 miles south of Dillon. There, with some trepidation, they encountered an Indian party. Then they recognized one of Lewis’s party dressed in Indian garb– they had caught up with Lewis.

People gathered. One of the Shoshone women recognized Sacagawea. As she was translating, Sacagawea recognized a Shoshone chief as her brother! (You can't make this stuff up.) Lewis, ranging out ahead, had encountered a Shoshone tribe and convinced them to come back to the Beaverhead valley, bringing horses that the Corps needed desperately to buy. It worked out: guns and ammo for horses.

History says this was one of the most critical points in the expedition. L&C recognized that and named the meeting location, Fortunate Camp.

The Fortunate Camp site is now covered by the Clark Reservoir -- about halfway out to this island.

So, our trip up portions of the Missouri and its tributaries, retracing Lewis and Clark, ends where they finally stashed their boats and headed on west overland. It's been fun and also sobering to focus on what their expedition accomplished. Hope you enjoyed this part of our Tuzi-trip.

Cheers,

Susie and Rob

Dillon Wrap

As I noted in previous posting, we attended church Sunday morning. Was really a pleasant experience. The preacher was away in Los Angeles attending seminary for the summer. Her sub was her husband. He had a friendly, natural air about him. At the beginning he had people shaking hands and getting acquainted. Then he said, we’re ready for the prelude now. The pianist said, Well, I hope I’m ready. She did a fine job, I thought. The worship leader got up to read scripture and he said, I only heard a couple of mistakes. The man in front of us turned and said, That’s her husband. And so it went.

Mr. Preacher did have a very good communion Sunday sermon. The symbolism: By taking symbols representing Jesus into us, we are saying we want to be more like Him. This realization came late for him, after he was already a preacher’s husband, but pretty uninterested in the whole communion thing. One Sunday, a voice told him, Go forward for communion. Changed his life.

The man in front of us was a retired minister - ancient, but strong in voice. He ran the communion service his way because he had the authority to do so.

We thought it was unusual for a husband to be subbing for his preacher wife. It was even more unusual. She had just been assigned to the church in Dillon; previously they were in far NW Montana, 350 miles away. He still has a business there, so he was commuting from back and forth to Dillon. Don’t know if it was every weekend or not.

After the service they had snacks and more social time. We stayed – food. A couple sat down across from us and we started visiting. We learned that they were responsible for this notable house across from the park where we heard bluegrass Saturday night. They spent 11 years restoring it. When they started it had been divided into five apartments, so they had a lot of work to do to return it to something like its original configuration. Their family grew up and they decided to sell it. Didn’t want to have to paint it a second time, he said.

He worked at the university in Dillon (Montana University Western, it’s called), in computing; she’s been doing volunteer work since the kids grew up. He also said he’s a published humorist. We didn’t get their last name, but plan on tracing it down and finding some of his writing, if possible.

Sunday afternoon we drove about 40 miles SW to Bannack State Park, a preserved ghost town. This was the first gold rush town in the state and was territorial capital for a short while before the gold activity to Virginia City moved the capital there. (I think it’s interesting that commerce came into the territory along gold rush lines, rather than the Missouri River trading route of Lewis and Clark. )

Here are a few Bannack pictures. No ice cream shops here.

This building was originally the courthouse, then became a rooming house and hotel.

The Bannack Methodist Church -- the only church in town.

The school and the school-marm's reaction.

Ho, hum. Another beautiful roadside scene on the way back to town.

Wrapping up our stay in Dillon: the county courthouse,

and, to complete things properly, a couple of barns in the area.



Cheers,

Susie and Rob

Dillon and Ennis

While we were in Glacier NP I had targeted Dillon, in SW Montana, for our next destination. The spot where Lewis and Clark abandoned their boats and bought horses to get them over the mountains and eventually to the Columbia River is near here. Also, I had googled Montana Fourth of July parades and found Ennis, only about 70 scenic miles from Dillon. Its parade and rodeo have a long tradition.

We get to the Dillon KOA Friday afternoon, then head for Ennis first thing Saturday morning. Stopped to buy gas for the Cruiser and find I'm missing my American Express credit card. I thought I had tried to use it (but got rejected as occasionally happens - small businesses don't like what AmEx charges them for the privilege) at the local IGA, so we checked back there. Nope. Went back to Tuzi, checked the pockets of pants I had worn previous day. Nope. Tried to call AmEx, but number on back of card didn't lead to customer service. We figured it had to be somewhere in Tuzigoot so we went on to Ennis.

To finish the credit card story now, once we got home, in mid-afternoon, I got the AmEx customer service number from the website and called to put a 24 hr. hold on the card. Asked service rep for latest charges. Nothing since Friday at Flying J in Butte - a legitimate charge. Hmm, maybe I left it there. Called Flying J and sure enough they had my card. Fortunately, Butte is just an hour from Dillon and I had time to drive up and back in time to finish our glorious fourth at a bluegrass/country concert in the Dillon park. Here's a picture of the scenery along I-15.

Meanwhile, at Ennis, we set up our lawnchairs by the parade route. En route, here's a view of the valley in which Ennis is situated. Nice day for clouds.

Parade was fun, and provided ample people-watching entertainment, but, frankly, I was a little bit disappointed. Not much music. In particular, no marching band. A couple of bagpipe bands doing Scottish tunes, a truck and wagon sponsored by a local watering hole that was playing the theme from Gilligan's Island, and that was it! Nevertheless, for your viewing enjoyment:

Main action in Ennis was downtown, two blocks from where we were set up. Restaurants, shops, and bars all doing big business. After the parade we joined the throng and strolled up and back, then went back to a barbecue restaurant near where we had parked. Turned out to be sitting at an outdoor table with the parents of and wife of the restaurant owner (actually, husband and wife own it together and also a pizza shop in town; parents came from Minnesota-three grandkids to see). Just bought these properties a few months ago. We had a good lunch and visit.

The road from Dillon to Ennis goes through Virginia City, a restored mining town, once the territorial capital of Montana. We were reading historical descriptions of one block of houses and I decided to take a look at one the governor had lived in. I pushed open the front door and walked in. A startled couple jumped from their living room chairs as I walked into their private residence. They acted like people make that mistake all the time and they insisted that I look through the house.

Some other Virginia City scenes.

This intriguing building was down the road a short distance on private property, so we couldn't learn its story.

We topped off our glorious fourth with ice cream in Virginia City, bluegrass music in Dillon, and fireworks on TV.

Cheers,

Susie and Rob

O Beautiful

O Beautiful for Spacious Skies

For amber waves of grain

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain.

America!

America!

God shed His grace on thee

And crown thy good with brotherhood


From sea to shining sea.

This song led off the service Sunday, July 5, at Grace United Methodist Church in Dillon, Montana. As we sang it these images from our trip came to mind (but I had to go back a year to California for the sea to shining sea line).

Happy Independence Day!

Susie and Rob

p.s. For the story behind the song, please see this website.

Butte

Update. Can't believe it. Someone who has written a book on the death of Meriwether Lewis came upon our blog posting on the topic and made a comment.


On our way south we stopped Friday morning in Butte - referred to in the Wikipedia entry as once being the "world's greatest mining town," site of the "world's richest hill." At various stages, gold, silver, and copper have been produced from that hill in great amounts. The Moon Handbook on Montana, our guide book, says it's Montana's "most representative city." Couldn't pass it up.

Here's a view of the city I found on the web. Nice location, ringed by mountains, scenic valleys radiating out from Butte.

Butte Hill is to the left of this picture. You can see the remaining active copper pit mine at the left of the picture.

We went to the visitor center and caught a trolley (open-air bus) tour. While we were waiting to depart a couple of trolley employees were telling us stories. Said we had a good driver - just completed his parole. Butte was getting ready for its big July 4th parade. Last year, Barack Obama came. They talked about the heightened security and how that clashed with Butte's gun-totin', knife-carryin' way of life. Said they had to take the gun racks out of the trolley.

Our driver (with whom Susie could identify) was a second-grade teacher, working his summer "vacation" to make ends meet. He was a Butte native and after a few summers spent sweeping streets decided that driving a trolley would be more fun.

By the way, Evel Knievel was a Butte native. They have a festival in his honor every summer.

We started at the Berkeley Pit, an abandoned copper pit-mine. It's gradually filling with water (seepage from the surrounding mountains that was pumped out when the mine was operating, but now it is not). The water is about 900 ft. deep, and rising, and is rather contaminated. If it rises much more it will become a threat to the city's water supply, so plans are being made to pump it out, decontaminate it, and pipe it to a suitable site. We're in the middle of some of the world's hottest trout streams, so I'm sure they will be very careful .

Here's the 'headframe' for an old mine. They lowered miners, equipment, and burros down into the mines, and brought up ore, using these structures.

After this mining introduction we drove around on Old Butte streets. Lots of interesting buildings and stories.

In 1917 90,000 people lived on the hill. Now the city, much of which has moved down onto the flats because the Berkeley Pit took a big chunk of town, has a population of 32,000. There were 2000 miles of mine tunnels perforating the hill. Old Butte was a legendarily wild place. Today things seemed deserted. Maybe it was because many businesses and offices were closed July 3.

Butte has a bordello museum. It was open.

Quick! How many dummies in this picture? I had heard that the girls would be butte-nekkid, but at least on the porch, they weren't.

Here's a sampling of Butte buildings, shot from a moving bus.

These identical (miror-image) houses, connected by a breezeway, were built for two sisters.

Somewhere on the itinerary were Teddy Roosevelt's favorite hotel and favorite theater.


The most famous house in Butte is the Copper King Mansion, shown here in a picture I found on the internet (my drive-by attempt was too tilted and off-center).


After all this history and scenery, though, what really got our attention was this:

We've had Grandma's Pasties before, in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, but we think Nancy topped Grandma. (Our trolley driver pointed out Nancy's to us and we found our way back.) Pasties are miner's food: meat, potatoes, onion, and spices, all in a thick pastry shell -- for eating by hand. Nancy's were huge, swimming in dark brown gravy.

A young couple with a teen-age son came in (the serving area was six stools at a counter). They were from Seattle. Dad said he used to eat pasties at Nancy's every day, 21 years ago. First time back in Butte since then, just had to stop at Nancy's. When the son saw our pasties delivered, he said, Can you get anything smaller? It's as big as a chicken! (I was thinking in terms of a catcher mitt). When our pasties were served, we said, Why didn't we split one? Who knew how big they would be -- for only $6!

After the lad had taken a few bites of his pasty he said, Wow, this was really worth stopping for. (Who says today's youth don't appreciate history.) Kept murmuring his pleasure as he ate.

Nancy's pasties is our commercial gastronomic highlight so far. Given a choice, I'd have to say the walleye that Jeff and Valerie Hinkle served us would be my first choice, overall. And you couldn't beat the price.

Cheers,

Susie and Rob