Bleeping Traffic

Today was my move from my sister's to our daughter's.  I found what looked to be a really straight-forward route.  Ought to be a piece of cake, and bring me onto I-80 in the outside lane, ready to exit.

Oh what a cluster!  Somewhere north of San Rafael traffic got very thick.  I mean really heavy.  It was stop and creep.  I got off to get some gas so I wouldn't run out partway across the Richmond Bay Bridge.  I wanted to pee and get some food, but the vibe at the McDonald's and the A&W wasn't right and they were very crowded so I just got back on the freeway.  I got off the freeway at 6:05 and back on minutes later.  From there the traffic was terrible, even for the Bay Area.  At the end of a half hour I'd gone almost three miles.  At the end of an hour and 45 minutes I'd gone 5 miles.  What should have been a two hour drive (according to MapQuest) tuned into a five hour drive!

And the language!  There was one gal who was not happy about how long it was taking to merge, so she decided to make people get out of her way.  It's "bleeping merge?  Bleeping let people merge.  It's bleeping merge!"  I'm sure most of you can imagine the word I'm bleeping.  Then it turned out she didn't really want to just merge, she wanted to get from the outside incoming lane to the inside lane of a 3-4 lane freeway.  Once she bullied the first drive by hanging out the window and screaming at them, she plowed all the way across traffic.

I tend to be more laid back and will let the occasional driver in front of me.  I don't let in the ones who race to the end of the merge land, then insist on being in front of me.  I just "don't see" them.  Today I was yelled at.  I had windows down since it was actually cool once I got that far south.  A pickup with a horse trailer was pulling alongside on my left, people were waving, so I eased back to let them in.  With the windows down I could hear the driver behind me, and probably the passengers, too, yelling NO! at me.  Nothing they could do about it.  The were disgusted enough with me that they zoomed to the outer lane and got ahead of us.  I did not, however, let the companion truck and horse trailer in front of me.  One at a time is enough.

So, enough for tonight - enough traffic, enough hours in the drivers seat enough rude people.  I'm hoping tomorrow will be a smooth ride out of California, back toward Montana.

Patient cat

I've been at my sister's for a few days.  She has a Golden Retriever and a mixed-breed medium sized dog, a somewhat social cat and a hermit cat.  I actually saw the hermit cat twice on this visit.  Her daughter, next door has a Golden a miniature dachshund and a conure.

I've been watching an incredibly patient cat.  The cat enjoys being behind the big fan that helps keep the air moving in my sister's house (look in the upper right corner of the picture).  Part of the day her daughter's dogs are here while she's at work.  The dachshund delights in harassing the cat.  She will "herd" the cat, going for her front legs.  She will pounce at the cat.  She will get in the cat's face.  She will chase the cat.

And the cat just ignores her.  Sometimes the cat will travel across the room on the furniture, but I've not seen her lash out with claws.  I've not even heard the cat complain more than one quiet little sound.  None of the cats I've had in the past would have put up with this little dog.  Some of them would have drawn blood, others would have just slapped her silly without using claws.

Cool Coastal WeatherT

Today, to escape the heat (around 100) we packed a lunch and headed out to the coast.

At McKerricher State Park, in Fort Bragg, the seals were out on the rocks.  The tide was out (but coming back in) and people were checking out the tide pools.  The fog was getting ready to come in.  After a walk on the boardwalk and a picnic lunch, we headed further down the coast. 

There were plenty of flowers out, too, in a variety of colors.  The wild radish was plentiful in white, pink and yellow.  There was a wild geranium of some kind, brodeia, ice plant and some composites I'm not familiar with.

We wound up going further than originally planned, but with the fog it was all cool.  And that was the idea.  When we came back into the Hwy 101 corridor, the temperature was bearable, but with each mile we moved north it got hotter.  It was still in the 90s when we got back to the house and inside was hotter since it had been closed up for the day.  The fans came on and the temperature started coming down.

Not sweltering through the day as it heated up made a big difference - instead of sticky sweaty clothes, we came into the heat as it was starting to abate, so it's much better than last night.

Only 2 states today

Today was almost entirely a California day.  I started in southern Oregon and within minutes was in California.  I saw a few interesting things while I was on the last leg of this first part of my trip.

I saw a highway rest area that has a horse resting area.  I'd never seen that before.   It was on Hwy 97 a little south of the Oregon border.

I saw a white bird with black on the top of its head and a longish orange-red bill.  It was hovering over the slough beside the road.  It was a common tern.  A little further on there were 3 white pelicans that were dirty looking from being in a pond with a lot of scummy stuff on it.  But they seemed to be catching fish - it looked like one of them was swallowing a fish as I went by.

I saw how to minimize fire danger when mowing roadside grass.  First the water truck sprinkles the grass.  Then the mower cuts the grass.  Finally, the third truck in line is a fire fighting type truck, just in case.  The grass is so dry it smelled like the straw you'd put down for animals instead of lawn mower clippings.

I also saw a newly started fire.  It was over the hill from the road I was on, at the far eastern end of Clear Lake.  It hadn't been going very long when I saw it.  A few vehicles passed me going to the fire as I headed to Upper Lake.  One was a wildland fire crew truck, one was a support truck and the last one was a bus.  The bus was empty, but I assume it was on its way to pick up a crew, as it was labeled as a CDF fire vehicle.

This part of California is still hot and dry.  It doesn't look that different from normal years, since dry grass is normal after March or April.  But it is drier than it looks and today topped out at around 100 degrees with a noticeable breeze.  At almost 10 pm it's still over 80 in the house.  The large noisy fan is coming to my room with me to help blow the hot air out of the room.  Sleep will be difficult tonight.  Oh well.  We'll get some relief tomorrow by taking a picnic to the coast, where it should be 20-30 degrees cooler.

A long day

I'm on the road, heading south to make a quick visit with my sister, and to pick up "the kids" and bring them to Montana for the 4th of July.  Of course, I'll have to take them back a few days later.

Today I drove over 650 miles.  I got a fairly early start - 7 am Mountain time.  And I didn't stop much, so I made a lot of miles in a shorter time than I might normally have taken.  My poor butt is paying the price.  The tailbone area is really complaining tonight (and for the last several hours).

I didn't quite make it a 5 state day, but I did drive in 4 states.  35 miles of Montana, then I crossed the Idaho panhandle into Washington, turning mostly south and crossing most of Oregon north to south.  I'm not far from the California border, maybe 30 miles or less.

As you come down the Columbia River you suddenly notice there is a large, snow-covered volcanic mountain.  It's hazy and very distant, but very distinct.  It's Mount Ranier or Mount Hood.  As you turn away from the Columbia, you realize there are two large, snow-covered volcanic mountains.  A bit further along, I came to a turnout with pointers and names and realized I was now seeing THREE large, snow-covered volcanic mountains.  And some others to go with them.  The markers identified Broken Top, the Three Sisters, Mount Bachelor, Three-Fingered Jack, Mount Jefferson, Mount Hood, Mount Saint Helen, and Mount Ranier.  The three that really stand out because they also stand alone are Mounts Jefferson, Hood and Ranier.  (It's hazy, so the major peaks don't stand out all that well in this panoramic shot, but you get an idea of the terrain here.  The concrete strip at the bottom is the edge of the peak identifier.)

The labels are hard to read because they are metal strips with the letters punched into them dot by dot, and they have weathered quite a bit.  It was overcast, so the contrast isn't very good, either.

Well, after that many miles, and catching up on a few things on the internet ... I'm tired and need to head off to bed so I can drive another 300 miles tomorrow.

Oh, thought I'd share this ... a "portapotty" on steroids

Actually, it's a pre-cast concrete two-stall vault toilet on its way to be installed somewhere.  I've seen these before.  They're pretty solid.  Once it gets where it's going, they'll position it over the vaults, secure it, and it will be ready to go (pardon me, I can't help it).

Deer

White tail deer are a fact of life in western Montana.  You always have to watch for them as you drive down the road.  They will jump out and cross the highway any time of day or night.  They wander through the yard – outside the fence that protects the lawn area.  They wander through town. 

Years ago, when Tom’s dad was alive, we’d take an evening drive to count deer.  Go down any side road and every so often you’d find a pasture or meadow with 20, 30, 40 or more deer quietly grazing. 

In the years we’ve been coming up to visit we’ve been hit by one deer – it hit the rear quarter panel of our car, then got up and ran away.  We’ve been really lucky . . . so far.

The deer also cause excitement for the dogs.  At the first hint there might be one out there, they search the fenceline.  Missy (Tom’s mom’s Boston) will blast through her doggy door and Max will stand at the door eager to go join the chase.  Several times the deer have been right at the fence, or walking up the drive to the houses behind here.  When they realize they’ve been discovered they take off bouncing and “pronking” (all 4 feet coming off the ground at the same time) into the forested acres beyond the fenced lawn area.

 

 

 

 

Longest Day

Yesterday was the longest day of the year.  Here in Trout Creek that means the birds were announcing the coming day by 4:30 am, morning light was beginning to make details visible by 5 or 5:30 and by a bit before 8 am the sun was over the nearby trees and lighting up the bedroom curtains.  By 10:30 it was sunset and by 11 or so it was finally dark.  We're less than 150 driving miles from Canada. 

On the 4th of July (and days leading up to it) we have to wait until pretty late to be able to set off the colorful fireworks.  We shoot off the bottle rockets and other things that mainly fly in the air, make noise or both early in the evening while waiting for it to be dark enough for the "pretty stuff" like mortar shells, fountains, Catherine wheels, Roman candles and such.

Now that the weather's turned from rain every day to sunny, we'll be watering a lot so we are comfortable shooting off our cache of fireworks without setting the forest on fire.

Poker Run - Trout Creek Style

In Grand Lake we have snowmobile poker runs.  In other places they have motorcycle poker runs.  In Trout Creek they have Cowboy Poker Runs.  The registration & parking is at one of the two local bar/restaurants.  I don’t know where the card stops are, but it’s one more way to bring some money to a small town.

I was heading in to check mail when I saw the "Caution - Poker Run" banner.  So, I assumed it was an ATV Poker Run.  Then I saw a couple of horse, and a few more and then the sign-in station at the Wayside Bar & Grill.  It's a Cowboy Poker Run.

Old Cars

As I drove to Sandpoint the other day I passed a place that seems to be a pallet factory with a plus.  There were lots of pallets stacked all over, but along the edge of the property there was a row of old cars and trucks.  I’m not talking a row of a half dozen vehicles; I’m talking a few dozen vehicles.  None of them are in prime condition.  Most have missing paint, and some rust, but they seem to have fairly straight body panels.  They seem to be mostly from 1940s and 1950s.

Road 556

We’ve never really had time to explore when we’ve been here in Trout Creek.  We’ve only had a week, two at the most, to catch up with Tom’s mom, sister and whichever brothers, nephews, nieces, and cousins made it to the annual “Nobody’s Dead or Dying Family Reunion”.  This summer, we hope to do more exploring in this beautiful country. 

Yesterday was our first foray into the unknown.  We took off with a sketchy plan to take Hwy 556 toward Hwy 2, then decide which way we’d come back.  It didn’t take long for our plans to change.  The Montana road map (a fresh one, published by the state) wasn’t adequate for this trip.  Within just a few miles of leaving Hwy 200 the pavement ended and we were now on a forest service road.  At the first junction the sign indicated our road went straight ahead, with other destinations to the left.  Problem is, it was a “Y” with our road heading to the right (but not hard right turn) and the other road heading to the left (but not a hard left turn).  After that it went downhill.  Figuratively, not literally.  That was the last sign we saw that told us we were where we meant to be.  Some of the side roads identified their destination.  Some of the side roads were identified with a forest road number.  And the better road we kept crossing was private.  At least some sections of it were private.  “Our” road crossed it, joined it, paralleled it … or the road(s) we drove did those things.  The sign told us we had 38 miles to go and we went at least 36. 

Finally, as our sense of location faded, we turned around and came back the way we came.  Better to have been within a very short distance of our goal and turned around than to wander from road to road to road.  We had to have been less than 3 miles from Hwy 2.  Unless we never got on the right road once the confusion of unmarked and poorly marked roads began.

But, it was for the journey, not the destination, that we set out.  But, we don’t want to be statistics that point out how foolish it is to travel with inadequate maps.  It looks like we’re going to need several forest service maps.  We’ve got the one for the Kootenai forest which is mostly between here and Idaho, but our trip took us into the Lolo forest to the east of here.  And, it might not be a bad idea to carry Tom’s GPS and learn to use it.

The scenery was varied and beautiful.  We started along the Thompson River, following it for several miles.  We also passed a huge meadow – the kind that looks like it must have been cleared for agriculture and hasn’t yet recovered back to forest.  To add to the idea it was cleared, there are the remains of two cabins in the strip of forest between the road and the meadow. 

We passed through various forest types, with the dominant tree changing from lodgepole to cedar to ponderosa and back and forth between forests.  Sometimes it was thick forest, with only the river and road providing a break.  Other times it was pretty open, but never scrub or grassland.

 

We may try this road again someday when we have a forest map, or maybe from the other end.

Water Power

Between Thompson Falls, Montana and Lake Pend d’Oreille (pronounced ponderay) there are 3 dams with hydroelectric generation.  One is at Thompson Falls (with the little park where we most often get our internet “fix”).  The next one down is the Noxon Rapids Dam, not far from the Montana-Idaho state line.  The third one is the Cabinet Gorge Dam in eastern Idaho.  The Noxon Rapids and Cabinet Gorge dams are part of a huge project by the Washington Power Company (now Avista) to provide power to the Pacific Northwest.

Behind each of these dams are miles of long narrow lakes, with lots of fishing and boating opportunities with some picnicking and camping, as well.

At one time, long ago during the last Ice Age, much of this region was covered in ice or water.  A huge ice dam at the eastern end of what is now Lake Pend d’Oreille would flood hundreds of square miles of land, backing water 200 miles into Montana.  Occasionally, water would breach the dam and tremendous flood waters would form river gorges, scour flat areas and move enormous boulders hundreds of miles.  They say ancient Lake Missoula was 800 to 1000 feet deep when the ice dam was holding.  That’s a lot of water.

Cabinet Gorge Dam

Noxon Rapids Dam

Hope

Back when we first started coming to Trout Creek to visit Tom’s parents, we were struck by a couple of things as we crossed Idaho.  Just east of Sandpoint and Ponderay, there were three little towns in sequence that always cracked us up as we passed their signs.  Hope.  East Hope.  Beyond Hope.  The other was the bridge that appeared to rise into the sky and stop.  The first time we crossed that bridge it was night and it really did look like it went up and just ended.  It curves back down and around, but you have to trust and keep going to verify that.

A few years ago we noticed that while the Hope and East Hope signs are still along the highway, Beyond Hope has disappeared.  Earlier this week I went to Sandpoint to do some “bigger” shopping and was watching for Beyond Hope.  All I found was a sign for a resort.  On the way home I took a detour to see if there was any sign of a town.  All I found was the resort.  It’s mostly RV park, but there are a few cabins around it.  I guess after being beyond Hope for so long, they lost Hope. 

Hope and East Hope just isn’t the same as Hope, East Hope, Beyond Hope.

 

Trip to Idaho

Today, I'm in Idaho.  It's time to look for a better selection (and prices, maybe) of produce, and to get a few items that aren't available in Trout Creek or Thompson Falls.

Missoula is 115 miles east of the "Mason Rancho".  Sandpoint, Idaho is only about 50 miles west.  Here I can find a couple of large supermarkets, Walmart, Home Depot, etc. And I can sit in Starbucks and update my computer, do my email, etc

Once I've got all the Windows updates installed and I've done the other internet stuff I need to do, I'll finish my Idaho trip with a round of shopping and maybe a lunch for the road back.  This will be a fairly routine trip a few times over the summer.  Thompson Falls has fewer than 1500 residents, so they can't support any of the big box stores or major grocery chains.  So, you accept less selection and higher prices, or you take a drive. 

This end of Idaho, northern panhandle is less than 75 miles across.  That makes it possible to do a day trip across parts of 3 states and back for a shopping trip to Spokane, WA!  It's less than 150 miles each way.  For those of you in Grand County, CO, it would be like a day trip to Colorado Springs, but from Montana, through Idaho, to Washington.

It's different here

It has been really different trying to get used to the idea of planning my internet time.  On the other hand, it's very pleasant sitting under the roofed picnic area, looking across the shaded grass to the Thompson Falls dam and little island populated by Canada geese and a swan.  It's hard to ignore a large white bird twice the size of the geese.

 

 

And talk about a bumper crop of Canada geese - we saw these adults shepherding a gaggle of goslings across a back street to the water

Each trip to town we carry the computer so we can check out email, pay bills, do a little research, and so on.  So far, we get back to the "rancho" only to realize there was one more thing (at least) that we meant to do online.  It hasn't yet been anything major or serious, but it is a bit frustrating.

It's been hot here - in the mid 90s with medium to high humidity, so it feels hotter than it is.  And being from Grand Lake, it feels worse because we're not used to the 90s and 100s (we'll see some of that later this summer).  But, it really cools down at night.  We got from air conditioning & fans during the day to blankets and sometimes heat in the early morning hours before the sun starts warming things up again.

And the days are really long.  While it isn't really daylight at 5 in the morning, it is light enough outside to distinguish details, and when we go to bed at 10 or 10:30 it's still fairly light out.  It sort of reminds me of the trip to Anchorage several years ago.

We've got a little bit of gardening started, some lettuce, green onions, radishes, zucchini and tomatoes, and I've put some herbs in a window box on the porch rail. 

To give you an idea of the country around here, these photos were taken between Thompson Falls and the "rancho"

 

 

 

 

So, that's it for now.

 

Stay tuned!

Trout Creek, Montana

This is beautiful downtown Trout Creek.  It really is a “don’t blink” town.  Per the 2000 census, population 261, it covers 1.9 square miles.  The PO building is less than half the size of the one on Grand Lake.  Trout Creek is larger than Rand, CO, and maybe even a bit larger than Parshall.  It has 2 motels, 2 bar/restaurants, 2 convenience stores with gas.  Just on the western edge of town is a boat ramp and swim beach.  Because of Noxon dam, a few miles west, the Clark Fork River is wide and slow enough to be considered a lake.  Because it’s a narrow, steep valley, the lake is deep but not all that wide (for a western lake).  There are a lot of homes scattered in the woods around Trout Creek and as you travel between Trout Creek and Thompson Falls there are other, smaller, communities, ranches, and homes.  You never know if a dirt track leads to a ranch, a small home or a group of homes.

In 1981 the state legislature designated Trout Creek “Huckleberry Capital of Montana”.  They celebrate this the second weekend in August with the Huckleberry Festival.  I’ll plan to attend the parade and festival and send photos.  Last time we attended was in 1991.  Reaction to our Golden Retriever ranged from a Down syndrome child hugging and petting her while she sat absolutely still, to “get away from my baby” when we sat within 20 feet or so of a booth to eat our ice cream.  (The woman inside had her baby in a stroller, in the booth with her.)

Little Bear - Deb is retiring this year

One of the things we look forward to each trip to Montana is at least one visit to Little Bear.  It's a special ice cream shop in Thompson Falls.  What makes it special is the machine that transforms ice cream and mix-ins to unique soft-serve creations.

Deb (of Little Bear) has survived a lot, including a cancer that took her voice box, the death of her husband Tom.  She's decided it's time for her to retire.  She's trying really hard to sell the place with the condition that the new owners continue the Little Bear tradition.  So far, potential buyers want the building, but not the business.  But, this is the last summer for Little Bear as we know it.  We will make sure all our guests get a shot at this unique treat while we're here.

So, what's so special about Little Bear's ice cream?  The machine, one of only a handful ever brought to the US, transforms ordinary Meadow Gold ice cream (vanilla or chocolate), or frozen yogurt, into unique soft-serve creations.  You pick one or more mix-ins and they run them through the machine with 2 or more blocks of ice cream.  You can use their suggested combinations or make your own.

When it comes out of the machine it is fully combined and transformed.  My favorite - the Grizzly Delight" - is vanilla ice cream, mini chocolate chips, cream cheese, almonds and huckleberries.  It comes out as purple soft-serve with all those flavors in every bite.

A couple years ago we heard the story of Cold Stone.  The guy who started that company worked for Deb at Little Bear, learned the ice cream game, then went off and used her idea to start a competing company.  He never thanked her, never offered her anything as repayment for teaching him the business.  And he didn't want to invest in one of the machines.  He saved money going with a slab of marble and a couple of ice cream spades.  Because of that, we never went to Cold Stone again.  We have held out for Little Bear each summer. 

If Deb can't find a buyer who will carry on the Little Bear tradition, we will really miss this summer treat.

First Week

We’ve been away from Grand Lake for a week, now.  We’ve travelled 1157 miles in convoy, bought a shopping cart full of fireworks, helped with a move, opened the house for the summer, set up our RV for long term use, started the process of getting our mail forwarded to Trout Creek, got (Tom’s mom) Lois’ mail coming back to Trout Creek, and have a few more changes to take care of for her.

Max is loving having the yard.  He can walk around, sniff, explore and come to the door when he wants in.  We’re just far enough off the road we can let him out the gate to get into the car, without putting on his leash.  And Missy tries to get him to play with her every now and then.  Missy is Lois’ 7-year-old Boston.

Our communications are a bit limited.  Our cell phones get enough signal to receive & send text messages, and some simple email messages will come in on my smartphone (but not Tom’s dumbphone).  But, we can’t receive or make calls from here.  We can go to lunch in Thompson Falls (about 15 miles east of here) and spread out on a table with our laptops and our jetpack.  Or, we can park in a roadside parking area about 5 miles east of here.

Yes, there are places that are significantly more “remote” than Grand Lake.  Trout Creek, downtown Trout Creek, consists of a few businesses and a number of households and not much else.  There are 2 motels, 2 stores that fall between a convenience store and small town mom-n-pop grocery store.  Both have gas, ice, beer – all the essentials for fishermen, boaters and vacationers.  Trout Creek is the Huckleberry capital of Montana, with a Huckleberry Festival in August.

It’s very green here right now.  May is a wet month.  At least this one is.  So far, I don’t remember the last time we had a no-rain day.  We had that wet transition from April to May in Grand Lake, followed by more rain and snow, then rain at least part of each day on the trip here, and each day we’ve been here so far.  Last night started the wettest 24 hours so far.  It started raining around 6 or 7, took a break between 3 & 4 am, and a couple of brief breaks during this afternoon.  It may have tapered off for a while, but it's still cloudy & humid.  Tom was able to get a lot of grass mowed before the rain got serious. 

While he was mowing, he saw a baby swallow in the grass in time to miss it.   He had me come out so I could get a picture.  The poor little bird not only left the nest too soon, but one foot had gotten tangled in a piece of insulation fluff (or something that looked like green fuzzy insulation).  I was able to get it off the little guy’s foot.  I made sure to put it back where it started so the parents would keep protecting and feeding it.

Settling in here at the “Mason rancho” has gotten off to a good start.  We’re figuring out where things are, getting transitions arranged back to here from Helena, and our transition to here (like getting a PO box), and figuring out tastes and preferences so we move along smoothly.

As we drive by the lake in Thompson Falls, there are some kind of yellow iris along the edge.  They remind me of Japanese iris because the droopy parts are big and there are virtually no “stand-up” parts.  The parts are there, but the iris has a flat topped look.

Over the next weeks we’ll do more settling in, and see if we can do a bit of exploring, too.

P.S.

Right after dinner we had a bit of excitement.  Tom saw a large yellow dog just outside the fence.  Then a minute later he saw it inside the yard.  While he kept Max in at the sliding door, I went out another door to see if I could get the dog out of the yard.  That’s when I saw the 2 little boys, maybe 5-7 years old, with yet another dog, at the gate opening & closing it slightly.  I told them they needed to get their dog out of the yard.  Then they started to come in with the second dog.  I told them they had to keep the dogs out of the yard.  They backed off.  They asked “Is Barb back?”, pointing to Lois’ car.  “No, she’s not” I told them.  I went back toward the corner of the yard where the yellow dog was crouching on a stump (cornered by a Boston).  It ran for the other end of the yard and I told the kids to let it out.  It had a 3-4 inch wide swath of hair standing up down its back.  One of the boys volunteered “he likes to get in the garbage”.  Tom had come out.  When he asked the boys “How’d he get in the yard?” one of the boys was heading back to the fence and home, the other one couldn’t decide if he should grab his crotch, his butt, speak or not, and finally just ran away.  We decided we should lock all the cars & the RV.  Max decided he should be on guard and for the last 45 minutes he’s been scanning the yard – side to side and back again.  He’s on high alert.  I’m sure he’d be ready to defend “his” yard, but he’d go down so quick.  Some days he falls down when he shakes his head.  No matter how much he wants it, we can’t let him get in a fight.