Travelogue Days 12 through 29

Catch up travelogue. There are some stories hidden in this chronology. I will get to them.

Day #12 and #13. On Friday, June 30 we drove from Broaddus, MT where we encountered Chance Lambert. Camped for two lovely days in the Custer National Forest, twelves miles north of Rt. 212. Remote site one other camper. Great toilets as usual. Quiet camping getaway.

July 2, 2017, we headed west on 212 to Lame Deer, MT, in the Northern Cheyenne Tribe Reservation. At a reservation IGA a friendly Native American told us about an Indian Pow Wow that was going on just east of town. So away we went. A community gathering of many Native Americans and others, a parade, complete with mounted cowboys, cowgirls and one Indian chief in dazzling, full head dress. Dancing and drumming competitions. This was the last day of the Pow Wow, so we traveled on to the Little Big Horn National Monument at Crow Agency, MT where on June 25-26, 1876, Col. George Armstrong Custer, two of his brothers, a nephew, a brother-in-law and two hundred and sixty-nine American Army troops met their bloody deaths at the hands of a band of Northern Cheyenne, Lakota Sioux and Arapaho Indians lead by Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse and Chief Gall.

The massacre of three hundred Lakota Native Americans, two hundred of which were women and children took place not far from Crow Agency, on December 29, 1890. at Wounded Knee, South Dakota, then and now the Lakota Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. We went here also.

These were sad times for Native Americans.

The victims of the Wounded Knee massacre were buried in a mass grave in a community cemetery along with many other local Natives Americans dating to the present. Ironically, many of the more recent burials were natives that served in the US Armed Forces in World War I and II, and Vietnam. Some of these were almost certain to be related to the massacre victim’s families.

On to Billings, MT. then north to Roundup (population 2000) and east to Musselshell (pop 100) where we stayed in a free town campsite with water, acceptable toilets in a cottonwood grove, on the Musselshell River. Day #14.

July 3, 2017. Day #15. Back to Roundup for July 4 weekend festivities, which were prodigious to say the least. Parade, beer barrel tug of war, rodeo, music and other activities. Spoke to the festivities coordinator who moved here five years ago to uncomplicate her life. Mow she’s the events coordinator for the town. Go figure. Drove north on 87 to Grass Range, MT (population 110) through some of the driest country we have encountered yet. The only store for fifty miles. Lucky for us they had ice cream. The store attendant told us it had not rained since early spring and that there was very little snow cover this past winter. Saw a guy carrying a side arm and wearing a beaver skin hat. That was enough to spur us on to the Charles M Russell National Wildlife Refuge on the Missouri River, another fifty-mile drive on hot dusty roads. We camped on the river in a delightful spot and met the camp site host couple, Fred and Carol, who just happened to be from Hamilton, MT, where Sarah, my daughter, is living. In the evening, we drove a twenty-five-mile loop tour through the refuge looking for mule deer and elk.  Deer but no elk. Saw a really old ghost homestead. Ninety seven degrees at 9:00PM. That night it got down to fifty-eight.

July 4, 2017, Day #16. Headed north 191 to Zortman MT (pop 69). We had heard that those sixty-nine souls and a few others in the area put on quite a grand annual July 4^th parade. With that many people involved we figured we might be the only spectators. On the way in we noticed smoke in that direction, talked to people closer to Grass Range who told us about a fire burning pretty much out control in the Fort Belkap Indian Reservation, which the village of Zortman borders. When we got there a friendly local sheriff informed us that Zortman was shut down and the good people of the town had cancelled the parade. But he would certainly allow us to go in to fuel up. Which we did. In the town square, and I use that term loosely, there were three recreational vehicles parked side by side with a few grizzled cowboys sitting in a row in lawn chairs. As we rode by I asked about the parade and one old cow poke said, “Well, turn around right up there, drive back by and wave at us, we will wave back, and there’s your parade”. Which is what we did. Peals of laughter from those old tanned, wrinkled faces. In fact, the parade had been canceled and the town’s people were planning a “I survived the fire” parade to occur in a couple of weeks. On the way, out we saw fire jumpers preparing to go into that steep, hot, dry, burning land, mostly Native Americans, going out to protect Zortman and its people. We watch a helicopter tanker dip a bag in a local lake and make a run into the fire. Very dramatic.

On to Hays in the reservation where we rode through a canyon, saw a natural bridge and visited the St. Paul’s Catholic Mission. Then on to Havre, MT and west to camp free at the Fresno Reservoir. Complete with jet skis, power boats, many large recreational vehicles, generators, lots of noise, clean toilets (sort of). Managed to carve out a relatively pleasant camp site on a hill away from the chaos below, with a commanding view of the lake. As evening crept in and the hubbub below lessened, a beaver swam by to restore my faith.

July 5, Day #17. Back to Havre to service the Dodge then south on 87 to Big Sandy (population 600) then east for forty-four miles on a gravel road to Judith Landing and the confluence of the Judith and Missouri Rivers, where we camped on the banks of the Missouri River in a very nice, clean and free site. Right out there, one hundred yards from the shore Meriwether Lewis and William Clark with Sacajawea and her infant son and a few very brave young men passed by in heavy wooden boats in their exploration of the Louisiana Purchase. The story is that Napoleon didn’t know what he was selling and Thomas Jefferson didn’t know what he was buying in that deal, so Lewis and Clark headed west from St. Lewis to figure that out. Along this stretch of the river, there are a number of places where archeologists and historians have determined that Lewis and Clark camped. I looked out over those waters and imagined them coming by in those heavy wooden boats, headed up the river against a strong current, sailing in a favorable wind, most likely rowing or poling their way along, or using mules on the banks to haul the boats along in one-hundred-degree heat. Today, here at Judith Landing the temperature got up to one hundred and six. By the way, we read that William Clark named the river, the Judith River that is, after a young lady he knew who lived back in Virginia. I want to find out more about that deal.

We met the camp hosts, Marge and Craig Purdy, from Stevensville, Mt., just ten miles from Hamilton where my lovely and talented daughter lives. Great camp site. Very remote. Paid $2.50 for clean toilets and site overlooking the river. Took a swim. Great toilets, hand sanitizer, waste baskets plastic bags, no spiders. A big plus for Emily, who is bug adverse.

July 6, Day #18, Headed south to Winifred, thirty miles over gravel and dirt. Had one-pound hamburgers in a café casino. Watched a woman eat French fries and feed a poker machine about fifty dollars. Very expensive French fries. Then drove south on 191 to Harlowton. Saw mule deer hopping their way through tall, irrigated wheat. Camped at Spring Creek in the Lewis and Clark NF, another very pleasant sojourn. Met a woman in her eighties driving a big diesel truck and hauling a recreational vehicle by herself.  

July 7, Day #19 -21. Hamilton, MT. Spent three days with Sarah and Chad, my daughter and son-in-law, who, in a fit of wanderlust, moved here last April, where she is a nurse practitioner in a local setting. They are living their dream in the Bitterroot Valley surrounded by mountains, elk, mule and whitetail deer, sandhill cranes, wild turkeys and cowboys and Indians.   

July 10, Day 22, Monday, headed north to National Bison Range, a magnificent wildlife preserve, where we saw bison, many elk, deer and antelope. Camped at Finley Point State Park, Flathead Lake. No more state parks. Expensive and crowded.

July 11, Day 23, Disaster. Headed for Kalispell, MT. A fellow motorist flagged us down to point out that we were dragging our power cord. The dope driving the van forgot to connect it this morning. Had to replace the cable in Kalispell. Headed out toward Glacier National Park where all camp sites were full. Not an uncommon phenomenon in American’s national parks.  We camped in the Flathead National Forest in a remote, free site, ten miles on gravel roads. Beautiful lodgepole pine, ponderosa pine forest.  

Days 24 and 25. Stayed at Avalanche Creek Camp site in the magnificent Glacier National Park and toured around with one hundred million other folks. Big horn sheep, mountain goats, spectacular mountain scenery, narrow, winding road across Logan Pass. An ironic name for a national park today. When the park was established in 1910, it had about one hundred and fifty glaciers. That number is now at thirty-seven. Since 1966, ice locked in glaciers has declined by thirty-seven percent. Going, going, gone.   

We left the park on July 14, and spent days 26, 27 and 28 on the Tobacco River just outside of Eureka, MT. about fifteen miles from the Canadian border, in one of our best camp sites. On a bluff overlooking the river. Free, clean toilets. It was a weekend, so there were a few locals coming and going, kayaking, fishing. One other camping group. Turns out we were camped right on the Pacific Northwest National Scenic Trail, that starts in Glacier National Park and winds itself for over twelve hundred miles across the Rocky Mountains, the Selkirk Mountains, the Pasayten Wilderness, the North Cascades and the Olympic Mountains from Glacier National Park to Cape Alava, WA on the Pacific Ocean. Over our three-day stay we watched over thirty intrepid souls walk by headed for the Pacific. One guy was carrying over fifty pounds. The next guy called himself a minimalist. Said his “base weight” was twelve pounds. With food and water, the total weight he carried was twenty-two pounds. Fantastic people. Each a world of stories I’m sure. Very pleasant conservations.  

July 16, Day 29 – On to Canada.

Stay tuned for some stories.