Traveling ~ Miles City, MT to Dickinson, ND

I woke to another lovely sunny and hot morning, and immediately got on a secondary road that ran parallel to the Interstate but closer to the Yellowstone River. There were large farms along here and, at one point, an eagle nest with three young visible through my scope. How cool would it be to live along this great river? I would see small groups of brown cattle standing in the shallows, cooling off. I dreamed of kayaking a long river and thought about the stories I have read of those who did that and of the guy who spoke last winter at the Herrick Public Library in Holland who told, in such an unassuming way, of his experiences on the Yellowstone in a kayak.

I crossed into South Dakota and the first town was Beach. The last town in Montana was Wibaux. Beach??? I soon got to the South Unit of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park and spent several hours driving the auto route, after first buying a few things at the gift shop and also talking to the rangers about the possibility of spotting a Peregrine. I got a great book on the prairies. The topography was amazing...

The LIttle Missouri River runs through the park and the riparian areas had camp grounds and were one of the few places while traveling that I saw way more tents than RVs. In this verdant riparian habitat I got the best view I will ever have of a red-eyed vireo. With time and patience, one could see lots of species in this place. I did not see raptors though at any time on the 35-mile route through the park. Fragrant sage, blue skies, no commerce, fascinating geology, sunshine.....

The commerce was in Medora, the town just east of the park entrance and where the tourists hang out, as Dave VH says, looking in shops, talking on cell phones, ambling along, eating ice cream and replenishing for the road. And buying shirts.

I drove a bit more and stayed in Dickinson, ND as the motels were filled in Jamestown.

Book: An Object of Beauty by Steve Martin

Yes, that Steve Martin

This is a novel about the art world and connivings and characters who work in museums, galleries and auction houses.

Lacey is beautiful, ambitious and not overly concerned bothered by scruples. She is also lucky, most of the time.

"On the way back to the Carlyle, his mental reenactment of their last kiss told him, yes, she loves me, and he once again saw Lacey as an illuminating white light, forgetting that white is composed of disparate streaks of color, each as powerful as the whole."

I liked the Manhattan buzz and insights into the world of art.

"The publicity that convinced broke home owners that they could make nice profits flipping their houses was the same as that which motivated moneyed art collections to go further into the market than was practical. The lure in art collection and its financial rewards, not counting for a moment its aesthetic, cultural and intellectual rewards, is like the trust if paper money: it makes no sense when you really think about it. New artistic images are so vulnerable to opinion that it wouldn't take much more than a whim for a small group of collectors to decide that a contemporary artist was not so wonderful anymore, was so last year. In the ebb and flow of artists' desirability, some collectors wondered how a beautiful painting, once it had fallen from favor, could turn ugly so quickly."

Entertaining....

Book: Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls by David Sedaris

You either know of David Sedaris or you don't. He makes me laugh, even out loud on occasion, while I read these essays.

Every page was funny to me:

A page at random: He is waiting in line at a Starbuck's behind:

"...Mrs. Dunstan, a towering, dough-colored pyramid of a woman wearing oversize glasses...Behind her came a man I guessed to be her husband, and after looking up at menu board, she turned to him, 'A latte,' she said, 'Now is that the thing that Barbara likes to get, the one with whipped cream, or is that called something else?'...Then her husband squinted up at the board, deciding after a good long while that he'd try one of those mocha something or others....

It's one thing to be jolly and talkative--my mother was that way. The difference between her and Mrs. Dunstan is that my mother had a sense of her audience -- not just the person she was talking to but others around her who were listening in. 'I can see you've got a line, ' she'd have said at some point...She'd also have made her chatter more compelling. In my mother's version, the underemployed son would sleep each day until dusk, possibly in a dank basement...She spoke in a voice that addressed everyone and invited them to join in. Mrs. Dunstan, on the other hand, was simply loud. Loud and just  as dull as she could be.

The Dunstans' bill came to eight dollars, which, everyone agreed, WAS a lot to pay for two cups of coffee. But they WERE large ones, and this WAS a vacation, sort of. Not like a trip to Florida, but you certainly couldn't do that at the drop of a hat, especially with gas prices the way they are and looking to go even higher."

And so on.....

Maybe not everyone's idea of humor, but it is mine....although the title was weird. There is an owl essay but it has nothing to do with diabetes.

Book: The Fall of Alice K. by Jim Heynen

I got this from the Herrick Library in Holland.

For all of us who grew up in the Dutch Reformed Calvinist culture, this book brings us home....somewhat. The setting is Dutch Center, Iowa. The Krayenbraak family is on the cusp of losing their farm. The mother is not a cheerful person; she is cold, stern and judgmental as she awaits the advent of the the new millennium by stockpiling Spam in the basement. She and her daughter, Alice (a senior in high school), are increasingly at odds. Alice's father is a gentle, stoic, hardworking man, a victim of modern agricultural practices.

Alice is smart and obedient, for the most part. She has followed the expected and prescribed path through her childhood and adolescence, going to church on Sundays and her parochial school during the week. She is soon to begin college.

But, a Hmong family moves to Church Center....a foreign element...a "not our kind" element, and the Krayenbraak family is challenged.

The story is well-told, capturing those moments when the precepts of brotherly love and kindness and compassion preached by Jesus are tested. It explores a mother-daughter relationship and the value of one brilliant, inspiring and perceptive teacher. There is the Alice's developmentally-delayed sister and the disparate plans and ideas as the family tries to prepare for her future. There is the friendship of Lydia and Alice, best friends spending their last year together as only high-school seniors do.  These themes, however, are lesser threads woven into the fabric of the finished piece which is Alice's first love...

There is more grace and subtlety in this story than I thought would be there, which is always good.

(Excuse me, but isn't naming the minister Rev. Prunesma a bit too much????)

Traveling ~ Lincoln, MT to Miles City, MT

June 28, 2013

Coffee at a drive-through espresso place in Lincoln and then east for a long time on Highway 200. This is open country but with great green rolling hills. I was now on the east side of the Continental Divide and headed for the prairies, although there are many smaller mountains ranges scattered throughout southern Montana.

I drove through Great Falls (I really hate driving through any city bigger than places like Lincoln, and Great Falls was busy and noisy with commerce and strip malls, much of this due to the nearby Malmstrom AFB, and is similar to Grand Forks, ND with its Grand Forks AFB.)

But I got through it, driving on two-lanes all afternoon, making good time, moving along rivers, through the small towns of Lewiston, Grass Range and Roundup. The few places with water or marshes attracted birds and I saw a bald eagle.

And there were always the small sparrows, many of whom are hard to see, as they fly away and/or dive into the grass and remain hidden.  I have decided that I probably will have to just stake out productive grassland habitat some spring or summer day, set up a lawn chair and wait it out...arriving before sunrise and spending six or more hours.

The landscape is never boring to me.

And what is the story with Spion Kop road here in the middle of Montana?

I was now following the Yellowstone and expected to stop in Glendive. I called ahead but all motels were full, so I stopped in Miles City instead, and decided that I were ever to eat a steak, Miles City would be the place to do that. I asked for a restaurant recommendation of the sweet young thing at the desk and she directed me to The Buckboard or something like that, a place very nearby. Which looked promising from the outside as it was unpretentious, with a porch of wide weathered boards. I had a "free drink" card from the motel. Unfortunately, this place wasn't what I had in mind. The meat was barely acceptable, even to a non-discerning steak palate like mine, and the drink was coffee or tea (or some other nonalcoholic beverage.) It was a totally bland generic family restaurant with a generic American clientele....The funny part was (as I ordered a glass of wine and was told they did not have alcohol) that I could walk next door to a bar, order and pay for a glass of wine and then bring it back to the restaurant. Which I did. I should have tried another place, but these Interstate exits have the known and familiar venues for non-adventurous diners. It was hot and I was tired, but I missed the chance for a good steak I am sure.

Traveling ~ Ritzville, WA to Lincoln, MT

June 27, 2013

I walked a mile the next morning with a cup of coffee from a Starbucks right next to the motel. It's unusual to find a Starbucks in such a small town, but I guess this being the Northwest and between Missoula / Spokane and Seattle, there was a population to be seduced off the interstate.

The rest of the day I drove through Washington, Idaho and Montana on I94, barely tolerating it, but making good time. I stopped and ate a sandwich on the pass between MT and ID and listened and looked hard for a pair of singing birds in the treetops but never did locate them. It was another gorgeous day of sun, mountains (some with patches of snow at higher elevations), blue skies, wildflowers (beargrass, Indian paintbrush, many yellow-flowered species), fast-moving rivers and streams, and tall evergreens.

I turned onto Montana Highway 200 east of Missoula and stopped again at the same fishing access site on the Blackfoot that I had stopped by on my way west and watched the river and river travelers go by (rafts and kayaks). The opposite bank had steep cliffs with various birds flying about. This is so pleasurable as (I know, I know, I perseverate about this, but....), no bugs. I finally got to The Three Bears Motel (again) in Lincoln. At one point, all we travelers had to follow a pilot car for 30 miles as the road surface was being resealed or whatever. Still, moving slowly through this beautiful country, following the Blackfoot River, was fine.

This time in Lincoln, I did go to The Montanan Steak House for dinner which I had heard about when I stayed here three weeks ago. The food was above average, although the decor was typical western with country music and predictable stuff on the walls. A middle-aged waitress named Elly was perfect for this place: efficient and cheerful. She had raised her kids in Eugene or 17 years and had worked as a flagger for road construction until she "got heat stroke" before moving to Lincoln.

I had a lobster chowder, au gratin potatoes, green beans, fried shrimp and cheesecake with lemon curd (which I took back to the motel and ate later, sitting outside my room). All the food was tasty, especially the green beans and au gratin potatoes which were prepared individually on a small plate and were piping hot.

A deer ambled across the Highway as I was sitting outside and seemed unconcerned about traffic, which slowed to allow safe passage. The whole town has ponderosas all over. The population is less than 2000 in the winter but it isn't far from Missoula. It wouldn't be the worse place to live.

There were two youngish guys staying in The Three Bears also. I talked with them briefly. There were working as hydrologists on a Super Fund site on the Blackfoot River. The pollution is due to mining and is extensive. Ultimately, a mind-boggling amount of earth will be removed to clean up the poisons. 

Traveling ~ Eugene, OR to Ritzville, WA

June 26, 2013

I left Eugene late morning and drove over the mountains in gloomy, dismal, rainy weather. I took the Scenic Byway which had been closed three weeks earlier when I was heading west. Long vehicles are prohibited as the road is narrow with 200 curves. The nearly overwhelming flora dripped until I came into openness in the lava fields near the summit. There is also an observatory at the top although I have never stopped there.

The weather slowly cleared throughout the afternoon. I went through Sisters and Redmond and headed north to Maupin on the Deschutes river, so wishing the hawk I had seen last summer on a fence post just south of that little river town would be hanging around since, if it were, it would be a nice addition to my life list. This is my current nemesis bird - a ferruginous hawk - which I have been half-heartedly chasing for a year. It wasn't there but whateVer.

I took a new route north of Maupin, sometimes following the Deschutes and came upon an area of rushing white water with those fishing platforms, used by Native Americans, that look rickety and lean out over the falls. I then got on another precipitous road climbing out of the river valley. By the time I realize I'm going to have to traverse 5 to 10 miles of road with minimal shoulders and steep drop-offs, it's far too late to figure out alternatives. And, really, these roads aren't THAT bad and do have some protection in the form of intermittent guardrails but still are daunting to me. It doesn't happen often on the relatively main roads, but it was the second time on this particular trip that I hung onto the steering wheel and wondering how the locals who drive these roads all the time do it. Like in winter....with ice and snow.

As I neared the Columbia there were hundreds, if not thousands, of windmills, to the north and south, on both sides of the river. Every time I drive anywhere, but especially out west, I see more of these. Visually, for me, they have a silvery, spare beauty on the prairies and the high ridges along the river.

I got to the Columbia River late afternoon and the sun was out. I crossed at Biggs and drove on US14 (the road along the north side) to the Tri-Cities (Kennewick, Richland and Pasco) and then northweast to Ritzville. There is a Best Western on the edge of this little town with rooms on the west look over the land which is treeless here, quite flat, with distant horizons. Treeless on a clear summer evening means a long lingering daylight, twilight and nightfall. My first room had a window looking directly (10 feet away) into a wall of the motel so I immediately asked to be switched and then had a fine view while I worked for several hours with the windows open. The sound of traffic on I94 was not intrusive...

John Day, OR to EUgene, OR

June 9, 2013


The next morning was once again sunny.

I headed west and passed an espresso place, kind of out in the middle of nowhere, so I turned around and talked for 15 minutes to the lady who ran this business and who had owned it for 13 years. It was named after the highway, like Espresso 37 or something like that. She had an interesting story. Her husband (now her ex-husband from what I could tell) was a nuclear physicist but was born near a little town west of John Day. He worked at Oakridge in Tennessee (where they met I think) and they had also lived in South Haven, Michigan, when he worked on the plant there (the one with all the troubles). So she knew Michigan.

She loves her work. Not once does she awaken at "5 a.m. and hate to go to work." She lives just "up on that mountain" which she pointed out to me and which was a high hill across the road. Her husband or ex-husband retired and moved back and became the county sheriff. He had just retired from that job. She was attractive in that western madam way...blond with jewelry and bright clothes, carrying a few extra pounds, but totally at ease with herself. She talked me into checking out the Painted Hills, part of the John Day Fossil Beds. So I did. It was off the main road about six miles and worth seeing. There are always signs warning of rattlesnakes throughout much of the drier parts of the west on public lands as they were here also. The hills have horizontal reddish and various sand-colored striations. They are quite smooth and odd but beautiful. One could explore this region for days.

On and on until there was a sign saying "Wreck Ahead" and all traffic was stopped for about an hour in both directions. The road had been winding through forests and canyons, alternating with grasslands and ranches. Drivers got out of their vehicles, many of which were RVs. It was a gorgeous spot with no bugs, which I know I keep mentioning but imagine the most glorious Michigan day in the woods with no insects. A tiny creek ran at the botton of the canyon on one side, and huge ponderosas and other pines went up the hillside on the other. We all chatted and some of the guys joked about just camping out here as it was so beautiful. A couple brought out camp chairs for the duration. One guy wondered if it was raining in Portland where he was headed and where he lived because if it was, he would change his plans to return that day. I got that completely.

Finally, we moved on and saw two badly smashed cars. I looked this accident up online when I got to Eugene later that day. One driver was distracted it said, by "something outside of the car" and crossed the centerline. Six people had been transported to hospitals, two with serious but not "life-threatening" injuries which was good. I, of course, mused on the circumstances off and on for several hours. How a moment of inattention, especially on roads which are unforgiving, can have diastrous results.

At Sisters, Oregon, I was hungry but there was a rodeo and the town was buzzing. I couldn't find a parking place near a convenience store to buy some road food, so I went to a grocery store, but it was a discount store and I wanted a yuppie one. I walked across the parking lot and found myself in a bar that served food and had quesadillas.

I started over the Cascasdes on a route that wasn't yet opened for the summer and only realized it after ten miles so had to return to Sisters and take the alternate route. This area, on the lower eastern slopes of the Cascades has what I think of as ponderosa savannah. These straight tall trees have bark consisting of large reddish-brown, roughly rectangular pieces, and branches that begin very high up so there are open sunny and grassy spaces beneath the trees.

As I drove higher, I passed through lava fields which are amazing. There are miles and miles of black lava in rough, various-sized geometric chunks. There are occasional trees here and there which have somehow found enough nourishment and are growing out of this landscape of huge blocks of tumbled lava. One side of the highway is natural forest and the other is where the lava flow stopped but which extends to the horizon in that direction.

Then down the other side of the Cascasdes to Eugene, through millions of magnificent trees and shrubs and flowers and grasses and mosses. It is much more moist on this side, very noticeably different than the dry east side. I followed the beautiful McKenzie river to Eugene where it flows into the Willamette, the large river that runs through Eugene north to Portland and eventually into the Columbia.

The rivers are reason enough to travel the west...all that fast, lovely water, glinting silvery, more so in the sunshine, but also sparkling on misty grey days, with rocks and riffles and gravel bars and sandy beaches, with old weathered driftwood and newly uprooted trees continually changing the way the river runs.