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Words Days 14 - 15
Day 14
August 25
A pleasant morning with the Bauer family-good breakfast, talk, and then Grayson and Larry playing a little music in the living room. (pic) Larry plays a 12 string guitar, which he also used at the reading-an instrumental piece of his own composition.
As we were packing up the car, 4 year-old Paul said to Grayson, “Aren't you staying forever?”
The Bauer's headed out to a family gathering a few hours away and we headed into downtown Helena to explore a bit more. One of the first things we found was a block-long Farmer's and Craft Market. Fruit, vegetables, honey, hand-made soaps, breads, jewelry, herbs, raw wool, a Native American flute player and on and on. A pleasant and varied open market.
Adjacent to the street used for the market was the Women's Park where a Fairy Festival was being held. Tarot readings, henna tattoos, various individuals selling homemade items and other people selling herbal mixtures and New Age paraphernalia.
While there a fire-swallower gave a performance. (pic) He had a beard and long hair and I couldn't help but think of my friend Harry (so many years ago) telling me about a neighbor who died while burning leaves - his beard caught on fire. Fortunately, no tragedy this time - just an amazing performance of something I have no interest in ever trying myself.
We left Helena in the late afternoon and headed east toward Billings. This was the turning point on the journey, we had gone as far west as we would go-now we were heading easterly, working our way back home. I still had two programs to present, in Billings and Rapid City, but this was the start of the return.
Two weeks away and the general consensus was that we were missing home. I somewhat felt I was just getting into the being on the road, but I also missed Wheeler Hill. Another week and we'll be back.
After checking a few campsites in the Lewis and Clark National Forest we ended up settling for a night in the Little Belt Mountains. As I was filling out the camp permit I got talking with father and son motorcyclists who were also camping there for the night. They were from Saskatchewan and were just out for a few days, traveling as far as they could in the time that they had. I mentioned Gordon Lightfoot and a quote of his from an old song, “The Mountains and Marian” -
“Saskatchewan,
here's mud in your eye,
I'm leaving you behind.”
They chuckled, but also said Saskatchewan is more than just farmland and flatland. I know what they mean - Iowa is so much more than just cornfields.
Day 15
August 26
The Mountain Chickadee. I've been into birding for a long time. One of the birds I want to see someday before I leave this realm is a Boreal Chickadee. I've been in areas that they inhabit - Adirondacks, Maine, other northern places - but haven't yet seen one. It's a quest that I don't pursue actively, but passively wait for the moment when we cross paths. I saw the Mountain Chickadee in Yellowstone, while we were hiking up Elephant's Back, but Chapin didn't see it. Again, I heard one calling as we hiked up to Beehive Basin in the Metcalf Wilderness, but none of us saw it.
At the campground that morning I heard one calling and alerted Chapin. He came out to the camp road with his binoculars and waited patiently to get a view of one. His patience was rewarded and he finally caught sight of a Mountain Chickadee and was able to add it to his life list. Now, when will I be able to add a Boreal Chickadee to my life experience?
Before heading down the road to Billings we decided to hike up to Memorial Falls, just a mile down the road. (pic) A good hike, as they all are, and a nice experience hiking along a narrow gorge and getting to a picturesque waterfall.
Then we headed down the road, south then east, towards Billings, not sure where we were going to put up for the night.
In White Sulphur Springs, a small town we drove through the day before on the way to the campground, there were some murals warning against meth use. (pic) We had noticed other signs of that nature while driving through Montana. I wondered whether that was a bigger problem here than in other places. Probably not.
As we headed east, toward Billings, we followed along the Yellowstone River. The mountains eventually were left behind and we moved into rolling hill, bluff and butte eastern Montana country. Very picturesque country. The Yellowstone River runs through most of Montana, joining the Missouri just over the border in North Dakota. It curves around, lined by bluffs here and there.
One stop we had to make along the way was at Greycliff Prairie Dog State Park. This is a 98 acre park dedicated to Prairie Dogs. No camping or other amenities to speak of - just Prairie Dogs - which is more than enough. They are everywhere it seems. Popping up and down out of their holes, sitting up on their haunches, barking out warnings. Not the dramatic bison, elk, grizzlies of Yellowstone, but as fascinating in its own way. Nice to experience one more of the western animals in its own habitat.
We weren't sure where we were going to camp for the evening and ended up at the edge of Billings and set up camp at a Good Sam Park Campground. I had never stayed in one of these kinds of campgrounds - Good Sam, KOA - but after a long day of driving, feeling a bit drained, a bit sweaty and dirty from the road miles, a hot shower, swimming pool didn't sound too bad. So we splurged for the extra dollars and set up in the tent area, which was closest to the Yellowstone River. There was one other tent set up - the rest of the place was taken up by RV's and the suburban camping crowd. It actually seemed like some folks live in the spaces for the summer - flower pots outside the door, other somewhat permanent decorations.
The showers were fine, the pool pleasurable. Being on the far end of the campground, we were somewhat separated from the suburban feel of the place. Chapin and I took a walk to the river, about a third of a mile or so. A couple hundred foot bluffs lined the opposite shore and there was very little sign of nearness to city. Other than the cost, this wasn't all that bad a place to put up the tent, settle in for a night.
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