Where It’s Not — Part Three

Posted on September 7, 2013 by waterhigh

In the morning, I drove through the tunnel, past Mummy Cave, and the BB Dam again. About the time I stopped to pay my entrance fee to Yellowstone Park, I was struck by a blaze — the blinding kind you get before a migraine, if you’re subject to auras.

At home my remedy would have been to boil water, brew green tea with half a capsule of feverfew, and hit a dark room with an eye mask. On a 2-lane winding highway, I popped a cola for caffeine and downed Excedrin, and took a time out at a pull-out. Then I spent more time at the ranger station/stuffed animal museum. In the shade.

The ranger called the lone bison I’d seen a “fed-up bull” — fed up of fighting the young bulls in the herd, and at an age where he prefers to go it alone.

There were 5 fires burning in Yellowstone Park at the time, a few pull-outs were closed, but no roads closed that day. I remembered the summer of 1988 and the massive fires in Yellowstone. We could smell the smoke all the way over in Minnesota.

Fishing Bridge

So far, going solo hadn’t been a problem (except for getting creeped out by a guy in a van who asked me where I was from. He had just been staring at my license plate, so I thought it was not a real question. This happened back at the Oregon Trail ruts and Register Cliff where we seemed to be the only tourists out in the 105 degree weather. Not a good sign. Maybe it was nothing, but I didn’t like being followed.)

West Thumb of Yellowstone Lake

Another reason I’m going to bring Mr. W next time came about at Isa Lake.

Lily Pads at the Continental Divide? Is there a frog?

I really wanted to wade into the lily pads to see what was at the end of an under-water marker, but a couple (searchers??) from Salt Lake City was kinda killin’ time, like they were waiting for me to leave.

I won, but then realized, typical female, I didn’t have the right shoes.

Also, I saw strange underwater bugs, a possible fluke-wiry worm, and a very fast little pond-hugging, mole-nosed rodent running towards me. The picture that was supposed to of him is a blur of me jumping out of his way.

Yikes!

I don’t think I screamed.

From there, not far but too far to walk, I arrived at Old Faithful at the perfect time. People were streaming towards it so I parked and joined them. Another geyser was putting on a show at the same time. Serendipity strikes again.

And then, something else. Remember I left home without a GPS? The only place I might have needed it this trip was in the parking lot at Old Faithful Lodge and Visitor Center. It’s changed in the last 15 years apparently. The other thing about migraines is the mental shadow they leave you with. It took me an extra 15 minutes (or so) to find my car, and then I scared a poor family picnicking next to it when the alarm went off.

I passed another lone bison as I continued west. My heart goes out to the old and lonely.

On to the much discussed Firehole River and Canyon. Is it “Where Warm Waters Halt”? I couldn’t say.

And then, of course, the much touted Madison River, which had lots of giant boulders lying around.

I tarried as much as I wanted that day. I had a reservation for that night in West Yellowstone, so no need to hurry. Just tried to absorb the beauty and if a potential solution to one of the TTOTC 9 clues presented itself, all the better.

No treasure yet, but so far, so good. Any day that doesn’t involve a trip to the hospital is a big plus.

25 years after 1988, Yellowstone reflects change wrought by fire (ravallirepublic.com)
August pushes Yellowstone visitation over 2.5 million (billingsgazette.com)

Blackberry Moon

Posted on August 8, 2013 by waterhigh

Tiny thing

Yes. Another frog. This little guy posed for me this morning while I was gathering wild blackberries.

(Courtesy note: no new Forrest Fenn/Thrill of the Chase Treasure Hunt clues in here. Just frogs and flutterbys….)

By the time I put the last batch through the juicer to take out the seeds on Tuesday, I ended up with only 9 half-pints of jam. Not enough for Christmas gifting and a year’s supply for us. Not a problem. There are plenty more out there.

Blackberry thorns are meaner than the wild raspberry’s, which ripen in June. So, I armored up, grabbed water, my phone, and my camera. Ready or not, I still missed a shot of the deer and fawn getting a drink. And darn it—the butterflies just won’t sit still for me.

I’ve seen several black and blue swallowtails, very large yellow butterflys, small ones, a tiny blue one, but only 3 monarchs fluttered by this year.

English: Photograph of a Monarch Butterfly. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The monarchs are in some distress.

milkweed

I’ve got plenty of milkweed plants for them (want some seeds?), but I heard they’re not making it past the Texas drought area. There are several generations per summer. The final generation flies all the way back to Mexico to winter in a particular area.

The bigger disaster for their population was 2 winters ago. I remember hearing that a hailstorm hit their winter haven and decimated the flock. Crop Duster

Another issue is the ubiquitous use of pesticides which don’t discriminate between life forms based on desirability. Don’t you wonder what they’re spraying up there? Fungicides, pesticides, herbicides, peoplecides. And why, if the biotech transgenetics are so wonderful?

US distribution of Japanese Beetle, (This map is not entirely accurate. Infestation is established much farther west at least to the Oklahoma line.) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

About the berries. I don’t pick along the fencelines where the neighbors are raising corn and soybeans. So, yes. There are occasional bugs in the bucket. But, I’d rather remove them myself than pollute my food.

Still. I’m really not happy with the voracious Japanese beetles who moved into the neighborhood 3 summers ago. First it was the grapevines. Then the rosebush. This year the orchard. The bright side? The chickens come running when I shake them out of the trees.

Japanese beetles foraging on grapevine

Where are all the monarch butterflies this year? (ctvnews.ca)
Why monarch butterflies’ numbers are in freefall (theglobeandmail.com)
This one’s cute: How A Frog Fights Rain (ramanan50.wordpress.com)

SCARED IN THE SKIES! Man Takes Friend Who is AFRAID of Flying on Aerobatics Flight

Posted on August 7, 2013 by waterhigh

This is funny, in a terrifying sort of way.

Profanity Trail (Photo credit: found_drama)

[Warning: put on mute if bad language offends you]

Click on this: SCARED IN THE SKIES! Man Takes Friend Who is AFRAID of Flying on Aerobatics Flight.

I can relate. A friend once took me up in a tiny plane, sans the aerobics; just a mighty crosswind on landing.

Thank you, Jim. It was unforgettable. : )

Hackles and Cackles

Posted on July 16, 2013 by waterhigh

The greenest Badlands I ever saw

It’s been a little quiet on the western front. Maybe the searchers have boots on the ground. Only so many weeks before the snow flies again. . . .

Color Plate A from Favorite Flies and Their Histories – Mary Orvis Marbury, 1892 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So, until the next Today Show clue from Forrest Fenn, you might want to visit Dal’s blog and see the latest video interviews he did with Mr. Fenn. There are several under the heading “Gone Fishing”.

They are not all related to the sport, but I especially enjoyed watching Forrest tie a Woolly Worm. He made it look easy.

I have, rather, will have, some of the raw materials, when this guy and his cousins grow up.

Junior Hackles

I’m just not sure how (or IF) it’s going to go from A to B, so to speak.

Wall Drug and the Badlands National Park (colescruising.com)

Prairie Ablaze

Posted on July 10, 2013 by waterhigh

Okay.
Spiderwort.
Coneflower.
Brown-eyed susan.
But, help me out here, what the heck is that “home of Brown”?

Happy Fourth of July

Posted on July 4, 2013 by waterhigh

First fish?

When I was a child, the 4th meant an outdoor fish fry at my grandparent’s and a contest for the biggest fish caught in the backyard pond. I won once with an ugly bullhead.

I went on to bigger and better fish stories. One, How Not to Catch a Muskie. Short version: I caught one, but was by myself without a camera. (My husband agreed to watch the baby so I could get out early.) It’s a good thing, however, that no one in the far off boats had a video camera. It might have shown up on America’s Funniest. I had it in and out of the boat a few times while I looked up the regulations, tried to measure it, put it back. A bit excited, I started the motor to roar back to the cabin before I remembered to pull up the anchor.

That was a while ago. Later on I found fishing a bit frustrating. I’d be baiting hooks for one child or untangling knots, while the youngest, (Intrepid, remember her), would be tossing toys, and then the worms, over the side of the boat to watch them disappear.

And then, oh, joy, in Minnesota, my husband got a fish finder. After he’d get tired of criss-crossing the lakes and complaining about the lack of fish biting, I’d suggest a spot to stop and drift across.

“No, hon, please don’t even use the trolling motor.”

It kinda bugged him when I would then pull in a northern or two. {Not complaining. Really. He’s a keeper!}

Lewis and Clark but not in the Rockies

That picture at the top is my dad and grandpa, and my grandma’s shadow. I come from a long line of fishermen. Some of my earliest memories are of camping in an already ancient army umbrella tent, and having to pee in the minnow bucket when our family of 5 was way out on a big lake in a rowboat with a tiny Johnson outboard. Those were my mom’s years of untangling kids’ fishline.

I’ll have to look for a picture of the tent. It’s one my great-grandmother used when she went to Traverse City to escape the pollen down here. I remember the smell of the old canvas. One of my first memories is of lying on the floor of that tent during a dark and stormy night watching my mom hold the center pole upright in the wind, thunder and lightning. I asked her later where Dad was. Out watching the storm, she said.

Misty morning in Glacier National Park

He knew things. Like, “Put your back to the wind. The storm will come from the left.”

I mentioned the Nimrod in an earlier post. It occurs to me that many readers might be clueless, so here is a photo when it was 8 yrs old. Out west. You pull out the sides, prop them up, and pull out poles and snap the tent to the sides, and Voila! The boys got one side, my folks, the other. I got the convertible bench seat/dining table/bed that my carpenter father built in.

Hmm. The Utah side of the park is out of the Thrill of the Chase search, but that leaves the Colorado side. . . .

That was it’s second trip out west. There was one big loop out east, swinging through Detroit, Canada, Maine, Niagara Falls, and back to a great beach on the Canadian shores of Lake Huron. Still a great site. About the only place my husband will camp. (Cabins are okay, but someone has to do housework…..People pitch in when you camp.)

Oops. I mentioned a couple of my favorite places. At least I didn’t put too fine a point on it. That’s one reason I never wanted to be travel writer—didn’t want to attract a crowd and spoil the peace and quiet of special places.

Columbine

Massive rockslide closes parts of Dinosaur Nat’l Monument (summitcountyvoice.com)
Big beargrass bloom underway in Glacier National Park (missoulian.com)
Day 7: Multnomah Falls and Lolo Pass (x127lot.wordpress.com)

Chasing Idaho

Posted on July 1, 2013 by waterhigh

The Fisherman

Not a long post. Just wanted to mention the 2 new pages on this site: Flywater, filed under The Book, and Idaho, filed under The Diagrams. (A great and future destination.)

Okay. I have mixed feelings about crossing Idaho off my top three TTOTC list, but that’s okay.

Raspberry Trove

There’s so much to be done.

Count all the bees in the hive.

Pick another batch of berries.

Pit the cherries.

Riches New and Old…

Posted on June 10, 2013 by waterhigh

Something Old

We just celebrated a 90th birthday in the family. One of the “Fennster’s” has a newborn. Treasures all.

Get a new hat, custom fit.

If you head west in search of the chest this summer, remember to enjoy the sights along the way—just in case you don’t go home with the gold or bronze. Find some other nuggets or gems to share.

At least take some pictures so when you approach 90, you’ll have something to jog your memory.

Old barn in an ancient valley

Meadowlarks and “Flutterbys”

Posted on May 31, 2013 by waterhigh

The most beautiful birdsong is that of the meadowlark. I miss them. I’m a hundred plus miles distant from where I grew up. Even twenty-five miles away from the farm, and twenty years later, the song was not the same. It was truncated, not as sweet somehow.

I can’t imagine they’d make very good eating, but I won’t judge what hunger necessitates. (See the TTOTC book and One of These Things is Not Like the Other.)

Lewis and Clark, other early explorers, traders, and the emigrants that followed, even contemporary travelers, have found themselves in dire straights in cold mountains and hot deserts.

This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Malay Wikipedia for the 1st week, 2010. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I know a woman who didn’t learn until she was nearing fifty that her father had spent a year in Stateville for stealing a chicken. Four kids to feed. Had lost a farm and home due to fire before the Depression hit. Even so.

She remembers at four or five overhearing adults discussing an eviction. One of them saying, “Well, I can’t kick them out in the cold.”

Purple Prairie Coneflower

Summer always returns. Here we have Indigo buntings, hummingbirds, cardinals and vultures. Prairie flowers and butterflies galore. (At least, until the chemicals and transgenics get them.)

I’ve never known hunger. Not like that. And I hope our children never do. It’s so much nicer when they can enjoy and observe the “flutterbys”.

Serendipity

Posted on May 21, 2013 by waterhigh

The morels and asparagas already gone, I wandered a washed field on Mother’s Day afternoon and found a trove of arrowheads, mostly pieces. Like gold and fish, they are where you find them. I think luck plays a part, but also some logic and imagination. To find Forrest Fenn’s The Thrill of the Chase treasure, it will take all of the above. And research. He says the lucky finder will be able to walk right to it, deliberately.

And so, we seekers continue our research and refine our plans. A simple Venn diagram (see Wikipedia) is a series of overlapping circles yielding useful data. A Fenn diagram is going to look more like a flow chart

Flowchart (Photo credit: BWJones)

branching off each time a clue has more than one solution. There are so many diagrams because no one knows where to begin. Well, we might think we do.

I thought at first it would be a simple fill-in-the-blank game. Decide where the warm waters halt, where to put in, and what the blaze is. Okay. But ‘halt’ has many meanings, likewise ‘warm waters’, even ‘warm’. And then you start to wonder, what does ‘it’ even mean!

A couple weeks ago, I came up with an utterly unique answer for “where warm waters halt”. This week, I even found a butterfly connection.

So, maybe the Chase isn’t keeping me away from the internet, but it has gotten me into the library, especially the history section. Here’s to all your discoveries made along the way. Enjoy.