The morning after my daughters and I arrive in Great Falls, Katie gives Becka a ride to Centerville, a small town out in the prairie about 20 miles from Great Falls where Becka went to high school. Becka has timed picking up her truck and visiting family to coincide with her class reunion. While she is at her reunion and Katie is on her way back to family and job in Wallace, Ang and my grandson, Oden, and I entertain ourselves by walking to nearby Gibson park to see the ducks and geese before we find a nice restaurant and treat ourselves to a good lunch. Later, back at the B&B, Matt joins us for a homemade dinner.
Sunday morning is centered around getting new tires on Becka’s truck, and then we go out to Giant Springs State Park, well known as one of the largest fresh water springs in the country and famous for the Roe River, once listed as the shortest river in the world. It is a beautiful park and we enjoy wandering about, glad that the weather is pleasant enough to do so, despite being a bit on the chilly breezy side.
Leaving Giant Springs, Becka, Ang, and I stop again at Sun River to see Matt and his kids. It is too late to go fishing, but we walk through the woods to the Sun River and hang out awhile, enjoying the time together.
Since it is a long drive back to Alberton, Becka, Ang, and I stop in Lincoln for dinner on the way, a nice break from driving/riding. It is very late and quite chilly by time we arrive back at Ang’s place.
The next day, Becka heads back to Wallace where she will have a warm and comfortable bed, but I spend another night in Terry and find out later that the temperature dropped to 15 degrees that night. Brrrr!
Clifford and I have enjoyed the past couple of months camped in western Montana and we will soon be making preparations for the journey to Arizona for the winter. But first, I have a couple more get togethers with family on my horizon.
The first visit is with my lovely daughter-in-law Tammy and two of her and my son Tye’s kids, Luke and Mariah. They have traveled from their home in Belgrade, Montana (near Bozeman) to see us. After breakfast together at a cafe near their motel, we go to Bass Creek, a short drive from where Clifford and I are parked at my sister Nancy’s place. A pleasant hike up the Bass Creek Trail is followed by a picnic.
It is quite interesting talking to these grandkids whom I have not seen for several years. They are smart and interesting and we have a good visit while enjoying the yummy food that Tammy brought. The next day, they make the return trip to Belgrade. It was great seeing them and I appreciate the time and effort they made to come.
A couple days later, after getting new tires on my Forester, I take the Graves Creek route over the mountain to visit Ang. It is the first time I’ve driven in a year, so it feels like quite an accomplishment!
That evening, daughters Becka, who is visiting from Hawaii, and Katie, who lives in Wallace, Idaho, arrive. Steaks are cooked on the grill over a campfire. It is great fun to see three of my four daughters all gathered around the campfire.
In the morning, the girls all come for coffee in Terry (the old RV where I stay when visiting Ang) before we head over the Swan Range and Roger’s Pass to Great Falls, as Becka needs to retrieve her “truck,” which was left there when she moved to Hawaii.
On the way, an interesting sight-seeing stop near Lincoln is a place called Sculpture in the Wild. Large somewhat odd sculptures made out of natural wood products, logs, willows, bound newspapers and so on are found scattered through the forest along a walking trail. This 26-acre sculpture garden is a vision of Rick Dunkerly, a knifemaker/ logger from Lincoln, Montana and Irish silversmith Kevin O’Dwyer. This sculpture garden features sculptors from many countries and reflects the nature of the Montana landscape and economy near Lincoln.
After admiring the sculptures and reading the kiosks along the trail, we head on to Sun River to see my son Matt and his two kids, Orion and Aurora. These grandkids are so grownup now!
Becka has rented an air B&B for us in Great Falls, a cute little house in the old residential section of Great Falls. After we settle in a bit, we all go to dinner in Black Eagle, a part of Great Falls that considers itself separate from Great Falls proper. At dinner, as I look at this gathering, I realize that they are all blood-related to me except for Matt’s ex who is still very much part of the family.
After two great weeks camping at Bass Creek Recreation Area in the Bitterroot Valley of western Montana, Clifford and I move to my sister Nancy’s back yard, once a horse pasture, now a great lawn surrounded by trees. Not only is it a pleasant place to stay, we have electricity not dependent upon solar panels, a rarity for us.
Sitting in the morning sunshine with our hot coffee, Nancy and I begin looking through the photos albums that were once Mom’s. These albums go back many years, including photos from our childhood. It is fun and interesting to see these photos before passing the albums onto our sister Lillian.
The morning light is delightful as I walkabout for photos, and sometimes Nancy and I walk through the woods down to a side channel of the Bitterroot River.
For my daughter’s Ang’s birthday, we have a small family get-together at the Lumberjack for lunch and then we play music on the deck. It is really quite a fun afternoon for all of us.
Our days are filled with projects. Clifford is reviewing some of his research papers, while I work on edits for a couple of authors, do Qigong, especially appreciating the benefits of the Healthy Heart Routine, and write in my journals.
In mid-September there are a few smoky days, but not nearly as bad as what Montana was experiencing earlier in the summer.
When the weather cools, misty mornings provide photo opportunities.
One Sunday, Nancy and I go visit Ang and grandson Oden.
It is delightful to have dinner cooked over a campfire with the ambiance of the mountains and trees all around us.
Nancy and I also admire oil paintings that Ang has completed in recent months.
Near the end of September, I spend several days with Ang, staying in Terry, the old RV that Clifford and I bought after we got caught in a blizzard in our pop-up a couple of years ago. While I am here, Ang and I enjoy the warmth of the wood stove as we work steadily on the edits for her epic fantasy series, The Novels of Shannon.
Soon it is time for me to head back down the mountain.
October is just around the corner and other family get-togethers are in the works before Clifford and I head to Arizona for the winter.
Two weeks of camping at the Charles Waters Campground, tucked into the foot of the Bitterroot Range, south of Missoula, Montana, is a delight to me. We are surrounded by mountains and trees, and Bass Creek is nearby. My idea of a great camping place, for sure, and Clifford likes it here, also.
Walks at sunrise are a favorite activity for me, especially on the morning when mist hangs low in the nearby drainage. I also find delight in taking my journal and a cup of delicious organic French Press coffee out to the edge of the meadow to sit with the beauty and the silence before other campers begin their noisy day.
One of our first days here, my daughter Ang, quite the handyman, comes with supplies and tools to fix the damage to the underside of the RV caused by the tire blow-out when we were still back in Idaho on our way here. The steel belts of a blown tire cut deeply into the underside of an RV, as anyone who has experienced such an unfortunate event knows. We are glad for her skill and promptness in repairing this for us! Another day, Ang and another daughter, Merri, come for a picnic lunch. It is great to see them after such a long time, since covid prevented travel to Montana in 2020.
My sister Nancy comes several times and we hike Bass Creek Trail, a great hiking trail that somewhat parallels the creek tumbling down the drainage.
There are subtle signs of autumn as August and our two-week camping limit come to a close.
Fortunately, Nancy has a big back yard, once a horse pasture, but now a great big lawn area surrounded by trees, where we will be setting up for awhile. I will miss the creek, but Nancy’s place will be pleasant for us.
On Sunday morning, August 15, Clifford and I prepare to leave our Hip Camp as soon as possible to get through Salt Lake City in a timely manner. The further north we go, the smokier and hotter it is.
South of Pocotello, Idaho, we experience one of the worst things for travelers – a blow out on the RV. Yikes! Fortunately Clifford is able to maintain control and we get safely stopped alongside I-15. In the 95+ degree weather with absolutely no shade, Clifford begins the ordeal of changing the tire, having to unhitch and jack up the RV, and the whole tire-changing routine is done with semis whizzing by at breath-taking speeds.
As he is finishing, a fellow stops to help and even though the tire has been changed, this man is able to take care of the problem we’ve been having with the RV brakes. A piece of serendipity.
We arrive at the Idaho Falls, Idaho, Walmart in early evening with the intention of getting new tires. This Walmart does not have the tires we need and we spend the night in the crowded lower parking lot along with other Rvers.
First thing Monday morning we find the Big O Tires and they fit us into their busy schedule. With new tires, we continue the northward journey. It has been a long hot day and we are looking forward to arriving our destination – the Divide Bridge BLM Campground south of Butte, Montana.
We have stayed at this campground along the Big Hole River several times. At the turn off to the campground, we are disappointed to see that it is closed, as it is being used as a fire-fighting staging area. Why was this not posted at the exit??? We have no choice but to continue on up highway 43 until we find a spot big enough to do a U-turn with Cougar and then make our way back to I-15.
Hooray for rest areas, especially those that are large with clean facilities. We pull into the one south of Butte and park at the far end as the sun sets red. The smoke is so dense we can scarcely see the surrounding countryside. This will be our spot for tonight and we are grateful for safe accommodations.
Although it’s only been three months since Clifford and I returned to Monticello from last winter’s Arizona home, it feels longer since so much has happened. We’ve sold the lab/home base and gotten rid of almost everything we own. Even though I was not enthusiastic about moving to Monticello, it is still hard to leave all that was good and stable about being here.
As we leave this time, it is different than ever before, as there is no home base to come home to. Cougar (our 24’ RV) towed by the old Suburban is IT. It is our full-time home now. We finish last-minute items on the final to-do list and are on the road in the early afternoon of Thursday, August 12th. It is a hot (99 degrees in Moab as we go through), hazy (wild fires abound in western US), and dreary drive to Price, Utah.
We arrive at the Price Walmart parking lot in the early evening, glad to be off the highway. Going into Walmart is a welcome breath of cool air, but sensory overload. We have not been to Walmart in over 2 ½ years; the well-stocked store is bright with color and sound. Even though I don’t feel great after the hot drive, it is interesting to browse as though I have never been in a Walmart store before.
The next morning, we pick up a few more supplies and then head north to Provo where Clifford has reserved a spot at a “Hip Camp.” A hip camp is about what it sounds like, a place between cool and funky, a place where someone can make a few bucks by letting travelers camp in their backyard. This place is, no doubt, the epitome of just that. Our bearded camp host, an old hippie, says we can park anywhere and points out a grassy spot under a big tree next to a mud puddle where ducks are happily splashing about.
Even better, there is a back gate that opens onto the bike trail along the Provo River. A foot bridge gives us access to the Provo City Riverside Park. We spend the next day in the park in a shelter alongside the Provo River, picnicking and playing music. We are grateful for the cool shade of the trees and the ambiance of the river.
This Hip Camp has been a very pleasant stop for us.
Our time camped south of Ash Fork, Arizona, goes by quickly. The last days there are not very comfortable for me due to the wind and the stress of being on the move again and my heart feels a bit uneasy, but I am happy to be alive! We have enjoyed this peaceful location situated among the junipers, but it is soon time for us to take the next leg of the journey back to home-base in Utah.
Our first destination is a forest road north of Flagstaff. We are up early and ready to go, planning on getting out ahead of the wind, but by time we are on I-40 heading east, the wind, the semis, and the uneven terrain make for very difficult driving conditions. Had we known how much the wind was going to pick up, we would probably have stayed at camp longer, but after a stressful drive, we are relieved to arrive at the forest road north of Flagstaff where we spend a comfortable night.
The next morning we leave for Monticello.
With the wind and traffic, it is a long drive, but by mid-afternoon we are back in Monticello.
There are big changes ahead in the next weeks, but for a few days I just enjoy having the space of the home-base, especially my writing table at the east-facing sliding glass doors….
Right when our two-week time limit at Powell Springs is up, Clifford is sick and the wind is blowing up a big storm, so consequently we end up staying longer. The ranger who stops to check on us is very nice about it.
Where to go next has been the question, and even with our exploratory drives and studying the maps, we have not come up with a good next destination until we hear from Tony, who invites us to join him on a forest road south of Ash Fork, Arizona. He left Powell Springs a couple days ago. Before he left we tried to figure out where we might both go, but things didn’t seem to be working out, wind and weather being an issue. However, his suggestion works for us, and we head north on highway 89 to the forest road turnoff. It is a nerve-wracking drive on highway 89 with way too much fast traffic for this highway. It is a relief to arrive at the forest road and find Tony, and we soon get ourselves set up nearby in a stand of pinon pine and juniper.
We are grateful for our spot here, despite the trash left by others. I pick up around our campsite, but disposing of trash is problematic, so I have to let much of the rest of it go.
I go walking most days, just because it is part of the regimen established for stabilizing the heart. I’m always on the lookout for flowers on my walkabouts, happy to find a few here and there.
Daily activities include music and editing and visits with Tony while we are camped in this peaceful location.
We drive to Prescott Valley, about 30 miles to the south from where we are now camped, and more work is done on the Suburban . Several days and many $$$ later, we have important repairs done that, while expensive, are very important for the safety factor involved in towing an RV.
After we spend two weeks here, we make plans to begin the journey back to Monticello homebase. It has been a good and peaceful spot on the route northward and we look forward to perhaps coming this way another time.
When I am not out sauntering about the forest near our campsite at Powell Springs, I have a favorite spot under the alligator juniper near our front door. It is a great place to read, write, and enjoy a morning cup of coffee or afternoon tea. There are days when I play the cello outside. Along with these activities, domestic chores, editing and blog-writing fill my days.
Clifford works with his ham radio and he also has a favorite outdoor spot where he spends as much time as possible playing the dulcimer and singing, the secret side of his life after 20+ years as the scientist devoting hour upon hour to his research.
Over the two weeks that we camp near Powell Springs Campground, along with the usual camp activities, Clifford and I go hiking a couple times, not with any particular destination in mind, except for one hike looking for and finding Powell Spring.
We also go for a couple drives to explore the general region to have ideas of future camping spots. On one of these outings, the Suburban starts making a rather unpleasant sound, but we make it back to camp and then to Big O in Prescott Valley. The immediate problem is taken care of, but other issues will have to be taken care of as soon as possible. But in the meantime, we will enjoy our last days camped at Powell Springs, grateful for having found this beautiful camping area.
Camping in one of the dispersed sites near the Powell Springs Campground in northern Arizona is a big switch from wintering at Quartzsite in southwest Arizona. Although this area is considered desert, the road from highway 169 up to Powell Springs is a transition from desert to a pocket of pines and other forest vegetation. It is so refreshing to be among tall trees and lush green shrubs.
On our first full day here, Clifford and I hike all the way around a large mound to the east of our campsite, getting a feel for the lay of the land.
Most mornings I climb the nearest rock mound at sunrise. As I become familiar with the area, I go further away from camp, accompanied by my little thermos of tea.
One morning I encounter our neighbor and his dog as they are returning from their early morning hike. Camping as we do, we seldom get to know other people, but I invite Tony to come over when he hears music, as Clifford plays his dulcimer outside almost every day. Tony and Kimber do come over, and we strike up a friendship, including learning of the beautiful leather work that Tony does. I even commission him to make a sheath specifically for the knife that my son Tye made for me.
Of all the places that we have camped in our years of travel, this is one of my most favorite.