Despite the chilly nights, I spend a couple more days visiting my daughter Ang. The western larch turning gold and a dusting of snow is a reminder that winter is just around the corner.
In mid-October, my sister Nancy and I make a trip to Wallace to visit Katie. The drive to Wallace is quite beautiful with the cottonwoods along the Clark Fork River and the western larch on the mountainsides all dressed in their autumn colors.
Upon our arrival in Wallace, my daughter Katie shows us the apartment that she has renovated for her family above the historic Metals Bar, which she now owns.
We have a tasty lunch at the Blackboard Cafe and stroll around Wallace admiring the autumn colors and the historic buildings, many of which were built out of brick after the infamous forest fires of 1910 destroyed part of the town.
Then Nancy and I go for a hike on the Pulaski Trail. That trail was one of my favorite places when Clifford and I lived in Wallace. Nancy and I hike a half mile to the waterfall that I used to call Fairyland Falls.
After the hike, we say good-bye to Katie and head back to Florence.
A stop at Elmer’s Fountain, a natural artesian well just a few miles from Wallace finishes off a full day-trip and we arrive back in Florence just before dark.
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.
Yesterday afternoon, we discovered that our intended destination, Divide Bridge Camp-ground, has been converted to a forest fire staging area. We continued driving north on I-15 to the rest stop south of Butte, glad to find a place to pull over for the night after a long hot day of driving through the heavy forest fire smoke that has obscured the landscape since we left Provo, Utah, a couple days ago.
We spend all day (Tuesday) at the rest stop, as it is too windy for safe travel. I help Clifford with rewiring the old backup camera, as the new one is still not working. We are outside with wires and tools spread out when a thunderstorm blows in making the work more difficult, but the cool moisture is much appreciated.
The rain continues into the night and this morning (Wednesday) there is a drizzle. A photo taken yesterday, pale grey with smoke, is almost indistinguishable from a photo this morning of the drizzle, but the drizzle sure feels better!
We leave the rest area about noon and as we travel west, the air quality improves and the 90+ degrees of the past days is replaced with a high of 58 degrees.
I thought we might stop at a rest area east of Missoula to spend the night, but Clifford decides to push on through to the Charles Waters Campground in the Bass Creek Recreation Area in the Bitterroot Valley south of Missoula. We arrive about 4:30 with only three sites available to choose from. Although I prefer the creekside camps, we choose a campsite that will receive enough sunlight for the solar panels.
After a visit say Hello to Bass Creek, I get the kitchen set up while Clifford gets antennas and ham shack functional.
This site has a pleasing mix of meadow and tall Ponderosa pines as well as shrubs and other evergreens. It will be a very nice place for us to spend the next two weeks. We are happy to be here!
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.
It is August now and western United States is hot and dry with many wildfires, but it has not been too bad here in Monticello, Utah. Even though Monticello and nearby Abajo Mountain have thus far escaped the ravages of wildfires, there are a couple of days when smoke lies heavily in the valley, obscuring Abajo from view.
Clifford and I discuss whether we should stay in Monticello longer or begin the trip to Montana and hope it cools off by time we get there.
The sale of the house is underway, but there are many things yet to take care of such as moving the last items out of the house and getting Cougar (our RV) ready to be our full-time home, including a major readjustment of living space functionality.
Downsizing from this place, once a small church, to a 24-foot RV has been a real challenge. We have given away hundreds to thousands of dollars worth of stuff – furniture, lab equipment, clothing, dishes, books, and so on. There is no turning back at this point, so it looks like we will aim for the small break in the temperature that we see shaping up in Montana in about a week.
My source of greatest peace during these last days is the time I spend in the backyard either on the deck watching the birds, sipping coffee and journaling, or sitting under the pine and spruce trees at the back, grateful for shade and their ambiance.
As I journal, I think about the difference between being motivated and being inspired. Being motivated comes from need – the need to eat, the need to have clean clothes, and so on, while being inspired comes from some deeper richer place. I seem to be doing most things based on motivation (need) rather than inner source (inspiration). In sitting quietly with the question of how to move from motivation to inspiration, I find the answer is that feeling satisfaction is the only gauge I need at this time. If the activity is satisfying, do it if I want to (cook, wash dishes, play the fiddle); if not satisfying, let it go for the time being. That makes sense given the current circumstances.
Some days I walk early while it is still cool, one day going as far as the cemetery, a peaceful place where I’ve never been before. Maybe I’ll come here again before we leave.
We make the final trip to Clifford’s storage unit in the nearby town of Blanding and stop at Recapture Reservoir on our way back to Monticello – one last chance for me to take photos there.
On August 10, we do the final walkabout of the house and yard with our checklist, repack the Suburban, and get Cougar ready for travel. I say good-bye to the backyard, the trees, and all that is being left behind.
As many folks know, a major move challenges the hardiest of souls. In retrospect, I can only say that that I am grateful for having survived July 2021. Consolidating all my belongings into what will fit into a 5 x10 storage unit is challenging to the max. A ba-jillion decisions have to be made, and since much of what I am sorting requires my personal attention, many nights I am still working at midnight. Clifford has hired people to help him with packing up the items from the non-profit lab that are to be kept, but even with help, it is a big job.
While it appears that chaos reigns, slowly but surely everything is sorted and packed for storage or put out on the FREE tables. Clifford’s stuff is hauled to his storage unit in a nearby town. The conundrum of how and where to move my stuff is resolved when my daughter Ang and her friend Rama drive all the way from western Montana to southeast Utah to get the U-haul cargo trailer, which is all packed and ready to go, and drive all the way back in two days. I so enjoy seeing them and wish they could have had a relaxed visit, but they have obligations back in Montana.
It is hot hot hot at both ends and all along the way for them, making the journey and the unloading a real challenge of endurance and fortitude. Thank you, Ang and Rama!
Through all of this, the saving grace is my quiet early morning time sitting on the deck in back with a good cup of coffee, some inspirational reading, and my journal.
Although there aren’t many flowers in the yard and no trips up the mountain, I watch for the photo opportunities that bring me joy, namely colorful blossoms, from milkweed and dandelions to the beautiful Rose of Sharon shrub in the front yard.
Most days we manage to fit in a bit of music, playing with the UK folk group on zoom as I learn to read music on The Fiddle with Clifford playing dulcimer. In his spare moments, Clifford begins recording songs he has been singing, a new passion in his life. Or maybe a secret passion opening up. I’m not sure.
Once my stuff is gone, the focus shifts to preparing the house for the realtor. Scrubbing, mopping, vacuuming throughout the house and spiffing up the backyard take precedence, along with preparing Cougar, our RV, to be our full-time home.
Toward the end of July, monsoons finally make an appearance and great thunderheads, rain, and rainbows are a welcome relief to the hot dry days of most of July.