Alaska 2020........Yellowstone National Park

July 7-9

Yellowstone River.....Gardiner, MT

The highway south from Fort Belknap to Gardiner was long and straight. Storms brewed and an occasional flash of lightening angled toward the wide open range. Traffic wasn't a problem, with a speed limit of 75 mph, aided by unlimited visibility, those who encountered us passed with ease. We wouldn't be flying to Anchorage for a week so a tour of Yellowstone seemed in order.

Gardiner is one of two northern entrances to Yellowstone Park, the other being the northeast entrance near Cody, WY. We decided we could see most of the park by making a loop that would spit us out in West Yellowstone. From there we could go to Ennis, Montana and relive some adventures shared there with our son Levi, his friend Brian and Brian's family. Little did we know how strongly Yellowstone would rekindle memories of our first RV travel with a young family in 1992. It was that summer of travel throughout the US that hooked us on RVing. 

Our arrival in Gardiner and the trip up a windy hillside road to Eagle Creek campground, wasn't successful for camping, but superb for scenery and RV brake check. Our first elk sighting was a young cow busily munching a home owner's lawn. She saw no reason to lift her head for a picture. These elk behave similarly to the moose in our Alaska neighborhood. Their focus is on food. 

I'm in the habit of watching for any possible spot for overnight parking along our route. So, after finding Eagle Creek Campground full, we retraced our steps to a large paved pull-off outside town. It was here, overlooking the Yellowstone River, that we spent the night. The late afternoon sun reflected off the rapids and from the couch I watched as rafts of excited boaters bobbed by. Those safely aboard squealed with delight. However, one poor soul clung to the rear of his boat, his helmeted head barely bobbing above the waves, while crew members tried to drag him in. Bucky and I discussed that despite loving boats and floating rivers, we'd never really wanted this type of adventure. I attributed it to HATING cold water! 

I took the photo at the top of this post as the sun rose the following morning. A family of geese had just made their way through the swift current and were headed up the riverbank into a green grass field. What humans consider recreation, floating river rapids, these geese view as routine.

As is our custom, Bucky boiled water for coffee and the smell from the French press signaled the start of our day. 

In 2011, we visited Assateaque Island National Seashore. Bucky was in the process of paying admission when the ranger suggested spending a few more bucks and buying a lifetime senior pass available to anyone 62 and older. We bought our pass that day and now I pulled the well used card from Bucky's wallet. The masked ranger at the park entrance looked at it, smiled with her eyes, and map in hand we were off. 

We weren't far inside the park and ascending a narrow portion of road bordered by a small creek. I glanced down from my window at the creek below me. To my surprise, two young elk stood on the bank. Bucky was able to slow to a stop ( we're slow on the uphills) just as one lowered her head to drink. Both stood for a time looking up at the vehicle, then slowly continued on their way.

The Travertine terraces of Yellowstone are for me more amazing than some of the geysers and hot springs. The interaction of limestone and hot water creates travertine. These multicolored rock faces are always changing. Mix these with fumaroles (steam vents) where water turns to steam before hitting the surface and it's a spectacular combination to behold.

Hot springs are the most common hydrothermal feature in the park. Each varies in appearance from mud like puddles to deep steaming pools of phenomenal color. We particularly liked West Thumb basin where the steaming hot springs flowed into the cool water of Yellowstone Lake. 

                                                                               flow into Yellowstone Lake

When not looking at land forms that defy description, we looked at animals. The animals of Yellowstone have no reason to fear humans. They have been born, raised and will live out their lives  within the park. It's an opportunity to view animals that are both wild and living life as their ancient ancestors did. It's an odd concept, but after some thought it made some sense.

                                                                                                           bull elk

                                                                                       note the antlers in velvet

And then there were buffalo! They ARE wild. I have always found them to be amazing! The image of enormous herds roaming the open range is hard to fathom. Such a powerful beast!

Our trip through Yellowstone was everything we had hoped for. We recounted our visit in '92 with a lot of, "I remember this" and "wasn't that where....?" 

We recalled the morning Bucky and I got up early and raced for a first come first serve campsite. The kids resisted our attempts to wake them so Bucky drove the RV up the road while they slept. We watched as steam rose from the geysers and hot springs, creating an eerie mist in the early morning light. As we drove through the campground, most sites held folding chairs or cardboard signs indicating they were taken. We were ecstatic when a hilltop site appeared unoccupied. I quickly did what was needed to make this little slice of heaven ours for the remaining day and night. The kids explored while Bucky and I set up the RV. Soon all four came racing back saying in combined voices that they had found a hot spring. Sure enough, there in the low brush ran a hot stream of water. 

The next morning, Bucky prepared a special breakfast of pancakes. While they cooked, I noticed him bending a piece of wire. I think it was a coat hanger. He took the wire hanger and an egg and with kids in tow he headed for the hot spring. Using the circled end of the hanger to cradle the egg, he held it suspended in the steaming water. He then brought it back to the RV. We gathered round as he cracked it and dropped it onto the pancakes. It was in a soft boiled state and we all gasped in utter amazement. 

This trip to Yellowstone was just a few days shy of Bucky's 74 birthday. It wasn't quite like showing the wonders of this park to 4 inquisitive children, but the memories and the new sights made for a marvelous time.

                                                                                                   framed

Alaska 2020 ........Plan B

July 5-7

                  "Through all these times and all these towns, it's in my blood and it's all around

                     Life is a highway....I want to ride it all night long. 

                     If you're going my way, well, I want to drive it ..........all night long"

We were handed official looking papers by Canadian border agent McDonald and instructed to turn our RV around. We then handed these papers to agent Hastings who smiled cheerfully from the US customs booth. He asked us our reason for returning to the US and we gave him the short version of the past 2 hours. Although never voiced, his expression matched the disappointment we were feeling. We returned to the Sweetwater rest area where just hours before, we had nervously gathered our paperwork. Now, we sat with maps open and formulated plan B. 

A phone call to our friends, Tim and Judy, confirmed they were home and would love Vermont visitors. Forty years ago, this young couple left their families behind in Middlebury and Salisbury Vermont to start a new life in Chinook, Montana. Here, Tim found unlimited hunting opportunities and Judy discovered a close knit community in which to work and raise a family. Their ties to Vermont remain strong, as evidenced by Tim wearing his Johnson hunting coat during cold MT winters and regular visits from family,

Chinook was about 3 hours southeast of where we now were sitting in Sweetgrass. Our visit would include picking Tim's brain around plan B. 

Our RV at Tim'and Judy's Stonebroke Kennels

Stonebroke Springer Spaniels

Tim

Judy fed us barbeque chicken and we fell asleep to the sound of freight train whistles and awoke to a new day of possibilities. 

Tim suggested a ride into the Bearpaw Mountains which we eagerly accepted. It turned out to be just what was needed to clear our heads. By day's end, we knew what we would do.

The landscape varied from rolling hills down to farmland and abruptly back up to jagged rocky outcroppings. Cool shaded creek bottoms provided hiding places for deer and elk and despite it being midday, we were able to see some deer feeding.

                                                                                                 Whitetail deer

I was surprised to see this Bald Eagle perched on a pole overlooking a small pond. He looked agitated, but allowed me to get a few pictures before leaving. They are impressive birds and despite having many opportunities to photograph them in Alaska, I would never pass up the chance to photograph one. 

We drove by several large farms with cattle grazing. Close to new barns stood the relics of bygone days. This must have been a wonderful place to homestead providing fertile valleys for farming and mountains for hunting.

Mule Deer bunny hopping away

                    These beautiful soft faces begged to be photographed. I also think they were looking for a handout.

Tim was aware of my sliding from side to side across the back seat with the windows open and camera ready. Like me, he's an avid photographer and was happy to stop and allow me to shoot. He and Bucky talked about hunting and I could tell that Bucky's interest in the Bearpaws had increased.  

 It's impossible to write about the West without at least one horse picture.....just missing the cowboy!

After our tour of the mountains and another great meal in Chinook, Plan B was made. 

We will leave our RV parked behind Stonebroke Kennel and hope the dogs will keep an eye on things! Tim and Judy will drive us to Great Falls and the friendly skies will carry us to Alaska.

Keeping the world small and friendships dear helps to bridge rough water.

Alaska 2020....................recalculating

Alaska 2020 ND, MT and the Canadian Border

In sweltering heat, rockets lit the sky over Devil's Lake.....blackbirds one day and fireworks the next !

July 4

I delighted in the feel of warm water cascading down my back. A slight sulfur smell permeated the air, but didn't detract from the experience. Finding a family owned campground not far from Havre, MT allowed us the opulence of water, sewer and power. 

The campground host scurried about preparing tables for a pot luck gathering. I watched this from my folding chair, my feet propped up on a picnic table and my head pressed against the chair back. A multitude of doves cooed while storm clouds gathered overhead. A slight rumble of thunder punctuated the doves' serenade. 

Our host saw me sitting and approached. In an effort to appear friendlier than I felt, I commented, "It looks like rain."  

Without hesitation, he replied, "I hope so!" 

Which left me thinking, there never seems to be enough rain in a westerner's bucket!

My brother lives in Denver and rarely is there a phone conversation between us that doesn't include, "We need rain." 

He and his family are lucky to escape the CO heat at their summer house on Lake Champlain. I spoke to him there just a few days ago. Vermont just recorded the driest June in history and my brother told me the lake level was unusually low. This was followed by, "We need rain!" 

He couldn't see me smile! 

I folded my chair and headed for the camper door as a canopy was being moved by our host to cover the potluck tables. Red, white and blue tablecloths fluttered in the breeze.

Montana skies can change from azure blue to coal black and back again in minutes, often with a rainbow thrown in. The breadth of the western sky appears infinite and like a child, it can be fickle. 

       We watched this pilot fly on the deck before abruptly pulling up and looping around to make another pass on this field.

"So if you care to find me/ Look to the western sky/ As someone told me lately/ Everyone deserves the chance to fly!/ And if I'm flying solo/ At least I'm flying free/ Tell those who'd ground me/ Take a message back from me/ Tell them how I am defying gravity!/ I'm flying high defying gravity/ And soon I'll match them in renown./ And nobody in all of Oz/ No Wizard that there is or was/ Is ever gonna bring me down!"       

Steven Schwartz

Traffic was light in Ray, MT

July 5

Route 2 took us to Shelby Montana and Interstate 15 led to Sweetgrass where we would cross into Alberta. The US/ Canadian border has been closed to all but essential travel for several months. To reach Alaska by land, one must drive through Canada. I tried to stay informed on border updates and changes. On June 16, I made a phone call to BIS (Canadian Border Information Services) and was provided final confirmation that we would be OK to transit through Canada and on to Alaska.

Bucky and I were both somewhat nervous as we approached the gate and were motioned ahead by the  Canadian border agent. On my lap I held a folder with proof of our Alaskan home ownership and taxes paid on the property. The agent was friendly and polite and we answered his questions honestly. We were pleased when he proceeded with regulations we would need to follow while in Canada. He spoke of stopping only for fuel, sleeping in our RV, not entering stores and not staying in provincial parks. It appeared we had been nervous for no reason. He then instructed us to drive forward, pull into a marked space and enter the building to register our firearms. This is routine and Bucky handles it each time we enter Canada. I sat waiting with my seatbelt still fastened as I knew it wouldn't take long. An agent walked from the building with a black Labrador and I was surprised when he instructed the dog to sniff around the RV. Bucky was taking longer than usual. 

When he finally returned to the RV, his face was anything but happy. He said I would need to come in. I donned my mask and entered the building. Several border agents were gathered behind the counter seemingly bored by the lack of people to process. They chatted and laughed lightheartedly.

Agent McDonald didn't join in their merriment. He asked me about my conversation with BIS. I easily conveyed to him the information I had been given by a BIS supervisor. I had been told that as of June 8, immediate family members could rejoin and since our daughter was living in our Alaskan home, we would be allowed to transit there through Canada. Agent McDonald took notes as I spoke and after more questions and more note taking, we were asked to have a seat. We sat alone in a large room devoid of noise other than occasional laughter from the still unoccupied agents. 

Suddenly, Agent McDonald's voice broke the silence calling us to his window. He credited us for "due diligence" in calling BIS, but unfortunately we had received false information. We are not Alaskan residents and since other means are available by which to reach Alaska, you will NOT be allowed to transit through Canada.

"Thank you both for your patience."

 

Alaska 2020 WI to ND

June 3

We slipped around Minneapolis/St Paul on the 694 loop, never seeing the city, but catching a brief look at the Mississippi River. I first saw this river after college graduation when my friend Judy and I took a cross country trip. We had outfitted an old Econoline van with sleeping bunks and a cooking space. Judy's mother covered the foam bunks with lime green fabric which set the mood for our adventure. Judy's dad checked the mechanical parts of the van and said we were good to go. 

I had read stories about the mighty Miss--iss--i--pp--i describing her broad width and strong current; a river large enough to carry barges and tiered river boats. Imagine my surprise when our vehicle broke down in Redwing, MN, just the first of many breakdowns along the way, and I saw the Mississippi for the first time. Visions of Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer occupied my mind as Judy and I set up camp on the river bank. It didn't feel far removed from Huck's carefree life. Judy and I traveled with no itinerary other than to keep heading west. The time needed to repair the van often dictated the length of our stay in any one place. It was 1970, and a culture of hippie love and friendship guided the behavior of young people across the US. Without fear we joined other wanderers camped for the summer on the river bank. After a few weeks, the van was repaired, or so we thought, and we moved on, but the memory of riverbank campfires and the caring ways of strangers lingers in my memory.

The Mississippi River travels 2,300 miles before spilling into the Gulf of Mexico. Its watershed touches 31 states and two Canadian provinces. Its value cannot be overstated.

By midday Bucky and I crossed from Minnesota into North Dakota. In Fargo, we picked up I 29, and traveled north until we connected with US 2 in Grand Forks. US 2 is known as the hi line as it stretches from coast to coast at the top of the continental US. Route 2 would take us to Shelby, Montana.

This day ended at Walmart in Devil’s Lake, ND. 

Devil's Lake is a natural lake and a very popular fishing destination.

By now you can see that to reach Alaska without taking the better part of two weeks, we are drive, eat, sleep and repeat. Staying at a Walmart for the night isn't as easy as it once was. Some Walmarts are governed by city ordinances that don't allow overnight stays. This has made it necessary for me to call ahead once we have a city in mind. This task usually happens mid-afternoon. I grab my Walmart Atlas, turn to the state and find store locations along our route. There are indicators as to if the store is an "ordinary" Walmart or a super store as well as hours of operation and contact numbers. With this information, I make a phone call to see if an overnight stay is allowed. If the answer is no, we consider our next move. I make notations about each store and the date stayed.  You'll notice Devil's Lake says small and trains. Tonight I think the train noise will be overshadowed by the firecrackers.

The Devil's Lake Walmart has a feature I didn't notate. You'll remember from my previous post my description of wet swampy areas surrounding many box store developments. It so happened that this Walmart was a perfect example of this.

This photo doesn't show how nasty the water was with trash. We had barely parked when I saw bird activity. The voice of the Red Winged Blackbird is unmistakable. Within moments a juvenile perched in the tree just outside our dinette window. I was able to slide open both the window and the screen before it took off. It sat with its mouth opening and closing hoping for a parent to bring food. 

The marvels of the Walmart parking lot.

My chauffeur, feet up!

Alaska 2020

I can speak of Covid-19 and the changes in our lives, but I'm sure everyone has heard all they care to hear about this virus. A traditional summer would see Bucky and me renting our Ripton, VT house to faculty members of Bread Loaf School, Middlebury College's mountain campus. However, due to "the virus", all summer learning will remain remote, meaning no housing is needed. We were surprised to hear from our past renters that despite Bread Loaf being closed, they would still like to rent for July and August. It didn't take Bucky and me long to decide we would maintain our pre Covid model, living in our RV for the summer......but where? For the past 12 summers we have travelled to our small cabin in Talkeetna, Alaska. The cabin is built from timbers harvested from the land on which it sits. For Bucky it was a labor of love. He worked nonstop through the summer of 2012 to finish the cabin before our return to VT. Not only did he produce a quality product, he lost 20 pounds in the process!

June 30

Thunder showers dampened the T-shirt on Bucky's back as he finished mowing the yard. With glee, I crumpled and threw my final to do list into recycling. The yellow lined sticky note bounced off the rim of the recycling container in defiance, but with a final angry bounce, tumbled in. An optimistic departure time of noon, had the clock now showing 3:30.

                                                               

The lawn and flowers soaked up the rain as fast as it fell. June 2020 holds the record as the driest in history.

The torn black rubber of the driver's side wiper blade flapped erratically as rain pelted the RV windshield. Still, the vehicle navigated Vermont's backcountry roads as if knowing our destination. 

Leaving Vermont and crossing into New York state, bright sun shown into my eyes and I pulled down the visor. So many times, when standing over the kitchen sink, I have looked west, past the rain drops on our window, to see the sun shining on the Adirondack Mountains in New York. It happens often enough that we've coined the household phrase, "it's always sunny in NY". Weather moves in from the west. This happens quickly with thunderstorms, but slowly with fair weather.

Exiting I 87 in Saratoga Springs, we travelled NY 29 through rolling countryside until descending into historic Amsterdam where the roadside is defined by grand mansions. 

Our Hannaford "rotisserie chicken", microwaved potatoes and steamed broccoli, all eaten while gazing over the lawn and garden section of Amsterdam's Walmart, was as beautiful an end of day sight as the finest lake sunset. 

 

Sand bars stretched from the shore out into the channel of the Erie Canal. The Canal dashed in and out of view along I 90 as we headed to Buffalo, NY. The Canal was completed in 1825 connecting the vibrant eastern seaport of New York City, by way of the Hudson River, with Lake Erie. Its completion facilitated the movement of goods and people to the Midwest.......westward expansion. The Canal is 360 miles long and utilizes locks to overcome the 571 foot difference between the level of the Hudson River and that of Lake Erie. Today, we saw no boats traveling. I've read of companies that rent sleep aboard canal boats and think a few days spent recreating history and traveling in this manner to NYC would be fun.

July 1

We passed through the Leatherstocking Country of Central New York, navigating from the Mohawk Valley into the land of the Iroquois. 

Seneca, NY, home to the Seneca tribe of the Iroquois, provides a climate for growing grapes in a region of lakes and rolling green hills and valleys. 

I worked for many years with an adorable girl who struggled academically. This resulted in her disliking school and most of the adults within the building. It was approaching the end of the school year and I had noticed a marked improvement in her attitude. When I asked her why she seemed so cheerful, she shared that her family would soon be heading to a family home on Seneca Lake. When I asked what made this place special, she told me about the "glen". This child, who rarely placed a word on paper, described in fabulous detail what she loved about this spot. Her eyes lit up when she spoke of adventuring there with her siblings. I too spent summers with my family and grandparents at our "camp" on Lake Champlain. It was magical for me and I easily identified with the feeling of escape she expressed.   

This child usually arrived at school in a disheveled state. Her petite, skinny stature was topped by long messy hair. And, with the arrival of warm summer weather, she wore a T-shirt, shorts and broken sandals. It was easy to envision this barefoot sprite, hair flying in the summer breeze, running through the "magical" glen. She spoke of playing there in a shallow stream and told me of tall ferns lining the stream banks and colorful rocks found beneath clear, cold water. To this day I remember her words and the images they created. When life is tough, we all need a cool glen in which to seek refuge.

Our second night was spent twisted in sweaty sheets at a Walmart in Holland, Ohio. Midwest heat can't be ignored. There seemed not a breath of air. 

July 2 ....... from glens to dells 

The farm land of Ohio and Indiana extended mile upon mile. Well kept barns, neck high corn, grazing deer and an occasional hill paved our way through Illinois and into Wisconsin. Construction resulted in backups of traffic and accidents resulted when brakes were applied too late. I looked forward to being surrounded by the rolling green hills of the Wisconsin Dells. 

Delta, Ohio

A farmer blends into his field, Wauseon, Ohio

Orland, Indiana

Farmer in the dell....hi, ho the dairy oh!

Cocktails sipped while sitting on a shady patch of grass at Walmart, Eau Clair, Wisconsin, brought our 560 mile day to a comfortable end. My glasses slid down my nose with regularity and I had to keep reminding myself of VT snow falling in May. The 90 degree Midwest heat required the generator and air conditioning for another night. 

July 3

Bucky's french pressed coffee sipped on the couch, ushered in a welcomed overcast day. We headed west on I 94 toward Saint Paul, Minnesota. When leaving Eau Clair, the Chippewa River ran full bank, in sharp contrast to the Erie Canal just a few days past. People watching, through the RV windows, showed a populous gearing up for picnics, boating and outdoor activities characteristic of the July 4th weekend. Discernibly absent, was the wearing of face masks. Walmarts nationwide are closing at 8:30 pm. It seemed like every family in Eau Clair needed to shop for the weekend as cars streamed in one after another until closing time.

The song birds hopping branch to branch in the flowering bushes behind the chain link fence dividing Walmart from the neighboring houses seemed accepting or oblivious to the frantic action just yards away. It's an interesting phenomena how nature adjusts with animals living in habitat surrounded by development. A few of my best bird photographs have occured in Walmart parking lots! I captured an American Avocet from the open RV door while it waded amongst McDonald wrappers, plastic bags and cast aside soda bottles in Gallop, New Mexico. The wet swampy areas, a result of removing earth during development, are  attractive to a variety of water oriented birds. We often see cottontail rabbits in the Yew bushes used in mall landscaping and on one occasion a coyote.

Covid-19 cases have continued to rise in cities throughout the US as restrictions are loosened. We follow the same routine we used when traveling to Texas at the start of the virus in March. Bucky fuels up the RV at the pump wearing gloves and mask. He re-enters the vehicle disinfecting everything used, including the credit card. 

                                                                             Don't see many wearing masks!

Our meals are prepared onboard. Years ago, we placed a chest freezer inside the RV shower. We rarely used the shower as it draws considerable water and when at a campground, we use the campground showers. It's handy having frozen venison and veggies just footsteps away to eat on the road and then take on to Alaska. On the return trip, we bring frozen Sockeye back to Vermont. 

You'll remember the torn wiper blade from 1200 miles back. Bucky modified it with scissors. 

And, our "original seasoned" rotisserie chicken has provided some excellent sandwiches! 

Fargo, North Dakota is a mere 100 miles ahead!! Leaving the land of the Golden Gophers behind for the Fighting Sioux!