Signal Hill Musings, Oct. 2017 ed., by Tom Shafer and Richard Seifried
Once again, these are continuing exploits of two L&Cers (Lewis and Clarkers) from their barely-historic 2009 trip from St. Louis to one of our friendliest oceans, the Pacific. Journaling from the road for family (and posterity – perhaps even prosperity), Richard and son-in-law Tom have now made their way to southern Montana. Spoiler alert: someone in the car celebrates his (or her?) 81st birthday.
Sent: Tuesday, June 23, 2009 1:40 AM
Subject: Battlefield Day
Hey all! We are bedding down in Missoula, Montana, after a great day at Big Hole National Battlefield. The day started frosty cold — 24 degrees — after a night of sleet and snow showers. We started the day driving by Beaverhead Rock, a low, small mountain that Lewis claimed looked like a beaver. Today, a debate rages about from what vantage point it most resembles our wood-chucking friend. Even our car could not reach consensus. Richard believes that the westward view seems most beaver-like; I suppose he is entitled to his wrong opinion.
Beaverhead Rock, making its way (east!) across the high (and cold!) plains of Montana.
From there we went on to the battlefield. The Battle of Big Hole commemorates the slaughter of almost ninety Nez Perce men, women, children, and elders – and the deaths of thirty-one U.S. soldiers. The Nez Perce were trying to make their way to Canada after rejecting a government offer to relocate to a small piece of land in Idaho (after another broken land treaty by the federal government). Though ambushed, the Nez Perce rebuffed the pre-dawn attack, and though grieving their lost friends and family, continued their journey, ultimately surrendering to the U.S. army a mere forty miles from the Canadian border. Out of the original 800 Nez Perce, only 150 were able to find the safety of Canada. At the battle site, I took two bone-chilling hikes totaling seven miles while Richard explored/hiked along the Big Hole River (these hikes were much too steep for Richard’s 80 year, 364 day old bones). A half an hour into my first hike, it started to drizzle. Below, I could see Richard moving back to the car to shelter from the rain. I put on a poncho from my small pack and continued to hike to an area that afforded a stunning view of the valley and battlefield. I snapped a couple of pictures, then the rain turned to sleet, then snow. Quickly, I completed my hike and joined Richard at the car for some chips and Hi C drinks. The weather
A view of the Big Hole River from a known artillery position during the battle. Snow squall moving in from the left, Richard swimming in the river below.
started to look more threatening as we ate, so I decided to wait it out before finishing my hike to the sacred lodging site of the Nez Perce. Unfortunately, it began to look worse, so I donned my poncho once again and slogged on to the battle site. The temperature must have dropped five degrees as I walked, and the rain/sleet turned to all snow. By the time I reached the village site, however, the sun broke through and provided me a few minutes to take it all in and snap a couple of photos. The National Park Service, in conjunction with survivors from both sides of the battle, has erected tepee poles in the same positions as they were in 1877. The poles create an aura that is eerie and profoundly sad. Just as I was leaving the village, a pair of coyotes — I had seen them earlier — waded the Big Hole River, eyed me suspiciously, wandered through the tepee poles, and scampered across an open field. What a way to end my day at the battlefield.
Teepee poles erected along the Big Hole River. Sacred to the Nez Perce, numerous prayer flags are tied to poles (not photographed out of respect).
We made it into Missoula with just enough time to clean and air our dirty laundry – and finish a pizza. Oh, and if you were wondering, Brother Richard is getting his beauty rest — and he surely does need it because tomorrow he will be way older. Well, George Washington is calling me — a biography I am reading, and he is about to win Yorktown (at least I’m hoping so) — so I must heed his call. Hope all is well with you — all is well here at the Thunderbird Motel in lovely Missoula, Montana.
Sent: Wednesday, June 24, 2009 9:29 PM
Subject: The L&Cers can smell the Pacific!
Okay, so we can’t smell the Pacific. Most likely it’s just coming from the car. Anyway, we are in Cascade Locks, Oregon, about 175 miles from the Pacific. Dick is sitting at the window watching a couple of osprey hunt some fish — or buffalo or Dinty Moore, whatever it is that they hunt. Yes, we have a Columbia River side room with a gorgeous view of the gorge. We have had two more great days upon which I will report. First, someone in the car had a birthday yesterday; carbon dating suggests that he is slightly younger than dirt – or 81 (carbon dating can be so unreliable). Anyway, in what became a daylong celebration, we started by rejoicing his waking, then his breakfast, mid-morning coffee – well, you get the idea.
Once on the road, we took a roller-coaster-like trip over the Continental Divide from Montana to Idaho. On the way, we stopped at a pretty hike called Colgate Licks (which is similar to Trail of the Cedars in Glacier NP for the initiated). Giant cedar trees, many of them over 800 years old, soar over the rest of the forest-floor canopy, creating a cozy environ for ferns and moss and many other shade-loving flora. Both of us enjoyed strolling the trail, taking pictures of delicate flowers, cute snails, and amorous slugs (they can be so clingy).
Giant cedars against a deep blue sky at Colgate Licks
After that we stopped at Heart of the Monster, known as Nez Perce National Historic Park. Nez Perce legend has it that a monster was creating great havoc for the ancient Nez Perce. Coyote slew the monster and flung his heart high into the heavens and it landed on this lovely spot in Idaho. (Really, it looks like they were building the highway, had a bunch of extra dirt, and had to put it somewhere so they just put alongside the road — I mean, there’s not even any blood — I think those Nez Perce are just crazy!)
Heart of the Monster — or a lovingly protected big pile of dirt
After that, Richard took a stroll down amnesia lane in Hamilton, Idaho. He wanted to have his birthday lunch at a restaurant he used to frequent when he worked out here for the forest service. We thought we had found it (the Coffee Cup Cafe), but it turned out that the place was built years after he worked here. We never did find the real restaurant – but the Coffee Cup does make a mean birthday Reuben!
We stopped at Nez Perce County Museum at the end of the day before bedding down in Lewiston, Idaho. The museum offers a history of the Nez Perce (including their connection to Lewis and Clark), but also provides information about contemporary Nez Perce lifestyle and culture on the reservation.
Today, we had another lovely drive through the Snake and Clearwater River valleys before stopping at Sacajawea State Park, where the Snake runs into the Columbia. The smallish museum had many wonderful historical pieces
Where the Snake and Columbia rivers converge.
Is that Nessie — or just a cormorant?
and tells the Sacajawea story very even-handedly. Of course, the history books teach us that she was hired as a guide for the Corps of Discovery, but she served a more valuable role as interpreter. In fact, her guidance was useful only when the Corps reached the land of her youth in what is now Idaho. Though traveling with a newborn, she was helpful with identification of edible plants and roots, but it was her mere presence (along with little Jean Baptiste) that presented the Corps as a peaceable entity throughout their travels.
After a perfectly Mexican lunch, we started the truly stunning drive through the Columbia River Gorge. We stopped at one point (near John Day Dam) so that I could swim in the Columbia while Richard held me with a tow rope. Okay, so I dangled my foot in the water (no tow rope necessary) and picked up a few Columbia River specimens to take back to President Jefferson — okay, so they were rocks and I am taking them home to Jane. Anyway, after that we stopped at a beautiful state park called Horsethief Lake (now called Columbia Hills Historical State Park). Here we looked at some wonderful Native American petroglyphs and took pictures of the gorge and Mt. Hood, which has been stalking us (from
Smokey Mt. Hood (from western fires) and the Columbia River Gorge
the front) all day. Lewis and Clark spent two nights near this site (now flooded over due to a series of dams on the river) with the Chinookan tribe. These natives were far different from those on the Plains. Nomadic (using canoes), they followed the salmon and spoke a language punctuated by clucking (insert your own joke here – I’m too chicken to do it). They were also materialistic and hard-bargaining – so unlike the simple, generous nature of Plains natives.
A sampling of petroglyphs at Horsethief State Park
Now, I am looking at the back of Richard’s head while he gazes out into the gorge area — and I might add that he is being so patient because he is hungry while I am finishing this e-mail. Well, that’s it from here in lovely Cascade Locks. Tomorrow’s e-mail will be coming from the Pacific Ocean, one of the biggest and oldest oceans on this planet. Well, it won’t actually be coming from the ocean because my laptop cord just isn’t long enough. Of course, I could just let it run on battery power and take the chance that some rogue wave won’t strike me and pull me (and the laptop) out to sea. I guess I could just e-mail you from our ocean-side room. Yeah, I’ll do that instead.
An osprey hunting dinner for Richard and me at Cascade Locks
Approaching darkness on the Columbia River (as seen from our room)
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