Hitch 5 pt 1: Subduction leads to Orogeny: unedited

It’s the middle of August, and the mornings are already turning crisp, hitting the mid thirties before the sun warms it back up to summer. Seasons are short around here, and time flies away. It’s hard to believe that last year exactly, I was in the middle of my first multi-day backpacking trip in Glacier, hiking 85 miles in five days over five mountain passes from Two Medicine to Saint Mary. It worked out perfect that my last hitch up in Glacier brought me back to Two Medicine, and this trip reminded me why it is my favorite part in the park, and best of all I was hiking with Mike Roesch, the person responsible for giving me the opportunity to work in Glacier in the first place. So here are some photos from last year that still make the cut (but don't fit with the rest of the hikes).

Day 1: Two Medicine

Once again the crew didn’t get out of the office on time, which doesn’t make a two hour drive around the park any easier. Roesch, Evan, Haakon and I caravanned our way up through Two Medicine and into the Cutbank drainage, where Roesch and I dropped them off to trek up quite possibly the most difficult pass, yet my favorite part in the park.

Because of all the driving Roesch and I didn’t get to our trail head until 1 o’clock, not the ideal time to start an eight mile day. Luckily Roesch knew the boat driver that takes tourists across Two Medicine Lake to hike into the falls. He was able to sneak us onto the boat, free of charge, which made our day much more reasonable. We also split the day up, so I ended up hiking solo in bear country for the first time. One wouldn’t think that having one other person would make much of a difference but being on your own definitely makes you more aware of your senses and surroundings. No worries, I only had to fight off four male grizzlies…Well actually, all the tourists did the trick for me. Of all the crowded places in Glacier, Two Medicine is the easiest to deal with, but I ended up passing my fair share of unhappy campers, as I tailgated them. Sorry folks, but you can take your dinner bells, I mean bear bells else where.

The visit was brief back in Two Med, but it was worthwhile, and it sure felt good to swim in that lake.  

Day 2: Snake Creek

Since we kicked Two Med’s ass the day before, turning an over night trip into only a two hour hike, Roesch and I were able to have another easy day outside the park in the Great Bear Wilderness. It’s not very often that I get done with work at 12:30…did I call this work? Anyways, I was able to get to work i.e. Kaimin thanks to the easy loop. So I talked grizzly bears and my feature with Jayme, our lovely editor and chief, to get some feedback on my slacking. And apparently I’m not doing too shabby.

Tomorrow, back in the park.

Day 3: Harrison Ford…I mean Lake

Subduction leads to origeny. This is what I learned today, hiking up the Harrison Lake drainage. Apparently, the sevier origeny created the mountains of Glacier. Well, it resembles it in style. The Lewis Overthust is a low angle thrust fault, which I guess makes it a sevier origeny…This is what I get when I ask what Evan’s shirt means that reads, “There’s nothing funny about Geology.” But the funny thing is, there’s a schist load of funny things about geology. Oh god, I crack myself up. Schist, as in the mineral, duh. If there’s a major with the most sexual, outlandish puns, it’s geology. 

Anyways, Evan, Haakon and I sneaked out of the office and were able to take the three of us to Harrison Lake, instead of leaving one in the office for grunt work. Which brings us to Harrison Ford, which is what I told Evan where we’ll be parking, only because we had to ford the Middle Fork in order to get to the Harrison trailhead. I should’ve said Endor Moon, Temple of Doom or the ice planet Hoth just so the Park Service would say, “What the fuck is bear crew on?”

We parked by the railroad and walked down to the river to find that every spot that we looked was either really high or really fast. This is probably the first week that the river could be crossed on foot. Usually we use inflatable kayaks to get across, but we scoured the banks to find a crossing, but nothing looked ideal, until Haakon just walked into the river, which meant Evan and I had to follow. Let’s just say the ford on the way back, when the temperature finally reached 80, was a lot more enjoyable. Although we did enter the flats like a couple of badasses, shirtless and fit in front of a harem of ladies in a raft and just walked on it like it ain’t no thing. You see, “the river is swift, but it was you that took me off my feet.” Good quote Evan.

I really need to get off this computer, so I can drink more Dragons Breath. Long live happy hour at the Stone Fly. I only have six days left here. Sad times.

Hitch 4: Stay away School, Missoula woes, Nyack Loop

Hitch 4

Writers’ block, readers’ block, workers’ block have set in my mind. It’s been a month and a half since I’ve updated this blog, and it’s not for lack of excitement. It’s probably the park taking hold of my soul, telling me “Oh, you know you don’t want to go back to Missoula. Stay here…with me.” It’s like a siren, whispering a silent song through the subalpine furs and glacial falls.

I just went back to Missoula for the first time in a month. Every time I drive into the valley a pit forms in my stomach. I don’t know what it is. It’s my home. I love Missoula more than anyone who has ever set eyes on it, but every year, every trip away, she feels a little bit more distant. But this return felt better, or at least better than expected.

We had our first editor meeting for the Kaimin, and my god do I feel unprepared. I’ve been hiking and collecting data for a project that pretty much has nothing to do with my career path this summer. But it feels right like I made the right decision to skip out on journalism for the summer, and I hope it turns out to be that right decision, because I sure needed the break. I just hope myself and my reporters can come through, because I don’t want to be the one who flops the first week of the paper. I may be psyching myself out. At least my job is to talk wilderness, outdoors, music and culture…I think I can do that. Well now I’m done with my sappy diary entry.

Here’s what I did last hitch.

Day 1: Autumn Creek

Today, I got to lead my first trip on the trail. Granted, it was only a 12-mile flat trail, but it was in the park, so that made it semi-legit. Of course, the interns are splitting the leads for this hitch, because the bio-techs are off for four days, so I guess I’m not as cool as I thought.

Ben Tracy, the intern in the Great Bear, and I walked in the southern most area in the park on a trail called Autumn Creek. It was nothing spectacular. We only saw an ungraceful grouse and a deer, but the trail proved that it doesn’t matter where you hike in Glacier—it still proves its beauty. The vegetation has almost a primitive feel. A lot of big leaves and tall stems that lean into the trail, blocking the view of your feet. I like to joke that it seems like we’re in Jurassic Park, and dinosaurs should be roaming the lands. Too bad that the rocks that make up the mountains were most likely under the sea when dinosaurs lived in Montana. I even asked Evan, the geologist, sitting in front of my in the bar, if I was correct. Apparently, Glacier’s mountains were uplifted 100 million years ago in a geologic event known as the Lewis Over thrust. Who knows maybe the plans are from that era…

This just in, geology lesson: mountains rely more on erosion (glaciers, water and wind) more than thrusting of geologic plates. There’s also an algae in the rocks here that is responsible for giving us our present oxygen level. Evan’s blowing my mind. Who knew rocks were so damn cool.

Day 2: Moose Creek

Whoa here I am, keeping everything up to date for two days in a row. Thursday brought Cayley and I back to the lovely Whitefish Range: Glacier Crew’s favorite mountain range (not). Well, I’d have to say my favorite is the Livingston Range, but that’s just me.

The beginning of the 4^th hitch is being used to pick up all of the training trails we did during the training week, and the interns are the leaders, as the techs take an extra four days of rest. As most Whitefish Range trails are, Moose Creek was fairly bland. But Cayley and I made it as fun as we could. We had mountain bikes, which came in handy, because the supposed four-mile trail was turned into 12, when we came across the Forest Service doing road construction. We rode around in the summer sun, picking wild strawberries and hucks…man life is tough right now.

Day 3: Stillwater

There’s this thing about the office that sucks everyone in, as it continues to evolve its plans, confusing us all. I was supposed to have a nice easy hike through the power pines, the electricity, growth-less trees that provide our race with energy, with Cayley and a volunteer. But plans changed this morning, and I found out Evan and I will be shuttling Amy and the volunteer to the Whitefish Divide Trail, as we survey the entire Stillwater State Forest.

We had 7 regions to cover and only reached 6, but we did manage to have a two person decathlon (with only 4 events or so). We ran a three mile trail for three trees, bushwhacked to a trail to bushwhack through Alders and Spruce (bushwhacking to the trail was easier than taking the whole trail, and we only found two hairs), raced around the loop to get road rub trees and signs and swam to get a tree under a thunderstorm. And through it all we finished at the same time as Amy and missed the hail thunderstorm.

The Nyack Loop

Before I begin: a disclaimer.

The Nyack is the only designated primitive area in Glacier Park. The only reason it isn’t considered “wilderness” is due to the fact that trail crew uses gas powered saws and weed-whackers to clear the trail.

The last few weeks I’ve been doubting my decision to work in the park. Am I falling behind my peers? Should I be interning and thinking about my career? Or should I be working in the park, using this summer to recharge myself to remember the reasons why I like journalism?

I chose to go into the Nyack, despite the techs saying its too wild, difficult and plain mean to let an intern hike the loop. I wanted the wildness remind me why I’m here. I wanted to be away from people, away from the office and clear my mind. And on top of it all backpack with my friend and sixth grade hockey coach, Eric Penn, who personally got me on bear crew ten years after I played for him.

Day 4: Nyack Loop: Coal Creek Patrol Cabin

One day in the Nyack has been what I was hoping for, basically a chance to backpack for four days without having to be in the hectic office and be away from my phone and computer. For the first time in awhile I’ll be waking up early, getting a head start on a shlog of a day to the Upper Nyack Cabin.

Today began as usual, spending too much time in the office, waiting for maps, log sheets and logistics, and as the time drug on, Eric and I decided to go map-less, log sheet-less and logistic-less to just wing it. We went to Montana Raft to pick up an inflatable kayak to get across the Middle Fork of the Flathead and onto Nyack Flats. The trail started out dense. The brush was chest high full of nettles, thistles and other evil booby trapping plants, which was made enjoyable by some of the biggest huckleberries I’ve ever encountered.

We eventually popped out into the Anaconda Burn of 2005, following the Middle Fork until veering off across Coal Creek, where the first creek crossing of nearly 30 took me out. I was still able to keep my camera dry.

The burn in the region gave us some great views that in the past were blocked. The ten thousand foot goliath, Stimpson peaked out, as well as the spire St. Nick, the hardest climb in the park, so I’m told, and the Great Bear Wilderness’s Great Northern all were present. The Nyack may truly be the heart of the park, even the loop on a map is in the shape of one. There’s only a few ways into the area either by fording the Middle Fork or climbing steep mountain passes can one enter it, and you’re lucky to get passes, because only a small group may be allowed in at a time. It has burn areas, thick forests, dozens of river and creek crossings and passes. It’s a pretty magical spot, and I’ve only experienced 12 of the 52 miles thus far.

Tomorrow will be a shlog: 20 miles, 12 creek crossings, 42 trees to survey and Surprise Pass to climb. It’s hump day (day 5 of 9), so let’s see what the rest has to offer.

Day 5: Nyack Loop: Upper Nyack

20 miles, 15 creek crossings, over 200 down trees and a bushwhack on top of a bushwhack of a trail. That’s what a 13 hour day sounds like, but it doesn’t come close to explaining how my body feels. My feet were soaked all day. I re-sprained my ankle…I can’t even write anymore…too exhausted. But goddamn I still love the Nyack, so beautiful and wild.

Day 6: Nyack Loop: Lower Nyack

Day three of the Nyack loop left us with only eight miles, but along those eight miles were at least a dozen creek crossings down timber and 35 trees to survey. Oh yeah, add on the two of so miles up to the Cutbank Pass junction that we missed yesterday due to night catching up to us. Let’s just say it was another long day.

I think we’re estimating 170 samples from yesterday alone. Holy Fuck the last two days have just drug on, and I’m sure tomorrow’s six miles will be the longest six miles of hiking in my life. I asked Eric, as I sat amid brush taller than me if tomorrow will be thick. He just laughed. Good answer.

This place is Glacier to the extreme. Everything in this loop is on another level. The brush is twice as tall and thick, creek crossings are double in width and deep, and even the burn areas feel hotter and more open.

Yesterday’s trail took us through the 2005 Anaconda Fire, and the sun beat us down, as we crossed Coal Creek (could be river) six times. The whole time we walked between St. Nicolas and Doody peaks. Then we came across “Penner’s Corner,” what I coined the start of the climb to Surprise Pass after Eric, who has done the loop 18 times.

When we got to the junction to Beaver Woman Lake it was after 3 o’clock, and we were barely over halfway to Upper Nyack Cabin. Those last eight miles were a blur. I busted my ankle again, as we bushwhacked our way through the beginning of the Nyack. It was nearly dark by the time we crossed Pacific Creek and entered the Upper Nyack Cabin, and I somehow managed to make burritos by candlelight for us and crashed in my cot.

Waking up wasn’t too enjoyable.

7:30 rolled around, which meant we had to backtrack what we missed the night before, before starting down Nyack Creek. I’ve watched that creek grow from a trickle to the size of the Clark Fork on an average August, and the majority of its path is a gorgeous mix of rocks and canyons at the base of the monster Stimpson Peak.

I have nothing more to say than, please Glacier gods get me back to West Glacier in one piece.  

Day 7: Nyack Loop: Lower Nyack out

The slow shlog through the Nyack didn’t end the final day. One would think that six miles would be manageable after 40 miles the prior three days, but when you add 19 trees to survey and constant head high veg and mosquito onslaughts, the day will continue to drag on. The fourth day of the loop was also the least scenic, which could also be due to my throbbing ankle and body in general. I could barely pick my eyes up off the trail, as my hand whacked away the nettle, mosquitoes and biting flies.

Still, throughout the epic loop I grew to admire its intensity, both its beauty and wrath from the Glacier gods. The gods feel a special connection to the Nyack, I’m sure, and they keep an extra eye on those who pass through. Our trek went through places that even trail crew’s saws haven’t seen this summer, and it showed. When you are swimming through brush and feeling the trail with only your feet (Eric called it trail brail), you know you passed a daunting task.

We even ran out of envelopes half way through day three, so we improvised by using sheets from my notebook to wrap the hair in, using tree sap as glue. Eric and I sat in Fritas for three hours transferring samples from the notebook paper to envelopes, while drinking heavy ipas and eating burgers. It was the only way to complete the Nyack. Like the Guns n’ Roses song goes, that we HAD to listen to after, the Nyack was crazy and one in a million, and I knew my summer would not have been complete without doing that loop with Eric Penn, my hockey coach 10 years ago, when I was a peewee in sixth grade.

Day 8: Baptista Lookout

I thought I was going to get an office day, but turns out I had to set out on another hike after the Nyack.

The day began as a shit show, as usual. We didn’t get out of the office until 9, waiting for two volunteers to join us, but neither came through, so Cayley, Brad and I set off to complete the day ourselves.

After an hour and a half drive down the dirt road alongside the Great Bear Wilderness, we finally came across our trail heads. The maps were a mess, mostly because the Great Bear is a mess. We decide that Cayley and I would do the lookout trail, 8 miles up hill, while Brad bikes a few others. Turns out that we ended up on Brad’s trail, as Brad gets lost, and tries a second trail.

So throughout the miscommunications and mishaps (more Bear Crew Blunders) we’re most likely going back tomorrow to pick up what we fucked up. Goodie.

Day 9: Office work, data entry, ping-pong, yoga and getting very drunk at Fritas; enough said.  

Oh Fly Dandelion Seed: End of Hitch One

End of Hitch One, Canada Day, Polebridge, Independence Day

I woke up on the couch of the Fish House after another late night at Fritas from the sun glaring down through the window. We had to celebrate the end of hitch one. It was entertaining, but quite a struggle. Multiple times during the 9 days groups had to turn back from a trail due to high creeks, blocked roads and snow. Those three things seem to be major symbols of this blog, but it’s what’s on all of our minds. How will we be able to do three passes on every tree in the park and the Whitefish range, if we are already behind pace, and if there is no relief in sight?

Well, good news came in the form of a string of gorgeous hot, sunny days, and they led us right into our Off-hitch, which almost makes me dread going back into the field tomorrow, but just almost. I’m currently sitting in the laundry matt in Coram, reviewing the crazy-fun days we had over the holiday and preparing to head across the boarder Waterton National Park in Canada to hike back through Goat Haunt and the Belly River.

Canada Day: July 1^st

From the Fish House couch the entertainment began. I called my roommate, Evan, who crashed at the Amphibian House next door to see if he wanted a ride back into town, and it turned out that he was attempting to hitch hike back already and was half way there. So I picked him up, and we decided to get the rest of our crew to go thrift store and grocery shopping. On our way out of West Glacier we noticed the Alberta Visitor Center was crowded and sporting flags and hockey jerseys. It was Canada Day, and even I had no idea it fell on July 1^st. Looks like Canada trumps the U.S. in at least one category.

We stopped by and received free hot dogs and paper Canadian Flags. Our Canadian holiday is only beginning. Logically, thrift stores came first on our list. We went to a used sports store and found plastic roller blades. Lights went on in the five of our heads. How fun would it be to roller blade to Apgar to get huckleberry ice cream and look like idiots doing it? The thought was irresistible, but we waited to see what the rest of the thrift stores had. 

Turns out the next stop had skates, and we were all able to find skates that fit. They came in all color combinations: straight black, purple, pink and green. The only other objects I purchased were an electric teakettle for a dollar (totally going to be donated to the Kaimin Kitchen) and a knife for 50 cents.

We strapped on those skates and booked it down to the U.S.G.S. office, where we got some of the biggest laughs imaginable, and from there we traveled down the worst bumpy paved road to Apgar. I’ve never worked so hard to skate so slow in my life. I need some WD40 and lube for round two next off hitch. The folks in Apgar gave us some priceless looks. It was as if they looked at us in our eyes, they’d come down with the roller skating disease, said Bobby.

The huckleberry ice cream was delicious as well as the late afternoon sun that fell on Lake McDonald. We turned around to get to Polebridge, where we would spend majority of the next four days.

Polebridge is not a town, city or even a village. The closest thing I could categorize it may be a commune. The winter population is 8, said a local, as we shot off fireworks in his back yard. “There are two that live in the mercantile, two in the saloon and us four.” The settlement rests on the fault line of the Livingston Mountain Range in the North Fork of the Flathead River valley, where the water’s still freezing from the melting snow and glacial lakes.

The mercantile could easily have the best baked-goods in the country, and the bakers wake up at 5:30 every morning to the sound of the single power generator in the field out back. They cook up hundreds of sandwiches, cookies and pastries and ring up tourists, park employees and locals on an old-fashioned till that might have been used when the merc first opened its doors. It’s powered by 30 percent solar and the most of the rest of the energy is in the form of propane stoves and lanterns.

The first night we set up camp behind our new friend Lauren’s cabin. It was pizza and volleyball night, so the saloon cooked up homemade pizzas that we washed down with pitchers of Kokanee (for Canada Day of course). The volleyball didn’t end until all we could see was a white ball against the black night and the slightly illuminated Rainbow and Numa peaks in the distance.

July 2^nd

I’ve never locked my keys in my car, but that all changed the morning of the 2^nd. I’m starting to get the reputation of a walking disaster. One of the hikes last hitch I decided to hook my Chacos to the back pocket of my backpack, and every mile or so I would realize that it was wide open and shit was falling out in the trail. All ended well, when the North Fork Trail crew called a few mornings later to tell us that they found my sunscreen, head lamp and backpack rain fly.

Anyways, we were all set to hike up to the lookout on Numa Peak. Breakfast sandwiches and coffee in hand, we left the parking lot, when I realized I left my socks in my car. I left it unlocked with all of our wallets, keys and phones inside. I had the employees of the merc looking after my car, since the crime rate there is so high…

I grabbed my socks, locked the door and shut it.

The shit show began. The owner of the mercantile was expecting a shipment of 6 portapoties for the 4^th of July festivities, and my car was right where they wanted to place them. She told me not to worry, enjoy the hike and she’ll try to find a way to unlock it, because she was going into town.

The hike was brilliant. We hit snow a couple hundred feet from the look out and continued to trek through it as Bowman Lake glowed a blue that only exists in Glacier Park. It’s from the glacial silt I’m told. Rainbow and Square peaks stared at us on the other side as well as the snow covered peaks of the Whitefish Range across the valley. Those 12 miles were a perfect way to get the locked car off my mind, but I soon had to face it.

We got back around 7 pm. The owner bought a lock jimmy from an auto shop, and Bobby, Cayley and I took turns hacking into my car under the hot afternoon sun. People came and went, giving us tips or a hand, but nothing worked, so I used Lauren’s AAA card to get a tow truck out to the 45 miles of dirt road. They were nice enough and said they’d get there in an hour.

That hour passed, when another employee found me and said that AAA was on the phone. It turned out that it would be a $100 surcharge, because it’s a “special” road to get up there. I told them I’d pay with some snarky comments about how it took an hour to figure that fact out.

As I hung up the phone, one of the guys who was working with us found me to say they’re making progress. I checked it out, and realized that this might be legitimate. So I raced back inside to cancel the truck.

At the shit show’s height, we had two tire irons propped into the window with a clothes hanger, a metal meter stick and the jimmy inside, attempting to grab either the handle, the latch or the unlock button. The thought of calling AAA back was only a few seconds away, when Grant, a local, got dropped off. He laughed and commented on our struggle. He told us that he has years experience breaking into cars at Big Mountain. I decided otherwise to ask if it was to help or to steal, but within 5 minutes of his arrival, he was able to push the unlock button with the meter stick.

And after a celebratory pitcher of Kokanee and free day old Polebridge sandwiches, we arrived back in West Glacier a little before midnight.

Independence Day

We brought reinforcements to Polebridge the next day. All of our bear crew and amphibian crew were present and even some of the fish crew. Who knew that this tiny place could put up such a 4^th of July party?

We camped on the banks of the North Fork on the 3^rd and made our way down the dirt road to witness the thousand or so people lining the parking lot and entrance. The parade was about to begin. The mercantile was closed for an hour, and the line at the door remained until the conclusion to get the best spot for lunch and cases of beer.

There may have been 5 floats, and it took about a half hour to complete the whole circuit. Once the parade finished, volleyball and beer was back on. It was an all day drink fest, but I still can’t tell if I was ever drunk. I guess I found out at the fire, when I hit a brick wall thanks to a local’s generous offering of devils lettuce.

I’m not one to be patriotic, but I thoroughly enjoyed this Independence Day, and all the locals were hooting and hollering about ‘Merica, and how fortunate we were to be free and in Polebridge in this country.

The Polebridge Porch Band assembled on the far side of the fire, and Devin the MC, rambled on about whisky in his whisky, as he drank more PBR. The first song was brought to us by PBR he said and sang a song about dandelions.

Oh lonely little dandelion seeds

Looking for a place to be

but everyone thinks your just a weed

but he’s just looking for a home.

Then the bluegrass began, and I doubt those are the lyrics, but they’re close enough. The guitars, mandolins and beers were passed around the fire to those who wanted to play, and we made it back to camp under the stars.

Ever thought you were like a dandelion seed?

Happy Birthday North ‘Merica all in one long weekend.

back to the backcountry.

cheers

Circles and Waves (Simple Math)

A freewrite poem for no reason:

The sky is hungry, and she's coming fast;
across the meadow, and no,
not even the snow capped peaks will slow her now.
Soon, she'll grow irritated and mad
and strike down all those
who may cross her path.

It's moments like this when god crosses my mind,
and I'm convinced it never was
or ever will be a single being.
He's a force of nature,
so complex, so emotional and powerful;
no book or race or soul
will ever define his reign.

We the people speak about power,
conquering the people who hold us back.
Progress is the name of the game,
and "in the name of god," we shout.
Guns blaring, flags waving,
blood runs red.

To all those who lived before me.
I'm sorry you were born blind.
It was never your fault,
but the ones with greed smeared across their grins,
who told you Adam ate from the tree of knowledge,
and now you're all sinned.
Knowledge is the key to Earth's survival.
Not to conquer,
but to protect
and serve.

We have Mother Nature and Father Time
to care for the clocks and weather,
but what about the running water?
the herds of sheep?
and the groves of aspen?
Rain will fall and years will pass,
but without our help no one will see what the gods performed.
The bears won't den on winter slopes.
Pines won't grow after a summer's burn.
Wolves won't howl to the night,
and we will never be able to watch
and take it all in.

See, everything works in simple mathematics;
in circles and waves,
if one factor goes, the other won't survive.
It's like a childhood game of dominos,
but the board spans for acres
for square kilometers,
and I bet what the birds will see
when it all crumbles away
is a portrait of a meadow
and a trail of smoke at one corner,
until all that's left are deserts
breeze
and lightning storms.

Just Like Summer Camp: Training Pt. II

June 16th

The cold rain returned to West Glacier sending away the crews to their respected areas after an eventful week of training.
Part of me wants everyone to stay here and work the park with us, but the other part is excited to get to know the Glacier crew even more.

We went out with a hoorah in epic fashion last night. Not only was it the last night we will all be together but it was Cayley's 21st birthday. And there is probably no better way to celebrate your 21st than at Fritas with 30 drunk outdoor/ bear enthusiasts. Let's just say this morning's hangover matched the weather.

But the collaborative hangover didn't let us off the hook for work. We were all right back at it, cutting wire, printing envelopes, and we even got a new job:

to grind up 5 barrels worth of fish guts. So the Cabinet-Yaak and Glacier crews switched off working in the pouring rain, chopping off the heads and shoving the bodies of hundreds of carp that we received from a bow fishing tournament at Canyon Ferry Lake. Even through the rain and a long hot shower I can smell the rotting fish on me. My water shoes may be ruined as well, currently reeking in the trunk of my car.

The last two days took us out in the field in groups to learn first hand how to survey the rub trees. It was a slow process for some of the newbies, but it didn't take any of the fun out of the day trips, and it was a nice change of pace from the classroom.

Tuesday brought Team Mike (Roesch and Beall) to the land of the power pines, a highway of a tree species fueled by electricity, aka power-lines. It was also optimal mosquito breeding territory. It was definitely not the greatest hike in the world, but we made it a good time. We saw a good amount of wildlife tracks and other traces, including a shit load of bear hair samples.

When evening arrived, another tasty family dinner was cooked and served to the music provided by Haakan, a fellow Glacier intern, and Dan Eker, who works in the Bob Marshall.

We moved the group down to Apgar on the south shore of Lake McDonald, where a gorgeous sunset was waiting.

The peaks on the far end still hold an ungodly amount of snow, and the constant rain and highs in the 50s equates more snow in the high country. It's a beautiful sight, but it means we will be waiting even longer to hit the passes.

Our group found snow on our Wednesday hike in the Whitefish Range near the North Fork Drainage. It was a much more scenic day, and it was strange to be walking on feet of snow, wearing shorts and gators as a rain, sleet hybrid fell down on us.

We were also reminded that bear crew is fun at the Polebridge Mercantile, where an employee asked all of us in hiking gear what we were up to. And with our answer, she laughed and said, "I heard you guys like to party."

Then we hit Fritas, and the rest is history.

cheers,

Beaz_

Just Like Summer Camp: Training Pt. I

June 11th

I knew this research project was big, but until this morning I had no idea the full scope of the bear project. Over the past 10 years, Kate Kendall and the Northern Continental Divide Ecosystem Grizzly Bear Project has received millions of dollars in funds from NGOs, the USGS, local and national governments. It spans from the Canadian border to Missoula, Libby to the Eastern front of the Rocky Mountains, encompassing eight million acres, five wilderness areas and Glacier National Park.
I felt privileged to be part of it in the first place, but now I feel borderline important.

A lot of pressure rides on every one of the crews, bio-techs and interns to take down data and keep it safe, because a lot of money and a lot of criticism is on the shoulders of us all. Believe it or not, but the locals in the area are not the biggest fans of bears, and some want them all gone. It hasn't been easy convincing these people that conserving a predator like the grizzly bear is an important part of not only their lives but future generations.

Kate spent the morning of the first day of training going over projects from the beginning that started in 1997 with the Greater Glacier Bear Project, where non-invasive techniques were first used to monitor bear populations to the current project. The Grizzly Bear DNA project is known world-wide as one of the state of the art research project ever initiated.
The rest of the day consisted of frisbee, free food, bear safety and bear spray. We even got kicked out early due to some folks who love god maybe a little too much. During Amy's final presentation, she was interrupted three times by three different people to warn us that the sunny weather outside is too iffy to hold mass outside in Apgar, so 100 worshipers came storming in as she gave her final words on field protocol.
I remain by my philosophy that I don't mind religion, but its believers are a bit oblivious of the world around them. Going to church is one thing, but another is being respectful to the people and world you coexist with. I'm not saying I'm the most virtuous individual in the world, but they need to take a look at themselves. Sir, in your SUV, if you don't have the patience to wait for me to tie my shoelaces before you pray to the force of nature, you don't deserve to be taken up by the rapture. Sorry to burst your dream bubble mang.
Anyways...Today I revitalized my excitement for this summer and my journalism project I want to complete. Throughout Kate's talk, I was writing vigorously, outlining my plan, my sources I want to talk to and the direction I want to take. If there's anything that will save the world or even a population of threatened animals, it will all come down to public opinion and their combined conscious. I'm starting to realize that this is what journalism is all about: opening up the minds of locals to an idea in a way that they will willingly partake in the cause. And if I can't be passionate about a cause as important and extensive as Kate Kendall's work with USGS then I don't deserve to be called an aspiring journalist.
The project might get their information published in science journals, but that is not going to get out to the people who need to hear it. Kate talked about her experience on Capital Hill in 2008, during the presidential campaigns, when John McCain called the project a waste of money right along with the "Bridge to Nowhere." He ended up changing his public opinion thanks to a Washington Post reporter who decided to talk to Kate and published a full spread feature in the Post. Those are the stories that get to people. I want that to be my job.
I've been slacking on my writing and blogging lately, because people have finally shown up, and goddamnit am I excited for this summer. The crew I'm part of is going to be awesome. I had the privilege to pick up all the interns. I had my doubts, but my pessimistic mind was trumped by my longing to meet new people and expand my horizons from my tiny bubble of Missoula, Mont. There's something about people who work with wildlife or even as simple as being passionate and wanting to work for little to no pay just to say they were part of something amazing.

June 12th.

It's beginning to feel like summer. Despite the scattered thunder storms over the past few days, the sun has been strong and tourists are starting to crowd the mercantile and the rest of West Glacier. I even had traffic, a string of 12 cars, on my way back to Coram.
I'm currently sipping a beer at the Stonefly happy hour to get a little break from the crowds and constant action that bear crew brought to camp. The Shins are playing lightly over the speakers, and locals are scattered around the bar and booths, chatting or using the only free wifi in the area. I'm starting to think that bars are an improvement to coffee shops in the free internet category.
Last night all 45-50 members of the bear crew met up at Kate's home in the Flathead Valley that sits on 60 acres or so right along the Flathead River. There was a point between the storms that I thought I was back in the rainforest of Australia, as the sun set cut through the misty rain clouds. If only the trees were palms instead of deciduous, and the water wasn't 38 degrees.
We drank beer and ate delicious food, played badminton, talked about the status of the world and of course bears and bear crew. Things may have become slightly fuzzy by the time we returned. But all in all it was a great night.
Training today was another classroom day, and I'm starting to get antsy to get out in the field again. There's only so much we can learn about field protocol and safety in a classroom setting. Although the things Amy and Kate are telling us will be important in the early hitches. The rivers are still huge and fast, and the snow is still increasing in the high country. Apparently, in the middle of the park there are a range of flat top mountains that are currently holding five feet worth of water in the snow pack, and those mountains are no where close to the highest peaks or have the most snow. It's going to be one hell of a summer, and I don't think any of us in the Glacier crew will understand until we experience it first hand.
Tomorrow's training session will be all about river and snow crossing. We get to go out in the field and prove we can handle what we've been learning in the slideshows.
Well, gotta go and return to the rest of the crew.

cheers,



June 13th
Bear Spray, River and Snow Crossings