The Great American Summer

What does summer in America evoke for you?  Perhaps family vacations.  Perhaps warm, lazy days with nothing better to do than dip your toes in the kiddie paddling pool.  Most certainly the Fourth of July and fireworks.

In Chapter Four of my ongoing summer series (see Chapter One, Two and Three), we celebrate several treasured American summer past-times.

ONE: Visiting a National Park.  On July 2, we cruised the iconic Going to the Sun Road in Glacier National Park with my in-laws.  As many of you know from previous posts, most of this road is closed over the winter due to deep snow.  This year, the road opened to vehicles on June 23.  So, in early July, snow is still abundant above 6,000 feet, and you brace yourself for the brisk temperatures.

Meadow at Logan Pass - glacier lilies emerging

The 'snow line' is very marked on the mountains in the distance;

cars snake along the Going to the Sun Road on the right slope

None of it was enough to discourage my 79-year-old father-in-law, engaged in the challenge of hiking 1.5 miles one-way to Hidden Lake Overlook, on a trail almost completely obscured by snow.  We made it, and then faced the test of the slight downhill slope on the return.  I wonder at the miracle that neither one of us ended up on our behinds!!!

You can spy a corner of unfrozen Hidden Lake in the middle left

Upper left: yep, prevailing wind comes from the west!

Upper right: 'ants' on the Hidden Lake Overlook trail

Lower left: on a clear day you can see forever

Lower right: sun desperately trying to break through

Note: if you read my Savoring September post, you know that we took our former neighbors on this same trail on September 28.   That post shows the first signs of snow and rime on the trail.  Just 10 days later, due to continued winter weather, the Park closed the Going to the Sun Road.  We have come full circle!

TWO: Going to a fireworks display.  The town of Whitefish launches its fireworks from a barge in the center of its eponymous lake.  Angling for the best view, boats of all shapes and sizes put-put carefully around each other before dropping anchor.  (My mother-in-law fretted over a mama duck and several ducklings, that paddled this way and that, seemingly confused by the traffic.  Ultimately, they disappeared in the direction of the lake's outlet into Whitefish River.)  Stand-up paddleboards inch into the open spaces.  Crowds build at the beach, blanketing every square inch as the sun sinks behind Lion Mountain.  You can feel the anticipation growing, until suddenly the first 'whoosh' is heard out on the water, and the crowd answers back ; "OOH, AAH."  It has begun.

THREE: Small-town glories.  I adore small towns.  They have character.  A slower pace.  A size you can wrap your arms around.  And often, in the summer, bountiful flowers.  Such is Bigfork, nestled in an elbow of the Swan River.

Upper left: Bee balm; Upper right: no idea, but I think it's cool

We sauntered along the Swan River nature trail, and noshed on picnic nibbles, before heading to Electric Avenue (yes, that's the name of its main street!) for a peek in the shops.

Man with Hat and his parents looking for Sasquatch … LOL!

In my case, my attention was drawn to the riot of color in the beds and baskets maintained by the retail establishments.  You can market yourself on the Web and social media, but sometimes your best 'advertising' is right outside your shop's doors - what attracts you to enter a store that is new to you?

Lupines pointing the way to Whitefish Lake seen in the distance

FOUR:  A family hike (with gondola).  With gondola, you ask?  Well, in the summer, Whitefish Mountain Resort operates Chair One with conventional chairs, small gondolas, and equipment especially designed to transport mountain bikes.  It benefits the hikers and bikers who prefer to traverse the mountain one-way (downhill!!!)  So, on a warm July day (only four days after our visit to Logan Pass!!), we introduced my in-laws to a gondola - chalk up another new life experience!!!  At the summit of Big Mountain (6,817 feet), you have a 360-degree view of alpine splendor: the Flathead Valley and long-distance views of Glacier National Park and the Canadian Rockies, not to mention the Bob Marshall, Great Bear, Scapegoat and Cabinet wilderness areas.  When you can finally drag yourself from the vista, the Danny On trail takes 3.8 miles to wind its way back to the ski village.

In early July, the mountain is awash with glacier lilies, lupines and other spring wildflowers.

Upper left: Parrot's Beak; Middle left: Glacier Lily; Lower left: Fairy Bells

The trail plays peek-a-boo with the views, as it passes among stands of old-growth forest, or dips into a chute between the hills.  For Spousal Unit and me, it was entertaining to see the mountain in this context, now that we have experienced a season of skiing/riding these slopes.  You can imagine that much of it looks different now that it has been freed from 33 feet worth of snowfall …

Penstemon (there are dozens of species and the blue/purple

penstemons are difficult to identify at the species level)

The Danny On Trail was dedicated as a memorial to Danny On, a Forest Service ecologist and renowned nature photographer, conservationist and avid skier on Big Mountain.  Danny generously gave his time to teach novices about nature, photography, skiing and forestry.  Danny died at the age of 55 in a skiing accident on Big Mountain.

Perhaps this is a reminder to each of us to make the most of every day, especially on the simplest of traditions.












Linking to:

All Seasons

I Like Thursday

Mosaic Monday

Nature Notes

Our World Tuesday

Sharon's Photo Souvenirs

Skywatch Friday

Wednesday Around the World

Willy Nilly Friday

Horses, Homes and Huckleberries

Yesterday morning, frost coated every outdoor surface like a fine layer of diamond dust.  It glinted in the sun, and then slowly melted into wispy mist that floated eerily through the trees.  I could imagine Summer in the vapor, inexorably disappearing as Fall gains the upper hand.  It was a fitting metaphor, as yesterday we said farewell to the last of our latest round of summer visitors.








Hence, I offer you Chapter Two of the "summer visitor series" (link to Chapter One).

On September 7, just as the dinner bell rang, six of my family arrived on our doorstep - my mother, my oldest sister, my oldest brother and his wife, and my youngest brother and his wife.  For all but the latter, this would be the first time they would step foot into our completed dream home.  Talk about excitement and anticipation!

Left: Book about successful baking at high altitude - for Spousal Unit!

Middle: Cross-stitch for my gallery wall

Right: Utah wines - yum!

Note that the Boddington's beer and Kendall Jackson wine are MIA

because they were already imbibed!

Our guests honored us with thoughtful housewarming and 'hostess' gifts.  Thanks, guys!

Captain Doug's boat moored at the beach

The next day, we wasted no time and jumped directly into tour guide mode, with a boat trip on Flathead Lake, destination Wild Horse Island.  At 2,160 acres, Wild Horse Island is the largest island in a freshwater lake west of Minnesota.  The island has been a landmark since the Salish-Kootenai Indians were reported to have used it to pasture horses to keep them from being stolen by other tribes.  The park is noted for its wildlife including bighorn sheep, mule deer, songbirds, waterfowl, bald eagles, and falcons, as well as five wild horses.  Rare and endangered species have also been found on its Palouse Prairie grasslands.  The island's scenic shoreline is a favorite of hikers, boaters, swimmers and sailboat enthusiasts.

Pictographs documenting bison kills by the Salish-Kootenai Indians

You could have this house and its island for $15 million … it's for sale!

(and this is a steal - it was built for $98 million)

Captain Doug motored his boat (a perfect fit for the 8 of us) while sharing interesting history (and probably a few tall tales).  There is no dock on the island, but Captain Doug had perfected off-loading passengers with a portable ladder.  After a brief orientation to the layout of the island, we headed out on the trail while Captain Doug went off on his own.  We had seen very limited wildlife (squirrels don't count) when we encountered Captain Doug.  Part of our group decided to work their way back to the beach, while my oldest brother and I went with Doug in search of the horses.  I am pleased to report that we found the band of 5 mares, and the other group came across the bighorn sheep and some turkeys.  A win-win for all!

Upper right: horses are hidden in this grove of trees …

Sunday brought Mass at our local church followed by breakfast/lunch at Sykes Diner.  Fortunately, our next stop - Conrad Mansion - provided an opportunity to stroll the grounds and stave off food-induced napping!  The Mansion, sited in Kalispell, is a beautifully preserved  example of luxurious living and period architecture in the Northwest.

In 1868, at the age of 18, Charles E. Conrad left his boyhood home in Virginia and traveled to Fort Benton, Montana Territory.  There he built a trading and freighting empire on the Missouri River that lasted more than 20 years.  In his lifetime, Mr. Conrad lived through the Civil War and the settling of the West, and he left an indelible mark on the history of Montana.

The building itself remains unchanged since Spokane architect Kirtland Cutter designed and built the 23-room-home in 1895 for Mr. Conrad, founder of Kalispell.  Ahead of their time, the owner and architect built in electricity, steam heat, running water and a hand-driven elevator.  Although you can't take interior pictures, the 90-minute tour of the house gives you a thorough look at the furnishings, most of which are original to the home.  Ownership and occupation of this stunning Norman style mansion remained in the Conrad family until 1975, when it was given to the City of Kalispell, which ultimately turned over the active management of the site to the non-profit Conrad Mansion Museum organization.

And what could be a better way to wrap the weekend but an inaugural fire in the fire pit, accompanied by s'mores?  (The night sky was pitch black, and my brothers helped us spot satellites tracking across the heavens, low enough to reflect the last of the sun's rays.)

The little village of Bigfork, nestled in an elbow of the Swan River, is a perfect spot for a walk along the Wild Mile.  A picturesque section of the river with rapid upon rapid, it is host to the Bigfork Whitewater Festival each spring.  Monday meant few people on the trail, and we enjoyed a picnic lunch before exploring the quaint shops.  The best part was the huckleberry ice cream, with whole berries exploding in my mouth.  When we arrived home, my Mom harvested the first of our Goodland apples; this tree was planted in her honor earlier this year (see post).  We all tried a piece or two, and the consensus on the flavor is the tartness of a Granny Smith, softened by tones of Golden Delicious.  Fleshy without being mushy.  We also agreed that the rest of the apples would benefit from a little more time on the tree, and a hard frost.  So watch this space for more apples!

And all too soon, departure day arrived for everyone except my oldest brother and his wife.  We shared the breakfast table and then it was hugs all 'round before we headed to the day's hike while the others went on their way.  Glacier Lake had been recommended by a friend, and she was on the money!  Radiant fall colors.  Pools formed by Glacier Creek.  Only 1.6 miles to the lake, with minimal elevation gain.  A lake cradled by mountains, unique on the west side with massive rock slabs slanting down to the water's edge.  What more could you ask?

(And we had to stop at Moose's in Kalispell for pizza and beverages!)

My sister-in-law is a superb quilter, and so our trip to Whitefish the next day had to include a stop in Whitefish Quilts and Gifts.  She was delighted to find some fat quarters with a huckleberry motif.  And the huckleberry theme continued that evening as Spousal Unit and my SIL crafted a White Chocolate Huckleberry Cheesecake.  Supreme willpower was required to wait for a taste until the following morning, but boy, was it worth it and perfectly paired with coffee!!!  By far the best cheesecake ever -- smooth, out-of-this-world flavor!

On our final day together, we shared two of our favorites with our guests - Kootenai Falls/Swinging Bridge and Ross Creek Cedars (see previous post).  In between, searching for a quiet picnic spot, we stumbled across the Dorr Skeels Campground.  












Only a bald eagle, flying along the western shore before perching in a pine, disturbed the absolute peace of the beach we chose for lunch.

And now the house is quiet. The sunrise will be here tomorrow, and so will the aspens, quickly transforming with each day of frost.  But now we are the only witnesses - at least until our next guests arrive - in 12 days!

Linking to:

All Seasons

I Like Thursday

Mosaic Monday

Nature Notes

Our World Tuesday

Saturday's Critters

Sharon's Photo Souvenirs

Skywatch Friday

Wednesday Around the World

Willy Nilly Friday