Slow Spring Coming!

Believe it or not, the photo above while taken early January, doesn't look much different than the view that greeted my eyes April 23rd when I finally made it back to the resort.

Not that I haven't wanted to go home. Wanted might not be a strong enough term. I'm craving the peace, quiet and complete relaxation which only comes from returning home.

But, like my title says, it's been a slow spring coming! A wetter than usual winter. A cooler than normal spring. A slower than normal road department. All this, and more, has denied us access to Elk Lake.

In spite of the challenges, however, we gained our objective yesterday, via snowmobile.

We took advantage of a brief window - a window created by 6 - 8 inch of new snow, a couple of cold days which firmed the surface of the existing snow, and a beautiful, sunny day!

In spite of the winter drapery, signs of spring are visible (and very welcome) at Elk Lake. Several meadowlarks watched our arrival from their roadside perches. Many south facing slopes have shrugged off their winter cape and are soaking in the sun with obvious pleasure.

Moose are leaving the valley floor - although slowly - seeking out fresh grazing and the freshly sprouting shrubbery. And, as an aside, it is a GOOD thing because the wolves have been wrecking havoc on our moose population. It sure proves a few old fashioned winters with the current wolf population could end up descimating our moose and elk population. After all, weak from low feed, limited in their movements by the heavy snow, and lacking fangs and claws for an even fight, prey are definitely at a disadvantage!

But, back on track - new openings are appearing in the lake's ice. The spring near the lodge is flowing with merry abandon. Wolves, coyotes, foxes and numerous other prey animals are expanding their territory - with their tracks appearing all over the place.

The hawks are changing color - from their white winter plumage to their darker summer colors. In fact, I have even seen my first bluebird, always a welcome sign of spring!

So, if Beaverhead County would get on the ball and open our road, I'd be back home 'with bells on'! I dare not say spring is my favorite time of year at Elk Lake (since I've said that about every season at least once), but I this year, my anticipation of spring and my anticipation of going home are equally intense!

Lady of the Lake

Don't Try To Run If Your Shoes Don't Fit!

I was cross country sking a couple days ago. The weather was turning nasty so I hurriedly put on my gear and headed out the door. I hadn't gotten out of the yard before I tangled up my skies. I didn't think much of it until on down the trail it happened again.

Wondering at my sudden clumsiness (consider I hadn't had that problem once prior this season), I looked at the skies. Well, guess what? Yep, I'd grabbed the wrong skies. In fact, I'd grabbed my husband's skies (same brand but about a foot longer). No wonder I felt like I had duck feet with monster popsicle sticks stuck to them!

It got me to thinking about life. How often do we find ourselves trying to 'make it work' while we wonder why it's so hard. For me, the problem is often perspective. And, perspective you can change.

Take the woman who came in for lunch yesterday. She was so upset she could hardly eat. In jerks and starts we got the story. She had a severe fear of uneven ground - sidehills. Well, with the wind this winter there are enough side hills around to make even an average rider nervous.

Needless to say, she was trying to run in shoes which were too big. Of course from my position I say 'what's the big deal?'. However, having faced fear a few times myself I am a bit more understanding.

What does this have to do with Elk Lake? It may not seem like much, but I think a lot. After all, living out here it often feels like we're wandering around in someone else's shoes.

Daily life puts us into uncomfortable positions. Positions which challenge us - and often make us wonder, metaphorically, where we got these lunkers on our feet.

So my point - when life throws you size 15's - stuff the toes with socks and get on with life - just don't try to run! Slowly but surely I'm learning it's possible to face most of the challenges of life if I can just get my perspective right!

Speaking of perspective! It has been the most unusual winter. Snow almost every day! What happened to our Montana sunshine? Most days it has hid behind clouds. However, although the snow comes in teeny tiny flakes, it has come!

Snowmobiling is about as good as it can get. Powder hounds are in heaven! And, as long as we can get in and out (which isn't always an easy thing to do), we're happy if they are.

Of course, today's like today - deep blue skies which defy description, sunshine so bright it hurts your eyes (even when you're indoors), and a moose or two - or a trumpeter or three - or a fox to - add life to the landscape - well, today my shoes fit just fine, thank you!

Lady of the Lake

Then versus Now

Any season in the Centennial provides a challenge. For example, our remote location makes getting to the store an ordeal, if not a challenge, regardless of the season. Planning a grocery trip, spring, summer, fall, or winter, requires quite a bit of organization.

Some things never change. The following excerpt from Centennial Valley History, Vol 1 could have been taken from a recent conversation.

"Figuring out and ordering supplies . . . was quite a task in itself. Figuring out the food needed . . . ahead of time was a skill. Most women spent some time deciding on this list and gained experience as the years went along." (pg 164)

The primary difference between 'then' and 'now'? Back then, they purchased supplies for a family (and the work crew, and a few visitors). Back then, they purchased everything except what they raised, for a six to twelve month period.

Now, we purchase supplies to feed 30 people or more EVERY day. We purchase everything - no 'exceptions.' Some things are purchased in sufficient quantities for six months or so. Others, like fresh produce and dairy products, are purchased for the week.

What has really changed - and yet has changed little - is the difficulty getting in and out of the valley. Of course, a major change is the mode of transportation. We've come a LONG way from horse-drawn transportation. During the Centennial's developmental 'hayday', few had cars and no one had a snowmobile. In fact, I believe the first snow machine used in the valley was the homemade snow plane used for mail delivery.

Now, no one considers horse-drawn transportation. We ride comfortably in our cars or on our snowmobiles. But, coming in last Sunday evening, at below zero temperatures with a brutal wind adding to our discomfort, was far from 'comfortable.' In fact, I wondered once again how our fore-fathers and mothers managed to survive.

Granted, they purchased their supplies in bulk. People only moved about when absolutely necessary. In fact, one early valley resident is credited with saying the valley wasn't fit for man or beast in the winter. None-the-less, people lived here. They survived. They flourished.

Normally, I would vehemently argue the valley's lack of 'fitness' in the winter. However, last Sunday I was close to agreement. And, if I had to spend any length of time outside today, I'd heartily agree. When temperatures drop below zero, and stay there, only my very hairy dog seems unaffected.

However, season and temperatures aside, getting around the valley can be challenging now, but even more so then. Winter, of course, often brought the greatest challenges. In fact, a letter from Wm J Brundage to Donnee Stibal, dated Aug 22, 1988, and excerpted in the Centennial Valley, Vol 1, tells about one particularly hairy winter.

". . . The horses and sleighs thru the winter had packed the snow for a foot or eighteen inches in each sled track. If a sleigh got off the road with one runner on the road and one runner off, it would tip over; so when two sleighs met (which wasn't often) the driver of the empty one or with the least load would turn out. His sleigh would tip on its side. The other driver would go on by, unhitch his team, come back and hook onto the other sleigh and help to get it upright and back on the road. Then he would go back to his own sleigh, hook up and both would be on their way again." (pg 120)

Now, the only way in and out is by snowmobile. When hauling a cargo trailer behind a snowmobile, however, the picture can get a bit 'grainy and old-fashioned.' For example, get the runner of the cargo trailer off the packed trail and you can end up with a wreck much like the one described above. Fortunately, a snowmobile cargo trailer (for that matter a snowmobile) weighs less than a horse-drawn wagon!

When people look at our lifestyle, shake their heads, and marvel at our resiliance (or craziness), I look a bit further back. Yes, we live a different lifestyle. Sometimes, it's a bit challenging. Sometimes it feels a bit hard. But, I've decided our fore-fathers and mothers were the extremely tough people.

After all, although my finger tips never thawed (last Sunday), my handwarmers kept frostbite at bay and my hands mobile. Although my nose began to hurt and tingle, my helmet protected my head and face from the elements. Although the cold bit through my bibs and coat, the quality of my clothing kept me fairly comfortable. Although the wind gusted wildly around my sled, my snowmobile blocked the bulk of it.

Thus, although life in the Centennial has its own unique challenges, and although life at Elk Lake Resort isn't always fun and games, it's home. And, there really is No Place Like Home!!

Remote - ly Resort Living

I couldn't resist using the title. Elizabeth, editor of the Island Park News, suggested it, for an article I recently submitted.

Of course, our style of life doesn't appeal to everyone. It doesn't always appeal to us! However, most people really don't see the 'real picture' when they conceive of what it is like to run a resort this far off the beaten path. I think most have a bit of a rose-colored view of our lives.

They're aren't so unusual. Not when you think about it. After all, how many times do we think, "Now, if I could have a job like that . . ." or "If I could live there, I'd. . . "

Often reality is not exactly what we're perceiving. Take our resort. I can't count the times I've been asked, "What's it like living here?" I can't tell you how many women have said, "I could NEVER live here." I couldn't begin to guess how many men have said to my husband, "I wish I could live here." (with a wistful look clouding their eyes and fuzzing their otherwise clear heads)

Reality - well, reality can be wonderful. However, it is always mixed with, well, with reality! Take the trip to the store last week.

It doesn't sound like much. 27 miles. Shoot. Lots of people drive that far to work every day. No big deal. Right? Wrong!

For us, that 27 miles means 18 miles via snowmobile hauling a cargo trailer. The final 9 miles are the easy part. Even with nasty, slick, snow-covered roads, it's a piece of cake compared to what the first 18 miles can throw at you.

Don't get me wrong. That first 18 miles can be the BEST part of the trip - hands down. After all, who else gets to zoom along at 25 - 55 (or more) mph, jumping over hillocks, zooming up hills, flying across frozen lakes? But, add in a foot or so of fresh snow, a hearty wind, and a trail no one else has dared yet traverse - then add in a big snowmobile (has to be, it gets to haul in several hundred pounds with each load) and a cargo trailer to add 'spice'. Then you're starting to get the real picture.

So, out he goes, my trusty hubby, to get the supplies. He left early to avoid traveling in the dark. Dark, blowing snow, a load of supplies often equals YUK! STUCK! or WORSE!

Anyway, he heads down the trail. About 1/2 an hour later I get a call. (He calls me from the truck, but that is usually 45 minutes later. So I'm wondering?) "I'm going to be awhile," he says.

"I'm stuck. Bad!"

Seems the wind had crafted an nasty side hill with a nice cornice on top and a deep ditch to the inside. To a good rider on a powder sled, this translates into 'fun'. To a good rider on a power sled with a trailer in tow, this translates into 'Uh, Oh!' So, he takes the only safe alternative - the ditch.

Seemed like a good idea until he found the wind had curved that hillside and cornice around. Thus the end had a wonderful 5 foot straight up wall. No problem. He's on a power sled. Right?

Right! But he's towing a trailer. Translate this into "STUCK!" "BAD!" An hour, many gallons of sweat, and bucket loads of frustration later, he calls me. "I'm out!"

To add insult to injury, he got stuck again coming back. However, God was gracious. This time it only took 15 minutes to free himself.

Consider that when you next head to the store. And, if you'd like to read a bit more on our lives here at Elk Lake (in good fun and a bit tongue in cheek, of course), check out the article the kind editor of Island Park News posted this week.

Lady of the Lake

The Hard Push

It's that time of year - time when we're constantly thinking of the upcoming season. Of course, we're thinking about our guests. We're thinking about the fun (and work). We're thinking about friends we will soon see. We're thinking about a LOT of things - but mostly, at this late date, we're thinking about how we're going to get everything done in time.

What that boils down to is a lot of long days and short nights. But, we're starting to see a glimmer of light at the end of this long tunnel. And, although we hit the bed tired every night, we're also pleased to see our projects coming together.

But, the highlight of the last two weeks (yeah, I know, I've failed to update this thing for two weeks. However, it isn't my fault! If they'd only advance our computer technology so I could just 'think' it in, it would have been on time.) was an ATV ride we took the other day. No, we didn't have time. But, it was fun - and we saw a TON of wildlife. It was definitely a nice breather.

Oh, and did I mention we saw a TON of wildlife? Lots of moose, over a hundred antelope, two fox, one badger, a large variety of birds including numerous sandhill cranes, and oodles of elk. To borrow a new phrase (to me), "The hills were lousy with elk." It was absolute the best elk viewing I've ever enjoyed, hands down. Never, even in the Park, have I seen so many elk. It seemed like every hill had a half-dozen or more.

Anyone who has read my blog for any length of time knows I appreciate having the Wildlife Refuge in my backyard. But, I must admit the elk, antelope, and moose don't seem to see it as anything special.

To listen to (and read) all the "hot air" expended by some environmental groups (or as I prefer to call them - eco-emotionalists), one would think that any kind of development is all for the worse. Any kind of 'management' is resulting in some kind of harm to mother nature. Anything but 'hands-off' and 'people-locked-out' is for the worse for all forms of nature.

However, they forgot to tell the wildlife. After driving nearly an hour through the refuge, we turned off into private and state lands. The private lands, of course, are grazed, as are the public lands. As far as I know, the private lands are also logged, on occasion, as are the state lands. However, it wasn't until we began our trek through the private and then the state lands that we began to see wildlife. And, like I mentioned above, there was a LOT to see.

So it leaves me wondering, "Just who do they think they're fooling?" Obviously not the wildlife!

Lady of the Lake

Life in the 'Real World'

On our off-seasons we visit family. That's just the way it is. Well, more than that, that's what we promised we would do when we up and moved way out to Montana. However, every time we do, I find myself forced to wake, again, from my 'dream'.

It's this way. I chose not to watch much TV. I rarely listen to the radio. In fact, my primary contact with the rest-of-the-world is through our guests. Since most of our guests come to escape the rest-of-the-world, current events are rarely discussed. Of course, all this adds up to my hearing next to nothing about what's going on in the 'real world'.

It doesn't bother me. I figure if something major happens, I'll hear about it from someone. If I don't, well, I don't. When we visit family, however, I get large doses of reality. I see the news (on occasion). I listen to the radio (rarely). Mostly I 'see' changes - changes which have occurred in style, new developments carving away at the open spaces, or little things which I don't pay much attention to on those quick runs for supplies which constitute my 'trips to town' in the busy season.

Take the traffic. One hour of traffic on any major thoroughfare in the city is more than we see all summer at the lodge. I find myself feeling sorry for my fellow travelers. Then I remind myself, most of them would find my home far to far off the beaten path for their enjoyment, let alone their comfort level.

Without fail I'm reminded how blessed we are to live where we do. Without fail I'm anxious to return. Without fail I realize how quickly things change. Mostly, I guess, I'm thankful our children are growing up close to nature and far from the city.

None-the-less, Elk Lake never looks better than it does when we return from a few days (or a few weeks) spent in the 'real world'.

Lady of the Lake

Children and Nature
I find it interesting that in a day and age where we are concerned with many things - including 'saving nature for our children' - we find ourselves with a bigger problem most of us haven't even recognized (or at least acknowledged). Our children, for the most part, are afraid of the nature we are saving. Why? Because, for too many of today's children, nature - the wilderness outside their own backyard, or even outside their back door - is a foreign territory.

I remember one family which came to visit the Trumpeter Swans at the Red Rock Lakes National Wildlife Refuge here in the valley. Nothing unique about that, necessarily, except they came from Manhattan. When they first arrived, not only were the children afraid to get away from their cabin - or the lodge - or their car - but their mother (and maybe even their father) appeared to be terrified to let them.

After a day or so, and with the prodding of their own desire to play with our children, they began to stretch their horizons. As they made their 'baby' steps into the 'wilderness' (the resort yard), their mother tied bells to their pants legs and watched with obvious anxiety - clearly afraid of the unknown.

By the time they left - several days later - these concrete and asphalt children were running and playing in the 'wild' - with great abandon and overwhelming joy.

For me, it was like watching a butterfly come out of its cocoon. However, in light of my recent research on the benefits children derive from spending time in nature, this metamorphosis has taken on a deeper meaning.

My own children have been blessed, for extended periods of their growing up years, to spend hours in the vast and wild outdoors. We have lived in uniquely wild and natural locations. First in a place where our nearest neighbor was over a mile away and the great USFS was out our back door. More recently at Elk Lake Resort where our nearest neighbor is over 15 miles away and we are surrounded by undeveloped pure nature. In fact, my youngest knows no other life.

Such privileges have skewed my viewpoint, I think. It wasn't until I watched four young men (nephews by marriage) at a recent family gathering spend their entire time 'playing' with gameboys that I woke up to the rest of the world. These young men, all healthy (physically) and bright, had nearly no 'conversation'. They didn't spend ANY time out of doors. In fact, they showed their strongest skills were quick thumb reactions. What a shame! I got to wondering if we aren't raising a new generation - with quick thumb reactions!

That led to the remembrance of an article I read several years ago. Written by an old cowboy, this article lamented this very fact - but from a different perspective. The cowboy writer told of traveling into the back woods one busy summer holiday weekend. He covered nearly 100 miles - and saw nearly no one (and found all the backwoods campgrounds empty). He wondered to his wife where everyone was.

The next day he went to the local 'tourist trap' - the lakeside resort area near town. And - he found everyone. His sad conclusion: we are working so hard to 'save' our lands from development for our children, and yet, we are afraid to get out and enjoy the lands we are saving.

Personally, I think we've got a two-generation problem. We've got the 'parents' generation which are aware of nature, have probably spent time during their formative years in at least large back yards if not large fields or nearby woods, and realize (at least in a back recess of their brains) the need to 'protect' our natural areas from development. However, in reality 'we' are the problem.

We 'protect' the land, but we aren't really comfortable in the 'wild' anymore. Therefore, we don't come to the land. We don't bring our children to the land. We don't enjoy (and teach our children to enjoy) the land. We foolishly think by 'saving' the land, we somehow have done our duty. And, yet, will our children thank us?

As we 'save' this land, we close more and more land to public access. What have we gained? We are raising a generation which is afraid of the 'wild' because we have never taught them to enjoy it. And, we have created more 'wild' areas which won't be used (they are to foreign to our children) by the vast majority - and we've closed them to the generation who still remembers and would use them (our parents' generation).

I'm beginning to wonder if our future problem isn't the urban sprawl which is eating up our rural lands - but the great dichotomy which we are creating. The asphalt and concrete world where our children feel comfortable, and the 'wild' places we are protecting. From whom? For whom?

Lady of the Lake

It's DONE!

Finally, after literrally months of work, I've finally got the new and improved version (or at least updated and enlarged version) of our web page up and running. It has been an effort - and not a lot of fun sometimes - but there is an incredible sense of accomplishment having reached this point.

Of course, if I'd known it would take this long, and be this hard - well, to be honest I wouldn't have started. However, even though I'm still working out the bugs, it is a pleasure to be able to look at it and know I did it - for better or worse - I'm responsible! Check it out!

Okay, to the weather news: Today is sunny. After several days of spitting snow and clouds, the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and life's good! Days like this I wonder how on earth anyone could live anywhere else.

And, wildlife: yesterday was a ridiculously slow day. I can honestly report I saw as many moose as I did people. Two of each. The moose (at least the one) were definitely harder to get along with.

In fact, yesterday afternoon we looked out our sliding door - from upstairs - and here is a moose! If I'd been on ground level we would have nearly been nose-to-nose! It was definitely in a BAD mood! It was licking its lips, stomping its feet, and pinning its ears. Craig had to snowball it (there was a little moisture in our recent snow fortunately) to get it to back off. I tried yelling - it just gave me the evil eye.

Thinking back to our first year and our first experience with moose always makes me laugh. Yesterday was too similar to that first encounter. Here we are - an agressive moose in the yard. Everytime (for several days) he shows up, the kids run for the house. The dogs run for the deck. So, what does one do?

Craig calls the refuge and asks the biologist how to discourage his overzealous attention. "Throw rocks at him."

Throw rocks at him? Nice idea, but there's 2 feet of snow covering all the rocks. So, Craig decides to try snowballs. Well, if you've never experienced winter in Montana, you might not immediately suspect the problem with the plan. In Montana, the snow usually has a very low water content, i.e. it's dry. Dry snow doesn't stick together. So, no snowballs.

Now what? Well, to make a long story short, in the end they cut up potatoes and threw them at Mr. Moose (it was a bull, by the way). He finally takes the hint and leaves - I suspect only to return as soon as we were out of sight and feast on the potatoes we threw at him. Oh, well, moose are moose!

Lady of the Lake