Road Trip #2, The Flathead Valley

"A tired dog is a good dog" Bob Warwood

My Memorial Day weekend was a road trip to gorgeous Columbia Falls, Montana. I was with the Butte Girl. Her uncle has been having some medical problems and was in the hospital so we went up for a visit. He is still on the road to recovery but things look good. We headed to CF Friday afternoon. As usual, here are some photos that tell the story of my travels.

As far as I'm concerned, all good road trips begin with someone else driving. In this case, I recommend a Butte Girl. They aren't afraid to drive fast, they keep it between the lines and they carry loaded .38's in their vehicles. Its a great combination.

Sloan is ready. We've knocked a turd out of her and she is ready to hit the road. She doesn't travel as well as she used to but then who does.

The Tobacco Root Mountains. I love the Tobacco Roots. At the rate the snow is melting I won't be able to get to Mine Lake until mid-July. I like that all the farmers have their irrigation lines out and running. They'll be cutting hay in 2 or 3 weeks. I like watching the swathers and balers operate.

Butte exits coming up!! We are going to take Montana Street to go to Muzz and Stan's for a quick bite to eat.

This is Our Lady of the Rockies. It is the second largest statue in Montana and the largest Madonna in the United States. I'm not going to go into an entire history of Butte for all of you non-Montanans but suffice it to say that the copper mine in Butte made Montana. Butte had a population of 120,000 people at the turn of the 20th century and was one of the largest cities west of the Mississippi. Although its on the west side of the Continental Divide I still love Butte. It has more sense of community than Bozeman, Billings, Great Falls and Missoula put together times ten. Take time to click on the link and read the story about what the people of this largely Irish community did to make this happen. They are just everyday folks like the rest of us. Its a good story.

Two happy girls.

Butte Girl "you aren't going to put these pictures on your blog are you?"

Me, "Of course not."

Muzz and Stan's Freeway Bar and Grill.

Muzz and Stan's world famous Wop Chop. Now this is a porkchop sandwich. Just the right amount of mustard, onions and pickles and big enough for two people looking to split a sandwich. (I could have eaten the whole thing). You have to love Butte, America. You can still call a sandwich a "Wop Chop" and no one gets offended. Not even the Wops.

"Are we there yet?" She wants to stand up so badly and take in the entire trip but her old legs just can't hold her up as long as they used to.

We decided to get off the interstate at Garrison and take the backroads into Columbia Falls. It was a pretty drive.

The Blackfoot River was pretty swollen at the time. Its come down a little bit but the Clark's Fork, which it feeds, is still close to flood stage.

I'm not sure which mountain range this is and don't really care. You see, back in the 19th century the western boundary of Montana was supposed to be the Continental Divide but the mapmakers got drunk and drew a crooked line that remained our permanent western boundary. Its the reason Idaho is only 13 miles wide at the top. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't really feel that I have to claim the western part of the state where all the liberal faggot hippies live just because a couple of guys couldn't hold their booze 130 years ago. I ain't gonna. Except for Butte and Anaconda. These mountains are pretty though.

Sloan is a traitor. I feed her. I pay all her bills and she latches onto Butte Girl like they've been lifelong best friends.

The Duke (aka MRM) in a Tigeresque fist pump after draining a 30 footer to save par. It was Sunday so I was wearing red and black just like Eldrick. I wasn't cussing and pouting as much as he does.

The result of going for the par 5 7th hole in two shots. I can't remember the last time I had a chance to reach a par 5 in 2 shots so I had to go for it. The result is, in golfers lingo, being "treefucked". Hmmmmmmmm. I see an 8 in my future. I think that shirt makes me look fat.

The daunting par 3 16th hole at the Meadow Lake Golf Club. If you don't clear the water you bring in 6 you bring in 7.

Almost a perfect setup at the top. Just a beautiful looking golf swing.

Eyeing my chip for birdie. Made a four and was happy as hell.

Our accomodations for the weekend. Meh, they'll do. I mean honestly. Could anyone reading this want to stay here? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Look at this place. Look at the glass atrium in the background. Its awesome!

From the outside. Again. I think we'll manage just fine.

Sloan checking the area for grizzly bears.

This is Flathead Lake. It is the largest natural fresh water lake west of the Mississippi. Just ask my sister. She knows that. It only cost her $20. TWENTY BUCKS LP!!!!! Nothing tastes better than free booze. "Yellowstone is bigger than Flathead" BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. As if.

I must have said something funny. I just can't help it. I'm a funny SOB.

Sloan checking out the view of the Flathead Valley.

The view coming into Polson. How would you like to wake up to this every morning? Those are the Mission Mountains in the background.

The Mission Mountains.

This is a quick photo of Missoula. The crummiest town in all of Montana. I'm not sure but I think Missoula is Flathead Indian for "shithole where people dont shave or bathe". The streets wander aimlessly. They change names mid-street. There is no rhyme or reason to its planning. Its home to the only Hooters in America where shaving your armpits if you work there is optional. Hippies, hippies everywhere. Its also home of the University of Montana and their predominantly overrated football team. Remember, you can't spell scum without the UM. If God was going to give Montana an enema, He'd put the tube in Missoula. But I digress.

The Pintler Mountains by Anaconda.

A view of uptown Butte and the Berkeley Pit. The pit is 1 1/2 miles wide and 1800 feet deep. It was at one time the largest open mine pit in the world.

A picture of a gallus frame by the Butte Girl's house. These were used to lower miners underground back in the old days. There are something like 12 of them still standing in Butte.

The Bridger Mountains and almost home. Won't be long now.

Well that's about it. Road Trip #4 is scheduled for this weekend when I head to Ft. Benton/Big Sandy for the Steamboat Classic. It's supposed to be cold and rainy. It could be the drizzle I've been looking for.

Island Belongings Part Three: Reading, Non-fiction

Meanwhile, back on the island. Well, we need more reading material. How about some non-fiction. No restrictions from your favorite list, just bring whatever you would like to have to read for the next year. The Bible is already provided by the island. Here are mine with my comments and then a synopsis provided for each book by Barnes and Noble and by Amazon. Enjoy.


Young men and fire by Norman MacLean.

You might know MacLean from A river runs through it. Here he tells the story of a tragedy that happen about 120 miles from where I live. I've actually camped about two miles from Mann Gulch and have been there when a horrible wind storm came in. Much like the one that cost these 12 men their lives. The graves overlook the Missouri. I can't imagine what it must have been like.
Synopsis
On August 5, 1949, a crew of fifteen of the United States Forest Service's elite airborne firefighters, the Smokejumpers, stepped into the sky above a remote forest fire in the Montana wilderness. Two hours after their jump, all but three of these men were dead or mortally burned. Haunted by these deaths for forty years, Norman Maclean puts back together the scattered pieces of the Mann Gulch tragedy.

The Greatest Game Ever Played by Mark Frost.

This is a good movie but and great book. Frost paints a great picture about this incredible tournament and how the event changed so many lives. If you play golf you will love it. If you don't play golf, you will love it.

Synopsis
Frost deftly tells the story behind the legendary 1913 U.S. Open, in which Francis Ouimet, a 20-year-old golf amateur from Massachusetts, shocked the genteel golf world by defeating British champion Harry Vardon, the most famous pro golfer of his time and the inventor of what today is still considered the modern grip and swing. Frost knows he has a good story and manages to touch on all the right elements of the plot: Ouimet and Vardon not only represent two different social worlds and two different generations, but also share a number of key personal facts and traits. Ouimet was "the boy-next-door amateur, young and modest and free from affectation," while Vardon was the consummate professional whose record of six British Open victories has never been matched. Yet Frost superbly shows how both shared a steely drive to succeed that helped Vardon overcome a long bout with tuberculosis and Ouimet to overcome a working-class background in which golf was seen (especially by his father) as a wealthy man's game, the perfect example of the evils of capitalism. Frost beautifully weaves history into his narrative, clearly showing the long-term impact this duel had on the game and how it helped propel the U.S. Open into the arena of world-class golf. Frost's final chapters on the last two rounds of the 1913 Open have all the page-turning excitement of a blockbuster novel.

Founding Brothers by Joseph J. Ellis

Ellis basically has 6 short stories about the most powerful men in the country at our founding. I found the story about the duel between Hamilton and Burr particularly fascinating. Oh how our country may have been different if not for that windy afternoon on the banks of the Hudson.

Synopsis
An illuminating study of the intertwined lives of the founders of the American republic -- John Adams, Aaron Burr, Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and George Washington.
During the 1790s, which Ellis calls the most decisive decade in our nation's history, the greatest statesmen of their generation -- and perhaps of any -- came together to define the new republic and direct its course for the coming centuries. Ellis focuses on six discrete moments that exemplify the most crucial issues facing the fragile new nation: Burr and Hamilton's deadly duel, and what may have really happened; Hamilton, Jefferson, and Madison's secret dinner, during which the seat of the permanent capital was determined in exchange for passage of Hamilton's financial plan; Franklin's petition to end the "peculiar institution" of slavery -- his last public act -- and Madison's efforts to quash it; Washington's precedent-setting Farewell Address, announcing his retirement from public office and offering his country some final advice; Adams's difficult term as Washington's successor and his alleged scheme to pass the presidency on to his son; and finally, Adams and Jefferson's renewed correspondence at the end of their lives, in which they compared their different views of the Revolution and its legacy.
In a lively and engaging narrative, Ellis recounts the sometimes collaborative, sometimes archly antagonistic interactions between these men, and shows us the private characters behind the public personas: Adams, the ever-combative iconoclast, whose closest political collaborator was his wife, Abigail; Burr, crafty, smooth, and one of the most despised public figures of his time; Hamilton, whose audacious manner and deep economic savvy masked his humble origins; Jefferson, renowned for his eloquence, but so reclusive and taciturn that he rarely spoke more than a few sentences in public; Madison, small, sickly, and paralyzingly shy, yet one of the most effective debaters of his generation; and the stiffly formal Washington, the ultimate realist, larger-than-life, and America's only truly indispensable figure.
Ellis argues that the checks and balances that permitted the infant American republic to endure were not primarily legal, constitutional, or institutional, but intensely personal, rooted in the dynamic interaction of leaders with quite different visions and values. Revisiting the old-fashioned idea that character matters, Founding Brothers informs our understanding of American politics -- then and now -- and gives us a new perspective on the unpredictable forces that shape history.

Vision of the Annointed by Thomas Sowell.

Sowell is one of my favorite political essayists. Most of his books are way to deep for me but this one is outstanding. If you didn't hate the liberal elite before you read this, you certainly will afterwards.

Synopsis
Sowell presents a devastating critique of the mind-set behind the failed social policies of the past thirty years. Sowell sees what has happened during that time not as a series of isolated mistakes but as a logical consequence of a tainted vision whose defects have led to crises in education, crime, and family dynamics, and to other social pathologies. In this book, he describes how elites—the anointed—have replaced facts and rational thinking with rhetorical assertions, thereby altering the course of our social policy.

Summer of '49 by David Halberstam

Halberstam is the best baseball writer ever. There is no debate. If you know even a little about baseball, you know that the Yankees/Red Sox rivalry is the greatest in sports and second place isn't even close. What a lot of people don't realize is that this rivalry is as old as professional sports in America. I'm no Yankee fan but I'm not a hater either. I will tell you that if the Sox don't pull off the comeback in 2004 (or the Yankees don't choke) I wouldn't see near as many ugly blue hats with faggot looking "B"s on them. "Oh, I've always been a Red Sox fan!" Kiss my ass you fucking liars!! Most Sox fans out here couldn't find Boston on a map. I hate all teams that Ralph roots for so my hatred for the Sox goes back a long way. Its why we're best friends. Hey we got our tattoos on the same day. Mine is of the Cincinnati Reds and his of the Boston whatever they are calleds. Left ankle in 2001. Anyway back to the book. Halberstam's weaves a great story about the best summer in baseball. Baseball fans won't put this one down.

Synopsis
The year was 1949, and a war-weary nation turned from the battlefields to the ball fields in search of new heroes. It was a summer that marked the beginning of a sports rivalry unequaled in the annals of athletic competition. The awesome New York Yankees and the indomitable Boston Red Sox were fighting for supremacy of baseball's American League, and an aging Joe DiMaggio and a brash, headstrong hitting phenomenon named Ted Williams led their respective teams in a classic pennant duel of almost mythic proportions—one that would be decided in an explosive head-to-head confrontation on the last day of the season.

That should be enough reading to get us by but a year is a long time for only ten books. What else could we do? Hmmmmmmm. I have an idea.

Beautification Phase One

Hello loyal readers. Yes, last week was a poor effort on my part but I promise to be back with a vengeance this week. Here's my story. I bought this little townhouse (1/2 duplex) on August 1, 2001. Per regs of the subdivision I planted the requisite patmore ash. It subsequently died the following year and since that time I've been without the required tree. Now, the owner's association sent me an annual letter stating that I was in violation and needed to plant a tree. Well, having a brown thumb I ignored said letters. I mean, what are they going to do to me? Take away my birthday?

This year with the help of a Butte Girl, I decided to give my little shack some curb appeal. I like the way this turned out and documented it with photos and mindless drivel. Its what I do.


Early Sunday morning. Still shade in the front yard. Notice the little gravel pile in the bottom left. Remnants of the last attempt.



A straight on photo. Plants in the background ready to begin their epic struggle under my care. The gravel pile is in the bottom right. Its like an ancient Indian burial ground. Where trees go to die.

The first hole has been dug and awaits the patmore. The battle for life is about to begin.

"In this corner, weighing in at approximately 200 pounds and hailing from Sweet Pea Nursery, Patmore "Swaying Gently" Ash. "

Oops, forgot to take the ribbon off the top. I'll get to that in the next few months.

Now for the gravel garden. I like the gravel garden because it took so little water and its so very hard to kill rocks. Butte Girl and my old dog Sloan are about to transform it into something magical.

This is some kind of bush I bought at Costco. I can't remember what its called but it looked cool and it was cheap.

The beginning of the flower bed. I copied the design from Ree, The Pioneer Woman. She has an incredible blog and makes me long for the ranch. Measure twice, cut once, blah, blah, blah. Sloan did all the measuring. Quite the talented dog.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!!!. I don't remember anyone saying it was break time.

That's much better. I'm not running a day camp here.

Sloan surveying the situation. Or maybe eyeing the neighbors yard. Old dogs get to do what they want at my house. They've earned it.

The box frame is up. Now, this didn't turn out quite to Ree's specs. I was getting pretty pissed. Butte Girl says "there's level and there's level enough". After much swearing and debating how far I could actually throw my screwgun I said "I can cover it up with some 1 x 8's and paint."

Will ya look at that! A flower box in front of my house. Live plants and everything. Petunia's, iris', some stuff I can't pronounce or spell. NeatO!

I frickin love the old truck/tractor seat I found at some antique mall in Gallatin Gateway. I know they had the price marked wrong. I just know it. 30 bucks?! I'm not a thief and I made them double check and they were sure so I loaded it up and away I went.

Notice the dead spots in the lawn. That's from my old dog. The heat brings them out as it was two weeks in between starting and finishing this project. It will be green again soon enough. A little raking, a little Kentucky Blue and things will really start to shine.

There ya go. It's amazing what a couple of plants and some white paint can do to dress the place up a little. I did buy tough to kill plants so we'll have to keep our fingers crossed. It will be harder to give directions to my place now. I can't say, "the first place with no tree in the yard is mine." However, I can say "drive til you see the flower box and tractor seat". That's not a bad deal.

Tuesday Tunes 6/2/9

OK, I've been a bit of a slacker on the ol' blog the last week. I'm going to try to make up for that. I have a road trip (#3) to post. I also did some minor landscaping at my little townhouse. I'm heading to Ft. Benton, home of Old Shep, to play golf with one of the greatest men on the planet, Skeets Nehemiah Leader. Yes, its already time for the Steamboat Classic Two Man Best Ball at the Signal Point Golf Course. Of course, I'll be bloging about that later next week.

So here's this week's playlist. A Butte Girl gave me the idea. She told me to find songs that are featured in commercials and so, being a man of few original ideas of his own, I gladly decided to do it.

For a nice list of songs used in commercials check out this link. I took everything from here for my playlist so thanks to them for their hard work. God, I frickin love the internet.

BTW, you know what I like about getting up on June 2 with an air temp of 45 degrees and a stiff north wind making it fell like 30 (OK 40)? Not a goddam thing!!!!



(Yes, this is the same picture perfect takeaway I will be using this weekend. Its textbook I tellya!)