Fish ON!!! A spring road trip!

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• Fish ON! The Belly River

• Bitterroot - Montana’s State Flower

• Where’s this picture?

• On Charley’s Mind - R.I.P. Ellen Baumler

• Coming Next Week

One Saturday morning in the early 1970s I pulled out of my place near Bigfork and headed east over the mountains. Planned destination was Babb, Montana, north of Browning near the Canada line. It was a warm mid-spring morning. I’d heard about a great fishing spot—the Belly River on the east side of Glacier Park. Spring fever. It was time for a road trip.

After spending most of the day in Glacier and driving over Going-to-the-Sun Road I decided to camp out in the parking lot of the old Babb Bar. My pickup topper was a bit Spartan as far as accommodations go, but made for a relatively cozy place to crash for the night. Not that I was noticing much though after spending the evening in the bar...

The next morning’s short drive to the Chief Mountain border crossing offered some of the best scenery in Montana. The route goes north from Babb on MT Highway 17 and winds around in the shadow of Chief Mountain. The Belly River trailhead starts there on the U.S. side of the border.

It’s a short three mile hike to the river, mostly downhill. The Belly is a bit unique in that it’s the southern-most tributary of the Saskatchewan River system—a drainage that eventually ends up in Hudson Bay. As the Belly exits the U.S. into Canada it’s pretty small—more of a creek.

One thing worthy of mention about this little fishing sojourn, and while looking back a rather common denominator in some of my early road trips: There hadn’t been a lot of what you’d call “advance planning.” Mostly, I’d forgotten to buy food the day before, and the gas station in Babb hadn’t opened yet that morning. Only a couple Pop-Tarts and a half-pint of vodka could be found in the jockey-box.

But what the heck. I parked and headed down the trail, flyrod in hand, and a box of flies and some leader in a hind pocket. I had the presence of mind to grab a book of matches before leaving the outfit. Of course I carried a jackknife.

The hike down to the river was uneventful although looking back it was grizzly country and it was mid-spring… But there weren’t as many grizzlies around in those days. Bear spray would probably be in order now.

I never saw another person until bumping into a Park ranger riding a saddlehorse later that morning. He (the ranger—not the horse) shared half a Snickers bar with me. He didn’t ask to see my fishing license—which could have caused a problem.

I’ve been skunked before—but not that day!

The fly fishing was incredible; probably the best this cowboy has ever experienced. Not big fish, but dang sure plenty of ‘em. Native cutthroats and stocked brook trout. The water was a bit high and riley, but not muddy. This probably helped wash some bugs around and down the stream and screened a person from the fish while ambling from hole to hole. It’s always handy to learn how to angle with nymphs as well as dry flies.

Sometime early afternoon I stumbled across an old campsite and scrounged up a wire grill which proved useful in cooking up a couple trout. That was before they invented catch-and-release fishing by the way. With rather acute hunger somewhat satisfied and my fishing lust abated for the day, I slogged my way up to the trailhead. It was time to head back over the mountains.

The weekend fading away, it was almost dark when I got to my trailer. After catching a few zzzzzs and wolfing down a biscuit and a cup of coffee in the morning, I headed to the plywood mill in Evergreen where I’d been punching-in for about a year.

That spring the crew was working doubles on the green chain—coupling dayshift and graveyard. Lot’s of overtime pay.

Boy, those were the days…

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Bitterroot (Lewisia rediviva) has been the state flower of Montana since 1895. This perennial herb will start blooming in a month or so, showing pink and in some places white flowers. Bitterroot is not easy to spot until it blooms, as the small, fleshy stems are rather innocuous and pop up quickly in the spring and wither to nothing in the fall.

While bitterroot ranges throughout most of Western North America, in Montana it’s most often found in the mountains and foothills in the central and western parts of the state. Low-growing on dry, usually south-facing gravely or talus slopes, it can be found spreading through otherwise bare ground.

Indigenous people collected the fleshy taproot of the plant and used it for food after peeling away the dry skin which is bitter to the taste. They often mixed it with meat and berries. There are some references to Indian tribes timing their migrations around periods when they could harvest the roots. And some say the Lemhi Shoshone believed that the upper parts of the root could stave off bear attacks.

In July 1806 Meriweather Lewis collected bitterroot plants at Traveler’s Rest in what’s now the Bitterroot Valley of western Montana.

Lewis eventually gave his bitterroot specimens to Frederick Pursh a botanist at the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia. Pursh named the previously-undocumented species Lewisii for Lewis, and rediviva from the Latin meaning “reviving”—after he found the plant had started growing in the museum following months of transportation and dry storage.

I’d be willing to bet most Montanan’s have never seen a bitterroot plant! My favorite place to find our state flower is in the southern foothills of the Little Belt Mountains in central Montana. I hope you can venture out and claim your own favorite stand of bitterroot! Send me a photo!

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What’s the name of this lake? You can see the answer in next week’s post. Message [email protected] with your guess!

Last week’s photo is an easy one if you’ve ever been to Glacier National Park. The bed of Lake McDonald helps make it one of the most picturesque bodies of waters in Montana (ok ok ok —technically Glacier Park is not Montana...). The lake reaches 445 feet—making Lake McDonald one of the deepest in the Rocky Mountains.

The colorful rocks come from the varying amounts of iron contained in the rock formations of the surrounding mountains that have eroded over the eons forming the lakebed.

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Remembering Montana’s first Interpretive Historian at the Montana Historical Society.

Ellen Baumler passed away in Helena last December at age 74. Ellen was one of the most prolific and entertaining historians with whom I’ve crossed paths. I first became acquainted with Ellen after hearing her 90-second vignettes on local radio. The audio series were excerpts from her book “Montana Moments—History on the Go”—a collection of classic stories telling the state’s history from borders to borders.

Ellen allowed Montana history to tell itself—to a degree she was just the messenger. But as a messenger Ellen was pure joy and genius. She was an impeccable researcher who could ferret out the most intriguing tidbits and distill them into easy-on-the-palate historical morsels. She was for all senses a poet.

The legacy of Ellen Baumler lives in her collection of almost a dozen books that are still available in book stores and online. My favorites are her books on Montana’s ghosts and haunted places.

Thanks Ellen!

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1. Glacial Lake Missoula—This Land Long Ago

2.  Where’s This Picture?—This will be regular content in these posts and on montanacharley.com.

3. Book Sharing—Every so often you’ll find a review of a book about Montana.

4. On Charley’s Mind—Of course Charley always has opinion, analysis, commentary, or random things on his mind.

   On Deck—A feature detailing a study to re-establish the former North Coast Hiawatha passenger rail line through southern Montana.

   In the Works—A feature about Montana’s public lands and surrounding access issues.