Posted by: this montana life | September 17, 2012

Floating the White Cliffs of the Upper Missouri River Breaks

Floating the White Cliffs of the Upper Missouri River Breaks

Floating the Mighty Missouri for days on end in a small canoe is beyond description. But throw in that portion of the river better known as The Breaks and you have an experience to savor. Floating this small part of our world almost untouched is mind blowing. The Breaks are so remote–perhaps because of its remoteness this land defies mankind and its so-called civilization. Choosing to do this float was definitely the right decision.

BLM boaters' guide Coal Banks to Judith Landing

Once the decision was made, the thought of preparing for and actually doing a four day float was daunting to say the least.  Unknowns can sink an idea such as this within minutes. How dangerous is it? Are there rapids? Is there potable water? Where do we camp? Thankfully the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) sells Boaters’ Guides to answer these exact questions. We wanted to float the White Cliffs section of The Breaks so Embee trotted down to our local BLM office and purchased the Fort Benton to Judith Landing Guide for a mere purchase price of $4.00. Worth its weight in gold it is printed on waterproof paper and lays out in great detail what you need to do to prepare and what is available along the river—mile by mile.
I have boo-koos of experience packing the essentials for a trailer camping trip and I pack thoroughly knowing that we are well prepared; however, preparing for a remote float out of a small tippy boat pounded my little brain endlessly for days. Thinking deeply about upcoming events helps to serve a major purpose—procrastination. It wasn’t until the day before the float that the menu started to come together and therefore what food cooking equipment I needed to take.

The previous week we camped at the campground at Judith Landing, a major take-out point for floaters. I took this opportunity to “survey” floaters that came off the river as to what their menu looked like. It varied from all canned goods (chili, sauerkraut, and R&R whiskey) to gourmet meals such as Mediterranean Chicken, fresh green beans, cous cous, and a box of wine. I decided to go the gourmet way and packed fresh foods with the idea of one-pot meals in mind. Because of the small space available in the canoe the portable BBQ grill was left at home and I took only the two-burner camp stove. Luxury! And definitely the right decision.

After only 1 hour of loading the car we took off from Great Falls at 10 am driving two cars to make our own shuttle. An hour and a half of driving took us to Big Sandy, home of our fabulous Senator, Jon Tester (!!), and then we took Highway 236 east to the Missouri River. After another 44 miles, 27 of which is dirt road, we dropped off one car at the take out place, Judith Landing, river mile 88.5. Then, retracing our steps in the loaded-for-bear car topped with a red Coleman canoe we pointed our way to Coal Banks Landing, river mile 41.5. Thankfully once we got back to Big Sandy this was a pretty short drive that included only 6 miles on a gravel road.

Registering with the BLM staff is a safety must so they know to start looking for you if you don’t show up at your intended take out spot. Thanks, Aaron, for helping us out and making sure we were prepared!

Putting in

It was close to 2:30 pm by the time we actually pushed off from shore and headed downstream on the Mighty Missouri. We only went about 10.5 river miles that day—just enough to poke our nose into the Wild Classification portion of the river at river mile 52. A very small sandy island beckoned us to make our first night’s camp. We knew this would be the coldest night of the trip and hunkered down to stay warm. Having a campfire was out of the question since a Stage 1 fire restriction was in place and fires were allowed only in metal fire rings. We were as far away from a metal fire ring and civilization as possible. Our one-pot dinner on the camp stove consisted of warmed up goulash and some nice crusty bread. Desert was no-bake cocoa cookies from a zip-lock baggie. Red wine topped off the banquet quite nicely.

We tucked ourselves into our tent just after dusk as it was getting quite cold. Wearing our long johns and fleece hats we settled in for a little reading and a lot of slumber. Well, we had slumber in mind but the local beavers decided we were in their territory (which we were) and started slapping the water around our tent furiously. I swear one even waddled up on the island and started whacking the tent sides with his paddle of a tail. About the time the beavers accepted our presence the coyotes started in. We heard two distinct packs as they serenaded us to sleep.

Tent on a small island in the Upper Missouri River Breaks

First night’s camp

White Cliffs

The view downstream and the beginning of the White Cliffs

Shadows on the White Cliffs

Cottonwood shadows from the opposite river bank at sunset

Morning broke and we waited impatiently for the sun to rise above the impressive white cliff to our east. Once the sun arrived and warmed us up a bit it was time to hit the river again. We floated past many named rock formations such as Burnt Butte, the Grand Natural Wall, Citadel Rock, and Hole in the Wall, as well as a few BLM developed camp sites.

The Grand Natural Wall of the White Cliffs

The Grand Natural Wall of the White Cliffs

Hole in the Wall--White Cliffs of the Missouri River

Hole in the Wall–White Cliffs of the Missouri River

I have to say that the BLM has done an outstanding job setting up low impact camping opportunities for floaters. You can choose from a higher density campground that can accommodate up to 10 parties and offers two vault toilets, or lesser developed sites that accommodate fewer parties and have really gross pit toilets. Or hit the banks on public land and make your own campsite. There is a pack it in, pack it out rule and carrying your garbage out is required and no big burden. But, let there be a warning that you are required to pack EVERYTHING out—including solid human waste. It’s a good thing you can buy potty bags and you just “go” in a bag and it becomes real solid waste. Our local outdoor specialist, Keith, jokes that he just pokes two holes for his legs and wears the bag the whole time he is canoeing. Ha!

The Grand Natural Wall in The Breaks

The Grand Natural Wall in The Breaks

Citadel Rock from upstream

Looking back at Citadel Rock

We spent night two in a very undeveloped campsite at about river mile 71.3, directly across the river from a Lewis and Clark campsite of May 30, 1805. What a feeling to be exploring the same river as the most famous of American explorers!  But we had it easy since we were floating DOWN the river and they lugged all their cargo up the river against the flow. We unloaded the canoe and set up camp adjacent a serene cottonwood and green ash tree grove. Embee took this opportunity to take a dip in the river and wash off a bit.

Man walking down to the river to take a bath

Embee in his birthday suit ready for bath time

I took to setting up the kitchen and getting a meal going. Dinner consisted of a Dijon and mushroom chicken sauté with potato cubes and fresh buttered peas (yes, Mamma and Daddy, I now eat peas!).


For two night’s running the coyotes sang us to sleep. One lone coyote sounded like he was about 20 feet away and his howl put a unique chill in my bones. But my corresponding return hooooowwwwllll sent him on his way leaving the night scene open to the owls and their hoots and woots. Their calls sounded a lot more serene and less urgent than the packs of coyotes and lulled us to sleep.

Gold-eye caught on the Missouri

Embee valiantly fished and caught a few gold-eyes. None big enough to keep and cook.

Seven Sisters Rock Formation the White Cliffs

Seven Sisters Rock Formation the White Cliffs

We count up the miles and only have about 17 miles left to travel. Neither of us is ready for this float to be over so we slow down the pace a little bit. Nap time arrives around 1:30 and we pull in to one of the developed camp sites called Slaughter River and unload the cooler and our sleeping pads. Napping under the cottonwood trees was an ideal way to spend the afternoon.

We were awakened by the sound of oars breaking the water and were visited by two of the most pleasant BLM employees in the world. Nikki and Sean are seasonal employees of the BLM stationed out of Fort Benton and were on a 6-day river ferry patrol ending at Kip Landing in the Charles M. Russell National Wildlife Refuge. Their main job that day was to check the campsites for trash, restock the vault toilets with paper, and paint the inside of one of them. Their energy and bright outlooks speak well for the future of the BLM. They pointed us to a fabulous campsite downstream called The Wall and tipped us off to look for a prairie dog town just up the hill from the campsite.


Back on the water we saw a small moving object ahead. It was moving too quickly to be a beaver and we soon recognized it for what it is. A rattlesnake swimming across the river! I kid you not! Embee got a couple of good photos and I was able to come out of my hyperventilation long enough to get a quick video of it. The video is a one-handed effort since the other hand was holding a paddle ready to bash it in the head if it tried to crawl into the canoe.

So there we were—floating with the river current eyeballing this deadly snake which was also floating with the current. And swimming toward us. Uh….I decided I would take coyotes and beavers over this snake any day. Maybe even a grizzly bear.

Rattlesnake swimming in the river

Rattlesnake swimming in the river

So the snake finally decided to move along toward the shore and we continued post-adrenalin phase to pull in to The Wall campsite at river mile 81.3.  Logistically this spot was the best as it had a nice flat driftwood plank set up on some downed logs which performed as a low low table to set up kitchen. After getting camp all set up we hiked up the short hill to watch the prairie dogs. Man were they entertaining! There was a town about 5 acres across and a few holes outside that area. I dubbed that “the burbs.” As we watched the colony a lone badger lumbered down from the hills and sniffed around many of the holes. You never saw animals scurry down into the ground so fast! But a lot of the prairie dogs stayed outside their holes and watched their predator from a distance calling out their warning cry to others. I was rooting for the prairie dogs and hope that the badger went home with an empty stomach.


The entire river corridor was infested with one invasive species I could have lived without. Cows. Bovines. Beef–it’s what’s for dinner. They were everywhere! Especially around the developed campsites. No matter how many fences were up it seemed that they found a way around them. Embee and I started to joke that when we smelled cow crap we knew there was a campground coming up. Herds of cows would be lying under the cottonwood trees bellering loudly. Or they would be down at the river drinking. And if you couldn’t see them, you could see and smell their cow patties left behind.   The only saving grace is that they don’t use toilet paper so it seemed a little bit more natural. I had to get into the mindset that back in the day it would have been bison roaming the breaks leaving round, flat, steaming presents. Somehow that assuages my annoyance just a *little* bit.


Again we were lulled to sleep by the coyotes and owls. Morning brought the realization that our float was almost at an end.  Using up the last of the perishables I made a one-pot omelette with fried potato rounds and scrambled eggs topped with tomato slices seasoned with Italian herbs. Capped off with a rich mocha to sip and contemplate the universe. I don’t think we lost any weight on this sojourn but we sure did gain a new perspective on Montana and its greatness.
Sadly we loaded up the canoe for the last time and floated the remaining 7 miles to the Judith Landing for our take out. Fifteen minutes of loading up the car with our gear and canoe and we were headed back home with fine memories of the Upper Missouri River Breaks National Monument. Thank you William Jefferson Clinton for setting aside this national treasure for all to enjoy. Well, at least for those brave enough to face whatever the wild and scenic river is willing to dish up.

Take out at the Judith Landing

Take out at the Judith Landing

Campground at Judith Landing

BLM campground at Judith Landing. Way busier than we saw it last week.

Here is a list of our cargo:

Canoe and 3 paddles (1 extra in case one floated away)
2 lifejackets
2 flat folding lawn chairs
1 tent
1 blue poly tarp
2 sleeping pads
2 sleeping bags
2 pillows
1 fleece blanket
1 2-burner camp stove
1 green bottle of propane (could have used two)
1 butane clicker/lighter
3 boxes of matches
6 gallons of water
2 cameras
Books (Sea Wolf by Jack London and Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner)
2 LED lights
1 mess kit and assorted utensils
2 cups, 2 bowls, 1 knife, and 2 spoons
1 small lightweight cutting board with paring knife
Dish cloth, dish soap, and hot pad
Dry shoes for camp
Personal gear (clothes, toothbrush, etc.)
2 wash cloths and 1 towel
2 potty bags
Duct tape and rope (hhmmmm sounds like trouble to me)
First aid kit
Cooler full of fresh food and 4 beers
1 plastic pint of Canadian Club (had to stay warm at first night!)
1 BLM Upper Missouri River Breaks National Monument Boaters’ Guide (Fort Benton to Judith Landing)
2 old, but adventurous spirits

Posted by: this montana life | August 26, 2012

I Blame it on Sandra

Blame it on Sandra

When asked to explain how it is I got into trailers I immediately blame it on my lovely friend, Sandra. She is one of the most free-spirited people I have ever met and a delightful person to boot. I met Sandra at the same time I met her Scamp and fell instantly in love with both.

Sandra standing in front of her Scamp

My friend, Sandra, in front of her Scamp as she left me bereft this morning

Sandra lives in Oregon and is as quick with a joke as she is with a smile. She is also the perfect Scamp owner. It is filled with treasures she has picked up at junk stores and estate sales from all along her journey. When she travels to Montana from Oregon she takes the lesser-traveled roads and hits every second-hand store she can find. Then she disperses these treasures in every nook and cranny her little Scamp presents. (What’s left over she generously shares with me!) Vintage Native American blankets cover her couch, antique glassware is her dinnerware, and vintage bed coverings and table linens delight your eye wherever you look. Spider plants are shoved into the small space between her front window and lounge. Her little closet is even full of the most fabulous vintage clothing she has tucked away.

After meeting Sandra I couldn’t help but see myself towing a little trailer around the country seeking my own adventure on the back roads. My quest for the perfect trailer started that week.

I drove from Spokane, Washington to Boise, Idaho to look at a 1967 Bell Trailer. It was too big. The next day I backtracked and drove back north to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho to look at a 1959 unknown manufacturer Canned Ham. It was too derelict. I came home broken-hearted but remained diligent in my search. One week later I drove to Idaho Falls, Idaho and found my 1964 Jet which was eventually named Rocky.

Decorating these little gems is almost as much fun as driving around discovering new places. Sandra sure has that down. I can only hope that someday my decorating expertise will reach the same level as hers. Just a coupl’a (hundred)  more junks stores and I’ll be there.

Posted by: this montana life | August 26, 2012

Rock City, USA (Valier, Montana that is)

Rock City, Valier, Montana

Daytripping in Montana can mean many different things to many people. Back in the 60’s it might have meant dropping some illicit drug and zoning out for the duration. But on a perfect day for us it meant driving 90 miles north to Valier to visit a little-known geographic oddity called Rock City. Even third or fourth generation Montanans have no knowledge of this tucked-away treasure just minutes off the seldom-traveled Interstate 15.

We filled up the picnic basket with fresh blueberries, creamy Gouda cheese, and Flathead cherries. Then loaded up the car with two of our most magical friends, Craig and Sandra. Embee had visited this magical place many times before, but this was a first for Craig, Sandra, and me. The road to Rock City is, appropriately named, Rock City Road. You just get on this road and drive straight north. Even when the road starts to bend west, just keep staying north. You will travel through agriculture fields and the road will get way less travelled…and more bumpy and narrow. Just keep going. You’ll know when you get there.

An expansive field of hoodoos will greet you as these rock formations majestically make your eyes go agog and your jaw drop at their beauty. You can walk around, over, through, and between these unique stacked towers. At one point during my rambling in the natural maze it felt like I was walking the narrow streets of Paris with tall buildings lining up on each side. I felt lost and alone—but in a very good way.

The adventurous ones can follow the faint trail down to the Two Medicine River just downstream from where Birch Creek joins in. If it hadn’t been a coolish-windy day we would have taken advantage of a sweet little swimming hole with a nice sandy beach. There were footprints of many other adventurers—but of a more natural nature. Raccoons and deer must frequent the small river valley and drink in the sweet cool water where we drank in the serenity of Mother Nature.

Our drive back to the center of Valier took us past our favorite ghost sign on the side of a building.

Embee and Craig standing under Gilboe the Clothier Ghost Sign

Ghost Sign on building in Valier, Montana

Although the business is long defunct you can’t help but wonder what type of a man Gilboe was and where he came from.
No visit to Valier, Montana is complete without a stop at the Panther Café. Just pop in for a Huckleberry ice cream cone, a burger and fries, or truly Broasted chicken. The owners and their daughters are delightful and will put a smile on your face as you walk away with a very happy tummy.

Picture of eating counter at Panther Cafe in Valier

Belly up to the eating bar at the Panther Cafe

Rock City will have to remain a secret for my readers since my camera chose to flake out on me while taking the pictures.

Broken camera photos of Hoodoos at Rock City

One hoodoo at Rock City

This photo would have been stunning if my camera had cooperated!

Photo of hoodoos at Rock City, Valier, Montana

The sky was putting on an awesome show….too bad you can’t see it

But if you use your imagination to fill in where the shutter shuts you out, you may find yourself sitting on top of one of the tremendous hoodoos contemplating your navel. Or if you’re lucky, someone else’s.

Posted by: this montana life | June 24, 2012

Floating the Sun

First camping trip of the season. Hard to believe it took until the end of June to do it. But, it was well worth the wait!

On a spur-of-the-moment decision we took a break from restoring a 50-year old Shasta and hit the highway. We must be getting good at packing because it was only an hour of preparation and we were ready. With the kayaks on top of the Trailblazer we headed toward the Sun River for an afternoon float and a night under the stars. Well, inside the Burro under the stars.

The lazy float down the Sun was the perfect start to a well-deserved day and night off from hammering and sewing.  We unhitched the Burro and left him at the Lowry Bridge River Access and Recreation site. This little-known, free BLM campground is the perfect spot to launch our kayaks and then return back to cold beers on ice in the cooler.

BLM Campground sign

Lowry Bridge Campground

Floating the Sun River is an easy and lazy float. One only needs to occasionally dip a paddle in to correct direction as you take in the incredible scenery.

Picture of two kayaks with life jackets

Let the float begin

Kayak on the Sun River

The rocky shores of the Sun River

Last year’s flooding completely changed the character and meander of the river. So this year is like learning how to dance with a new lover. Just when you think you should zig left, you find she wants you to zag right.

Fort Shaw Butte in the distance

Fort Shaw Butte in the distance

Embee and I love to explore the little side channels and small back water flows. Many times the river current points you in the right direction. All you need to do is open your mind for a possible wading or swimming opportunity. We found such a spot. Nice and warm(er) water with a good rocky bottom. Embee immediately plopped into the somewhat chilly waters and began to flounder like a—well—a flounder. My technique is a bit different. I waded over to the shallower waters, where it was much warmer, and laid down on my belly. My natural “floatation devices” let me float  while walking on my hands. This was the perfect perspective to view little water bugs, bubbles, and insects with the added bonus of only getting half wet!

Once we sated our swimming lust we completed the float. Our usual take out spot is the bridge at Simms. “Our” shuttle back to the campground is pedal-powered by Embee and his bike. I get the challenging job of sitting in the shade by the river protecting the kayaks and waiting for him to ride the four and a half miles back to the campground and return with the car. It’s a very tough job but someone has to do it.

I am entertained by two young teen-aged boys playing on the opposite bank skipping rocks into the river. They decide to swim the channel to the small rocky island for an unlimited arsenal of skipping stones. What fun it was to watch two young men laughing and playing under the Big Sky. If only us grown-ups could capture some of that youth every day.

Embee *finally* arrives to load up the gear and we head back to our leetle Burro. The sky in all its Montana infiniteness puts on an amazing show. I really can’t pull the words from my brain to describe the awesomeness of the display. You’ll have to see the pictures posted here and make up words of your own.

 

 

 

 

 

The next day dawns and we decided to do it all again. The second trip is spent dawdling even longer and collecting some very fine specimens of willow roots for assorted art projects. It’s a good thing our kayaks only hold so much or we would have brought home a ton of this stuff!!

I am writing this post as I perform the exhausting chore of sitting in the shade by the river (again). This time I hear a rooster crowing loudly. I guess he’s making sure I don’t fall asleep on the job.

Good night Gracie.

Posted by: this montana life | March 28, 2012

Snow Birds and Other Flights of Fancy

Snow Birds and Other Flights of Fancy

We have traveled around Arizona looking for the perfect weather and the perfect campsite—over 4,000 miles worth so far from our doorstep to the south. Sometimes it feels like we have driven a spiral of roads leading us to nowhere.

After weeks of searching and feeling dissatisfied almost every turn of the way my mind turned inward to the philosophy of camping. And I’m not talking about the philosophy of the physical part of camping. I want to talk about the types of people we have met on this trip and their reasons for being out under the blue sky of Arizona. We have met people from many parts of this world. And each is camping for a different reason.

We have met people that call themselves “full-timers” and they have given up their personal property by selling their homes and hitting the road in their vehicles. We have met people that are “homeless” living out of their cars in search for a new life or a new job—or both. We have met people that are rich beyond means and just playing cowboy in the Arizona desert (riding their four-wheelers around the campground to keep their shiny boots from getting scuffed up). We have met people from Europe who are seeing the U.S.A. in their Chevrolet. Just a few stories follow.

Meet Myra. She left her home in the Midwest with just her car and a bag of clothes. We didn’t get much of her story but she was living out of her car until someone gave her a tent. She was tucked, unbeknownst to us, into the junipers just a few yards from where we parked our trailer. She is looking for a new life and has found freedom. She bought a cello at a garage sale in Arkansas, adopted a wandering dog and called him Banjo, and is making just enough money to buy food and ice from playing her cello in the desert. She found a huge flat red rock and plays there daily. The tourists that fly by in their jeeps on the road see her, stop and listen to her, and throw her tips. I wanted to adopt her and take her under my wing. But she’s doing fine without a surrogate mamma.

Then there is Bill and Evonne. A lovely couple from California. He is a disabled vet from the Vietnam war and she is a self-professed old hippie. They are full-timers, sold their house five years ago and live in their motorcoach. They spend time visiting their kids and grandkids (otherwise known as “shrimps” if you listen to Bill).

My favorite person so far has been Ray. He owns a gift shop in Gila Bend—just miles from the Mexico border. Visit his shop. Cactus-n-Stuff. You can buy Mexican pottery, Mexican arts and crafts items, and little knick knacks that will remind you of the southwest. He told us a story of finding a rock. Well, it was more of a 200 pound skull-shaped rock with a row of teeth. He was kind enough to let me take a picture of him and his rock. Thanks Ray!

Ray at Cactuc-n-Stuff and his $3,500 rock. It's for sale if you want it!

And then there was the sweet and dry-witted shop owner that snuck me a few sips of Mexican Moonshine Tequila. Talk about smooth and smokey. Oh my! If only I could find some of that white fire north of the border.

The southwest has a way of sneaking its spines into your heart. And then it’s too late to deny that you’ve lost your soul to the red rock country, to the brown desert, to the desert creeks that snake through the desert and bring life to everything that gets in its way.

Posted by: this montana life | March 13, 2012

Windy and Cold Indian Point

Windy and Cold Indian Point

Neither one of us wanted to repeat our Coyote Ugly Camping experience so we started looking for a place to camp earlier the next day. We were at a bit of a disadvantage since our Delorme Gazeteer couldn’t keep up with the little dirt roads that criss cross over the creek feeding the Roosevelt Lake. We were thrilled to find a sweet campground on the northern tip of the Lake called Indian Point. Archie had to wade across the creek on his way to the campground.

Wading Tonto Creek

Wading Tonto Creek

We had just settled in for the night and got our hamburgers grilled when we had a visit from a couple of good ol’ boys from Punkin Center (yep–couldn’t get quite far enough away). They were cruising around in their three-tone pickup truck looking for snakes to shoot. (I kid you not.) I secretly named them Drunk Guy and Big Guy.  They decided we could be their entertainment and proceeded to fill us in on all the local happenings. Like apologizing for the cold and windy weather. And letting us know the best food in town was at the Punkin Center Café (might I had here that it is the ONLY food in town). And like how when Big Guy ran away from home at 14 he got a job picking cherries on Flathead Lake and gee he really missed Montana but not the weather but hell it was colder in Arizona now than on Flathead Lake–*spit, chuckle, spit again*.

After our evening entertainment went off in search for snakes we settled in and enjoyed our time there. The highlight of this stop, for me, was the Arizona State University archaeology study site for an indigenous people they called the Salado Indians. Flat dirt pyramid mounds have been studied and are preserved near the campground. Pottery shards as well as tools and weapons were found during excavations during recent drought (due to low lake levels). When the lake was formed via dam in 1903 the government wasn’t very interested in preserving our indigenous people’s stories. Now they are and it is a delight to see the study taking place. I walked along the ruins and tried to imagine how they cooked, where they did their laundry and washed their hair, and how their social hierarchy worked.

It’s fun to escape every once in a while to a simpler time.

Posted by: this montana life | March 13, 2012

Coyote Ugly Camping

Posted by: this montana life | March 6, 2012

Headin’ South–to Arizona That Is!

Headin’ South–to Arizona That Is!

One week on the road and I’m having a hard time getting inspired enough to write about the trip down south. We left Montana last Saturday and spent the first night in snowy, blowy Willard Bay State Park just north of Ogden.

We knew the first night was just a “get it out of the way” kind of night.

Willard Bay, utah

Brrrr-first night in North Willard Bay State Park, just north of Ogden, Utah.

You can’t get to warmth in one day from Montana in the winter.

We knew this from last year’s trip. What we didn’t count on was it taking ONE WEEK to find warm weather. Yep, ONE WEEK. We tried to outrun the cold and biting wind. We tried moving west.

Campsite at Red Cliffs Preserve, north of Saint George, UT

Campsite at Red Cliffs Preserve, north of Saint George, UT

Camp spot from high up--a bit of a scramble but worth it!

Camp spot from high up--a bit of a scramble but worth it!

We tried moving south.

Camping on the Mohave Desert

Camping on the Mohave Desert

We even tried moving east.

Valley of Fire Utah State Park

Valley of Fire Utah State Park

Fascinating Rock Formations

Fascinating Rock Formations. This one I call "Baxter" in honor of my friend's amazing dog.

Mountain Sheep in Valley of Fire State Park, Utah

Mountain Sheep in Valley of Fire State Park, Utah

The wind followed us everywhere we went. But we pig-heartedly refused to travel north.

Seven days later we arrive in Sedona and find the sun, and the heat—but not the wind. Who would have thunk it would take that long? I really shouldn’t be complaining as loudly as I am. We did have about an hour of shorts-weather in Red Cliffs Preserve north of Saint George. Just long enough to get out the gin and tonics to toast the summer. But….that was not nearly as long lasting as we wanted. The forecast was for snow the next few days so we headed down to the Mohave Desert and flattened ourselves down in a sweet little canyon trying to avoid the wind. Hmmmm. Canyon. Wind. Whistling Wind. Rattle the trailer off its stabilizing jacks kind of wind. Whooeee. Two nights of that—albeit nice and secluded camping—we headed southeast to the Valley of Fire State Park.

Gorgeous scenery. Wonderful rock formations. Home of the famous Elephant Rock (of which I failed to take a picture!)

But I did get quite a few pictures of dinosaur tracks just steps away from our campsite in the Red Cliffs Preserve. I will only bore you with one:

Donosaur Track - Red Cliffs Preserve

Well, off we go hitting the road again. We have no destination in mind…just following the good weather. And since a snow storm is due in Sedona tonight it is time to head out. Adios–for now.

Posted by: this montana life | January 8, 2012

Meet Winnie-1962 Shasta 16 SC

Winnie-born in 1962

1962 Shasta 16 SC

WARNING: Owning a vintage Shasta trailer can lead to an addiction. There is just something about a Shasta that says “AHhhhhh. More, please.” Some members of the Vintage Shasta Trailer Forum say we Shasta owners could be called a cult. While it’s very hard to admit I’m a member of a cult—it may be true.  After we sold our compact, Gina I caught myself (daily) skimming the Craigslist ads, over a three-state area, looking for old Shastas. I even thought I had found the perfect replacement for Gina and drove from Great Falls, Montana to Pocatella, Idaho—a 12-hour round trip–all ready to purchase and bring home a 1969 Shasta. That trip was a total bust since the trailer was in the roughest shape I’d ever seen—complete with a metal plate welded onto the wheel well to keep the floor from dropping to the ground.

I was disillusioned for about a week and kept my eyes averted from all trailer ads. The withdrawals were horrific and lasted for days. After a week’s recovery period my innate need for the hunt returned and I commenced the Shasta search. Imagine my pleasant surprise to find one within 3 hours of home. In a town where we have relatives and friends! Our niece and nephew-in-law lived within 1 mile of the target trailer. They jumped at the chance to be a part of the experience and undertook the job of checking over the trailer. They gave it the “go ahead it has potential” sign.  The timing was perfect as it was New Year’s Day weekend and we could combine two pleasurable experiences. Visiting fabulous people AND checking out a vintage trailer.

1962 Shasta 16 SC

We arrived in Bozeman, traveling on snow- and ice-covered roads, with plenty of daylight to check out the 1962 Shasta 16SC.  Embee and nephew-in-law crawled under the trailer to check out the belly and I checked out the interior. The trailer passed muster as far as restoration potential, but Embee was still tepid about buying it. I am a firm believer in Fate and so I suggested that we back up our Trailblazer and plug it in. If the trailer tail lights worked, we should buy it. If the lights didn’t work—then the trailer wasn’t for us. The lights worked!! So since we were all backed up and plugged in it was a small job to hook her up and head out. In the snow and ice.

The new trailer is now stowed securely next to our garage and is awaiting our TLC. Some of the work can be done in the driveway, but some of the work will require a shop or garage for the tear down. Now our search is for a smallish shop to rent for a few months to bring this lovely piece of USA’s history back to her former glory.

Floor Plan

Details on her are as follows:

  • Original paint job was white on top, white on bottom, with a bare aluminum stripe down the middle. Some previous owner painted the bottom a sort of poo-brown (hence the name, “Winnie”).
  • She has the original flooring/linoleum and it is in great shape.
  • Some of her cushions have the original upholstery fabric but it is really butt-ugly.
  • She has leaked in the past so we know there will be rot to replace and a few interior birch panels to replace. The entire inside will need to be sanded and re-shellacked.
  • She needs her round tail lights replaced since the previous owner removed them and put square ones on.
  • She needs wings. Her original ones are missing.
  • She will need all windows and j-channel to be removed and resealed.
  • She needs a new ice-box.
  • Her stove/oven needs checking out and certification.
  • Her little toilet needs repair/replacement or removal.
  • This list could go on and on and on—but those are the major items to start with!

Kitchen

Back bedroom

Back couch that opens up to double bed

Toilet in back

Small small mini toilet in even smaller closet!

Front couch/dinette

Front couch with fold-down tables. Opens into small double bed.

Sink

Double faucet. Does this mean there should be hot water?

I am so excited to have another Shasta on which to work! Deciding what theme to decorate will be a hard choice. I’m vacillating between Montana Fishing Lodge or U of M Griz décor. This would make a fabulous tail-gating trailer for the Griz football games.

Stay tuned for updates as the restoration process begins!

Shasta emblem

Posted by: this montana life | January 8, 2012

Camping at Wally World (for a bad night’s sleep)

Camping at Wally World (for a bad night’s sleep)

It’s been quite a while since I’ve put up a post here. Main reason—it’s winter in Montana! However, that said, I do have to admit that the Burro has made two pretty major trips in the cold weather. Embee took Archie to the coast and visited friends and family in Portland and Eugene, Oregon. And I dragged Archie through snow and ice over three mountain passes to visit my daughter in Spokane. While in Spokane I decided to try a new type of camping—in the Walmart parking lot. Hrmph. I really would not recommend this as a preferred camp spot. Sure, it was convenient…..and easy to level out the trailer. But…..quite noisy!! I am amazed at how late people shop at Walmart. And how loud they talk at o’dark thirty in the morning. And how bright those over-head parking lot lights are. And how low-minded people like to peel out and slide around the parking lot with their souped up cars. Oh well, live and learn, right? At least it was marginally better than sleeping on the couch in my daughter’s student housing apartment, maybe.

I think.

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