A Man Spoke Tonight

A man spoke tonight about darkness.  He spoke of ancient creatures that chew on trees.  He spoke of crystalline-fragile ecosystems, and the waters that move and change.

He spoke of people who damage these waters and change the crystalline ecosystems.  He spoke of being a rancher’s son, a transient’s best friend, and of being a janitor.  He spoke of the dark waters and deep black skies that calm a troubled mind and that soothe a frantic soul.

He spoke in a front of a crowded room, full of people who disagreed with him.  He spoke as the sole voice of dissent for a burgeoning civic project to light our city’s bridges.

I cried when he spoke.  And the tears took me by surprise.

It wasn’t the bridge lighting project that sparked my emotion.  Nor was it simply the man’s poetic words that catalyzed salty tears.

Rather, it was his brave act of speaking out that prompted my emotional response.  It was the fact that he launched a different and heartfelt perspective into a sea of sameness.  It was the fact that I am fortunate enough to live in a city, a state, a nation that lets him speak out…and even encouraged it. It was the fact that a roomful of dissenters respectfully allowed him to speak freely, and asked for his opinion even when they knew it was uncomfortably different.

Thank you, Americans, Montanans, Missoulians, friends, for listening to others.  Thank you for welcoming stories of darkness, even as you seek the light.

And thank you to the man who spoke tonight, for reminding us that some people crave the solace of dark or troubled waters, and we might never fully understand why.

Me + 2 Hot Mamas in San Fran = 3 Barbies in a Boat

Two things I’ll miss when we sail into the sunset — girlfriends and walking.

Two things I won’t miss a bit — grey winters and biting-cold Montana wind.

This weekend I was lucky enough to soak in the good stuff and get outta the bad.  On Friday afternoon, I hopped on a cheap Allegiant Air flight to San Francisco with two of my favorite ladies.  We said goodbye to husbands, dogs, and children, escaping the frigid cloudy skies with giddy excitement.  Last time I headed out of town time for quality girlfriend time with Joellen and Gillian was over 5 years ago, and I was psyched to hang with these two hot mamas for 4 days of city time fun.

First stop: our friend Melissa’s SUV outside of Oakland airport.  Second stop: a giant (authentic!) margarita in the Mission district.  Third stop: Sengalese food at Baobao, followed by a rockin’ dance party as dinner tables were cleared out from under us.  “You dance crazy,” we heard, multiple times, from different patrons.  True that.  Not bad for the first few hours in the big city.

Thanks to our friends Andrew and Julie, we got to stay in a sweet apartment one block from the Presidio.  While the mamas headed to yoga the next morning, I followed the siren call of salt water and ran to the beach.  Now, if you know me at all, you know I only run when large predators are chasing me or I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to get somewhere fast.

As a landlocked beach girl, seeing the ocean after almost 6 months brings out my rusty running instincts.  I spent the day tooling around beaches and marinas, watching fisherman, sailboats, and kiteboarders.  Dreaming of the soon-to-come days when I’ll be staring at land from the water, instead of vice versa.  Dreaming of the day when I will feel as urgent about getting to the shore as I now feel about getting to the water.

We drank champagne when we reunited, and hit the streets in search of Thai food.  As the weekend wore on, we added Greek, Mexican, and Chinese to our cuisine, satiating those cultural cravings that itch like hell when you live in a town that specializes in burgers and beer (even if it IS exceptional meat and mircrobrews).

Speaking of cravings, we also filled our urban hiking cup to the brim.  The best part about cities is that you can walk and walk and walk, and still see something new, vibrant, unique, or bizarre around every corner.  I love that my girlfriends love walking as much as I do, and that we had the same chill exploratory agenda for the weekend.

On Sunday, we trekked over 8 miles, stopping to sample premium green tea, Vietnamese coffee, falafel, artwork, thrift stores, a brewery, a roller skate park, and — of course —  beaches.  The 3 of us all love the ocean, and you could tell: we cartwheeled near the water line, did headstands in the sand, and tried to absorb as much salt-water-laden goodness as our eyes, skin, and hearts could hold.  These memories will feed us through the long Montana winter.

The highlight of our urban hike was walking the length of Golden Gate Park, where we had the pleasure of meeting these Barbies in a Boat.  I’ll end here because — in a lot of ways — these 3 Barbies happily jetting around sunny San Francisco symbolize how I felt with Gillie and Jo this past weekend: carefree, fun, free, and easy.

 

A Few Photos From San Fran:

Free Stuff – Round 1

I was in rare cleaning form this Sunday morning. The grey Montana sky inspired me to make a sparkling house. And then, putting the vacuum away, I started looking deeper into the dark recessed storage area under our stairs.  Whoooaa, Nelly, do we have a LOT of random stuff.

Rob and I pulled some of it out into the light of day, and put it in “to go” piles.  We have to fit our whole life into a 10×12′ space in a few months, and the items pictured below are officially voted off the storage-island.

Want ’em?  You got ’em, for the rock-bottom price of FREE. And stay tuned: there’ll be plenty more free goodies coming soon.

A few things were too rad to make the “free” list, so check out Craigslist if you want one of the following cool-kid items.  Hint: they’d make an awesome Christmas gift for your friend or loved one.

Beer brewing kit pictured above (complete with 2 party pigs!)

12-string Ibanez guitar

Sector 9 Longboard

This is a SWEET deal, worth like $150. Or something. 3 cans of bear spray, perhaps slightly expired, but totally deadly to charging grizzlies.
Nice stools, huh? They’re about 2.5 feet high, and all yours.
Random assortment A: large fan, humidifier, air filter, and…yes…crutches.
Who doesn’t need jars? This box comes with every size you can imagine, complete with a variety of lids.
Random Assortment B: another fan, red spice shelf, 8′ yellow panel curtains, striped rug.

The Missoula Mandala Project

This weekend Bri and I help our good friends Jana and Pedro build the Missoula Mandala, Brazilian-themed outdoor community art project that coincides with the Day of the Dead, or Dia de los Muertos.  Here’s a video I made of the piles of colored sawdust being transformed into a large, beautiful, symmetric design with the help of hundreds of kids and community members.

Cuddly Chickens Up For Grabs (if you can catch them)

One of the best parts about living in Missoula is that you get the best of the “urban” and the “rural” worlds.  It’s Montana’s second largest city–and the biggest city for several hours driving in any direction–so we get our share of culture and music, as well as a hip downtown.  But since it’s surrounded on all sides by vast wilderness, mountains, rivers, and agricultural lands, you can easily escape the urban bustle and embrace the rural lifestyle.

Plus, you can be a chicken farmer.

Two years ago, we built a sweet chicken coop, complete with a window, insulation, a tin roof, and a fun-run for the girls.  We populated it with 4 young silver-laced wyandottes, and watched them do their chicken thang.  With a light on in the coop for a couple hours in the morning and evening, they even kept laying their pretty speckled eggs throughout Montana’s dark fall and winter.

Last summer, one got strangely and incurably ill (i.e. she was trying to walk around on her head and was miserable).  We lost her.  But the other 3 soldiered on.

One of the most hilarious parts of being a chicken farmer is chicken herding.  We let the girls free-range for worms and other goodies a few times a week.  They roam the yard, and even occasionally take a walk down Highland Drive to visit the neighbors (half of whom are urban chicken farmers, too).  But then you gotta put the girls back in the coop, which is easier said than done.

Herding is a fine art, and takes years of practice.  It’s a mix of patience and pressure: if you make them walk too fast or get too close, they scatter in 3 directions.  But if you go too slow, they slip right through your legs to find another tasty treat in the dirt.

It’s time to say goodbye to our girls, though.

We’re getting ready to leave in early April, and it’d be nice to see them settled in a new coop-dominium before the weather gets frozen and harder on them.  They should have another year of laying in front of them, as long as they get enough light, food, and water.

So, our question for you: who wants to be a chicken farmer?  We’ll throw in 10 pounds of free food, and a free herding demonstration, to boot.

 

 

Stitching 2 Creeks Back Together Again

As a perfect follow-up to the “typical office day” video I shared earlier this week, here’s the front-page article in the Missoulian newspaper this morning.  It’s all about the job we finished, which reconnects two creeks.

It’ll be my last on-the-ground project before we take off to sail and explore for a couple of years.  Watch the video for an up-close look at how I rebuilt the stream.

80 years after it was diverted, Twin Creek steered back into Ninemile Creek

By ROB CHANEY of the Missoulian

NINEMILE – It took 58 minutes for Twin Creek to flow 400 feet and reconnect a waterway severed for the last 80 years.

“That’s pretty awesome,” David Pontrelli yelled as the first muddy cloud from Twin Creek’s new channel bloomed in the clear waters of Ninemile Creek.

On a freezing Friday morning, he saw the result of six weeks of earthmoving and landscape engineering repair a bit of family history.

“My grandpa was a miner up here in the ’30s,” Pontrelli said. “I’m working on some of the same projects he did, putting them back together. We’re making a positive impact, and I’m extremely proud to be a part of that.”

Shortly before World War II, gold miners patented a four-mile stretch of the Ninemile Creek bottom and started dredging the floodplain. Their machines scooped up the creek’s cobbles and gravel into berms 20 feet high, seeking a layer of clay where the valuable minerals hid. Ninemile Creek’s winding oxbows were shunted into a straight-line ditch.

*****

Twin Creek flows into the Ninemile from the hills to the south. When it reached the dredging zone, the miners forced it into a ditch that eventually poured into a pond and percolated away.

“No one’s blaming the miners – they were trying to survive just like the rest of us,” said Trout Unlimited project manager Rob Roberts, who organized the work with cooperation from Missoula County, the Lolo National Forest and the University of Montana. “There’s a lot of debate about how much they found. I think they paid their way. Now we’re trying to create a new legacy for the valley, and return things to the way they were.”

Sort of. To connect the two creeks, Roberts’ crew had to rearrange 16,000 cubic yards of old dredge berm into a causeway across some of the mining channels. That put a pile roughly the size of a football field in a miner’s clearing, with the new creek running 20 feet above the old dredge channel on either side.

Pontrelli and his Streamside Services LLC coworkers hand-placed hundreds of rocks in a series of pools and cascades to mimic the natural contours of a creek. Then they scattered sand, gravel and clay in the bed and blasted the whole mix with water hoses. The goal was to armor the new streambed so water wouldn’t leak out before it reached Ninemile Creek.

*****

Rock and River Co. partners Chance Kirby and Ray Trollope did most of the heavy lifting with their excavator and dump truck. In three weeks, they lifted and moved 1,600 dump-truck loads of fill. On Friday, Kirby got to pull the earthen plug that kept Twin Creek in its ditch. A single bucketful of dirt at 11:31 a.m. was all it took to send the stream tumbling into its new path.

A veteran of the Milltown Dam removal with a dozen years of streambed experience, Kirby used his huge power shovel to re-landscape the area around where Twin Creek used to run. While he transplanted loads of living plants into the old ditch, UM Wildland Restoration students Mark Fogarty and Mark Marano scrambled through the mud seeking stranded fish.

They returned with a 4-inch trout and a handful of minnows for the new channel. Roberts said a stranded population of westslope cutthroat existed in Twin Creek, and now will mingle with the fish in Ninemile Creek. Like first-time homebuyers in a new subdivision, Roberts said fish will flock to the new reach for a while.

Fogarty, Marano and classmate Danielle Berardi also put together a squad of 30 fellow students last weekend to plant thousands of trees and bushes along the new streambed.

Twin Creek was just one of a half-dozen tributaries to the Ninemile diverted for mining. The upper stretch of Ninemile Creek remains trapped in an unnatural channel.

*****

Lolo National Forest soils and water program manager Traci Sylte said Twin Creek didn’t have any serious hazardous waste issues, although other mining-affected creeks higher in the drainage did.

“So far, we’ve done work on Little McCormick, Eustache, Mattie V, St. Louis, Twin, Kennedy and Josephine creeks,” Sylte said. “It’s been great that a lot of private folks have the ethic and desire to give us permission to do this.”

The Twin Creek project cost about $200,000. All combined, the Ninemile drainage streamwork has brought close to $1 million for area excavators, contractors, nurseries and laborers. And there’s been some unpaid labor involved as well.

Over the years, beavers have built ponds that backed up the water and flooded into parallel dredge channels, returning a bit of braiding to the waterway. But lots more work would be needed.

“The only problem is we don’t have enough money to do this for the entire four miles,” Roberts said. “It’s so disturbed in this area, we don’t even know where the floodplain was. It’s completely altered.”

Typical Day at the Office

Everyone always asks what I do for work, and it’s always a little tricky to try and explain it in words.  So, I took our new Go Pro to work this week to make a video of a typical day in the field, where I get to rebuild streams as part of my job for Trout Unlimited. As you’ll see, that means driving in the woods with my dog, moving boulders, and directing heavy equipment.  Fun stuff.

Enjoy.

 

Dancing Adventures

Dancing is definitely up there with my top 3 favorite things in life.  Especially when I get to pair it with one of my other top 3 favorites: spending quality time with my best friends and family (which, luckily for me, happen to be the same people).

Check out this video of a little Wednesday night ditty with my buddy, “Karamat.”  Yup, we’re wearing random costumes.  Nope, we’re not even slightly buzzed.  Why?  Well, why the hell not?  What else would we do on a dark, cold-ish Montana weeknight?  Plus, I wanted to inaugurate the new Go Pro Hero 2 that arrived that afternoon in the mail (checked it off the list in our Little Red Bon Voyage Bible, thanks to 20% off at REI).  And I hadn’t seen “Karamut” since the last time we donned random wigs and danced around…at least 2 weeks ago.

Saturday night, my sister and dad and I left the wigs in the costume trunk, and went down to the Blacksmith Brewery in Stevensville to investigate the seasonal Pumpkin Ale and the groovy tunes of Tom Catmull.  Both rocked.  Too bad I left the Go Pro at home…the slightly blurry smartphone pics are still pretty fun, though.  Check out the father-daughter duo tearing up the brewery dance floor below.  I got in a dance with both Cassidy and Dad, and also led Ali in a sweet polka spin.  My pink cowboy boots always make me feel like leading a polka.

Awesome Autumn — Let Us Count the Ways

Fall in Montana is pure magic…probably because it comes and goes faster than you can say “abracadabra.”  But while it’s here, it frames everything in pure golden hues and pink-cheeked smiles.

Here are just a few of the many reasons I love this mountain-studded, river-dappled state in October.  Will you share your favorite thing about fall?

Little girls swimming in pink hats, like our neighbor Ella Chapin.
Even littler girls smiling in pink sweaters, like Sophia Switalski.
A cornucopia of delicious harvested goodness at downtown Farmers Markets.
Vibrant strips of yellow cottonwoods on sparkling clear creeks.
Floating over a colorful town like a blue-green bird.
Playing “fetch the ball” for hours with kiddos at Caras Park.
Random Missoula events, like this dunk tank on a near-freezing evening at the “Pray for Snow” party.
Roasting pigs over open fires…and then eating them. Yum…

 

Rain-bright streets framing turbulent skies.

Like a Fish Out of Water

We hauled the boat out of Flathead Lake, and winterized her for her stay “on the hard” over the next 7+ months.  It’s always a bittersweet (mostly bitter) moment to see Spindrift swaying like a stranded fish above the lake, knowing that we’re saying goodbye to sailing the blue-green waters beneath Montana’s beautiful peaks.

This fall’s haul-out was even more poignant, as it’s the last time we’ll sail Spindrift for years.  Her owner, John, lives in New York City, and has generously let us share his family’s 1975 Paceship-26 for the past 6 years.  He’s looking for new friends to share and maintain the boat, since we’re heading out on our adventure before the next Montana sailing season.

Luckily, the bitterness of saying goodbye to Spindrift is offset by the sweet, sweet knowledge that next time we set foot on a sailboat it’ll be in warm, salty, southern seas!

The master at work. Phil moves hundreds of boats in and out of the water

Check out Dayton Yacht Harbor’s new yellow tractor! We used to have a 1940s fire truck that pulled out the boats — more ambiance, but also more nerve-wracking.

Kind of weird to see Rob BELOW the sailboat on the water!

There she goes! Out of the lake and up the road, pulled by the new yellow tractor.

Almost at her resting place for the winter. Spindrift stays on jacks “on the hard” from Oct through June.
A close-up of the high-tech sling device, with Phil expertly handling the controls.
Getting her centered in the two sling straps takes some doing, as well as some old plywood boards, a boat-hook, and serious cursing.