Moominmama's Adventures

Wherein Moominmama reunites with family in the Hells Canyon and Eagle Cap wilderness of northeast Oregon... Moominmama's arrival in northeast Oregon celebrates a major goal. When planning this trip, New Hampshire was the starting point, and Oregon, where my brother lives, was the end point. Every stop in between came from planning travel between the two.  My brother and I met up in Enterprise, Oregon and spent the next few days in the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest near the Imnaha River. As I expected, there were the towering pines and rocky streams.  But what surprised me were the parts of this country dominated by enormous sand-colored mountains of tan and rusty rock, covered in dry grass.  Hells Canyon drops a mile and a half down, parted by the Snake River on the Oregon/Idaho border to form the deepest river gorge in North America. Volcanic activity has shaped this area in combination with the collision of tectonic plates that shoved up what was ocean floor and forme...

  In which Moominmama visits the Bison Range, now managed by the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, and learns of a New Hampshire connection... More than a century ago, when white men were systematically destroying the Plains bison, a Salish man of the Pend d'Oreille proposed to his leaders that they bring a group of bison to the grasslands west of the Continental Divide to create and tend their own herd. But the Pend d' Oreille were not herders by tradition (and bison not easy to herd.) The tribe lived on the west side of the Rockies and traveled east each year to hunt the sacred buffalo. They could see the number of bison were declining, but many felt caring for a herd was not feasible. Faced with a lack of consensus, the idea was abandoned. But some years later, this man's son, Latati (HLA-tah-tee, first syllable pronounced as if you have peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth), traveled east and rounded up a small herd of orphaned bison. These he brought ba...

  Wherein Moominmama sprains an ankle whitewater rafting, but not before she hikes to the Continental Divide... While camping at Glacier National Park, one of Moominmama's goals was to stand athwart the Continental Divide, where a raindrop on one side descends toward the Pacific and a raindrop on the other descends toward the Atlantic. The plan was to do this the easy way, by driving up the renowned "Going to the Sun Road" and parking near the Logan Pass trailhead for an easy walk. But getting a ticket  -- a Park Service addition this year to control the overwhelming traffic -- to drive the "Sun" road proved impossible. As I learned, however, the entrance booths are unmanned until 6 a.m. so I was advised to drive into the park under cover of darkness. Once inside the park, I waited for the sun to illuminate the spectacular scenery, squeezing in a dawn hike to a waterfall. Then I drove to Logan Pass. It was 8 a.m. and already, parking was impossible! In fact, the...

  In which Moominmama sees the landscape that inspired author Ivan Doig and lands a campsite in Glacier National Park… A great many years ago, Moominmama first read “This House of Sky” by Montana author Ivan Doig. Visiting the state that factors into so many of his books was long a dream. Among his fictional creations is a town called Gros Ventre, inspired by a real town called Dupuyer. So after leaving eastern Montana, Moominmama pointed the Moominhouse west toward Dupuyer and stopped in at Buffalo Joe’s Eatery and Saloon for dinner, where she ordered pan-fried trout. Fresh-caught trout was a favorite meal of many of Doig’s characters — and for good reason. It was while inquiring about a memorial to Doig that Moominmama met Vicki Beck, who was Doig’s high school girlfriend. She grew up in this very establishment, owned by her parents, when Doig moved in as a boarder next door to attend high school in nearby Valier. She showed me a photo of him as part of the cast of the high schoo...

Wherein Moominmama learns about Crazy Horse and how the Lakota, Cheyenne and Arapaho put George Armstrong Custer to shame (and death)... A granite mountain in the Black Hills of South Dakota is slowly being carved in the shape of Lakota Warrior Crazy Horse, and the monument already outshines nearby Mount Rushmore in its size, scope and ambition   It is entirely paid for by donations, following a decision by the Lakota and the sculptor not to accept any federal money for fear of losing control over the memorial. Hired by the Lakota, the sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski designed and gave the rest of his life to the project, which should look like this model when finished but 563 feet tall and 641 feet long.  His wife, Ruth, provided oversight after he died, relying on his detailed notes, and now several of their children and grandchildren continue the work, supported by the Lakota who want this site to be a center for education and a testament to the bravery of all Native A...