5-7 August 2022

5 August 2022, Friday

Sun Lakes/Dry Falls gets very crowded on Fridays. And noisy! (Actually, the campground was already filling in Thursday night.) We wake at 6:30, have breakfast and strike camp. After saying goodby to our neighbors we are on the road at 10:40 am. The best route to our next destination from Dry Falls is Route 2 to Spokane and then I-90. After driving east for almost 2 hours we get a message from our Garmin GPS that I-90 is closed, “switching to a new route.” The Garmin indicates that we still have 7 ½ hours to go! O and I are quite skeptical. There is no indication online of any issues on I-90. We continue on our original route. After every exit for at least 20 exits the GPS indicates we should make a U-turn. But there is no closure on I-90. Granted, there’s a good deal of construction and closures of one lane or the other, but never both. In any case, between the slowdowns from construction and the fact that O and I never drive at the 80 mph speed limit and, also because we lose an hour with the time change on our eastward drive, we do not arrive in camp until 7:40 pm.

It is cloudy and quickly growing dark. The campground is full, but very quiet. It’s a small campground, and scenic, with grasslands, marshy areas (and accompanying mosquitoes,) cottonwood trees, and distant mountains. As we prepare a late, light supper we are treated to a rain shower. We will sleep in Vincent tonight and set up our tent tomorrow in daylight. 

6 August 2022, Saturday

It rained again during the night, and it’s pretty cool and damp this morning. We wander out to the office at the park entrance. The camp manager welcomes us and says we are already checked in. He invites us to an informal evening chat he will be giving tonight about the history of the park. Back at our campsite we decide it’s actually cool enough for a hot oatmeal breakfast. The weather turns to rain as we are discussing our menu so we hang the tarp over our wet picnic table, squeegee it off, and then start cooking.

We are off to a slow start today. It’s not until noon that we begin a short hike (in warm jackets – it’s still cold) over to the bank of the Madison River. From there we walk to the confluence of the Madison and Jefferson Rivers. This is where the Missouri River officially begins. A little ways downstream, the Gallatin River joins as well – hence the name Three Forks for the nearby town. Lewis and Clark named these rivers after the president and the secretaries of state and treasury.

Lewis and Clark were hoping to meet with the Shoshone tribe in this area in hopes of purchasing horses from them to allow the expedition to cross the mountains. Sacajawea was a member of the Shoshone and had been kidnapped at the age of 12 (about 4 years prior to to joining the expedition). When she recognized the landscape here they were very encouraged. A short time after leaving the confluence, the corps did find a party of Lemhi Shoshone, including Sacajawea’s brother! They were able to buy horses from them so they could continue their journey.

O, Lucy and I attend the talk in the evening. The park manager tells us about his family history. His great great grandparents on both sides lived in Montana. The confluence here is a sort of crossroads of history. It was a meeting place and hunting ground for numerous Native American tribes, a stopping point for many exploratory expeditions, and a jumping off point for military expeditions and for gold miners.

The manager discusses plans for the state park; how to develop the area while trying to preserve its beauty and quiet charm. This is an eternal debate in management of both state and national parks: how to preserve and protect while also making these landscapes accessible to more people. O and I return to our campsite. Poor Lucy. The mosquitoes seem to find her ears and her snout very tasty. I put her in the van for protection. O and I start our permethrin “lamp” – and the mosquitoes disappear. Soon it’s safe to bring Lucy back outside. I take out my fiddle and tune it again. Tuning is more of a challenge on the road! O briefly interrupts my playing to point out a beautiful pink sunset that covers almost three quarters of the horizon. I continue to play until it grows dark. A last walk for Lucy, then into the tent.

7 August 2022, Sunday

It’s cold and a bit foggy this morning. We layer up with warm shirts and jackets, take Lucy for a walk and cook up a veggie sausage frittata. As I am refilling water bottles I finally see one of the critters who have been digging burrows all around the campground – Prairie Dogs! Just as we finish cleaning up and preparing to get on with the day we get an invitation from K and A to FaceTime – which we do gladly. By the time we finish chatting, the fog is gone, the sun is shining and the day is warming quickly. Our first task is to find Wheat Montana Farms Bakery. We plan to buy sandwiches for today’s supper and pastries for tomorrow’s breakfast. The cafe is only about a 12 minute drive from camp. The line at the bakery is long! This place is popular!

Sandwiches and pastries in hand, we return to the state park to get some hiking done before the day gets really warm. We park just across the street from the campground. As we glance up we note a flock of white pelicans soaring above. Unfortunately, they are too distant for a photo. Near the parking area there are remnants of a town called Gallatin City II, established in 1860. The builders of the town had visions of it becoming a major business center. The railroad, however, had other plans. It bypassed the town in the 1880’s and the town died out shortly afterwards. 

From the ruins of the old Gallatin Hotel we walk towards Fort Rock and Lewis Rock, almost a mile away. We reach the Missouri River where the Gallatin River joins the flow. It’s a sunny and hot walk. We stop to water Lucy several times as we hike. We climb up Fort Rock from which we can view all three tributaries of the Missouri, in addition to the distant Tobacco Root Range and Madison Range. One can also view Lewis Rock in the distance. It is the vantage point from which the expedition mapped the surrounding countryside in 1805.

Gallatin River

We return to Vincent and drive to Three Forks Market to restock yogurt, grapes and a few other refrigerator items. Back at camp we enjoy our sandwiches and a very cold Jeremiah Johnson Scotch Ale – brewed in Montana. While relaxing after dinner we identify some of the berry bearing bushes nearby.

We spend part of the evening being entertained by the young girl (maybe 11 or 12) at the neighboring campsite who is building a time machine. She is also making a machine that turns imaginary things into real things. Her unit of measurement is “reality per second.” Her parents help out by passing her imaginary hammers, screwdrivers, pieces of string and bits of metal. She warns her father, “Dad, do not touch this button!” I wonder what it does. . .