Tag Archives: California

Posted in travel

Glacier National Park and The ‘Unhappy Camper’

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by Bob Sparrow

Linda motorcycle

Linda in route from Minnesota to California in 1972

Depending on your perspective, this is the ‘natural’ part of our trip or the ‘natural disaster’ part of our trip; Linda shares the latter perspective. To help frame this, you need to know that Linda was raised on a dairy farm in rural southern Minnesota; there was no indoor bathroom facilities for the first 5-6 years of her life, so she used an outhouse, which was about fifty yards from the house; which in the winter was fifty yards too far and in the summer, fifty yards too near. Pheeeew. Linda left the farm for California immediately after graduating from college . . . on a motorcycle. No, she wasn’t a passenger, she was driving. Linda plays golf and walks the course. I say all this to establish the fact that she is not a wussy, but she is also not a lover of the great outdoors. Wilderness to her is the rough along the 4th fairway at Yorba Linda Country Club.   ‘Roughing it’ is a Marriott without valet parking. She believes that people who had no cars invented hiking. So over the last three days of our trip, we are operating on two totally different wavelengths, sounding something like the following:

Linda

The ‘Unhappy Camper’

Lake McDonald in Glacier Nat’l Park

Four mile hike to Avalanche Lake:

2014-07-30 13.58.59

Avalanche Lake

One perspective: “The trailhead starts at a waterfall where the Avalanche Creek cascades magnificently into Lake McDonald and weaves back through the majestic pines to Avalanche Lake, a serene, crystal clear lake set in a glacial valley surrounded by 7-8,000 foot mountains.

Another perspective: “The waterfall’s pretty and the lake is nice, but there are too many trees between them and I can’t get any phone reception here; apparently there is no Big Cell or Big Wifi in this Big Sky state.”

We check into the Lake McDonald Lodge

One perspective: “What a quaint room, rustic wood beam ceilings, step-saver bathroom and a view of the forest.”

Another perspective: “This is the worst room I’ve ever stayed in, no TV and where’s the mini bar?”

Bear

“No I don’t have bear spray, I thought you said hair spray!”

Flora and Fauna

One perspective: “Did you know that in Glacier National Park there are nearly 1,132 species of plants including 20 varieties of trees, over 200 species of birds, nearly 60 species of mammals and 24 species of fish, including 18 native?”

Another perspective: “No, but if these damn mosquitos don’t leave me alone, I’m going to eradicate one entire species myself.”

Going to the Sun Road

One Perspective: “This is one of the most spectacular roads I’ve ever driven on, look at the water falls and rock formations here on the Continental Divide.”

Another Perspective: “Keep your eyes on the road!  Couldn’t they have just blown a tunnel through the mountain instead of creating this road along these cliffs?  Who wants to go to the sun anyway?”

View from Many Glacier Lodge

View from Many Glacier Lodge

Many Glacier – Hike to Johns Lake

One Perspective: “I know it’s early, but do you want to take a quick 3 mile hike before breakfast to John’s Lake, the walk along the river is beautiful?”

Another Perspective: “Zzzzzzzzzzz”

Five mile hike to St. Mary’s Falls

One Perspective: “These are spectacular falls”

St. Mary Falls

St. Mary Falls

Another Perspective: “If they’re so spectacular, why didn’t they build the road closer to them? Oh crap, I broke a nail.”

Into Canada and to The Prince of Wales hotel.

One Perspective: Great old railroad hotel with spectacular views

Another Perspective: No elevator and we’re on the 5th floor? No cell, no wifi, no Starbucks and I’ve seen this view on the Internet. When do we check out?

For someone who wonders why people would want to walk through a forest without any real purpose, she did pretty well particularly in light of the emotions she was going through with her father’s health. She did enjoy the scenery and the company of Moose (Pat), Rocky (Pam), Glacier (Bob P), Current (Jeanne), Digger (John) and Dug (Lisa), Slot (Linda) and Akeem (me) – it’s a unpublished rule that you have to have a mountain/hiking name.

Prince of Wales Hotel

Prince of Wales Hotel

 

View from PofW Hotel

View from Prince of Wales Hotel

Now that I’m home and have the luxury of wifi, I’ve attached the pictures to the 3 previous posts – Grand Teton, Yellowstone and Flathead Lake that you can revisit in the archives, including the video of the buffalo walking next to our car.  (Yes, I learned how to insert a video into the blog!).  All the pictures, including the ones here, are mine, except the one of Linda on the motorcycle in 1972.

Posted in Blog Info / Up-dates • Tributes

A WOMAN AHEAD OF HER TIME – Part One

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

This week, in honor of Mother’s Day, I want to pay special tribute to my paternal great-grandmother, Annie Billiou Hoever.  Last year I received a ring from my mother that I always assumed was my paternal grandmother’s engagement ring.  When I told mom I would enjoy wearing Grandma’s ring she looked at me with alarm – something I’ve become used to – and said, “It wasn’t her engagement ring, it was her mother’s engagement ring.  It belonged to Annie Hoever.”

Sheesh!  Good thing I found this out before mom died or I would never have known the truth.  In all the stories I’d heard about our family, I couldn’t remember one mention of Annie Hoever.  Mom had only met her a few times after she married our dad so she couldn’t tell me much about her.  I wanted to know more about the woman who first wore the ring so I started doing some research.  Luckily, I found a second cousin who had stories, pictures and old newspaper clippings about the whole Billiou clan.  Jilted lovers, murder, insanity…it was all there.  Just your typical American family.

Annie’s father, Joseph Billiou, was born and raised in St. Louis.  Her mother, Julia, had emigrated from Ireland to Willows, California in the 1850’s.  Willows is in rice farming country north of Sacramento.  My father, who was raised in Willows, often spoke of his home town in rapturous terms.  I’m not sure Fodor’s would agree with Pop; Willows is a typical agricultural outpost that could barely be found on a map until Interstate 5 was built and they constructed some off ramps to the town.  Now its claim to fame is that there is a both a Denny’s and a Burger King right off the freeway exit.

In any event, when Julia came to Willows she fell in love with Joseph’s brother, Michael.  Michael (rather foolishly in hindsight) asked Joseph to move from St. Louis to Willows to join him in the rice business.  In a move worthy of a Kardashian, Julia took one look at Joseph, broke off her engagement to Michael,  and married Joseph.   That must have made for some rather awkward Thanksgiving dinners.

Joseph became major rice and grain farmer in his own right.  He and Julia eventually had four children, Annie being their firstborn, and they lived a wonderful life on the ranch.  Annie was educated at a Catholic boarding school near San Jose and then returned to Willows to settle down.  However, no eligible bachelor presented himself and by age 27 she was still unmarried.  Today, that would be the equivalent of someone at age 40 still being single.  In other words, getting hit by lightening was a more likely event.

Unfortunately, in 1887 the family idyll was rather unceremoniously torn apart when their cook, having drunk too much of the cooking sherry, stormed into the dining room one evening and shot Annie’s mother to death.  The cook then chased Annie around the house, shooting at her twice but – the cooking sherry having taken its toll – missed her both times.

The subsequent newspaper accounts of the cook’s trial and the vigilante justice that took place afterward are something right out of the Wild West.  I guess because it was  the Wild West.  A jury convened the week after the murder (makes you long for frontier justice, doesn’t it?) and found the cook guilty, sentencing him to life imprisonment.  Upon hearing the verdict  an angry mob formed and demanded “an eye for an eye”.  The sheriff, knowing a “situation” when he saw one, put guards at the entrance to the jail and hid the cook in the basement. He wasn’t aware that one of the vigilante group members was a former sheriff’s employee who knew all of the jail’s hidden entrances.  That night the group broke into the jail, extricated the cook, and lynched him in a nearby field.  No member of the group was ever arrested for the cook’s murder.

You would think Annie had suffered enough trauma to last her a lifetime, but unfortunately she had more ahead of her.

Stay tuned for Part Two…coming on Thursday!

Posted in Blog Info / Up-dates • opinion

LIVING ON THE FACE OF THE SUN

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By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Eight months of the year I live in Paradise, otherwise known as Scottsdale, Arizona.  Contrary to popular belief, it does get cold here in the winter – we’ve had a freak snowfall most every year – but generally we have sunny days and 70 degree temperatures.  It’s what causes some of my jerkier acquaintances to call home to Minnesota every January and taunt their friends who are digging out from an ice storm.

But all that is about to change.  This past weekend we had our first 100 degree temperature of the year.  That’s right – it’s frigging APRIL and we hit the century mark already.  Although it will cool down a bit this week, the fact that we’ve had a 100 degree day means only one thing:  we are once again facing hell on Earth.  Literally.  The average temperature here in July and August is 105.  That would almost be bearable except that the average low is 75.  So it never cools off.  We are God’s warming drawer for four months of the year.

I know that the conventional wisdom is that it’s a dry heat, but then again, so is my microwave oven and you won’t see me living in that.  In the 14 years we’ve lived here I’ve never become used to this “upside down” schedule.  My whole life I was conditioned to love summer – school was out, we looked forward to time at Tahoe, and we had lots of beer parties.  Now summer is something to be dreaded.  Somehow that still seems unnatural to me.

Our strategy since I retired ten years ago is to escape out of here each summer.  We have tried all sorts of combinations for our summer road trips – renting for a month, staying in hotels for a week or two, mooching off some of our friends who have mountain homes.  Two years ago when our house was being remodeled we rented a condo in Sun Valley, Idaho for three months.  Ironically, that was our worst summer.  I have to admit, as nice as it was to get away for the whole summer, I really missed my “stuff” at home.

So once again this summer we will be in and out of Arizona, traveling to California’s central coast, the Bay Area and up to Sun Valley.  That leaves a lot of time to sit at home in the air conditioning and get stuff done.  I’ve already started to compose my list of “summer projects”; really fun stuff like cleaning and organizing drawers, saving computer files to a hard disk, and alphabetizing the spice rack.

But I also have a potential blockbuster to keep me occupied. When I did our family history last year I traced it back to medieval England, and there is some possibility that one of our lines goes back to the Irish kings.  If true, that would go a long way towards explaining Bob’s propensity to enter every Irish pub he sees.   We also might be related to King Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine, in which case I think we are 16,346 in line to the British throne.  You’d think that should have warranted an invitation to the Royal Wedding last year.

So, as those of you in other states get ready for BBQ’s, planting a garden or just chilling at the beach, I will be putting the cardamom between the caraway seeds and the cayenne pepper.  And, maybe, getting fitted for my tiara.