The River Journal, May 2011

Because there’s more to life than bad news

A News MAGAZINE Worth Wading Through

May | FREE | www.RiverJournal.com

Local New

s • Environment • W

ildlife • Opinion • People • Entertainm

ent • Hum

or • Politics

20 voyageur canoes traveling the wake of David Thompson will arrive in the

area in early June. Plus: How to turn a bothersome beaver into an opportunity.

The Festival at Sandpoint will be announcing our 29th annual season line-up of big stars under

the big tent on Thursday, May 19, 2011.

Your last chance to buy season passes (if any are left) at the Early Bird price of just $169 (plus tax and city parks fee) will be midnight on Wednesday, May 18.

Buy your tickets online at our website at www.Festival at Sandpoint.com, or call our office at208-265-4554 (toll free at 888.265-4454).

For the earliest notification of our line-up, “like” ourFacebook page, or visit our website!

And don’t miss our poster unveiling on July 14!

Contents of the River Journal are copyright 2011. Reproduction of any material, including original artwork and advertising, is prohibited. The River Journal is published the first week of each month and is distributed in over 16 communities in Sanders County, Montana, and Bonner, Boundary and Kootenai counties in Idaho. The River Journal is printed on 40 percent recycled paper with soy-based ink. We appreciate your efforts to recycle.

THE RIVER JOURNALA News Magazine Worth

Wading Through~just going with the flow~

P.O. Box 151•Clark Fork, ID 83811www.RiverJournal.com•208.255.6957

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Proudly printed at Griffin Publishing in Spokane, Wash. 509.534.3625

May 20113 Following in the wake of David Thompson

4 What happened to our roads?

5 Priest River schools look for levy

6 Heron’s Garden Party

6 Celebrating two-wheeled transportation

7 Downtown Sandpoint Calendar

8 The one and only belted kingfisher

9 Those bothersome beavers

10 Meeting the goal of a balanced budget

11 Privacy in the age of Picasa (Politically Incorrect)

12 Veterans are low on the totem pole

13 A symphony of wolves

14 On the future (Faith Walk)

15 The emperor of America (Surrealist Research Bureau)

16 Obituaries

17 May is for memories

18 Titsi, Dizzy, Lefty and the bees (From the Mouth of the River)

19 Growing up wild (Scott Clawson and Scott Hancock)

Inside

Cover photo courtesy the David Thompson Columbia BrigadeBeaver photo courtesy Ohio Dept. of Natural Resources, photographer Tim Daniel

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May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page �

Internet.... Everywhere

It’s right around the corner. Don’t miss a bit of it, with

hundreds of activities through Sandpoint City Rec. The

summer activity booklet will be out May 21.

Tennis LessonsSwimming Lessons

Water Sports classes with Adventure Water Sports

Sand Creek Paddlers Challenge on June 11

Sailing (youth & adults)Camps for Arts, Science &

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Much, Much more!

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Following in the Wake of David ThompsonBrigade arrives in the area in early June

The slap of the river against the side of the canoe. The whoo-whoo of mourning doves. The electronic hum of a merganser skimming the water. Elk bugling. And the silence of a huge wilderness spreading for hundreds of miles in all directions. This is what David Thompson would have experienced as he made his way along the Clark Fork River as part of his staggering effort to map and survey almost one-and-a-half million square miles of the great Northwest. In 1811, arriving at the Pacific, he became the first person to survey and map the Columbia River from its source near Invermere, British Columbia to where it pours its waters into the ocean near Astoria, Oregon.

A group based out of Canada each year looks to recreate that experience, as part of the David Thompson Columbia Brigade. Over 150 paddlers, along with about 50 support people, will launch their vessels into the Kootenai on June 2; over the next 13 days, they will travel the Kootenai, Clark Fork, Pend Oreille and Columbia Rivers, recreating portions of Thompson’s historic journeys. On June 8 they will arrive in Libby, Mont., where they will spend the evening at the Asa Woods School, before making their way over the next five days to Thompson Falls, Noxon, Clark Fork and Dover. The Brigade is happy to meet with members of the public to present, demonstrate and educate residents about Thompson’s journey through their communities.

It was in 1809 when David Thompson traveled with a North West Company party along an Indian road he called the “Great Road of the Flatheads,” eventually arriving at Lake Pend Oreille. There they established the Kullyspel House on what is now called the Sam Owen Peninsula. That fall he also explored the Pend Oreille River (he called it the Saleesh River) all the way to Box Canyon in Metaline Falls, Wash.

It was in 2008 when a group of paddlers decided to follow in the wake of David Thompson from Rocky Mountain Horse to Old Fort William (now Thunder Bay). The 300 members of that brigade were so enthralled with the experience, they established the Voyageur Brigade Society as a way to “commemorate the fur trade” and “celebrate the achievements and activities of fur traders, surveyors, merchants, First Nations people and women of the fur trade era (1602-1850).”

Thompson traveled in a 10-person voyageur canoe. A voyageur, by the way, is the French word for a traveler, and is often used to refer to the fur traders of the 17th and 18th centuries. A brigade is a group of five canoes.

Thompson’s re-creators will travel the waterways in voyageur canoes as well; 20 of them will be part of the journey.

Born in London in 1770, David Thompson showed an aptitude for mathematics, which led to studies to prepare him to serve in the Royal Navy. At the age of 14, however, he was eligible to serve as an apprentice when the

Hudson Bay Company requested one; in 1784 he set off for the New World, and a new life.

A broken leg would leave him with a permanent limp and too long staring into the sun, as he learned to take measurements to determine latitude and longitude, is likely what left him partially blind. Nonetheless, he would become what some would call the greatest geographer ever to live.

That broken leg, which led to his learning the tools of map-making, he counted as a lucky blessing. “While wintering at Manchester House I fell, breaking my leg, which by the mercy of God turned out to be the best thing ever happened to me.....when Philip Turnor.. .. taught me the science of surveying: how to determine longitude and latitude exactly for each post of trade... Now I could make of this uncharted land a known quality and to this end I kept for sixty years records of all observations of each journey made.”

This June, take the opportunity to experience a taste of what life was like for David Thompson. The David Thompson Columbia Brigade will arrive on June 8 in Libby, staying at the Asa Woods School. On June 9 and 10 look for them in Thompson Falls at Ainsworth Field. They will arrive June 11 in Noxon, to stay at Pilgrim Park before heading to Clark Fork on June 12, where they will camp at Veterans’ Memorial Field. From Clark Fork they will journey to Dover City Beach (arriving June 13).

-Trish GannonClark Fork River photo by Peg Owens

Page � | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011

And they don’t have to—after all, don’t we Americans believe if it’s ours, it’s ours and we can do with it what we want? Or

is and we want it, then

you have to give it to us and if you don’t, then you sponsor terrorism and we’ll

By the way, China wants that oil as well. Remember China? The people who loaned us all that money? China’s oil consumption is around 6.5 billion barrels a year, and is growing at 7 percent every year. It produces about 3.6 billion barrels every year. Does this math look good to anyone? Can anyone other than Sarah Palin and George Bush believe we can drill our way out of this problem? Anyone who doesn’t think we better hit the ground running to figure out how to fuel what we want fueled with something other than oil probably deserves to go back to an

: I could go on forever, but you’ll quit reading. So one final discussion for the American public. First, let’s have a true, independent analysis of what happened on September 11, 2001. The official explanation simply doesn’t hold water. This is one of those “who knew what, when” questions that must be answered—and people/institutions must

Speaking of accountability, you might be surprised to learn that I would not support an effort to impeach President Bush after the November elections. First, because that’s too late, and second, because more than Bush have been involved in crimes against the American people. What I would like to see are charges (at the least, charges of treason) brought against Bush, Cheney, et al. Bring the charges and let’s let the evidence of

They have ‘slipped the surly bonds of

earth’ and ‘touch the face of God.’

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Holy Potholes, Batman!

What happened to the roads?!Visitors to Bonner and Boundary counties

these days could be forgiven for thinking there’s a lot of impaired drivers on the road as pilots of cars, trucks and SUVs bob and weave their way around and through the potholes that litter area roadways.

Does it seem to you like spring break-up this year is a lot worse than normal? If it does, you’re in good company: Governor Butch Otter added Bonner, Boundary and Shoshone counties to the state’s declaration of disaster in mid April, just days after Bonner County declared its own State of Emergency over the condition of the roads. Officials have said the cost of repairs this year will far exceed the money available to pay for them.

So what happened? Part of the explanation has to do with how roads are constructed. Think of a road as being like... a Mississippi Mud Pie. The chocolate kind of mud pie. The bottom layer (shell) of the highway pie is dirt. The carmelly fudge filling on top of that is mud. The ice cream filling is gravel. Then layer more fudge (asphalt) on top. And top it all off with mounds of whipped cream or, in a road’s case, snow and rain.

Asphalt, like a new car that loses value the minute you drive it out of the showroom, begins to fall apart almost as soon as it’s put down. The weight of cars and trucks causes cracks to develop in the asphalt—the more (or heavier) the traffic, the faster the cracks develop.

Water travels through the cracks and soaks into the gravel underneath. If it gets cold enough for that water to freeze while it’s still in the gravel or near the top of the dirt, it pushes up the asphalt roadbed. When the ground warms, the soil and gravel return to their normal level, leaving pockets of air under the asphalt that further weaken the road.

Come spring, this process is compounded as the dirt begins to warm—that unfrozen dirt can become a soupy, gooey mess.

And spring rain, along with our spring snow, adds even more water into the mix. Plus, as surrounding soil becomes saturated with water, failing culverts and mudslides add

a little more excitement to the mix. Call them the sprinkles on the top of the Mud Pie.

In this winter-that-never-ends, we’ve seen a lot of freeze/thaw cycles. A lot; each one contributing its share of damage to the roads. Until finally—Bob’s yer uncle—the weight of traffic on asphalt resting on air pockets instead of gravel breaks through, leaving a pothole in its wake.

Potholes can be fixed temporarily with some soft asphalt and gravel, but a so-called permanent fix—a mixture of asphalt and aggregate—can only be applied during dry, warm weather. We haven’t seen any of that around in quite a while.

So what can you do? Well, the first thing to

do is slow down. Hit some of those potholes at highway speeds and you can do some major damage to your vehicle. And be really careful if you try to avoid a pothole: avoiding potholes, like avoiding wildlife, can leave you in the wrong lane of traffic quicker than you think, not to mention it scares the crap out of the people driving both behind and toward you, who can’t always see the pothole you’re trying to avoid.

You could also attempt doing a sunshine dance. I’ve never heard of anyone doing one effectively, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. And if you succeed, I know a whole region full of people who will bless the day you were born.

-Trish Gannon

Photo by Audra Mearns

Page � | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011 May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 5

A surprising and possibly unprecedented thing happened at the West Bonner School District’s third informational meeting held in the Priest River Lamanna High School cafeteria May 30 for the purpose of approving next year’s supplemental school levy. The board came to the final meeting with a reworked figure from two earlier discussions of $1.9 million. However, by the time the meeting ended, the attendees, sparked by Zone 5 trustee Phil Hixson, speaking via speaker phone from Florida, convinced the trustees to go with a higher figure to help fund the 2011-12 school year.

The Board came to the final meeting prepared to approve the $1.9 million figure, an amount that included an estimated carryover deficit of $150,000 from the current year’s budget. Eventually, however, the Board agreed to up the one-year levy figure to $2,350,000. That includes the anticipated deficit, along with $1,196.340 for salaries and benefits. The breakdown of the salaries and benefits figure amounts to $521,130 in salaries and benefits for teachers, $451,609 in salaries and benefits for classified staff, and $57,983 in salaries and benefits for principals/administrators. The figures represent about 25 percent of the gross of each employee’s salary.

The levy figure also includes:One half of general fund health insurance premiums—$222,193.55Junior high library technician (15 hours per week)—4,781.00School resource officers—$50,000All co-curricular expenses (sports, music,drama, etc.)—$305,618Critical facility repairs/maintenance—$165,000 Emergency critical equipment repair—8,000Technology—$50,000Gifted and Talented—$6,000

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Library and school funds—$68,784Copy paper—$10,274Curriculum (Elementary reading/math curriculum materials)—$53,000AcaDeca—$3,000

Longevity stipends—$25,954Community building usage (evenings/weekend, utilities/custodial)—$47,000Tuition credit payments—$10,000Total: $2,350,000

A reserve of $196,249 is also built into the new levy amount. Its purpose is to help counteract the continued deep cuts in state support of education ($47 million statewide for next year) and the anticipated 2011-12 District 83 deficit. Speakers pointed to the fact that as state support of schools keeps dropping, the district gets farther and farther behind, a situation that shouldn’t be allowed to continue.

PRLHS teacher Gary Stewart voiced his sentiments. “The working proposal is not enough,” he said. “We can’t be afraid to ask taxpayers to support education.” He said he currently pays $4.98 per month for education and $12.77 per month for garbage service.

Support for a larger levy was even voiced by one high school senior who said he’d come to the meeting intending to vote against a levy, but had changed his mind after hearing about the need.

District 83 has had to cut its budget for the past two years, according to Superintendent Mike McGuire, in spite of the passage of the last levy in 2010. McGuire said later he had mixed feelings about the new levy the trustees approved to send to the voters, because he knows the area the district encompasses has “a real habit of squeezing the dollars for education” and he understands the economic challenges. But, he added, “We’re doing what we need to do for students; it is a proper number.”

This year’s cuts will include moving PREP Alternative High School this summer out of the portables it now occupies into the annex at Priest River Junior High. Employees will be paying more for benefits, and all reductions made two years ago will continue, when the vice principal positions at PRLHS and PRJH were dropped and custodians were reduced by four positions. Those cuts resulted in a budget savings of $984,000, he said, adding ‘We have good people doing 120 percent

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every day.”McGuire doesn’t even have a secretary;

instead, a secretary mans the telephone at the front desk of the District Office. The superintendent also serves as the alternative high school principal and is responsible for the Title IIA Professional development program as well.

Idaho Hill principal Susie Luckey also doubles as Title 1 director, has charge of the Homeless program and is the tutor evaluator as well. Junior high principal Gary Go travels to Priest Lake one day a week to double as elementary school principal there, and monitors detention at noon at the junior high.

Alternative school head teacher Liz Cork teaches a high school after-school credit recovery class, for no charge at all, two afternoons a week. “She does that out of the goodness of her heart,” McGuire said.

The finalized levy numbers also resulted from a poll of community members through a survey posted on the district website. The strongest support went for emergency critical equipment repair, unfunded classified salaries and benefits, curriculum, and facility improvements. Respondents expressed lesser support (under 40 percent) for the high school athletic director secretary position, tuition credit payments, junior high and high school athletic director total expenses, and the longevity stipend.

Taxpayers can go to the district website (www.westbonnerschools.org) to see how much the new levy will cost them if it is approved at the polls. The figures per $1,000 of assessed property value are posted there. For additional assistance, contact Debra Buttrey at 448-4439 or email Debra [email protected].

According to an informational brochure available at the District Office, WBCSD has the fourth lowest tax rate in the State of Idaho in the latest publication of the “Tax Levies for School Purposes.”

On May 17, community members can cast their ballots for or against the levy at one of eight polling places: Priest River Elementary, Priest River Lamanna High School, Idaho Hill Elementary, Priest Lake Elementary, Laclede Community Center, Blanchard Grange, Edgemere Grange, and Blue Lake Grange.

So… how is the district doing when it comes to educating its student population? McGuire said there are two big yardsticks to use as a measure: graduation rate and Adequate Yearly Progress or AYP, a federal requirement. The graduation rate at PRLHS hovers consistently at around 90 percent, he said, and last year the entire district made AYP.

District 83 currently employs about 170 people, he said, and has 75 teachers.

Some Priest River residents buck the “no more taxes” trend and ask the schools for a higher levy rate

We can’ t be afraid to ask taxpayers to support education

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Page � | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011

Just five days after the vernal equinox (the sign of spring in some areas) a group of budding young gardeners met with some more seasoned individuals at the Heron Community Center for a Gardener’s Tea. It was, what we hope to be, the first of many such events. While the traditional tea began with grazing through scones and brownies, it quickly moved into a presentation by four Master Gardeners all educated under the auspices of the University of Idaho Extension in Sandpoint.

Barbara Ross began the program discussing tomatoes from seeds to the canning pot. The audience was enraptured by her wealth of knowledge and her ability to field questions regarding her favorite vegetable. Barbara has been successful in growing tomatoes for over thirty years in the rather challenging location of Bull River and that in itself, if you are familiar with the location, would make her an expert.

Following Barbara’s information I discussed companion planting and the use of row covers for a more natural way to combat perceived garden pests. As our society as a whole becomes more aware of the dangers of our increasingly chemical world I felt the more alternative information available to the

public the better. I learned about row covers last year and through them and companion planting I was able to successfully produce brussels sprouts which had been a long time personal goal.

The entire panel collaboratively fielded questions throughout from the almost thirty guests and it was good to have Janis Clark and Sue Ball also there to offer their years of gardening expertise and what worked for them along what doesn’t. Janis not only completed the Master Gardener Class but she went on to develop a web site on the Wisdom of Healthy Food (www.wisdom-of-healthy-food.com).

Lastly, and just importantly Joyce Pence briefly touched on the importance of good sharp tools in the garden, and demonstrated to the group how to simply sharpen our own pruning sheers with the use of an oversized emery board. She also discussed cleaning and maintenance of gardening tools.

Behind the gathering, quietly organizing door prizes and lunch, was Meggen Fitchett. Meggen is a force all under herself in that she planned the entire event, as well as being the main coordinator behind the Tea’s sponsor, The Heron Community Health Center. For the last year Meggen has managed to procure

workout equipment, organize volunteers and literally build a gym from the ground up. Everyone in the Community has benefited from this woman’s efforts to bring greater health awareness to our community and others.

There is a great deal of cooperation in our river valley, that extends across the borders and cultures and this is just one example. The Gardener’s Tea had people on the panel from Clark Fork and from Heron, all of whom had been educated through the University of Idaho Extension. Our gym and library is open to anyone in the area and we also have a reciprocal courtesy with the libraries in Sandpoint and Clark Fork.

If you have plant problems or questions all the residents of this area are invited to contact the Bonner County Plant Clinic in the Extension Office. This service is available Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9 am to 3 pm. Their phone number is 208-263-8511.

So spring is here, signaled by the vernal equinox and with it comes gardening tips, seed and plant sharing and the perennial hope of a great gardening year in our beautiful River Valley.

Heron’s Garden Party

Experience

by Kathleen Huntley

It’s time to officially kick-off the bicycling season in Sandpoint with the Fourth Annual Sandpoint Bike Week in May, when the days are long and the weather smiles (we hope) on two-wheel transit.

Sandpoint Bike Week is several events rolled into one week of two-wheeled family fun designed to encourage and celebrate cycling for fun and as a means of transportation.

This year’s events include Bike to Work and Bike to School Day, a Bike Swap, a Ride of Silence, and the screening of “Ride the Divide” at the Panida Theater. All the events are free of charge, though bicycles and

bicycle gear will be for sale at the annual Bike Swap.

Organized by Pend Oreille Pedalers bike club, Sandpoint’s annual event began with Bike to Work Day in 2007 when about 250 riders rode to work. In 2008, the folks behind that initial event decided to expand the fun to a full week of cycling activities and Bike Week was born. Last year, more than 700 kids rode their bikes to school on Bike to School Day.

Here’s a rundown of this year’s events:Sunday, May 15: Bike Swap: 1 to 3 pm at

Sandpoint West Athletic Club. Trade, shop, consult with mechanics, learn bike safety and much more! As with all swaps, the best deals are had early. Drop off your gear to sell that morning, 9 to 11 am.

Wednesday, May 18: Ride of Silence: 6 pm. Meet at City Beach Park. Join other cyclists in a silent, slow-paced ride in honor of those who have been injured or killed while cycling on public roadways. The ride is part of a worldwide share-the-road campaign. Route is fewer than 10 miles. Must wear a helmet. All bikes welcome.

Thursday, May 19: Bike to School Day and Bike to Work Day: Don your helmet and ride your bike to school or work. Stop by one of four aid stations to pick up free goodies, and enter a free raffle to win great prizes, to be

awarded at the Panida Theater Friday night. Grand prizes are a new wheel-set for adults and a $50 gift certificate to a local bike shop for kids. All students who ride their bikes to school will get a prize. Aid stations will be located at Mountain West Bank (Highway 2 and Division), Outdoor Experience (First Avenue), Evans’ Brothers Coffee (524 Church St Ste B. at the old granary along the bike path) and Sandpoint Sports (Highway 95 in Ponderay). Aid stations are open from 6:30 am to 9:30 am. Bike Week T-shirts will be for sale for $10.

Saturday, May 21: “Ride the Divide”: Movie at the Panida Theater. Free admission. Doors open at 6:30 and movie at 7:30 pm. The film follows the experiences of three bikers as they race 2,700 miles with over 200,000 feet of climbing from Banff, Canada, to a small, dusty crossing on the Mexican border along the Continental Divide Trail. Pizza, beer and wine available for sale. Raffle prizes to be awarded immediately following the movie (need not be present to win).

Sandpoint Bike Week is made possible by our Gold Sponsors: Boyle, Platte, Key, C.P.A.s; Greasy Fingers Bikes and Repair; Pend Oreille Pedalers; Sandpoint Sports; Sandpoint West Athletic Club; Sports Plus; and Trinity at City Beach.

Celebrating Two-Wheel Transportation

Page � | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011 May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page �

SANDPOINT EVENTSDOWNTOWN

SANDPOINT EVENTSMay

� Sandpoint Farmer’s Market Opening Day. 9 to 1 in Farmin Park� High Tea with the Angels, Sandpoint Event Center, 11:�0 am. $20 per person. 208-2��-855�� The Voyage to Charisma: North to Alaska, Panida Little Theater, � pm, free� Just a Dance, Ponderay Events Center, �-10 pm, $12. 208-�99-0�2112 Wildlife Study Presentation, Sandpoint Library, discussion of Wolverine Study, 208-291-1281.12-1� Even the Rain, Panida Theater, 208-2��-9191.1� Contra Dance, Sandpoint Community Hall, �-10:�0 pm. $5. 208-2��-��511� Bingo Fundraiser at Luther Park. 1 pm. Benefits Kinderhaven. 265-355715 Bike Swap at Sandpoint West Athletic Club, 9 to 11 am. 208-��0-252�18 Bike to School and Bike to Work day.18 Ride of Silence, � pm at City Beach. Honors those injured or killed while riding on public roadways.18 Robert F. Kennedy Jr. speaks about water quality issues, �:�0 pm at the Panida.$15/$5 students. 208-59�-�18819-22 LOST IN THE 50s. See ad on page 1�.21 Ride the Divide at the Panida Theater. �:�0. Free. 208-��0-252�2� Paws to Dine, Little Olive Restaurant, 20 percent donation to the animal shelter. 208-2�5-�29�2� Neva performs, DiLuna’s �:�0 pm. 208-2��-08��.28 Allegro Dance Studio dance concert, Panida Theater, �:�0 pm. 208-2��-9191�1 State of the Scotchman, Sandpoint Community Hall, � pm, free.

PLUS:Sandpoint Farmer’s Market open 9 to 1 Saturdays, �:�0-5:�0 on

Wednesdays.Winery Music - Live music every

Friday night at Pend d’Oreille WineryPub Music with Truck Mills Blues Jam every Monday night at Eichardt’sTrivia every Tuesday night at MickDuff’s.Tuesdays with Mike, Trinity at City Beach, 5 to 8 pm.

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Visit www.DowntownSandpoint.com for a complete calendar of events

Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

at the Panida Theater

May 18�:�0 pm

Experience Downtown Sandpoint!

Phot

o by

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chw

en

May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 8

Many birds prey on fish. Eagles swoop down and pluck them from the water surface, getting nary a drop on themselves. Osprey plunge in feet first, before launching themselves back into the air with a water-shedding shudder. Mergansers, cormorants, and many other species dive deeply from the water’s surface in hot pursuit of their scaled meals. But the Belted Kingfisher does this its own unique way. It drops into the water like a plumb-bob, pointy end down; head first to keep its eye on the action. Then, like a duck, it launches itself back into the air, victim in beak, to find a comfortable perch so as to enjoy its meal.

There is no other bird like the Belted Kingfisher in our area. If you lived along the Rio Grande River in Texas, you might have an opportunity to spy either the Ringed or Green Kingfishers, which bookend the Belted for size. If anything, this fact simplifies identifying our featured bird. If you see a kingfisher around our neck of the woods or anywhere else north of the Mexican border, it will be a Belted.

Kingfishers are easy to identify. They are about a foot in length, though they don’t really appear to be that large. It is difficult to measure the size of any bird in the field. The most notable features will be the oversized head with a shaggy crest and a huge—I mean, huge—beak. The dominant colors are blue and white: blue on top, white below. The head, back, and wings are steely blue, though note the black wing and tail tips spotted with white. The neck is ringed with a wide white band. The breast and belly are also white. But what also makes the Belted Kingfisher peculiar among birds is... the rest of the story.

The female is more colorful than the male, which is an unusual trait among birds.

Both the male and the female will have a blue ‘belt’ that stretches between the shoulders and over the breast. This belt can form a triangular shape in the center that points down toward the belly. The female, on the other hand, will have a second, rusty-red belt, below and parallel to the blue belt, separated by another band of white. She might also have some of that same rusty-

red alongside her flanks, though some males might also exhibit this coloring. But the male will never have that red belt. This is a female-only fashion accessory. But both can carry a little bit of red in their blue belt.

Belted Kingfishers like to perch over the water while fishing. A bare branch or telephone wire is often used. I have even watched Kingfishers monitor a small patch of ice-less water during the winter. Otherwise, they will hunt from a hovering position while flying well above the water surface. Indeed, they are one of the few birds that is able to truly hover. The only other ones in our area that I can think of are hummingbirds and kestrels. Granted, we’ll see other birds hovering for extended periods of time, such as Red-tailed hawks, but these birds

are actually exploiting headwinds. Kingfishers do not require headwinds in order to hover.

A mated-pair of kingfishers will keep a territory of prime fishing waters of about a half-mile or so in length. They will also utilize a bare bank a few feet above the water’s edge for their burrow. The birds will excavate a tunnel that slops upward for a few feet, maybe several feet, before hollowing out the end for their nest. The upward slope is thought to protect the nest during times of f looding, as an air pocket is formed if rising water cuts off the burrow. Very clever.

Along with fish, kingfishers will eat crawdads, salamanders, or any other underwater life form worth its time, whether fur, fin, scale or shell. For the kingfisher, water life is a buffet. It is also quite impressive the size of fish these birds can swallow. I guess they are equipped with that oversized beak for a reason. They must have a belly to match!

Two last notable field marks to keep in mind. The Belted Kingfisher flies like a woodpecker, in that it f laps, soars, f laps, soars, in an undulating fashion. Sort of a like a high school physics illustration in wave patterns. I actually find this f lying pattern quite intriguing. And listen for the bird’s call. It is often described as a “rattle.” This is very accurate, though I am hard pressed to come up an analogy. Think of a Stellar’s Jay call with special effects. Unmistakable and unforgettable.

Belted Kingfishers, cool birds. And quite unique in many ways. Make sure when you are out in the field to scope out both of the birds, male and female. It is worth the effort. Happy birding!

Photo by Michael Woodruff, Idaho Dept. of Fish and Game

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May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 9

We are blessed up here to have an abundance of water in many forms with our lakes, streams, and wetlands. But rapid growth in the area, especially along our waterways, leads to more conflicts between our native wildlife and the new human inhabitants. The poor beaver seems to fall in our crosshairs as nuisance animal number one. I receive quite a number of calls about nuisance animals, especially in the spring. Here are some helpful tips about you and we (IDFG) deal with beavers.

So what does IDFG do about “nuisance” beavers? IDFG assistance is limited to providing information to people with nuisance and problem beaver. This assistance includes instructional materials, pamphlets, advice, clarification of applicable laws, and referral to experience trappers or private wildlife control companies. We manage beaver’s populations, not individual beaver problems. A liberal trapping season allows for trappers to remove beavers in problem areas while they make some money from pelts and enjoy the sport and art of trapping.

So what do you do if you are having damage from beavers on your property? The first step is to identify that you are truly having problems. Many folks call and want the beavers shot or removed merely because they exist on their property. True beaver problems include flooding from culverts being plugged, and damage to ornamental trees. So if you do have a problem with beavers, now what?

First option: Learn to live with the beavers! In many circumstances those experiencing minor beaver damage problems, such as a beaver chewing trees or ornamental plantings on a lakefront or riverfront home, may elect to do nothing. Learning to live with wildlife and enjoying and understanding the creatures that share their habitat with you may be a good way of dealing with beaver damage. Turn a problem into an opportunity to watch wildlife by getting those kids away from the video games and getting them outdoors. Did you know that beaver ponds can prevent flooding and drought? Beaver ponds also provide habitat for birds and other watchable wildlife.

Second option: Protect your property. It can be fairly easy to protect your trees from busy beaver activity. First, you must understand beaver behavior so you are not protecting every single tree on your property. Beaver rarely cut down large pines or massive old trees; they prefer willow, poplar, cottonwood, alder, and birch. Also, the further the tree is from water, the less likely the tree will be felled. Some people find this behavior

destructive, but quite the opposite is true. By having a beaver on your property you have your own personal forester! The beaver thins out these fast growing species and allows for healthier tree and shrub growth in the spring.

Understandably there are trees that folks want to protect on their property, especially those close to buildings. Repellents are available, but they have drawbacks, including a very strong odor. I would suggest physical barriers. Heavy wire mesh, heavy gauge hardware cloth or tar paper will discourage beaver from cutting and gnawing trees along the shoreline. In general the protective material you choose should be cut to a height of about 3 feet, then wrapped around the tree. Mesh size should be less than 1 inch in order to be effective. The wire mesh or hardware cloth can be secured by wiring the ends together. Tar paper can be held in place by baling twine or wire. This protection is quite effective and inexpensive if few trees are involved.

Another method involves painting with sand. Use approximately 8 ounces of fine sand mixed with one quart of oil or latex paint. Stir the mixture often because the sand will drop to the bottom of the can. Also paint the trunks of the trees about 4 feet high. If you have brand new trees that are less than 6 feet tall, you may want to avoid the sand paint method as I have heard it can harm certain trees.

Beaver often plug road culverts with dams. This problem can sometimes be slowed by building a horseshoe shaped fence around the upstream side of the culvert thus preventing the beaver from damming the culvert entrance. Beaver may build their dam around the fence but it is much easier to remove debris from the fence rather than from the inside of the culvert. Typical material used in a culvert fence material might include 30 ft wire with 6” x 6” squares and 4 to 6 posts. This is only one method of many for protecting your culverts. You can do an internet search for various other methods, such as the “beaver baffler” or the “beaver deceiver.”

Presently, your local game wardens are again responding to a fair number of bear calls. You and your neighbors are the only ones that can stop a bear from frequenting or destroying personal property. Put all trash in a secure place, and NO, this does not mean the back of your pickup or the Rubbermaid trash can. Take down the bird feeders, Tweety doesn’t need your help this time of year, and please put Fido’s food in secure place as well. And clean that BBQ once in awhile. Hey, it’s our duty to the bears, and to our neighbors.

Get out there and enjoy all that we are blessed to have, do it responsibly, and share that knowledge with the next generation.

Leave No Child Inside.

The Game TrailThose bothersome beavers

Matt [email protected]

The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol 17 No. 18 | November 2008 | Page 5

increase nutrients, such as nitrogen and

This septic pilot project is being introduced in order to comply with water quality standards as determined by the Federal Clean Water Act. Designated to protect water quality, the plan, known as a “Total Maximum Daily Load” for Lake Pend Oreille, addresses nutrient issues

In addition, many lakeshore homeowners participated in a survey in 2007 concerning a variety of water quality issues. As is turns out, their

Council website at tristatecouncil.org.

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Please support our disabled veterans!

Page 10 | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011

The first regular session of the sixty-first Idaho Legislature “sine died” (ended) on April 7 in the late afternoon after dealing with difficult issues on Medicaid cuts, education reform and Idaho election laws, to name just a few.

This year’s session was somewhat of a repeat of the previous two years’ sessions in that for the third straight year we were facing a General Fund budget gap. At the beginning of this session we were looking at a $340 million General Fund budget gap for fiscal year 2012 that begins July 1 of this year. This deficit assumed that current levels of service would be maintained and that growth in Medicaid, prison populations and public schools would be funded.

However, the situation did improve in the beginning days of the session; based upon new revenue estimates shortly after the beginning of the session and looking at a projected growth of 3 percent in revenue over the upcoming fiscal year we were able to reduce the budget gap to about 193 million dollars. We reduced this deficit and balanced the budget in part by some far-reaching changes to Medicaid and public schools, the two largest general fund appropriations that account for about 65 percent of the general fund appropriations. In addition, we reduced expenditures in other state agencies. In the end we balanced the budget by reducing spending by about 101 million dollars and using other revenue reserves and implementing legislative initiatives to cover the remaining 92 million dollars.

Major reductions included reducing some Medicaid spending by about $34.5 million, public schools by 13.3 million, higher education by $8.9 million and other agencies by $9.9 million.

These reductions are somewhat misleading however in that even though we reduced some Medicaid expenditures by $34.5 million, we actually increased the Health and Welfare budget by about 29.5 percent from the General Fund and an overall 11.8 percent from all funding sources. This large increase in Health and Welfare funding

was mostly the need to provide funding for the federal matching requirements associated with receiving federal dollars.

In the case of public schools, even though we did reduce overall funding by about 1.3 percent, we increased the General Fund appropriation by about 8/10 of a percent. In addition Idaho accepted nearly $300 million of federal stimulus dollars for education and in turn agreed that funding for education this fiscal year would not be below that of prior years. Because our actual FY2011 revenues appear to exceed our FY2011 estimate it appears that we will have to

direct another $6.5 million to public schools at the end of this fiscal year to meet our federal requirement. This payment will be made to public schools at the end of June and will help offset reductions in the FY2012 appropriation.

In other appropriation measures we authorized an Idaho Department of Transportation authorization of about 564 million dollars. Funding for transportation is not provided by general fund dollars; instead funding depends upon gasoline tax and Federal Highway Administration funds. Even though this level of funding will not support much in the way of new road projects, it will help keep our existing state roads maintained and supports the efforts of the ITD board and director in their reorganization of the department to reduce the department bureaucracy resulting in more funding available for road maintenance. There still

remains a need to increase funding for the department in future legislative sessions because there is simply not enough funding available through current revenue streams to maintain our state transportation system adequately.

In addition to the regular transportation appropriation we were also successful in getting another GARVEE bond authorization for the department in the amount of 162 million dollars that has a direct benefit to North Idaho. About half of this bonding authorization will fund an additional segment of the Garwood to Sagle project that will include construction of a four-lane highway from the Garwood area to Granite Hill. It will also include three new interchanges, one in the Chilco area, one at Silverwood and one at Athol. Construction on this segment will begin this spring.

Obviously there were other legislative actions that resulted in new legislation impacting Idaho citizens significantly. Education reform, improvement in the formation of Urban Renewal Districts, tax incentives for job creation and energy development are but a few of the more significant legislative actions. I have run out of space to discuss these in this issue of the River Journal but will provide information on these and other legislative actions in future River Journal issues.

I end by stating again that this was a challenging and oftentimes a controversial legislative session; however in the end we accomplished positive results on important issues and given the complexity of many of these issues served the citizens of Idaho well.

Thanks for reading! As always please contact me with issues of concern to you. Because the session has ended you may reach me at my home address at P.O. Box 112, Dover, 83825 and by phone at (208) 265-0123.

George

George Eskridge, Idaho Representative for House District 1B You can reach

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lso.idaho.gov

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Page 10 | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011 May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 11

With over 70,000 photos stored on my computer, finding a particular photo when I want it has become more than a little difficult. So in April, I decided to ‘activate’ the facial recognition software in my computer’s photography software.

I use Google’s Picasa to organize and view my photos. Given that it’s a free program, I didn’t expect its facial recognition capabilities to be at a “professional” level but anything, I reasoned, would be better than spending five hours scrolling through tens of thousands of photos looking for what I need.

At first it was kind of fun. Picasa would scroll through faces and ask me the names of those it picked out. It quickly became irritating, of course, as I found myself struggling to remember people’s names. “Oh,” I would say as a face came up. “That’s, um... aargh! It’s the mother of that kid who was in Dustin’s class in school, um.... darn it!”

If names are the first things to go, I can honestly say that my memory is officially sledding downhill, and picking up speed as it goes.

Nonetheless, I named an awful lot of people and then Picasa went from “who is this?” to “is this ___?”

Picasa wasn’t always correct in its guesses, but more often than not it came up with the right name. And even when it didn’t, most times its guess was a close family member of the person pictured.

“Hmmm,” I found myself wondering. “If I scanned in all the kids’ baby pictures, I wonder if Picasa could tell them apart?”

The answer, if you were wondering, is yes. In fact, Picasa could identify pictures that I wasn’t totally sure of myself. All three of my kids looked an awful lot like each other when they were little, and many times I’ve found I can only identify which is which by the context of the photo. Picasa, it seems, doesn’t have that problem.

Then it got a little scary. On a number of photos, Picasa didn’t even bother asking me anymore whether it was right or not; it just decided it was, and when I checked, the program was correctly identifying an awful lot of people. And doing so despite the fact that some of those photos, to me, didn’t look very much at all like the person they were taken of. Full facial paint, elaborate glasses, facial hair or no facial hair, variations in weight, wigs... none of those items were stopping Picasa from being able to identify the people pictured. The only things that seemed to stump the program were full-face Mardi Gras masks, and the pig noses the Keokee team wore one year for the adult spelling bee. (And the pig noses didn’t stop it for long.)

So how does this work? In two dimensions (like in a typical

photograph) each face has certain characteristics that can be measured: the distance between the eyes, the width of the nose, the length of the jawline, the shape of cheekbones and the depth of the eye socket.

Those measurements are combined to create a measurement called a faceprint.

Three-dimensional software adds to this measurements from areas of the face that don’t change over time, like the curves of the nose, chin and eye sockets.

But that’s not all. Some forms of facial recognition software also measure skin texture. Yes, you read that right, skin texture. A surface texture analysis measures a patch of skin to distinguish lines, pores and actual skin texture. This process, believe it or not, can allow facial recognition software to tell the difference between identical twins.

I don’t know which level of algorithms Picasa uses for matching faces; as a business, I’m guessing they consider that proprietary information. But Google gained this ability when it perched Neven Vision back in 2006, an image recognition technology developed by Nevenengineering, Inc. Neven Vision is generally used by police departments for matching images of people to criminals in their database.

This technology, by the way, is only new to me—it’s been in place in several different applications for many years now, and its use is growing all the time. The popular social networking site Facebook offers an application called Photo Finder to search photos uploaded by yourself or your friends and will suggest “tags” (names) for the photos it finds. Apple’s iPhoto also has face recognition software. These programs are all ‘learning’ programs—that is, as you ‘name’ people in photographs, the software becomes better and better at finding those faces in photographs that have not yet been tagged.

It’s estimated that on Facebook alone, 2.5 billion photographs are uploaded every month, and Facebook represents only a small amount of the photographs stored online.

Which begins to beg some very serious privacy issues. Facebook claims ownership of all photos you upload to it, rendering moot any complaints about an expectation of privacy for your photos. Google (which owns Picasa along with a bunch of other stuff), has a similar policy that takes away some of your rights to the photographs you upload to its services. Do we even know what the TSA is doing with all those body scans? Supposedly they don’t keep them but last August, the U.S. Marshal’s Service in Orlando, Florida was busted for doing just that.

And that’s just photographs. You don’t have to be a libertarian to start feeling a little nervous about the amount of information about you that’s now available to those with the skills to access it.

Google search tracks every web page you visit, regardless of how you’ve set your browser history. The Medical Information Bureau maintains a database on any person who has applied for life, health or disability insurance, or who has received benefits from subscribing companies, for the last seven years. School districts (well, at least one of them) have spied on students at home via the webcam on their laptops. WalMart is embedding radio tracking tags (RFID tags) in the underwear and jeans they sell, in order to track the path a consumer takes through the store. Our neighbors in Washington are issuing driver’s licenses that contain RFID tags with unique ID tags.

And then we learn that Apple’s iPhone and iPad is storing information about every place you’ve been with either device; the information includes a time stamp and the GPS coordinates.

I started out trying to save some time in identifying photos, and by the time I was done, I felt like we’re all living in Minority Report.

Now I’m looking for one of those “bloat-up-your-face-so-it’s unrecognizable” gadgets like Tom Cruise had in the movie, Hopefully it won’t have an RFID tag implanted in it.

Privacy in the age of Picasa Politically Incorrectby Trish Gannon

Trish [email protected]

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Page 12 | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011

Okay Guys and Gals, this month’s article is going to be a combination Civics lesson—a course that apparently has not been taught anywhere for many years—and a cautionary tale about the hazards of actually getting what you wish for. Firstly let me say that having returned from the sunny north coast of the Yucatan Peninsula—apparently about a month too soon—to North Idaho I’m starting to think that we will never see the sun again. The moss on my roof is turning that deep, intense green one only sees in the primeval forests of the Olympic Peninsula.

As some of you might remember I’ve been tracking several bills that will have—if enacted into law—a profound effect on veterans and their families. All of these bills were introduced within the first few weeks of the 112th Congress convening. All were assigned to appropriate committees shortly after introduction and to date none of them have come out of committee. I repeat, none of them! As of the May issue arriving on the newsstands Congress will have been in session for 126 days. Of that 126 days the House of Representatives will have taken 44 days off (this number excludes Saturdays and Sundays so let’s add 35 more days of non-production!). If my math is correct I find that of the 126 days Congress has been officially in session our elected Representatives have spent a total of 47 days actually involved with the Peoples Business.

A cursory examination of what the House has been working on during those 47 days reveals that almost none of it has been for the majority of the American People. They have passed a budget proposal that eviscerates Medicare for everyone under 55 while reducing the taxes on the wealthiest 2 percent an additional 10 percent. Immediately after convening the House session the GOP majority, as part of the housekeeping stuff that occurs whenever there is a change of majority in the House, eliminated the ‘Gephardt Rule.’ The Gephardt Rule has been in place since 1979. What is the Gephardt Rule you ask? Well, it was a continuing resolution that allowed the National Debt ceiling to rise without a standalone vote. The National Debt ceiling was allowed to rise to whatever the latest projection said it would be. In 1995 the GOP majority refused to act on this rule as a showdown with then President Clinton. The end result of this confrontation was two shutdowns of the government to the detriment of every American.

Why did they do this at this time? I believe that it was so the GOP could make the needed and necessary passage of the debt ceiling a forum for their long-term agenda to reduce the size of government and make radical cuts to those programs that benefit the majority of Americans. Every economist I’ve seen who has commented on this ploy has said it is somewhat akin to playing Russian Roulette with a semi-automatic.

The American and world economy will suffer no matter what the riders the GOP hangs on this bill. There is a real chance that this maneuver will further slow the recovery we so desperately need. None of these machinations have done a thing to create jobs for returning veterans or any other unemployed individual. None of the actions of the GOP controlled House have done a thing to fix our failing infrastructure or

helped people facing foreclosure stay in their homes. The House has instead focused all of its efforts on forcing its myopic fiscal and social views on the totality of the American people.

For their efforts our federal legislators are paid $174,000 per year—more if they are in leadership positions—plus perks and benefits. By my count that means we have paid them $60,065.75 for 47 days of unproductive work. Assuming an eight hour work day that is $1597.75/hour! Will someone please explain to me how they have earned this? Is it any wonder that 75 percent of those polled recently say that they disapprove of the 112th Congress?

Earlier I said that I would comment on a cautionary tale of getting what we wish for. Here’s some food for thought. In November we Idahoans elected Raul Labrador our Representative for District 1. He won with 51 percent of the total vote but only 58 percent of registered voters even bothered going to the polls. He defeated first term Representative W. Minnick by over 25,000 votes. Minnick was a staunch, solid supporter of veteran’s benefits and was himself a veteran. Labrador is another lawyer who has never done day one of military service but he did have an (R)

after his name on the ballot. Labrador has no history of and—apparently—no interest in veteran’s affairs.

This pattern of voting for those candidates advocating for smaller government and lower taxes was followed throughout the country. The GOP now has a 49 seat majority in the House of Representatives. But, and here’s the point I’m making, there are 7 percent fewer veterans in the House. That leads me to believe that the party that touts itself on being the “Party Strong On Defense” is a little shy on any actual veterans. It takes a veteran to understand the problems and obstacles that our military face on a day-to-day basis. It is my opinion that only those who have served can fully comprehend the challenges veterans face when they transition back to ‘civilian life’—especially after seeing combat. There is a world of difference between watching ‘Rambo’ and having the guy next to you disappear in a cloud of smoke and dust.

I believe that until such time as we get more people elected that actually understand the differences between normal civilian life and the military we veterans will continue to be low on the totem pole of fiscal priorities. As a career non-commissioned officer I may be biased, but I would like to see more enlisted elected than officers. Enlisted people seem to be more ‘results orientated.’

Until next month—think Summer!

Veterans’ NewsVeterans low on the totem pole Gil Beyer, ETC USN Ret.

[email protected]

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The Sandpoint Disabled American Veterans Chapter #15 would like to take this opportunity to thank these local community volunteers for driving area veterans to and from the Spokane VA to their medical appointments:

Mike Trenholm, Keith Nicksoh, Robert Wynhausen, Tim Tremble and Steve Duffy of Sandpoint, Don Carr of Priest River, Robert Able of Noxon, Ray Kemp and Louis Beebe of Clark Fork, and Gene Groseclose of Kootenai.

Please take a moment and thank these men and be sure and smile and wave the next time you see your local DAV Volunteer Van driving through the area.

Page 12 | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011 May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 1�

According to our editorial schedule, it’s my turn to rant about something, so let’s talk about—cue the French horns—wolves.

If you don’t get the connection, listen to the classic Soviet-era Russian children’s symphony, Peter and the Wolf (Petya i volk). Sergei Prokofiev’s beautiful work represents various characters by different themes and instruments. Peter is personified by strings, the duck (whom the wolf swallows whole and alive) by an oboe, Grandfather by a bassoon and the wolf by French horns.

The wolf representation by French horns in a communist symphony may seem to certain groups more proof that the critters in question have no place in the United States except in zoos, which is where Peter’s wolf ends up. If this seems ridiculous, consider the argument that wolves, reintroduced 16 years ago along the Continental Divide in the United States, came from Canada, so should be eradicated because they are a non-native species.

Let’s run that out to its (more) logical extreme. Since the wolf was here a long time before the first humans crossed the land bridge from Siberia—oh, my God, more Russians—humans should be eradicated from the Americas because we are a non-native species.

In January of 1996, the gray wolf came back to Yellowstone in cages. These first transplants were trapped in the Mackenzie Valley of the Canadian Rockies and turned loose to fend for themselves in the Park 70 years after the last wolf in the Park was killed in 1926. Since then, the wolves have moved back into their normal place as top-of-the-food-chain predators, and anti-wolf and pro-wolf rhetoric has moved to the top of our national propensity for media hysteria.

The wolf has always been a powerful figure in mythology, from Native American tales to Little Red Riding Hood to Hector Munro’s “The Interlopers.” Canis Lupus is portrayed most often by Western European culture as big and bad. And, evidently, omnipresent. No matter what happens to elk

populations, whether it rises, falls or stays the same, it’s the wolf’s doing—depending on who’s telling the story.

Certain hunting groups rail against the wolf for ruining the hunting, and still point to—and take credit for—a 44 percent increase in elk populations between 1984 and 2009. On the other side

of the question are those who disdain the wolf hunts of Montana and Idaho in recent years as inhumane or criminal, throwing out emotion-laden rhetoric that demonizes hunting, which is not the point at all. When you move out of the purely emotional aspect of the wolf question from either fringe, it follows that if we are going to manage any successful species by hunting—prey or non-prey—then hunting wolves in a sensible and sustainable way, as we do elk and deer, is a logical extension of reintroduction. Those who advocated for and brought the wolf back from extinction in the lower 48 were aimed in this direction whether they were thinking that far ahead or not.

Those who advocate a return of the wolf to near-extinct, and stand with their ears covered shouting “the only good wolf is a dead wolf,” make themselves appear craven and ignorant. They might get educated, and not by the word of the special interests. Assertions that wolves are ruining the hunting and causing the livestock industry grief unheard of before 1996 are patently untrue. Wolf predation counts for less than 1 percent of cattle losses and less than 3 percent of sheep losses. As far as ruining the hunting, it is good to remember that wolves—and any other predators—aren’t after the biggest bull or the healthiest cow or calf. They don’t hunt horns. They hunt the laggers, stragglers,

weak and old. Wolves don’t invest ego in the hunt. By their nature and the way they hunt, they improve the herd. If anyone is ruining the hunting, it might be hunters who insist on taking the most prime animal they can kill by whatever means necessary.

I have a picture of my grandmother taken in 1910 in Yellowstone Park, a decade and a half before the last wolf was killed there. She is standing dwarfed and enwrapped in the cradle of a huge elk rack, bleached and aged by Yellowstone winters, the likes of which hasn’t been taken by a hunter—or a wolf—in the West for a long, long time. That elk lived and died in a system that included wolves as part of the mix, as well as grizzly bears, coyotes, big cats and, yes, humans.

It wasn’t wolves that wiped out the bison or chased the elk from the plains into the mountains. It was humans with superior weaponry and no sense of self control. We, who are so concerned with the populations of other species on this planet, might better be about learning to control our own. Our part in the symphony is no more— or less—important than any other.

A symphony of wolvesThe Scenic Route

by Sandy Compton

Sandy [email protected]

1211 Michigan, Sandpoint 208.265.2500 800.338.9835

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Page 1� | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011

Arching her back, Tessa Anne pushes her bow-covered head against my upper arm. For seven days now, I have witnessed again the miracle of new life. For seven days, I’ve had the joy of holding my granddaughter, the first girl in our family in three generations. The happiness has been absolutely electric for a family spread across the United States!

Gazing into the eyes of a newborn in Montana, it is impossible not to ponder the future—both hers and mine. Will she hike mountains? Will she ride horses? Will she know peace? And, how will I accompany her in the years ahead? How long can I bend to play blocks and do puzzles on the floor? Will I be present to watch her graduate from high school, college? Or, witness her marriage? What of me and my spirit will I share with her that will help shape her mind and soul?

This reflecting on one’s own future is tricky stuff. A modern sage has written, “The function of the future must be, then, not simply the achievement of the goals and

dreams of the present. The function of the future is to keep us growing beyond our own small designs for ourselves in the present.”

“…to keep us growing beyond our own small designs for ourselves…” That is the challenge isn’t it? We each carry the baggage of our past into the living room of our present. And, we keep tripping over these suitcases of baggage as we go about our today, and certainly as we ponder our tomorrow. This baggage affects our belief in the Divine, our daily relationships, the work we do, our political outlook… and perhaps most of all our willingness to be someone different than who we are today.

In my faith walk, I have always been struck by the wisdom of the Old Testament text, “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43: 18 -19)

So, is there something in the birth of this child and the pondering of her future that has the power to reshape my future? Can her newness and her future dreams be enough to call me to new ways of living as well?

Of course there are the practical answers: exercise more, lower my cholesterol, ski safely on the mountain. And then, there are the broader answers. How long will I “work” before I create more space in my life for this growing family? Will I follow my own remaining dreams and become a “happier” grandparent for her to know? And, which of these dreams are a part of God’s plan for my life versus ideas emerging from my own ego?

So this day, I sit with Tessa Anne cradled in my arms and ponder the future. Her steel blue eyes examine my face once more, and then she drifts off again into sleep. This is the gift. This is the joy. It is time for me to let the future be God’s. As the 19th century preacher, Henry Ward Beecher, reminds us, “You are only sure of today; do not let yourself be cheated out of it.”

On the futureClark Fork Baptist Church

Main & Second • Clark Fork

Sunday School............9:45 amMorning Worship............11 amEvening Service...............6 pmWednesday Service.........7 pm

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Page 1� | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011 May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 15

FilesFromThE of The River Journal’s

SurrealisT Research BureaUThe Emperor of America

by Jody Forest

In 1859, an unknown, young and failing San Franciscan businessman named Joshua Norton attempted to corner the market on rice after hearing of a famine in China. He lost everything he owned when a large shipment of Peruvian rice arrived in port unexpectedly, making his investments worthless overnight. This apparently unbalanced him enough that he declared himself Emperor of the United States (he later would add “and Protector of Mexico”) and for the next 20 years ‘til his death, he wandered the streets in full regalia, inspecting his domain. In January 1880 he collapsed on a street corner and died. Nearly 30,000 marched in homage to bury him and writers such as Mark Twain and Robert Louis Stevenson would eulogize his memory.

Before then he wrote a large number of proclamations, all of which were duly published in the state’s newspapers. In 1869 for instance he, “being desirous of allaying the dissensions of party strife now existing within our realm,” abolished both the Republican and Democratic Parties. Another edict was instructions for the countries of the world to form a “League of Nations.” Perhaps his

most famous decree was an order directing the San Francisco Board of Supervisors to begin construction of a suspension bridge across the bay as well as a tunnel, both of which were actually completed 50 and 80 years (respectively) after his death (no thanks to Norton).

Much beloved by his fellow citizens, Norton I paraded frequently through the

streets in elaborate blue uniforms with gold epaulets given to him by officers of the nearby Presidio with a beaver hat decorated with peacock feathers. Although routinely broke he ate at the best cafes in town; these restaurateurs then added brass plates above their doors proclaiming “By Appointment to His Imperial Majesty Norton I of The United States.” The brass plaques were much sought after and a huge boost to trade. One police officer in 1867 arrested Norton and tried to have him committed but this led to a number of blistering editorials in the newspapers and led to the police chief ordering him released and issuing him a formal apology. Norton then magnanimously granted an “imperial pardon” to the young police officer and as a result, all police officers in San Francisco thereafter would salute him in passing.

The 1870 U.S. Census records list Joshua Norton as 50 years of age and his occupation is given as “Emperor.” Norton I would also issue his own money to pay certain debts, typically ranging from 50 cents to $10 and these notes are now highly coveted collectors’ items. He also wrote numerous letters to the widowed Queen Victoria (none were ever answered) proposing marriage.

When he collapsed on the street and died in 1880 the San Francisco Chronicle published his obituary on its front page under the headline “Le Roi est Mort” (The King is Dead!) and sadly reported, “In the darkness of a moonless night and under a dripping rain, Norton I, by the Grace of God Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, departed this life.” Most city newspapers likewise reported the news on the front pages in banner headlines.

Robert Louis Stevenson’s daughter Isobel, in her autobiography, later recalled him as one of the kindest and gentlest men she’d ever known and since his death he’s been reborn as one of the patron saints of the modern day religion of Discordianism (“some men understand Einstein, no man understands Emperor Norton!”). (Discordianism, Grid knows, is far too simple and complex to get into here, but perhaps in a future article?)

‘til next time, Long live Emperor Norton and All Homage to Xena!

The photo of “Emperor Norton,” above, is in the public domain and is made available through Wikimedia Commons.

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Page 1� | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011

Lakeview Funeral Home, Sandpoint, Idaho.

Get complete obituaries online at www.LakeviewFuneral.org

Coffelt Funeral Home, Sandpoint, Idaho.

Get complete obituaries online at www.CoffeltFuneral.com

October 26, 1942 - April 11, 2011. Born Miami, Okla. Married Doug Peterson, moved to Elmira, Idaho in 1980. Known for her generosity, contagious smile and loving hugs. Mother of two.

BARBARA ANN SMITH PETERSON

May 18, 1953 - April 11, 2011. Born Spokane, Wash., graduate Bonners Ferry HS class of ‘72. Married Bruce Whittaker. Suffered a stroke at a young age which left her disabled. Moved to Sandpoint in 2000. Mother of one.

BARBARA JO FAIL WHITTAKER

June 30, 1952 - April 17, 2011. Hope Ann Woodby, 58, of Sagle, passed away Sunday, April 17, 2011 at Life Care Center of Sandpoint. Private services will be conducted at a later time.

HOPE ANN WOODBY

April 21, 1924 - April 24, 2011. Martha Jean Liotta, 87, of Sandpoint, former Hope resident died Sunday, April 24, 2011 at Life Care of Sandpoint. Private family services will be held at a later time.

MARTHA JEAN LIOTTA

August 16, 1927 - April 27, 2011. Robert G. “Bob” Kalb, 83, life time Sandpoint resident and long time businessman, passed away, Wednesday, April 27, 2011 in Libby, Mont.

ROBERT G “BOB” KALB

November 22, 1914 - April 25, 2011. Born Rockford, Wash., attended Kinman’s Business College in Spokane. Married Charles McNearny (div) and they lived throughout the Northwest. Lived in Sandpoint since ‘56; worked at Sears

until retirement at 70. Mother of four.

ANGELINE D JAHNS MCNEARNY

February 20, 1937 - April 16, 2011. Married DeEtte Sterns. Father of three.

GERALD QUENTIN SYTH

December 13, 1940 - April 8, 2011. Born Newcastle, Penn., Moved to California in 1950, Priest River in 1981 and Sagle in ‘06. Married Richard Dagnall (wid), Kenneth Bromage (wid) and Robert Thompson.

Worked in real estate, was an accountant, and was at the Sagle Flea Market for 16 years. Mother of two.

VERA “DOLLY” DARLENE HOLZHAUSER BROMAGE

February 20, 1931 - April 17, 2011. Born Ft. Worth, Texas, married Charles Wright. Celebrated 50 years together. Moved to Bonners Ferry in ‘91, co-owner of Savory’s Stir Fry and Unique Used Furniture in Sandpoint. Accomplished illustrator, writer and poet. Mother of three.

DELORES “DEE” ROBLEY WRIGHT

May 18, 1925 - April 24, 2011. Born Tremonton, Utah. Joined the U.S. Navy. Managed a weather station

and worked as a guide in Alaska and for Fish and Game. Moved to Calif. worked as exec. VP for Watts-Western. Married

Marilyn Griffin. In 1977 moved to Hope and to Sagle in ‘96. Father of three.

HAROLD “HAL” LAVELL GRIFFIN

June 29, 1932 - April 9, 2011. Born St. Maries, Idaho, graduated Hill Military Academy, served in

Korea. Married LaVonne Vance, worked for Boeing, owned and or managed several businesses. Moved to Ponderay in ‘94. Active in the community. Father of three.

JOHN A. HUNT

March 12, 1936 - April 13, 2011. Born Cleveland, Ohio. Married Thomas Bobik. worked as a draftsman in California. Married Thomas Cooper and worked as a bookkeeper. Moved to Clark Fork, Idaho in 1998. Mother of three.

ELEANOR MARIA “ELLIE” BECERRA COOPER

January 11, 1972 - April 16, 2011. Born Olympia, Wash., moved to sandpoint, Idaho ‘78, graduated SHS class of ‘90. Earned AS in opthalmology, Spokane Community College, married Steve O’Donnell 2001, mother of 3. Operated

a home-based craft business, was living in Boise.

SHANA LEE GLAHE O’DONNELL

February 3, 1925 - March 31, 2011. Born Red Oak, Iowa, served U.S. Army 82nd Airborne, WWII,

awarded Purple Heart. Married Marjorie Herrick, managed pole yards, retired in Sandpoint 1992. Managed Bonner Community Food Bank for 6 years,

married Marie Wilkinson, lived in Sagle.

LELAND LLOYD

July 19, 1920 - April 5, 2011. Born Cranbrook, BC Canada, served in the Canadian Army, WWII, ran

a pack string and worked as a miner, married Elsa Carlson. opened a ski shop. In 1963 moved to Sandpoint to manage Schweitzer Basin for 14 years, managed Mt. Spokane ‘til ‘92. Wrote

“The Ski Race,” volunteered with Search and Rescue. Father of one.

SAMUEL WORMINGTON

January 24, 1925 - April 10, 2011. Born Boston, Mass. Served in the US Coast Guard 30 years, installed navigation towers all

over the world. Married Stella and then Patricia, raising two famlies. Married Eileen Aheimer in ‘84. Father of four.

CMDR. JAMES A. BLAKE (RET.) USCGFebruary 16, 1922 - April 5, 2011. Born Graft, Colo, attended Gordon Bible College. Married Warren Pomeroy (wid), lived in Eureka and Kalispell. Moved to Sandpoint in ‘72, worked as a waitress and dietary aide. Married Frederick Hames (wid). Mother of four.

NINA ELLA CAMPBELL POMEROY-HAMES

April 3, 1959 - April 5, 2011. Born Cleveland, Ohio. A musical historian and big Beatles fan. Moved to Bonners Ferry in 1979.

TOD MICHAEL ELLIOTT

November 7, 1921 - April 2, 2011. Born Dixon, Ill, finished schooling in Sandpoint. Married Carl Reed. Commercial fisherman on Lake Pend Oreille and worked in housekepeing at Bonner General Hospital. Mother of four.

FRANCIS LOUISE RUPPERT REED

April 27, 1933 - April 4, 2011. Born Cincinnati, Ohio, served in the Navy SeaBees. Built custom

wooden boats. Moved to Sandpoint in 1967. Married Sandra. Father of three.

GORDON FRANCIS GLEASON

May 2, 1942 - April 29, 2011 Charles Henry Kramer, 68, of Sandpoint, died Friday, April 29, 2011 at Valley Vista Care Center. Private family services will be held at a later time.

CHARLES HENRY KRAMER

December 15, 1931 - April 26, 2011. Born Munhall, Penn. Attended Univ. of Chicago and graduated Pritzger

School of Medicine. Married Natalie Allen. Served USAFMC, dispensary commander and flight surgeon. Retired as chairman of Neuro-Psych Dept. at

Travis AFB. Opened a private psychiatric practice, then joined the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. Moved to Sandpoint in ‘81, retired in ‘95. Father of seven.

THOMAS FREW EDNIE

July 25, 1955 - April 12, 2011. Born Vancouver, Wash. Served in the US Army in Vietnam. Married Arnold Posey. Lived in

Ohio and Portland, moved to Sandpoint in ‘97. Worked at Wal-Mart; moved to

Bonners Ferry after retirement. Mother of five.

JANET LIND CARR POSEY

January 29, 1966 - April 15, 2011. Born Burbank, Calif. Member Local 501 Operating Engineers. Married Lisa Haley. Moved to Sandpoint in 2004. Worked for Quest Aircraft. Active coach, father of 3.

DENNIS KENT HOOPER

April 18, 1922 - April 15, 2011. Born Elgin, Neb. Moved to Hope in 1935, graduated high school in 1939. Owned and operated a tavern in Colburn, retired and moved to the Northside area. Married Walt Morgan., moved to Sandpoint in ‘87. Mother of 4.

BERYL ANN BENNETT MORGAN

February 11, 1935 - April 9, 2011. Born Elgin, Ill. Moved to Calif., married Brian Ross. Moved to Sagle in 2001. Mother of one.

JANE LEE KIRK ROSS

October 11, 1962 - April 5, 2011. A Sandpoint High School graduate who served in the Idaho National Guard. A loving and generous father

of two.

DWAYNE CURTIS LUND

May 15, 1946 - April 11, 2011. Born Kellogg, Idaho. Moved to Priest River in ‘96. Worked as a trucker and was an avid fisherman. Father of two.

ALFRED GARY RAMMLER

May 4, 1927 - April 16, 2011. Born Yakima, Wash. Served in the Merchant Marines and the US Army.

Worked 22 years for Seattle PD, retired and worked 18 years as a supervisor for Seattle Crime Lab. Married Robin Bussoletti, moved to Bonners Ferry in

2005. Father of five.

FRANK ROSS LEE

Cloverdale Funeral Home, Boise, Idaho

Get complete obituaries online at www.CloverdaleFuneralHome.com

Page 1� | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011 May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 1�

It is the first of May. I can’t help but think of spring with plans for outdoor projects, outings and events. Spring is dominating my thoughts.

Last week it snowed every day, and it might later this week too.

I couldn’t help but laugh. Friends say they are tired of winter and are getting mad at the way it is lingering on. I can’t get mad enough to change anything—so I laugh. Laughing is more fun.

May offers many opportunities to laugh or at least enjoy fond memories and remembrances. Mother’s Day and Memorial Day are integral holidays filled with these opportunities.

Over the last several months, I have witnessed wonderful mother’s love. Linda, my wife, is a new grandmother but I also watched her be a mom. Last December, two weeks before our granddaughter was due, Linda traveled to Hawaii to be with her daughter Ana. The time was warm and wonderful for them both. Ana’s husband, Noah, was underway on the submarine USS Hawaii and didn’t get home until February. So in the last days of Ana’s first pregnancy her mom was there sharing the experience, both physical and emotional.

There were times, in the middle of a sleepless night, when Ana went in and sat on the edge of her mom’s bed. There in the dark they talked—a mom and her daughter—about being a mom and a daughter. During the days together, they put the last touches on the nursery and the rest of the home.

Finally it was a tired, excited, loving mom who drove Ana to the hospital and then supported her own little girl as she gave birth to another little girl. Linda knew she could never replace Noah’s presence as supporting husband and father; she only intended to be a mom.

Linda stayed with Ana and Alice for the first couple of weeks after the birth, being present as Ana adjusted to her new life. Once

again, in the middle of the night, Ana and Mom would connect. Linda would sometimes sleep in the baby’s room, change Alice when she woke up and take her to Ana to nurse and snuggle on her bed while they renewed and

created lifetime bonds, future memories.Mother’s day has a whole different

meaning for me after watching one young lady become a loving mother for the first time while another joyously accepts the role of mother and grandmother.

Warmhearted memories are an important part of May. Another day that generates memories is Memorial Day. Granted, we tend to think of it as a solemn day, yet many memorials are celebrations with joy-filled stories.

Recently I learned of the death of a mentor of mine. He was a college instructor I only worked closely with for two years; still, I think of him often. A theatre instructor who taught me so much more, from him I learned how to think. Not what to think, but how.

Bob Clapp was a true intellectual but not a braggart. I felt he was constantly trying to satiate an insatiable curiosity. It was a pursuit driven by a desire to learn simply for the satisfaction and excitement of learning. For me he was able to share and nurture that love to explore all of my curiosities no matter where they took me. I thought of him often as

I pursued the art of performance. Finally, it was my curiosity, which he had so carefully cultivated, that took me away from the theatre into different studies and disciplines. What I learned from him is with me as I attempt to satiate my own insatiable curiosity.

Recently the theatre Bob worked in and ran for several years was named The Bob Clapp Theatre. I attended the dedication, which was somewhat of a memorial.

As often happens when actors get together the talk, and usually laughter, is about what went wrong. So there again was laughter—mixed with some tears. There was deep appreciation for Bob Clapp and all he gave to so many people, a friend who, through memories, is still giving to people.

May is filled with opportunities for celebrating memory-making events, present and past that keep relationships and love flowing. It is a reminder of the cycles of life with beginnings, endings and everything in between, It is the flow of life and love which is unbroken.

This year May seems to be having some difficulty wrestling spring out of winter, to make that ending for a new being. Yet we know, soon, it will also be another memory.

Ernie [email protected]

May and making memories The Hawk’s Nestby Ernie Hawks

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THURSDAY, MAY 19• Rock ‘n Roll Heaven, 7 pm, Sandpoint’s Panida Theater

FRIDAY, MAY 20• Vintage Car Parade, 6 pm, downtown Sandpoint• Street Dance, after parade, Town Square• Show and Dance, 7:30 pm, Bonner County Fairgrounds

SATURDAY, MAY 21• Car Show, 9:30 am-3:45 pm, downtown Sandpoint• Show and Dance, 7:30 pm, Bonner County Fairgrounds

SUNDAY, MAY 16• Aspirin Rally Run, 10 am, Second Ave. Pizza• Car Rally, 11:30 am, Second Ave. Pizza

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Page 18 | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011

It’s spring in the great Northwest. I know, I know what you’re saying but according to the calendar, it’s supposed to be spring. Just ignore the snow and we will assume it’s spring.

Titsi McGillas, the bartender over at the Dirty Shame Bar and Grill (formerly known as the “Tub a’ Guts”) decided it was close enough to spring for her husband, the ex-prize fighter, to clean out the woodshed and the den of pack rats that has been smelling up the place all winter.

Dizzy, as his friends called him because he had taken too many to the head, will sometimes catch you off guard when he ducks his head and yells. “Boy, a flock of ’em went over that time,” he will say, looking up into an empty sky, causing people who don’t know him to search the sky for a flock of birds. Kids who pass him on the street will point down at the ground and yell, “Snake!” just to see how high he will jump, all the time knowing there aren’t any snakes around here. Okay, maybe a little garden snake or two, but nothing poisonous.

At any rate, this morning found Dizzy out in the woodshed raking up chips and bark to be hauled out back to be burnt. The few sticks of firewood left over he tossed up against the back wall to start next winter’s firewood collection. With each stick of wood that bounced off the

back wall a large roar would erupt from within its framework. Dizzy would

stop and look up, listen for a minute, and

continue on raking and loading his

wheelbarrow, thinking the

b u z z i n g sound

was just another addition to the many sounds already being created within his head. It wasn’t until he pushed his loaded wheelbarrow around the corner of the woodshed that he discovered what was making all that buzzing sound.

It was Mrs. Abernackie who first noticed the commotion while hanging her clean,

washed knickers on the clothesline. A wheelbarrow full of tree bark and chips went through her yard, taking her clothesline with it.

Dizzy, with his head looking like someone had beat him with a sugar sack full of

golf balls, was close behind with a hive of bees in hot pursuit. It was discovered later

that a hive of bees had moved into the back wall of the woodshed, using a knot hole to enter, and Dizzy had been disturbing them by tossing firewood up against the wall. And by the time he walked around the side of the shed pushing his wheelbarrow, the whole hive was up in arms

and looking for someone to take it out on.

Two loafers who had been hanging around on the porch at the Mercantile saw Dizzy streak by with a dark cloud following close behind. They pursued, and caught up with Dizzy down at the river where he had jumped in to save hisself from the bees. They led him back home as his eyes were swollen shut from the bee stings as well as his ears and he kept slapping his head thinking now that all that buzzing he heard was bees inside his head.

When Titsi got a hold of him she knew she had to do something to stop the swelling and

alleviate the pain. She grabbed a bottle of rub that fighters used to relieve pain; this in turn set Dizzy’s head on fire because

its base was Everclear. Banking off of three walls before he hit the kitchen door, Dizzy found the sink and a source of cold water to help wash away the burning sensation on his head.

Word soon spread about the bees in Titsi’s woodshed. Lefty, Titsi’s brother who lived up the river, got wind of the bee problem and came up with a solution.

“Sis,” he said, “me and Heavy Anvil will rob that bee hive in your shed, capture the bees and take their honey. It’s just that simple.

“First, we’ll build a box the size of a bee hive, then nail it over the knot hole, go inside and cut a hole down at the bottom of the wall, stuff it with old rags and set fire to ’em. The smoke from the rags will move the bees up and out and into the beehive. Then we close its opening and taa dah! We have a hive of bees and all we have to do is open up the back wall and expose all that honey.”

Never before had anything worked so smoothly for Lefty. Late that afternoon, with the new hive in place, Lefty and Heavy found themselves smoking the bees up the wall and into their new home from a small hole they had cut inside the woodshed near the floor. Waiting until morning to collect their prize, Lefty and Heavy showed up at daylight with buckets to be filled with honey. They walked around the corner of the woodshed just in time to see a large black bear lumbering off up the alley with his belly full of honey. The back of the woodshed was in splinters, along with the new bee hive.

It was said by those who witnessed the race from the porch of the Mercantile that Heavy Anvil was in front of Lefty when they went by the store and they gave age not weight to be the factor. That, along with the fact that most of the bees were on Heavy. With the back of the woodshed torn open leaving room for a draft to suck in, the smoldering rags soon started a fire, eliminating any need for Dizzy to clean out the wood shed.

Now, I’d best get off this computer and head outside to see what kind of spring cleaning Lovey has for me to do.

Boots Reynolds

From the Mouth of the River

Page 18 | The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| May 2011 May 2011| The River Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol. 20 No. 5| Page 19

Maybe it was the attitude, maybe the altitude, or maybe both, but near-death experiences were what shaped your character in my little corner of the Rockies. Coming of age on the Yellowstone plateau in the 60s enlisted a heady mix of demands, threats, pleasures, possibilities, choices, influences and, of course, pimples. That last one was the only one that didn’t try to kill me at some point along the way.

As a kid I had so many opportunities to get the grim reaper’s autograph that I was beginning to think he wanted to be friends or something, like a cat in a good mood when it finds a cute little mouse out in the open.

My first introduction came on a firewood run with my ol’ man, older brothers and some old logger with an antique Ford flatbed, a chain saw and a big hangover. Dad was being responsible to the point of having us hang out by the truck in the event of a miscalculation and instructed us to get under it if we heard any sudden foul language. Which we did as this was where the first miscalculation landed, giving my dad a view he wouldn’t soon forget of all three of his kids diving for cover under a ’31 2-ton Ford as an 80’ red fir drew a bead on the engine compartment, driving its tired old flathead squarely into the roadbed along with the front axle.

All’s I remember is it was dark, then it was light, then dark again as the rear end came back to earth over me and my siblings. I felt something slap me on the butt. It was either a mud flap or that dude in the black cloak. I didn’t even open my eyes until I was pulled out from under and noticed there weren’t any mud flaps. My first contact with the man!

I met him again the very next summer, or rather, I felt his breath. Here again, my dad was involved as he hauled us all out on Targee flats to watch Montana Department of Chuck Holes and Caustic Chemicals use a sizeable pile of dynamite to straighten out ‘Dead Man’s Curve’

at the bottom of the ‘Atlantic’ side of the pass into Idaho. We were parked what everyone determined was a safe distance away (maybe had ‘We’ known just how much TNT was involved…) and were all fairly impressed when we saw that hillside blossom upward. After I blurted out “Gosh,” “Wow,” and “Holy SHMOKES,” I turned to repeat myself to a friend standing next to me when I felt that breath rustle my hair. It was from a rock the size of a softball which would have ‘line bored’ me from head to toe had I been differently positioned. I looked wide-eyed again at my friend whose color resembled fresh linen as he stared open-jawed at the ground and the man-made meteor between us. He felt that breath too. The adrenalin that bubbled up sat there unused like a lit firecracker you don’t know quite what to do with. I was nine and that was strike two.

Once you have a life, you start to get a ‘time-stands-still’ slide show of it during these little encounters which vastly improves your memory for later on. Also there’s nothing quite like your life passing before your eyes to make you appreciate whatever life you might have left.

Well, as it turns out, I had a long way to go. I graduated high school in ’70 with letters

(four in basketball, two in football and one in track). That year I accumulated four more close encounters and not even a bruise; fill your shorts scary, but requiring no bandages, splints or tourniquets.

From doin’ 150 mph at 1 am on Henry’s Lake flats with 8-foot snow banks and having a semi packing twins emerge out of your side (making life even more memorable), to coming within inches of doing the rumba with a black bear at night while wearing my Yamaha Enduro.

The third brush that summer happened in broad daylight eight miles or so northwest of Ol’ Faithful in what Ralph Nader referred to as a death trap disguised as a ’69 Corvair Monza. Brent, a long-time friend and cohort, and I were following

our noses towards damsels we knew working at the inn. Our minds had made the trip earlier leaving our bodies to fend for themselves.

Brent was driving as we cruised up the Firehole River, simultaneously smiling and sailing around a bend in one of the prettiest little valleys in the park, both of us gawking at buffler instead of the speedometer when a bull moose caught both our attentions. He was big, black and broadside on the dotted line.

As Brent broke wind, I got into the glove box to give him some elbow room.

I crawled out when we quit moving and noticed Brent’s eyebrows had disappeared into his scalp leaving behind two orbs in double exposure. I could also see every one of his teeth! His arms were locked and his pants were loaded. Thick blue smoke slowly drifted around and through the car on its own inertia. I looked through the back window at two perfectly straight black lines with little wisps of rubber ghosts drifting across the pavement.

As fascinating as this was, my eyes followed the thinning blue haze around front where I noticed his expression hadn’t changed a bit. “You see my eyelids anywhere? I need to blink!”

We both peered forward as the smoke cleared away and living color returned to our little world. There before us, well above eye level, appeared a great moose belly, dark and proud. The rest of him eventually came into view, his ‘highness’ looking down at us like we were a couple of tourists or something. If he’d have been canine, he could have lifted a leg and washed our windshield but instead blew a contemptuous wad of watercress and nasal lubricants across it and moseyed off in a way only moose have a knack for.

To this day, burning rubber oddly reminds me of reprieve.

My final near miss of that summer found me behind the wheel of someone else’s jet boat and here again under the protective cover of

Close Encounters on the High LonesomeAs New York bans the game Red Rover for being too dangerous, two Scotts reminisce about the fun and games of life as a youngster in and around West Yellowstone. by Scott Clawson and Scott Hancock

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darkness. You see, I was given the opportunity to show

not only my responsible nature, but also some of my nautical prowess! Somehow I’d left both of these at home that morning and had to make stuff up as I went along. This seemed normal and not all that life threatening.

My cousin Greg, fresh in from “Mi-nee-soda,” just happened to be lucky enough to also be my co-pilot. His lucky stars were shining brightly overhead as we headed for the lights of our home port a couple miles away. At three-quarter throttle we cruised off starboard of the ‘mother ship’ (the boat my mom was in) going in the same general direction. I couldn’t help but notice they were drifting further and further away and blowing their horn in what I took to be a celebratory fashion. Not having a brain to call my own yet, I horned ‘em back exuberantly, happily embracing

my nautical manliness. I truly wish there was film footage of the next

few minutes. A gruesome thought finally managed to sneak

in with all the good times going on between my ears and explained why the other boat was making so much noise. You can see lights over the land from this arm of Hebgen Lake but you can’t get there from here! An epiphany was slowly burning a hole in my happiness, none too soon either.

“Hey Greg, hand me that lantern a minute.” And as he held my beer, I lowered the light over my side and clicked it on. This revealed two things, that ‘quick-time rerun of my life thus far’ (again), and several large boulders right in front of us. I quickly stole a line from “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” and went “SSHHHIIIIII…” And as I enjoyed the high points of my life one more time, I beaned Greg with the lantern and spun the

wheel all in the same glorious instant! Not having time to throttle down landed us high, dry and sideways between two boulders on the only piece of sand my luck would find available.

The mother ship came over and realizing we were still alive and the boat thankfully undamaged we coaxed it back into the water where the owner gratefully took over so I could sit back and savor the moment for exactly what it was…humbling.

I got out of there when I was nineteen but not before it required me to use all available digits (short of removing both shoes) just to recall all the near misses I was fortunate to have been a party to. That was 1971 and my draft number was thirteen.

-Scott Clawson

“Hello, this is Scott.” “So’s this.” Aye God, it was Clawson on the phone, Scott

Clawson, erstwhile writer, make-shift cartoonist, marginal woodworker, overall pain in the… neck.

“Trish Gannon wants us to do an article about the wild west of Yellowstone when we were kids.” Ms. Gannon, another name that evokes “special meaning” in my mind. She edits, publishes and writes for the fire-starter River Journal. The only thing that could have made the phone call worse was the mention of Boots Reynolds. All three are peas in a pod: they’ll stretch the truth like a bad bungee cord and hope it doesn’t snap.

Clawson, to me, is “Blockhead.” For those of us with that noble “long ship” heritage from the fjords and channels of the Norsk Country, it is fitting. He’s sold me wood, worked for me and provided some of the best laughs (at his expense) over the last 25 years. (Ask me about Jim Ford, Clawson and measuring siding.) What can I say? Blockhead is like a puppy, one that while you’re talking to him, he’s all happy, shaky and nice, at the same time piddling on your boots. Our heritage is so close, even in our geographical western rearing, we could be related. A thought I can’t abide. We share commonalities, including the 1959 Hegben Lake earthquake, West Yellowstone, Island Park and grateful memories.

Yellowstone country includes Island Park in Idaho; a thin strip of Yellowstone is in Idaho including the line on the map. Ever wonder who lives on the lines? Or what residency they claim? Two states are a stone’s throw from West Yellowstone, Montana: Idaho and Wyoming, making it the perfect hideaway party town of the 50s, 60s and 70s. “What goes on in West, stays in West.” Sort of.

For the record, Blockhead is funny. Boots Reynolds is funny. I’m not! I prefer to think of myself as “colorful,” and I think others do too, as I have often heard in the background, as I leave a room, “Boy, his language is sure blue.” Hence, colorful.

Younger years in Yellowstone meant BEARS. Yes, grizzly bears! Grizzlies were the accepted consequence of Yellowstone. The grizzlies of yesteryear in West Yellowstone were educated dump bears. These were bears that knew teenage boys—boys with no brains and lots of testosterone. Boys who went to the dump outside of West to watch the grizzlies dig for left-over

steak bones, fish, mashed potatoes, whatever, waste products from the many eateries and nightclubs in West. Boys who threw rocks and hit the bears in the butt and boys who tried to crawl under the seat while a grizzly rocked the ‘54 Mercury that didn’t start when ‘retreat’ was in order. Boys who, hung over from the all nighter, waited outside one early morning eatery, hoping for the doors to open, warmth, coffee, eggs.

“Oh sh*t, Grizzly!” Around the corner at about 5:45 in the morning it comes lumbering out of an alley from garbage patrol. “What now, a human handout or human? What to do? What to do?” I suspect it’s thinking. Bang like hell on the eatery door, the wood sidewalk, the car hood. It worked. The door opened, we catapulted in, closed the door and watched the grizzly stroll by and the Innkeeper exclaim, “That’s Harriet, she’s here every morning same time waiting for anything I throw out the door. Customers love it.” Was she pulling our leg? Never wanted to find out.

I saw my first VW camper bus with the side door rearranged by a grizzly and everything removed, presumably for inspection.

Did I mention Blockhead and I know “Bud Lilly?” I see the yuppies with “Bud Lilly, Fly Shop” apparel and remember him selling us our licenses and saying “try a Garden Hackle.” A worm.

My best friend’s name was Red. Red and another friend would and did do anything, including giving their lives a short time later in Southeast Asia. I tell this story for them.

Red and Gary ‘found’ a couple of sticks of dynamite, caps and fuse somewhere out in the Shotgun Valley of Island Park. Probably from an old stump rancher blowing tree stumps to clear the not-so-fertile soil.

Teenage boys, dynamite, hmmm. Interesting! Turns out, they knew how to set it all up. The first blast was in a gravel pit out in Antelope Valley, by Kilgore. The second, well... we located an old abandoned outhouse with faded lettering saying, U.S.F.-something. So, saying U.S., we figured it was ours. Somehow I knew this was a bad idea.

First of all, the abandoned outhouse still had plenty of groundwater seepage, a fact we soon came to realize. The old adage “what goes up, must come down...” True! Moments after the blast, the boys, the car and the surrounding 100 feet of forest experienced a drizzle of brown rain, mud and wood debris covered with a ’gilded

smell’ unlike anything I had ever smelled before or since. Everything looked as if it had been spray painted through a screen door, including the perpetrators.

Hancock Lake, the Centennial Mountains, Railroad Ranch, Yellowstone, Henry’s Lake, Hebgen, Henry’s Fork of the Snake, the Madison, Buffalo, best troutwaters in the world. We fished tham all. This is a big country that can snow 10” on the 4th of July. It’s high, wind blown, colder than a blue norther and hotter than the “hubs of Hell” but God lives there, or did, before the folks from South of Oregon decided to modernize it and make it look like the Old West. I still go back; it never leaves your blood or psyche and is still magic.

West was the West. It hadn’t changed much from what it was in the early years—a hideout for all those men “going fishing” for a few days. We would run into many a God-fearing Bible thumper from my home town waiting to get into the clubs that had strippers... my guess to bring redemption and the word of God. It was a time of roughnecks, loggers, miners, loners, cowboys, Forest and Park Service folks, tourists, outlaws and entrepreneurs. It was tough, and bar fights spilled out onto the streets. Tempers quelled, the combatants would crawl back into the bar and buy each other drinks. No hard feelings.

A favorite bank fishing spot was over Green Canyon pass to the back Island Park Reservoir. To get to this spot folks drove through swampy high water inlet bottoms, got stuck, pulled each other up impossible inclines for the likes of old Kaiser Frazier cars. Then through a mile of sagebrush pretending to be a road. But we did it, happy to be alive and in the middle of the most god-awful and gorgeous country put on earth.

A lot of old Sourdoughs from the Yukon, too old to make the grade on the gold streams in the far north, moved here to “cash in.” One old Sourdough came rolling into our bank fishing hideaway. I remember his ‘54 Chevy Wagon with fake wood paneling, because our neighbor at home had one of the almost “Woodies.” He set up and cast in about 30 yards from me. I could smell his pipe smoke and thought he looked like a character from Remington Arms calendar. High-top boots, gray droopy mustache and checkered Filson wool jacket. Perfect.

There was a bad habit going around then of some boaters (usually young men) buzzing the bank. Buzzing the bank meant running the

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boat wide open coming into shallow water so the propeller suction would pick up fishing lines and cut them. It happened. Some young guys, bored, decided to liven things up and buzzed the bank. Once. Twice. The third time rocks and swear words started flying, trying to give religion to the boaters in their brand new Scott-Atwater boat and motor, all of 35 to 40 horsepower. The boat looked like a ’59 Plymouth, huge fins, ugliest damn things. The motor stalled, then started, then stalled.

The Sourdough pulled out a blanket-wrapped package I thought to be a longer pole for better casting. Nope, it was an old military Springfield .06 from the big war. “My God, he’s going to kill them!” I thought. He laid across the car hood and the boat motor literally disintegrated. Holy Christ! The boys in the boat used paddles, hands and feet to get the boat around the jetty and out of range. Without a word the old timer wrapped up his rif le, picked up his gear and drove off.

Silence. No one could believe it! But it happened. About an hour and a half later, a Fremont County Sheriff showed up. A man next to me said, “Keep your trap shut!” “Yes sir, Sheriff, we saw him driving an old Dodge or Ford pick-up. Wouldn’t you boys agree?” “Yep. Could a been a Studebaker truck though, but I did see those Utah plates, clearly.”

Roping bobcats and herding mule deer were part of cowboying, along with wrecking into Lionshead Bridge abutment in a ’62 Pontiac convertible. Going through the roof and walking away rounded out a day’s rodeo. It was around the 4th of July. Came across these two right after the wreck looking almost like Glenn Ford and Henry Fonda from the movie “The Rounders.” We took them to town and later on that same day they had a good bar-room brawl over—what else—a damsel in distress. None the worse for wear, they were still “rounding’ when we headed to the old rodeo grounds. Army mummy bags and slumber. Sweet dreams. God it was a Party!

-Scott Hancock

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