Riverjournal oct2015 (w)

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A Newsmagazine Worth Wading Through

It’s Not the Goats Fires Continue to Flare Lions & ‘Coons & Bears October 2015 • FREE

8th Annual

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620 Wellington Place, /VWL 0KHOV ‹

Saturday, October 10

Come learn to paint!

There’s no better time!

Workshops for all skill levels begin at 10 a.m.

Come to paint Paint dawn to dusk.

Show hangs after 4.

Come view the paintings

Show and artists’ reception begin at 7:00

The Paintout Show will continue at Outskirts for the month of October.

Open 10:30 - 2, Wed. & Thurs, 10:30 - 3, Fri. - Sun.

Workshop instructors are Greg Caudell, Aaron Johnson and Alison Barrows Young.

Registration fee is $25, $30 day of the event. To register, send a check to Outskirts Gallery, P.O. Box 1, Hope, ID, 83836

To learn more, call 208-264-5696, write to kallythurman@gmail.com, or visit scotchmanpeak.org/stewardship /events-schedule All sales benefit artists and FSPW

• Oct. 5 – Youth Volleyball Registration Deadline • Oct. 17 – Winter Activity Booklet Distributed in Daily Bee. • Oct. 20 – Winter Activity Booklet available in our office. • Oct. 29 – Bridge for Beginners & Intermediate Bridge Registration Deadline. • Nov. 2 – Custom Woodworking & MIG Welding Registration Deadline. • Nov. 10 – Avalanche Workshop – 2015/2016 forecast. • Nov. 15 – Open Gym Basketball starts. At SHS Gym 3-4:30 (3rd-12th Grade free) 4:30-6pm (adults $2/person) • Nov. 24 – Avalanche Workshop – Beacon Practice and Gear Review. • Nov. 26 – 8th Annual Turkey Trot

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October 2015

A News Magazine Worth Wading Through ~just going with the flow~ P.O. Box 151•Clark Fork, ID 83811 www.Facebook.com/RiverJournal (Webpage under redesign) 208.255.6957 • 208.266.1112 RiverJournalIdaho@gmail.com

STAFF Calm Center of Tranquility Trish Gannon • trishgannon@gmail.com

Ministry of Truth & Propaganda Jody Forest • dgree666@gmail.com

Sales & Other Stuff

THE RIVER JOURNAL • October 2015 •

On the Cover: Scotchman Goats.

Photo by Noelle Phillips (2010) for Friends of Scotchman Peaks.

Below: Cartoonist Matt Davidson

weighs in on the goat “controversy.”

Courtesy Friends of Scotchman Peaks.

6. FIRE SEASON. Things have cooled down in the woods, but if fire season were an opera, the fat lady has yet to sing. by Trish Gannon

David Broughton• 208.290.6577 • davidcbroughton@gmail.com

6. GET YOUR CREATIVE ON. And do it outside, with the annual Plein Air Paint-Out in Hope.

“We are what we repeatedly do.

Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” Aristotle

7. IT’S NOT THE GOATS, IT’S THE GOAT-FEEDERS. The area’s most famous mascots, the Scotchman goats, are getting a bad rap. THE SCENIC ROUTE

Proudly printed at Griffin Publishing in Spokane, Wash.

509.534.3625 Contents of the River Journal are copyright 2015. 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.

8. WHEN WILDLIFE IS UNWELCOME. A dry summer, not to mention fire-destroyed habitat, is sending unwelcome wildlife into town.

Here’s what to do about it.

9. WAR BONDS - TAKE 2. Another try at reviewing this exceptional local book.

10. WHAT HAPPENED TO SEPTEMBER? A non-apology combined with an obituary. POLITICALLY INCORRECT 11. WE’RE ALL IN IT TOGETHER. AC is calling on Parkinson’s patients to build strength in numbers. ALL SHOOK UP

12. LAST WORDS. Gangster Dutch Schultz carries an attraction even after death. SURREALIST RESEARCH BUREAU 13. FACEBOOK MAKES FOR LOUSY POLITICS. David calls for a timeout on political rants shared via social media. THE WAY I SEE IT 14. AO, TE AND A DOG & PONY SHOW. More alphabet soup from the VA but this time it’s a tasty dish.

VETERANS’ NEWS 15. PLAN NOW FOR THE NEXT BAD FIRE SEASON. When you live in the woods, fire happens. You can make your property safer while keeping it beautiful. GET GROWING! 16. AMERICAN DIPPER. Mike says this resident songbird tells us all is well.

A BIRD IN HAND 17. A KAIROS MOMENT. There is a time to every purpose under heaven— and now is the time to face up to climate change. GARY’S FAITH WALK 18. GLAMPING. Ernie and Linda hold back from the full motorhome treatment at Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park. THE HAWK’S NEST 19. DON’T JUST PANIC - PRE-PANIC! When the woods start to blaze, Scott thinks the tough freak out wisely. ACRES N’ PAINS

October 2015

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Fire Season: The “Fat Lady” Still Isn’t Singing

September arrived like a breath of fresh air... literally. For most of August, North Idaho and western Montana looked like Mordor, with invisible mountains, blood red sunshine, and air quality in the danger range even for those who don’t have breathing issues. But a couple of rain storms and cooler temperatures brought a respite from the forest fire-derived smoke that plagued the area, cooling fears of forest flames.

Now, as we go to press, that smoke is back in some places, albeit not quite as heavy, reminding us that fires are still burning and will likely smolder in the forests until a foot or so of snow blankets them for a while. Warm, daytime temperatures combined with wind periodically causes these fires to flame up once again, and area residents should remain cautious and informed about what’s going on in their area.

The fire information number for North Idaho is (208) 765-7383. For

information in Sanders County, call John Head, fire information officer for the Cabinet Ranger District, at (406) 827-3533 (ext. 0738).

When preparing for winter, please remember that fire danger remains fairly high. As the nights dip below freezing, a toasty fire in the wood stove is welcome, and an approved spark arrestor on your chimney is a must.

If you plan to burn yard debris, you might consider delaying that job as long as possible. When you do burn, check first to make sure burn restrictions are not in place, and be sure you have a plentiful water supply handy to keep the fire under control.

Even if there are no fire restrictions, do not burn on a windy day. The “clear area” around your burn pile should equal twice the height of your pile; even better, use a burn barrel with a screen over the top. When burning is completed, thoroughly drench your pile with water, raking

Get Your Creative On - Outside

If you might like having other people tell you that the streaks of color that you’ve made on paper or canvas are breathtakingly beautiful, or just enjoy the wonderful experience of producing a work of art, you should attend the 8th Annual Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness Plein Air Paintout at the Outskirts Gallery in Hope, Idaho.

The FSPW Paintout, on Saturday, October 10, offers optional workshops this year, with Paintout veterans Greg Caudell and Aaron Johnson and Outskirts “artist in residence” Alison Barrows Young, as well as an artfilled day of painting in and around the Scotchman Peaks. The workshops are intended to help anyone, from beginner to long-time painter, increase their skills as an oil or watercolor painter in an outdoor setting—en plein air, or “in the open air.”

En plein air paintings feature a rapid rendition of an object or Page

landscape direcly before the artist.

Their production is largely influenced by constraints on both time and space, so works of art produced en plein air are often strikingly raw and capture an urgency that is hard to find elsewhere.

These paintings show the artists’ ability to quickly determine and depict the essential characteristics of the visual field before them.

Artists and workshop students alike are invited to create to their hearts’ content, painting from “dawn to dusk,” with their resultant works to be hung for a public show and sale at the Outskirts Gallery in the Hope Market.

Hanging of the art begins at 4 and the show opens at 7 pm.

“I’ve been involved in this event since the first year,” says FSPW program coordinator Sandy Compton, “and it’s always a grand time for artists and observers alike. There’s something about the combination of art and the natural world and people who love

through it several times to ensure the water saturates the pile. Then check it frequently over the next several days to ensure that burning hasn’t begun again.

Be aware that if your fire gets out of control and has to be put out by authorities... you are liable for the cost!

Honestly, given the fire season we’ve had, it seems like it would be a good idea to just hold off on the burning.

And I say this with a pile in my back yard that I’ve been waiting to burn since May. Waiting a few more months is not going to hurt.

Before heading into the woods to hunt or hike, please double check on closure areas, and remember that in areas where fire has burned, danger awaits. Beware of ash pits underneath trees, and the potential for falling snags from any tree that shows evidence of burning.

Whether hunting, hiking or cutting firewood, always carry a shovel and bucket in your vehicle—it’s the law during the official fire season, and common sense at all other times. And report the source of any smoke you may see. both that makes for an incredible sense of camaraderie and common purpose at the Paintout.”

Art appreciators are invited to stop by anytime during the day—the Market kitchen opens at 7 am on Saturday— but particularly to come to the evening show, which is an always exciting event as the “fresh” art is revealed to the larger public for the first time.

The workshops start at 10 am, Pacific and are open to all skill levels.

Students are asked to bring their own supplies, including paper, canvas, oils or watercolors, and an easel.

Registration is $25 in advance, or $30 the day of the workshops and show. To register, send a check to The Outskirts Gallery, PO Box 1, Hope, Idaho 83864. For more information, write to kallythurman@gmail.com, call 208264-5696, or go to scotchmanpeaks. org/event/learn-to-paint-better-at-theannual-plein-air-paintout/ Sales of the paintings benefit the artists and the Friends of Scotchman Peaks.

October 2015

• The Scenic Route Sandy Compton • It’s Not the Goats, it’s the Goat-Feeders

When the Forest Service, with the blessing of Idaho Department of Fish and Game — and Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness — closed Scotchman Peak Trail #65 in early September, it got a lot of press attention. In many ways, this is good. Attention needs to be paid to the “mountain goat problem.”

But the focus of the attention is misleading.

Story ledes and headlines have consistently used the term “aggressive goats.” A good — or bad, rather — example is “Aggressive goats force trail closure.” The headline might better read, “Humans who feed goats force trail closure.” It is much closer to the truth. The goats are not so much being aggressive as they are being insistent.

And it’s people who have taught them to be that way.

So, it’s really not a mountain goat problem as much as it is a human problem. In the overall scheme of things, the news stories are pretty well balanced. Most of them point out that the problem is caused by mountain visitors who give goats handouts, many for photo opportunities or the questionable thrill of viewing them “up close and personal.” This has made goats willing to get personal, to the point of licking human appendages for

the salt contained in sweat.

To say this is somewhat dangerous is an understatement. Mountain goats, even those living on a mountain as well-visited as Scotchman Peak, are unpredictable wild animals.

They have a logic dictated by their needs to survive in a place where rarity is an everyday fact of life. That August 17, but fires that started August means goats — especially habituated goats — sometimes don’t play well with 13 usurped the goat closure, and it wasn’t until the fire closure was lifted humans. that the goat closure was put in place.

An incident in late July proved this There is a sign — a very visible sign true — again. A man who allowed a — where the Scotchman Peak trail Scotchman goat to lick his legs for the comes into the rock field that the last salt decided he was done with that half mile of trail traverses to the top. experience and backed away. The The sign says, “Please do not approach, goat wasn’t done, and proved it by feed or harass the goats.” There are biting the man’s shin, a wound that other signs at the base of the trail that required stitches. This is not a common say similar things.

The literacy rate occurrence, but it did occur, and will of Scotchman Peak visitors is likely at likely occur again if people don’t learn least as high as the national average, to stay away from the goats. which is 99 percent.

So, one person in In 2010, a man died in Olympic 100 might have the excuse that they National Park after a goat that wanted couldn’t read the sign.

It appears the the man’s lunch began tossing its horns failure rate is higher than that. around and punctured the man’s It doesn’t have to be a lot higher, femoral artery. The man bled to death. though.

Behavioral scientist B. F. The goat was nearly immediately Skinner noted that the best way to put down. The ironic and sad part of train anything to do anything is by this story is that the goat was acting random reinforcement.

If one person insistent because the man was unwilling in 20 — five percent — feeds mountain to give the goat something to eat. The goats, the goats will likely become man was doing the right thing. The expectant of being fed by humans. And actions of people who hadn’t done the act accordingly. right thing caused his death.

Can goats be “untrained?” That’s When humans aren’t providing unknown.

But the closure is at least trans fats and sodium for them, goats giving them some breathing room and subsist on lichens and forbs found a reprieve from human presence. IDFG growing in their neighborhood. They will conduct some research, hopefully, travel great distances for water and that will tell us if the closure helped. get their sodium from “licks” and the The real question, though, is if humans plants they eat. Without humans to can be trained not to feed the goats. provide the salt that every creature That addresses the core needs to survive, they find it in natural problem, and should be Custom Jewelry & Repairs sources that may be few and far our major objective in the between, but find it they do. And have human-goat conflict. for hundreds of thousands of years.

Sandy Compton’s newest In other words, mountain goats book, The Scenic Route: don’t need humans to survive. Humans Life on the Road between are not doing them a favor by feeding Hope and Paradise, is them, but a disservice. available for purchase at The July biting incident is actually BlueCreekPress.com or from the cause of the September closure. www.SunshineGoldmine.com your local bookseller.

Trail #65 was slated to be closed October 2015 Page

110 S. First Ave. Sandpoint 208.263.6713

When Wildlife is Unwelcome

by Trish Gannon August was a tough month, with Dept. of Fish and Game and my go-to around long enough for you to spot little rain and lots of smoke from fires. guy for any wildlife questions. “Is the it and grow alarmed. If you live in a For some people, the difficulties were bear acting defensively? That’s when fairly rural area, and there’s some sort compounded by adding wildlife to the we get scared.” of dead creature nearby, the lion may mix. And while August has given way Defensive behavior in a bear can simply be staying close to its kill. But in to an Indian summer, those animals are include bluff charges—a sudden all other situations, spotting a cougar still around. lunge followed by an abrupt stop in an inhabited area, where people Yes, we all like that kind of “Twin and, often, open-mouthed huffing are around, is, as Matt put it, “a whole Peaks” vibe when we see moose sounds—slapping of the ground, or different ball of wax,” and a reason for wandering through town, but the clacking teeth. The message the bear is an immediate call to Fish & Game. reality is, wildlife in the neighborhood sending—Go away, now!—is pretty clear.

Moose are rarely cause for a phone is not always sunshine and roses.

If a bear is behaving defensively, call, as they are common in what passes Cougar and bear, particularly, tend or is running around in the midst of for our “urban” areas and will generally to be the cause of panicked phone calls a residential area, call Fish and Game leave you alone if you leave them to local wildlife officials... and well they right away. A bear that feels threatened alone. An exception might be a bull should be. Small children are precious is a bear that can be dangerous. If you moose in rut, as shown in the photo resources to most of us, but to wild happened to spot the rump of a bear as with this story. This bull was tearing animals they are often seen simply as it was leaving your property, however, apart the neighborhood and needed prey, and it’s always better to be safe there is less cause for alarm. to be removed. Again, it’s aggressive than sorry.

If you see a cougar (mountain behavior you’re looking for.

With wildfires ravaging some of lion), there is usually far more cause If your problem is a raccoon, don’t our area this summer, along with the for alarm, because the rule is that a bother calling Fish and Game, no drought and high temperatures that mountain lion will see you, but you matter how aggressive they behave. But have made a mockery out of many will not see it. Aggressive behavior in a do take measures to remove them from wildlife food sources, there has been mountain lion includes simply hanging your property. I had a raccoon kill two an increase in the reports of wild of my chickens this month, and what he animal sightings in more urban areas, left was not a pretty sight. particularly bears. So what do you do Your best bet is to trap the raccoon when there’s a critter in your yard? and then, haul it off to the woods or, The simple answer is to report frankly, kill it. Please, if you choose that wildlife whenever they display route, do it humanely. You can call Fish aggressive behavior. But the definition and Game about the best way to do of aggressive behavior varies with that. species.

We’ve said it in these pages a “With bears, we really look for million times, probably, but it’s worth reports of aggressive behavior,” said saying, one more time, DON’T FEED Matt Haag, a game warden for Idaho’s WILDLIFE. Page

October 2015

WAR BONDS: Take Two

If you’re buying cracked corn at Wal-mart for the ungulates, you’re part of the problem. But with wildlife on the move, it’s even more important to make sure you are not feeding wildlife unintentionally. Bird feeders, outside cat or dog food (or chicken feed on the ground), unsecured garbage cans... all of these can be food sources for animals that, right now, are actively looking for food. Yes, some area wildlife is hungry and yes, that can be very sad. But that is also a part of that great circle of life and you do no one—not even the animals—a favor by interfering.

In this time of drought, pay particular attention to outside water sources, as they can be an additional reason for wildlife to visit your property. Clean up the deadfall from fruit trees you did not harvest. Keep all of your pet feed, and your garbage, in secured containers. And call to report any aggressive behavior in wildlife on your property.

Do not make a pet of wildlife because, frankly, they are not pets, and they can do massive damage to people and property, particularly if they feel threatened. You do not want the liability, or the load on your conscience, should a wild animal, habituated to an area because of YOUR habits, harm a child.

Photos: Moving a moose, above left, and bear in a trap, above, are both courtesy Becky Haag. Mama cougar and cub, taken just off Spring Creek Road in Clark Fork, is courtesy Iris DeMauro.

In our August issue we featured a trio of books that deserve a place on every bookshelf. Yet in the review of “War Bonds,” I managed to print the second paragraph over and over and over again, without ever providing the rest of the review. So let’s try again, because this book is worthy of your attention.

TG WAR BONDS: Love Stories of the Greatest Generation. by Cindy Hval, 240 p., Casemate. $24.95. Hardback Cindy Hval, Spokane columnist for the Spokesman-Review and back-up “captain” for the Huckleberries Online blog, has released her first book, “War Bonds: Love Stories of the Greatest Generation.”

World War II shaped a generation in numerous ways, but perhaps none so poignant as are revealed in this series of 36 stories of how love can be birthed and endure for a lifetime in the midst of a world-wide cataclysm.

Sometimes you’ll laugh, often you’ll smile, and a few of these stories you’ll read through tears, as Cindy introduces you to these couples whose love has lasted their lifetimes. You’ll meet young mothers who don’t know if their husband is still alive, high school sweethearts, young men whose love endured even while held as a Prisoner of War. Originally written as a series of

regular columns in the SpokesmanReview, Cindy says, “I fell in love with writing them and thousands of readers fell in love with reading them.” She describes these stories as “... born out of the hardship, separation and deprivation of WWII,” and reminds us that a half century from now, it may well be difficult to find marriages like these that “have endured 60 to 70 years.”

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October 2015

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• Politically Incorrect Trish Gannon• Did You Miss the September Issue?

So did we, thanks to another death in the River Journal family. Good-bye, Mom.

On the morning of August 23, just as work on the September issue of the River Journal was kicking into high gear, my mother died unexpectedly.

She was 87 years old, so if it seems a little ingenuous to say her death was not expected, let me say you didn’t know my mother. She was 87, but no one ever guessed that, and she took great delight in the surprise engendered by the announcement of her age. She remained fairly vigorous and retained her full intellectual ability up until the moment she died, and even her hair was still mostly dark—a point she relished in making to me when my first grey hairs began to appear in my early forties.

In fact, in the days prior to her death, with family gathered ‘round, we were all pretty sure that she was going to outlive every single one of her children, a prospect she did not contemplate with any enjoyment. You see, two of my siblings have already died, and both of my remaining brothers are facing significant health issues. My youngest older brother is scheduled for a kidney transplant in January. And my brother Joe—author of this magazine’s Surrealist Research Bureau—was diagnosed with cancer in early July, a malignant little bitch that has already spread to many areas of his body. As for me.... well, throughout the years, all of my doctors have said I am healthier than I deserve to be, so the future carries no guarantees.

Of course, it carries guarantees for none of us, a lesson brought home pretty sharply when mother died as I performed CPR on her one hot August morning. And while we all know that’s the case, it’s a truth that is so very easy to lose sight of. As I had done. Our focus was on Joe—he was the reason family had come to Idaho from all directions—when Mom decided it was time for her to leave.

In the month before she died, some problems had cropped up. Mom was not as stable on her feet as she used to be, and must have taken some kind of Page 10

light fall; light enough that she didn’t remember it, but enough to cause a subdural hematoma—a collection of blood between the surface of her brain and the dura that covers it. This blood collected over (and put pressure on) the area responsible for language, and one morning she couldn’t find the words to respond to me. I took her to the emergency room, thinking she had had a stroke.

There are many who think living here in rural North Idaho means accepting a lesser standard of health care. But my experience has been that the people who provide care here in our rural hospitals and medical offices are first rate; this was certainly true regarding my mother’s care. I cannot praise the emergency room at Bonner General Hospital enough.

Mom went from Bonner General, to Kootenai Medical, to the new rehabilitation hospital in Post Falls, and her care was excellent in every case. When I brought her home to my house, Bonner Home Health provided first-rate services, as did her regular doctor, Scott Dunn, at Sandpoint Family Health.

But no one lives forever, despite the quality of their care, and Mama was no different. And even then the quality of support continued. Bonner County’s 91-1 system, the Clark Fork Ambulance crew, the staff at Lakeview Funeral Home... all did the best work that anyone in their position could possibly do. We have a lot to be thankful for here in our communities, even when we’re facing the end of life.

I had thought we were prepared for Mother to die. We had made plans for it, she and I, none of which worked out quite the way we thought they would.

And I discovered there is no guide book to dealing with death. I don’t mean dealing with it emotionally... I mean dealing with the actual things that need to be done when someone dies. Maybe that’s a new project for me, to write that book, because someone needs to.

What do you do with unused diabetic supplies? How do you legally dispose of an “estate” that has no real value? How do you shut off telephone service? (Surprise! It’s not as simple as calling and letting them know that the owner of the phone has died.) These were all questions that demanded answers, and dealing with it all left no time to publish a magazine.

September was a very busy month, even without The River Journal.

As obituaries go, however, I guess this one isn’t quite standard, so let me tell you just a bit about the mother that is no longer in my life.

Billie Jo Hulin Presley was born on the 17th of July, 1928, in Breckenridge, Texas, and grew up during the Depression, which might explain the horde of food and miscellaneous items she left behind when she died. (Seriously, who needs 39 sets of fingernail clippers?) Like many students here at Clark Fork, she played all sports in high school because everyone had to play in order to man a team. But basketball was her favorite, and in later years she enjoyed watching her son and then her grandson play the game. During “the War” (WWII), she worked with her mother in the shipyards in Galveston as a young teenager. And by the early 1950s she had left Texas, three young children in tow, for greener pastures. She never returned there again to live, but for the rest of her life, Mom was first and foremost a Texan.

She ended up in Chicago, where she booked bands for local bars, and met up with my father. Dad told me she had come by the shop where he worked to check on the repair progress of her car.

“I looked out from underneath the car and saw the most beautiful pair of legs I’d ever seen,” he said. “I knew then I was going to marry her.” He did, and she gave birth to two more children. I was the last of that pair.

When my dad joined the pipefitter’s union and began to make a livable wage (he had worked a variety of

October 2015

odd jobs prior, including as the local milkman when I was born), Mom took on the role of a traditional housewife.

She became active in the PTA, and served as the state vice-President in Indiana, earning a lifetime membership of which she was always proud.

Dad’s job required a lot of travel, which Mom loved, and the family lived in various areas in the States and abroad. But Mom’s favorite place, outside of Texas, was Malta, and had I made a fortune in my life, I would have moved her there instead of to cold North Idaho for the last 25 years of her life. When living in Saudi Arabia, she became a quasi-mother to Saleem Shah Ahmed, a relationship that stayed strong for the next 50 years.

My dad died in 1984 and my grandmother (Mom’s mom) just a few months later. Shortly after, Mom moved up to North Idaho to live with me. She worked for K-Mart when it was here, and then gave out samples at Wal-Mart to everyone who wanted them, and a lot who didn’t. Mama could be very persuasive. And in the days when she could still hoist a bundle of newspapers or magazines, she played a role in getting the River Journal out on the newsstands in two states, four counties, and 16 communities.

She made the best pancakes that were ever made, and not long after she died my daughter, Misty, cried that she would never learn to make fried potatoes the way her grandma did.

(But she’s learning. The trick is to add LOTS of butter.) In truth, Mom was a terrible cook, but she had a deft hand with poor folk food and if Mom was in charge of the kitchen, no one was going to go hungry. She did pretty well with sweets, too, and her recipe for peanut butter fudge is one that’s cherished by her entire family.

Mom loved country music (Willie Nelson was her favorite), and she was forever influenced by Porter Waggoner and his suits by Nudie. If it had bling, Mom would wear it, and the cheaper it looked, the better. We all lived in dread of her Christmas presents, as none of her family appreciated glitter nearly as much as she did. She liked Elvis, but

not as much as people supposed; after all, she wasn’t born a Presley, she just married one.

As much as she loved music, she couldn’t sing; when music was playing she would often whisper along with the songs. But boy, she could dance.

She probably did a mean jitterbug before she broke her hip in a car accident back in the late ‘50s, but in her later years she was an avid square dancer.

She was born a Hulin, but she didn’t know her dad much and never had any attachment to the name.

Her pride was invested in her mother’s side of the family, where she was connected to Quanah Parker, the last principle chief of the Quahadi Comanche tribe, and to Bonnie Parker (better known by her first name and that of her partner: Bonnie and Clyde). Another segment of the family started the Newberry Department Store chain. At least, she was connected to all of them until I started doing genealogy research and found that those connections were tenuous, at best. I’m not sure she ever forgave me for that.

Mother always seemed to regret that none of her daughters or granddaughters grew up into fine southern ladies, but honestly... we all followed her path. She was a rough, tough and above all, competent woman. When I was 9 she taught me how to fix the muffler on a car, and if anything broke in the house, she was the first one to fix it. She was a strong, independent woman long before that ever became a desirable thing, and every female descended from her carries an indomitable belief that they can do anything they need to do (except, maybe, publish a magazine

in the week their mother dies). It is, like most things, both a blessing and a curse.

Dozens of people have told me how nice my mother was and honestly... she wasn’t always. But she was almost always willing to accept people for who they are. She never showed a shred of racism, nor was she homophobic, and that’s not always the case for someone of her generation, raised in the South. She grew less tolerant as she aged and, in particular, as she watched Fox News.

Truthfully, I might have killed her by showing her a picture of Willie Nelson hugging President Barack Obama in the days before she died. In the last decade of her life, we didn’t agree on politics at all, and I think it drove her nuts to realize that I was her creation: that my liberal tendencies had been planted and nurtured by none other than herself.

For better or for worse, she was a powerful influence on her daughters and her granddaughters, and likely on her great-granddaughters as well. Mouthy, irreverent, independent, fiercely intelligent and more willing to flout convention than she likely would want anyone to know, her legacy will live on for many years to come.

It’s likely that Mom would have been disappointed that I didn’t manage to get the September issue printed.

But I’m not. Sometimes, life and your loved ones take priority. And as Joe and I take this journey through the cancer that will, all too soon, end his life, events may well usurp deadlines again.

And that’s okay. Because no one will die if this magazine comes out a little late... but someone may die while you were doing something else that seemed important at the time. Please take time to enjoy the time you have with your loved ones, just as I plan to do.

October 2015

Page 11

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•All Shook Up A.C. Woolnough • We’re All In It Together I don’t always like groups, but when I do…

Groups frequently mean meaningless small talk. Worse yet, groups can mean a complete lack of reason and logic as a herd mentality arises. The worst part of groups, however, is meetings. That’s an embarrassing revelation as I ran staff meetings, in-services and various other groups for over twenty-five years as principal of high schools and middle schools.

The primary issue with group meetings is some people pay attention, some people get something of value, some people knit or do crosswords, and some people let their displeasure of being present shine through with some degree of hostility. Most of the time in business and professional settings, attendance at meeting is mandatory.

Sometimes people’s needs, wants and wishes are fulfilled. Sometimes not.

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the content is chosen by the group. But wait, there’s more!

At first glance, a support group can be viewed as a bunch of like-minded whiners—which is what I first imagined.

But on the contrary, a support group can (and should) be a place where people with a shared situation, condition or disease can feel normal.

That definition of a support group is more powerful than it appears. Feeling normal as a cancer patient who has lost her hair; feeling normal as a person with Parkinson’s disease—this is powerful stuff. At a PD support group, it is the person without tremors or slow gait or freezing that stands out. Knowing others will understand completely when you say, “My future with this disease scares the hell out of me” or, “I know it will only get worse over time” or, “My medicine is no longer working” are profound statements. Everyone can intellectually understand the words, but only another support group member understands it completely heart and soul.

Beyond feeling normal, for many people with PD support groups are a way to meet people and develop new friendship—especially important for people with a condition frequently associated with social isolation. For these reasons, I am trying to start a Sandpoint Parkinson’s Support Group.

The nearest one is in Coeur d’Alene and too far for most folks. If I can get at least two PwP’s (person with Parkinson’s) and/or their care partners to call me or email saying they are interested, we will work out a time and place to start our very own PD support group. I can be reached at 208/3045756 or acwooly(at)gmail.com.

A.C. Woolnough has spent a lifetime in education, including a stint as principal at Sandpoint High School. After an adventure as a school administer in Alaska, he has returned to Sandpoint and is currently serving the Parkinson’s Disease Foundation as both a Research Associate and a member of the People with Parkinson’s Advisory Council.

In addition, he is the Assistant State Director for the Parkinson’s Action Network.

October 2015

• Surrealist Research Bureau

Last Words

What is it about the delirium-tainted ramblings of a dying 1930s gangster that still incites so much passion among NDE researchers, treasure hunters, the literati, and perhaps most of all, Surrealists like myself?

A little backstory first: Dutch Schultz was born in New York in 1901 and was killed in 1935 at the young age of 34. He had rapidly moved up in the mafia ranks and became a mob boss, raking in millions in the numbers racket, prostitution, and rum-running, until weakened by two (not guilty) tax evasion trials doggedly pursued by crusading prosecutor Thomas Dewey.

Schultz went before the Commission (an early version of the 5 Godfathers) and asked permission to kill Dewey, which the Commission refused, fearing it would bring the heat down on them all.

Schultz defied the Commission and ordered a hit on Dewey, which failed. The Commission then gave the go-ahead for Schultz’s assassination, which was carried out by three gunmen who also gunned down Schultz’s two bodyguards and his accountant (who all died as well) while they were eating supper at the Palace Chophouse.

When Schultz, still clinging to life, was brought to the hospital semicoherent and rambling, with two bullet wounds to the abdomen, the police and FBI brought in a stenographer to take down anything he might say. You see, fearing his enemies on the Commission might attempt a hit, Schultz had ordered the building of a special safe in which he placed $7 million in cash and bonds.

Schultz and his accountant then drove

Jody Forest •

off with the safe to a secret location somewhere in upstate New York and buried it. (His accountant, remember, was one of the three other men also killed in the attack on Dutch.)

“Lucky” Luciano, according to gangland lore, spent much of his life obsessively trying to locate the safe but if the FBI or anyone else thought his dying utterances might prove useful, they’d soon be sorely disappointed.

Some are pure poetry: “A boy has never wept, nor dashed a thousand kim,” Others are more whimsical, “Oh, oh dog Biscuit, and when he’s happy he doesn’t get snappy.” His last sentence was a reference to the delights of French Canadian bean soup!

A number of writers have devoted works to his last words, including William S. Burroughs’ novel “Last Words of Dutch Schultz” and Robert Shea and Robert Wilson’s “Illuminautaus Trilogy.” In the novel, Billy Bathgate, the hero, discovers clues in Schultz’s fevered ramblings to locate his hidden treasure. Treasure hunters meet yearly in upstate New York gatherings to hunt for the buried safe, as seen in the 2001 documentary film “Digging for Dutch.”

So now, with the vermouthlipped Duck of Doubt slowly roasting in my fierce Oven of Truth, I bid you Adieu.

Keep spreading the word; Soylent Green is People. All Homage to Xena!

Editor’s note: Despite Jody’s recent diagnosis with cancer, this column title is in no way intended to be prophetic.

In fact, he is hard at work completing his November column.

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Page 13

• The Way I See It

David Keyes •

Facebook Encourages Lousy Government

On the local level. the discussion goes something like this: “Mo Dunkel for Mayor? Are you kidding me? The guy is a lightweight.

Hasn’t been involved with the city— other than to run for office before and lose—and doesn’t have a clue about how to run a city, much less anything else. Just read his Facebook page.”

Or...

“Shelby Rognstad for Mayor?

Isn’t he the guy who wants to change Sandpoint street directions, closed his business and is in the hip pocket of the current mayor and wants to pay $100,000 for a city administrator?”

So, if you live in Sandpoint and have staked out a candidate for mayor, your blood is boiling by what is being said about “your” candidate.

Let’s go to the national level. This discussion goes something like this: “What? Elect Hillary Clinton? Are you kidding me? What about the emails, what about Benghazi, what about her husband and that intern? If she can’t handle her own husband, how can she be expected to run the nation?”

Or....

Donald Trump, Ben Carson, etc...

“What a clown car full of candidates.

Can you really see any of them in the White House? Really? The economy is still too shaky to turn it back to the

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Republicans. It has taken almost eight years to dig out of the last hole left by the GOP and the funny thing is most of the GOP faithful are complaining that Obama hasn’t fixed their mess fast enough.”

Whew...

More than a few studies have shown that talking politics is akin to being hooked on drugs. Could be right.

Take Facebook for example.

I found this gem last week: “Your relentless political Facebook posts finally turned me around to your way of thinking. Said nobody... ever.”

So Miss Manners would remind all of us to not discuss politics or religion on Facebook or anywhere else for that matter, because it seems impossible to have an intelligent conversation about anything.

Try it.

• “Hey, how about those Seahawks?”

“They would be doing a lot better if that Obama and the Democrats wouldn’t have forced such a high minimum wage in Seattle. If that hadn’t gone through, they could have afforded to sign Cam Chancellor earlier and wouldn’t have lost those early games.”

• Sure was hot this summer.

“Don’t get me started on the whole climate change fiasco. Just a slick way to put coal miners out of work while propping up China.”

Pick a topic, any topic.

I floated an idea a few years back that was greeted with crickets. I thought it made sense to not have party affiliation with positions such as county commissioner, sheriff, coroner, treasurer and clerk. Seems the nonpartisan approach to school board

trustees has worked (although we know they are all lefty, communist, pro union, pro nonfiction liberals— oops, see how easy that is?)

In the meantime, the state GOP voted to close the primaries so that a person had to declare party loyalty before picking up a Republican ballot.

This not only lowered the voter turnout to historic numbers, it further inflamed the political battles.

So what is a voter to do?

How about demand change.

Why not call out the candidate who is only running on the platform of how bad the other guy or gal’s party is doing nationally? Who really thinks that Obama has anything to do with the hours the clerk’s office is open?

Why not get informed? It’s been my observation that the more a candidate is paranoid about the media or attending public forums, the more they are bought and paid for or are clueless.

It is hard to get involved in a political process that is really designed to discourage non-zealots.

Don’t let this happen.

You owe it to yourself to learn about the issues and candidates and to cast an informed ballot.

You truly get the type of leaders you elect and you have no right to complain—or to Facebook—about how bad things are if you aren’t involved.

Get involved... just keep it off Facebook.

What do you think?

David Keyes is the former publisher of the Bonner County Daily Bee, Bonners Ferry Herald and Priest River Times and is the vice chairman of the Idaho Lottery. He can be reached at: davidkeyes09@gmail.com.

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October 2015

• Veterans’ News

Gil Beyer ETC, USN Ret. • there?], Bonner County Sheriff (R)

District 4 [What the hell was he doing

AO, TE and a Dog & Pony Show

This column could be one of the most important I’ve ever written. It features two topics of immense concern to veterans everywhere. They are personal to me and should be front page news for everyone that knows someone that has served.

The first item on the agenda is Toxin Exposure. Since the term ‘Agent Orange’ has been become old news it is now called ‘AO’ or, more recently, ‘Toxin Exposure.’ At long last our government is starting to accept some responsibility for the aftermath of our wars. We have thousands of veterans, their children and their children’s children that have long suffered from unusual illnesses and diseases. Now, things are finally starting to move, albeit four decades too late.

If you think that you are an AO or Dioxin affected veteran, are the spouse of one, the child of one, or know someone that may be AO or Dioxin affected, I encourage you to sign the petition online at http://signon. org/sign/equality-wrt-vet-dioxin. Yes, the sponsor of this petition is MoveOn. org, but in this case I believe that they are on the side of angels—supporting veterans. We must get our government to ‘pony up’ and do what is right for veterans. I believe that I know at least two veterans here in North Idaho that have been affected by this toxin exposure and it is way past time the problem was dealt with.

Additional information can be obtained by following the links below. www.veteranprograms.com/id1071. html (Agent Orange Presumptive Disabilities) www.vva.org/Guides/ AgentOrangeGuide.pdf (Very good guide) http://makeagentorangehistory.org/ agent-orange-resources/background/ health-effects-of-agent-orange-dioxin/ (Good background information) www.congressmerge.com/onlinedb/ (Contact your Congressional representative) To Call your Representative: 202225-2305.

To call your Senator: 202-224-3841 or 202-224-3553.

To call different members of Congress: 202-224-3121. (Toll FREE Number: 866-272-6622.)

Next on the list is an item that is also extremely important to every veteran: getting the support and help veterans need from the VA and the veteran’s elected officials. I fully expect and encourage our elected officials to intervene when government bureaucracy adversely affects any veteran in getting the help and services they’ve earned. Championing their constituents is part of what these representatives were elected to do.

What I take umbrage at is when an elected official, at any level, uses the problems of any veteran for that official’s personal and/or political agenda. The advancement of any politician should never be at the expense of our veterans. Trying to make news and get sound bites into the media on the back of a veteran is a motivation that is suspect at best. No veteran should be used for political gain.

This, in my opinion, is exactly that happened on August 6 in front of the Priest River home of Navy veteran John Arnold. This is the second time this year that Representative Scott has used the problems of others to promote her views and agenda regardless of any real connection to the problem involved.

Mr. Johnson’s problems were created by an emergency room physician at Newport (Wash) Community Hospital shortly after his stroke last year. A box was checked on a form immediately after his stroke. This form indicated that he was incapable of handling his personal finances. That form was duly forwarded to the VA in Salt Lake City. This form may very well have been accurate when submitted, but was no longer accurate when Salt Lake City VA made the decision to act on certain provisions of the Brady Law. It was a bureaucratic error pure and simple.

That error was exacerbated, overblown and over-shadowed through the efforts of Rep. Scott (R) Idaho LD1, Rep. Shea, (R) Washington

Daryl Wheeler and several Second Amendment Rights supporters that really only wanted to rail against ‘the government.’ Not one of the previously mentioned ‘officials’ were (IMHO) there to help solve a veteran’s problem.

They were there to promote their agenda.

Washington State Rep. Matt Shea of Spokane Valley—who described the event as a “defiance against tyranny”— later told reporters that, “The event ended peacefully after a representative of the VA arrived at Arnold’s home and said an inspection wouldn’t occur Thursday.” What Shea was bloviating about was the VA acknowledging the fact that they’d made a mistake and the problem would be dealt with. The promoters of this ‘Tempest in a Teapot’ had no real role in the solution.

One would think that after all the bad press Representative Scott got at the end of the last Idaho Legislative session she would be a little more circumspect in choosing which windmills she tilts at.

I would suggest that Rep. Scott, Rep. Shea and Sheriff Wheeler should look for real problems that they can help with. Don’t just grandstand. We don’t need more Dog & Pony shows here in North Idaho. We need real solutions to the real problems we face.

These solutions are best done quietly, in discussion with all parties concerned, not by blasting out inflammatory rhetoric with little basis in fact.

Here’s another suggestion for Rep. Scott and Rep. Shea. You are state Representatives. You should involve yourselves with state issues. Any problems with the VA, a federal agency, should be handled by elected federal officials. For a state representative to get involved in federal issues smacks of delusional behavior. Or, an even worse view, inserting oneself into a situation merely to promote one’s own agenda.

Lastly but by no means least I’d like to mention that on Wednesday, November 11th ‘Golden Corral’ is holding their 15th Annual “Veterans Appreciation Day” from 5 to 9 pm. Until next month, take care of yourselves and each other.

October 2015

Page 15

• Get Growing Nancy Hastings • Plan Now for the Next Bad Fire Season

This summer’s nearby wildfires have made everyone think long and hard about the non-discriminating chaos Mother Nature can inflict on any home in just an instant. The 2016 winter projections for snowpack and precipitation are not very encouraging and our area of the Northwest may well be in for another year of drought conditions to contend with. While we cannot control precipitation, we can control our susceptibility to fire danger around our home. With a bit of sweat equity and good landscape judgement now, we can greatly increase our home’s chances of not being swept up in a wildfire.

Make sure when you plan your landscape around your home you create a defensible space of 30 to 100 feet of well maintained landscape around your house. Zone 1 is the first 30 feet around your home. Keep any grass within this border watered and mowed, and any dead grass, leaves, weeds or branches should be immediately removed. Trees should be spaced 8 to 10 feet away from the home with branches that do not drape over your roof and the gutters clean of all debris. Ash, Cherry, Birch, Crabapple and Maple are good choices for 1st perimeter shade trees.

When selecting plants for the

landscape around your home steer clear of junipers, pine and arborvitae, especially close to the house. Each of these evergreens are dense and their dead needles become trapped inside the plants, providing the perfect habitat for flying embers. These evergreens also have a high volume of sap and pitch which burn hotter. If you want

and are versatile, with many different colors to choose from. Lavender, because it is full of natural oils, has a high moisture content, and is a beautiful swath of color to add. Salvia, Yarrow and Penstemon are also fire wise perennials even close up to the house. Be careful to prune out and clean up any dead branches and leaves around plants each spring and again in late fall as the plants die back.

When creating outdoor living spaces think about using more stone, brick, or

This photo, taken by Jody Payne of the Washington Department of Natural Resources, illustrates the importance of defensible space for forest properties.

poured cement for outdoor deck areas some evergreen color near your home and stairways instead of wood, since choose Boxwoods, Mahonia (Oregon The vision of embers can fly from over a mile away Grape), or for some flowering color, panelized, and ignite dry, thirsty wood. If you Dwarf Rhododendrons or ground realized. have a deep enough well, sprinklers cover Kinnikinnick (Bearberry). for your yard may save your house.

Choose these evergreen or deciduous Many homeowners who were forced shrubs that are no more than 2-3 feet to evacuate simply turned on their high in maturity or easily trimmed. irrigation systems and fled with very Keep shrubs well spaced out with little choice, and came back to their grass or rock between plantings. When houses still intact while neighbors were shrubs are packed too tightly together burned. and allowed to get too tall in Zone 1, they provide the perfect “ladder” for Nancy Hastings grew up on a 300+-acre fuel and fire to travel up trees and onto farm and now is co-owner of All Seasons the home.

Garden and Floral in Sandpoint. She and There is a cornucopia of perennials www.mehomes.net her husband John have been cultivating that are below 2 feet tall with community gardens and growing for 16 years interesting textures, heights and hues in North Idaho. You can reach them with to highlight around your home. Thick garden questions or sign up for classes at Dan McMahon, Gen. Contractor fleshed perennials such as sedum, day allseasonsgardenandfloral (at)gmail.com. dan@mcbldg.com lillies and iris hold up well in drought Page 16

October 2015

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• A Bird in Hand

Michael Turnlund •

American Dipper:

An Oddity Wrapped in a Plain Wrapper Don’t let the appearance of normal cause you to assume that normal is as normal looks. If that were the case, then my Uncle Theo would be the epitome of normality. He isn’t… just sit down and visit with him for a spell.

He might look like the archetypal oldman-next-door, but he’s as weird as weird gets. He even put copper wire in his attic to keep the alien mind rays from reading his thoughts. Although, when I watch what is going on in Washington D.C., I think he might be on to something.

And this is true for our bird of the month: the American dipper. It might look like your archetypal songbird, but you’d be deceived. This is one weird bird, but in a good way. And its plain wrapper only adds to the deception.

The American dipper is also less commonly called the Water Ouzel— though that might be a more fitting name. I mean “ouzel!” What’s an ouzel? Can you say “an ouzel is as an ouzel does?” I digress…

The American dipper is a bird of fast mountain streams. I should write pollution-free mountain streams, as this bird is very sensitive to the negative effects of human civilization. That is why it is often considered an indicator species, meaning that if the bird is present, all is well. If the bird leaves an area, something’s amiss. And it only exists in the West, from Alaska down to Mexico.

This is a song bird—a passerine— and it looks the part. Squat and gray, it looks like an oversized sparrow with a thyroid problem. Make it about seven inches in length—both ways.

The gray can range from dark to light, sometimes even with a tinge of brown.

And it has… wait for it… contrasting white eyelids. These become apparent only when it blinks. Weirdness, I tell ya…

Who would imagine that such a bird would, or even could, live among fast-rushing mountain streams? Cold ones. The ones that are too cold for us

featherless folks to wade even in the summer! Yup, that’s where they make their living. And raise their young.

Dippers get their name from their habit of dipping underwater into these streams. They can swim! They even “walk” along the stream beds in search of their prey. I don’t know how they do it. I’ve watched many a dipper manage a stream with such strong flows that it would knock me over.

They feed off of underwater insect larvae, such as dragonfly nymphs; picking them from the stones and wood debris that they cling to. “Lookout Herbie, here comes a dipper. RUN! Oh, you can’t… you don’t have legs…

WIGGLE!” Dippers make their nests along these streams, often under bridges or waterfalls, and far from the reach of predators. One source I researched stated that the primary limiting factor for American dipper populations is not lack of habitat, as in food sources and clean streams, but the lack of suitable nesting sites.

The American dipper is a resident, meaning it stays put all year round.

In some regions it might migrate down the stream to ice-free areas, but I’ve seen them in the same place in November during deer season.

Their call is distinctive, though hard to compare to other bird species. It is an eclectic collection of short bird songs that brings to mind a variety of different species. It is as if it can’t decide what song to sing, so it sings brief excerpts from every tune it knows.

There you go. Now head to the mountains to add the American dipper to your life list. Of course, you might need a Jeep. Happy birding!

(This particular column is dedicated to Willie, an avid birder and purveyor of fine bird articles. And a fan. Gotta love those fans!)

Like bird photos? You can find my collection online at birdsidaho.blogspot.com.

And if you want to complain, you can write me at mturnlund@gmail.com.

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• Gary’s Faith Walk

Gary Payton •

A Kairos Moment?

Time. It’s on my cell phone, on the microwave, and by my bedside looking at me all night long in dim red letters.

It’s “chronos” or clock time measured in seconds, minutes, hours, days, etc. And on it flows in well-ordered sequence, day in and day out, month in and month out.

Time. An opening, a window in which something of great magnitude can happen. In theological terms, it’s “kairos” or a moment when humans finally respond to God’s present, gentle urging. Such moments may bring about profound acts for peace and justice. In my life, I’ve known a “kairos moment” applied to dangerous periods of Cold War tension when stalemate was broken, or to the dramatic end of South African apartheid, or to even to the hopes for Israeli-Palestinian reconciliation.

Might we be on the cusp of another kairos moment?

Just weeks ago, we witnessed the extraordinary visit to the United States by Pope Francis. Amidst the saturated media coverage, he reminded President Obama and all who would listen, “…it seems clear to me also that climate change is a problem which can no longer be left to a future generation.

When it comes to the care of our “common home,” we are living at a critical moment of history.” He called on Congress “for a courageous and

responsible effort to redirect our steps and to avert the most serious effects of the environmental deterioration caused by human activity.” And, at the United Nations, he told the assembled delegates, “Any harm done to the environment... is harm done to humanity… We Christians, together with the other monotheistic religions, believe that the universe is the fruit of a loving decision by the Creator, who permits man respectfully to use creation for the good of his fellow men and for the glory of the Creator; he is not authorized to abuse it, much less to destroy it.”

And now, nations of the world are headed to Paris. From November 30 until December 12, a gathering of official representatives of 195 countries will come together in COP21—the 21st meeting of the Conference of the Parties. At the macro level, they are charged with preventing “dangerous anthroprogenic interference with the climate system.” As one author has described, “In plain English, it means global collapse.” At the detail level, the representatives will work to create a legally binding agreement on climate with a goal of keeping warming below 2 degrees C (3.6 degree F) over preindustrial levels. It all has to do with slowing the onrush of human-induced climate change: more extreme storms, prolonged drought, lengthened fire

DiLuna’s Presents

seasons, expanding wildfires, sea level rise, ocean acidification, species extinction, and more.

Will COP21 in Paris succeed? Will the urging of Pope Francis, countless other faith community leaders, and millions of persons around the world move the representatives to a binding agreement? Might the Divine presence break though in a kairos moment, marking a turning point for creation and all the living creatures which inhabit it? We may hope, but we do not yet know.

My faith walk has taken me to extraordinary places. I’ve been shaped by hundreds of sermons, joyfully led countless Sunday School sessions, traveled in mission service to former communist states in Europe, met and marveled with others from different faith traditions, and delighted in the amazing diversity of life on this planet.

Yes, I pray there is a kairos moment ahead. I ask for the in-breaking of the Spirit to change hearts and set us on a new direction of diminishing fossil fuel use and greater reliance on sustainable energy. But, no matter what happens in Paris, you and I can still strive to live more gently on the Earth. As Pope Francis said, it is our “common home.”

Gary Payton has walked his faith in countries throughout the world, and continues to urge people to husband the creation given to us. You can reach him at gdpayton@aol.com

Don’t miss

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Saturday, October 24

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October 2015

• The Hawk’s Nest

Ernie Hawks

•

Glamping (noun): Glamour camping

Hiking into a wilderness or back country where we have never been is one of our favorite adventures. Of course, it means carrying everything we need on our back or hiring an outfitter to carry it for us. Usually, we do it ourselves.

Occasionally, over the last few years, we have talked about finding another way to do our camping. After buying a big tent (it looks a little like a garage), we have been doing more car camping. Inside we put a big bed and still have room for chairs if the weather is inclement. On the table outside the tent (and there always is a table) is a two-burner stove for cooking. Over the table is a dining canopy in case there is a little rain or too much sun.

We still thrive on backpacking though. This last summer we discovered a way to combine our idea of glamping with backpacking.

We hiked into the Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park in British Colombia. In the park, a little over five miles from the trailhead on Kaslo Lake, is the Kokanee Glacier Cabin.

This is not your normal back country hut. It has room for twenty people, each with their own bed.

There is a full electric kitchen with refrigerator, cook stoves, hot running water and table seating for everyone.

Of course, there are electric lights throughout as well as bathrooms with showers. On one end of the kitchen is a large common area with overstuffed furniture, a fireplace and library. The library has several books as well as games and cards.

No, we did not have to hike under power lines to get the benefits of all that electricity. It is provided by a hydro-electric plant near the cabin.

And a sewer treatment plant in the basement made sure there was no contamination of the wilderness.

This is our idea of glamping: four walls, a roof, and heat in a beautiful setting. The only way to get there is to walk in, or by helicopter in the winter.

We realize it isn’t the same as others’

idea of glamping and we do not fault them for what they like.

For us, we do not need to use a bus-sized motor home. We tried a small one once and while nice, we could not, personally, make peace with less than ten miles to the gallon.

There are other ways to glamp that we have not tried. One example is the Resort at Paws Up in Montana. It really looks like a wonderful place to do a little glamping but their rates do not fit our camping budget. The website for the resort says a one bedroom tent rents from $1,255 to $1,590 per night.

To be fair you get a king size bed, art on the walls, a bath with a heated floor, a “Montana Size” shower and granite vanity top. Included are three meals, soft drinks, water, and beer or wine. All of this lets you stay connected with high speed Wi-Fi. Now for my experience that is Glamping, yes with a capital G. We talked about it while sat onand increase nutrients, such as we nitrogen one of the decks at Kokanee Cabin. For us weThis wereseptic Glamping a capital G. pilot with project is being Above the cabin was to thecomply glacierwith shining introduced in order water white against a bright sky. Looking quality standards as blue determined by the inFederal anotherClean direction snow hangingto Waterwas Act. Designated onprotect the side of granite Weknown didn’tas water quality, peaks. the plan, have granite in the bathroom butfor weLake a “Total Maximum Daily Load” had a lot of it outside.

Cascades and Pend Oreille, addresses nutrient issues falls flowing from the many hanging valleys a picturesque In gave addition, manyparadise lakeshore atmosphere to our experience. homeowners participated in a survey fiveconcerning days we daya hiked inFor 2007 varietyinto of water basins, andout, to a their qualitygorges, issues.over As ridges is turns

Kokanee Cabin. Photo by Ernie Hawks toe of the glacier. We photographed breathtaking vistas and rainbows of wild flowers. After each day we came back to a warm, dry house. There we took a shower and fixed a hot meal with food that had been refrigerated since we arrived.

We did not have to carry tents etc. so we finished out our weight with things like premade real dinners that had been frozen to survive the hike in.

There also was some room for wine to have with each dinner. We were Glamping and loving it.

I bet in the future there will be more real backpacking, you know with freeze dried food and water the only liquid, but I’m sure some glamping “our way” will happen again.

Ernie Hawks is the author of “Every Day is a High Holy Day; Stories of an Adventuring Spirit” available on Amazon, Kindle or website in your favorite bookstore.

Council at tristatecouncil.org.

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October 19 5 The River2015 Journal - A News Magazine Worth Wading Through | www.RiverJournal.com | Vol 17 No. 18 | November 2008Page | Page

• Acres n’ Pains

Scott Clawson •

Don’t Just Panic...

Pre-Panic!

If ever there was anything designed for optimum consternation it has to be having too much time in which to panic. This, and the light-hearted bloodshed, bruising and light banter that often go with it, should be limited to two minutes, no more.

What if you were given just a few minutes to load up in one or two vehicles everything you couldn’t stand to see go up in the flames of a fast moving conflagration? What if you were given a week?! See what I mean?

You’d soon be reduced to a puddle of quivering stupefaction and your driveway would look like a yard a sale had sex with a twister.

Keep it short, keep it simple. If it’s insured (the elderly not included), take pictures and leave it for the adjuster.

One holds dear far more than what they will admit to, at least initially.

Throw in that first bite of panic to find your butt or at least the big column of smoke that precedes it and, voila, indecision.

Sunday, July 5th started out calmly at 57 degrees and headed quickly into the breezy upper 80s. Not atypical for northern Idaho in early July, except, that is, when it’s trying to unnerve the tomatoes and squash with threats of frostbite or conversely by scaring the bejeezes out of every other living creature in the Panhandle with gale force flaming mayhem.

At 12:28 in the afternoon, give or take, something happened near the water line of Lake Pend Oreille about four-and-half miles east of us, on the other side of Cape Horn Peak. Details are sketchy, but had I been present, this story would undoubtedly take a different slant on the subject of panic, with a probable nod to the fickleness of fate when firing frickin’ flares near a forest of flammability.

Page 20

We can’t see well in that direction from home, but the sudden appearances of large, jet-powered tankers flying at low altitude out of the west told me what my nose could not yet know. Then I noticed through the treetops the smoke plume blotting out Bernard Peak to the southeast. Sunday morning melancholy gave way to rapt attention. I went up my hill for a better look-see but having somewhere along this long journey of mine lost the ability to climb the trees that have grown up to block the panorama I once enjoyed three decades ago where I could get a good view of the Three Sisters and Cape Horn, all I got was a light workout and a slightly better view of the smoke and bombers. Then I could feel it. Thrumming in the full heat of the afternoon, with a big hot sun and sudden breezes, smoke, choppers and bombers filling the sky south and east as well as over our house, deep down in the chest, there it was, dead center, doin’ about ninety. The old adrenalin pump.

Shunning the television to save my sanity anytime imminent danger is on the horizon and my patience for inane commercials for drugs only doctors should be telling us about dips to zip, I turned to Facebook for what might be popping up on my feed. Sure as all getout, there was trouble brewing and people were high-tailing it on a road I know well, vacating a beautiful neighborhood with only one way out in peacetime as well as panic.

We hadn’t had any precip since the end of May and even that was dismally light. This became evident when strong winds, as though conjured up by Zeus himself, started playing with all things flammable. And there was plenty of that.

Suddenly it was a big scoop, not to

mention FIRE! “We’d better start thinking about what we might want to put in our two rigs!” my wife and I said together as one, our eyes exposing 30 percent more whites than normal. They would remain this way for nearly a week just to be on the watchful side of living too close to a forest fire.

I’ve been on the watchful side since blundering into a young moose while whistling through some chores back in May, so I was already inoculated, so to speak.

Although we didn’t get crazy (which might have been fun to revisit here), we did review quickly the panic of Firestorm ‘91, where my feminine side, being only about a mile downwind of the fires, drove through a wall off smoke wondering just where I might be, while I was deep in the mix with the rest of my fellow Sagle volunteers and all of our equipment as well as IDOL and the USFS. Not that much fun as a subject of conversation to revisit, less if you were there. In the mix.

Anyway, there we were, listening to the aerial attack four miles off and mentally ticking off that which is most valuable: important paper work, photographs, priceless keepsakes, beer and chips. No rush [subject to change without notice], so I popped a beer to think this over.

My priceless wife, demonstrating superior womanly intuition, pulled the largest tote I’ve ever seen from under the stairs. In it was 90 percent of our photo collection. To this she added the rest, leaving blond spots behind on the pine tongue and groove walls. “That was easy!” she chimed like a Staples button. Getting it out to the back of her Jimmy cost me one good prayer to the god of hernias (both spinal and groinal), which almost always works.

October 2015

Almost.

We packed a suitcase each, plus one for toiletries and prescriptions, as well as a briefcase full of important stuff.

The essentials.

This is where too much time can be a hairball as there was still plenty of room for more stuff. My wife calmly went about packing things she knew we couldn’t leave behind while I tried to prioritize 43 years of marital and professional accumulation.

This makes twice now that I’ve actually bitten my own tail like a crazed collie for not having built a nice big root cellar by now. What the hell does panic have to do with storing vegetables, you may be asking? Quite a bit, it turns out.

Besides food, a fireproof. earthen repository with an insulated steel door would be the perfect place to stash irreplaceable and/or underinsured valuables (maybe even yourself if the only way out was also on fire) and would eliminate the need to argue the case for taking your prized router in lieu of a prized curling iron or hair dryer. Get my drift?

What I want you to do now is “pre-panic”! Just for the sake of a little enlightenment, take the next (let’s be lenient here) five minutes and see if you can manage a pre-flight scramble.

Don’t think about it first, just do it NOW as if you just got a whiff of impending trouble and it’s not your husband or that burrito he had for lunch.

Done yet? NO!? I bet you didn’t even try. How can I make a difference in this goofy world if you don’t listen to reason? I know that chances are you’ll never need to ‘bug out’ with little more than the shirt on your back, but ask a resident of the normally placid Cape Horn neighborhood (or my bride) about those chances and you’ll likely get some raised eyebrows and a lecture.

I don’t want you to just sit down and calmly write out a list of things you should take on a moment’s notice either. It won’t do you any good. Like writing down the protocol for your

standard house fire evacuation, one will absolutely never find it for review when the house is actually on fire.

Holler “FIRE” in the dead of night and just see what transpires, take notes and make the necessary adjustments. Drill, in other words. It’s the best method.

You could even appoint the youngest member of the household to use their smart phone to document such a training exercise. You’d be surprised to see just how human you really are when you think you’re trying to be serious.

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October 2015

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