Day 8 – Little Big Horn and the trip home.
When we last left our Scouts they were sleeping peacefully under the stars. Perhaps if you knew our itinerary you were asking yourself “Wait – what happened to Little Big Horn?” Well, despite a very early departure from Madison Arm, we encountered some traffic, a lot of fun, and several seemingly angry snowballs. Therefore, we did not have enough time to visit Little Big Horn and the Custer Battlefield on Day 7 as planned, so it got pushed to the morning of Day 8.
Most of the tours of Little Big Horn are given by Indians and amateur historical buffs. The battle of LBH occurred on June 25-26 1876, only one day and a hundred some years ago, but it came alive for us as we toured the site. We met the grandson of the Indian Chief Gall at the site who told us of his grandfathers’ experiences, and related a bit of his life. He told us that although the US Calvary casualties were always marked with tombstones, the Indian ones were not. In fact, until the late 1950’s historians were not aware that the Indian families knew the location of their casualties, and had marked them with rock cairns. Only recently did 10 of these warriors get granite markers where they fell.
He also told how in the mid-1980’s the US government remunerated the families of the Indian warriors in the only manner they could calculate. Each family such as his received a check for $700 – the value of the warriors’ horse which was killed in the battle.
We also met an amateur historian, Hank Pangione, who shared with us a vivid re-telling of one part of the battle. Hank was careful to cite many references by name and book, and was clear when he was injecting his own personal theories and interpretations of the action as it befell that day. You could tell he was passionate about the site and accurately depicting its history with his colorful storytelling. Each year for many he has travelled from his home in Massachusetts to explore the site, meet with other enthusiasts and historians, and to freely share his time with others.
When we last left our Scouts they were sleeping peacefully under the stars. Perhaps if you knew our itinerary you were asking yourself “Wait – what happened to Little Big Horn?” Well, despite a very early departure from Madison Arm, we encountered some traffic, a lot of fun, and several seemingly angry snowballs. Therefore, we did not have enough time to visit Little Big Horn and the Custer Battlefield on Day 7 as planned, so it got pushed to the morning of Day 8.
Most of the tours of Little Big Horn are given by Indians and amateur historical buffs. The battle of LBH occurred on June 25-26 1876, only one day and a hundred some years ago, but it came alive for us as we toured the site. We met the grandson of the Indian Chief Gall at the site who told us of his grandfathers’ experiences, and related a bit of his life. He told us that although the US Calvary casualties were always marked with tombstones, the Indian ones were not. In fact, until the late 1950’s historians were not aware that the Indian families knew the location of their casualties, and had marked them with rock cairns. Only recently did 10 of these warriors get granite markers where they fell.
He also told how in the mid-1980’s the US government remunerated the families of the Indian warriors in the only manner they could calculate. Each family such as his received a check for $700 – the value of the warriors’ horse which was killed in the battle.
We also met an amateur historian, Hank Pangione, who shared with us a vivid re-telling of one part of the battle. Hank was careful to cite many references by name and book, and was clear when he was injecting his own personal theories and interpretations of the action as it befell that day. You could tell he was passionate about the site and accurately depicting its history with his colorful storytelling. Each year for many he has travelled from his home in Massachusetts to explore the site, meet with other enthusiasts and historians, and to freely share his time with others.
We only got a whirlwind tour of the site, but I think we all came away with a good understanding of the history of the battle, the conditions the Calvary and Indians encountered, and an appreciation of the amount of research and preservation that has gone on at the site.
We left after a final look at the National Cemetery where many of the soldiers for LBH and other Indian battles of the Northwest were interred. Whether from reflection or exhaustion, the drive to the airport was the quietest we had in several days.
Now, airports can be chaotic places. We didn’t help. Imagine two rental vans screeching to a halt beside the curb, one of which has a big blue tarp and several oversize duffels strapped to the top. A cascade of boys and men pile out of the vehicles with backpacks in hand and start hauling bags, duffels, and even boxes of food to the side of the building. Next everyone starts stripping of their shirts and putting on bright yellow ones that all match each other. Another set of boys starts to nosily crash through the interior of the vans tossing out odds and ends, banging the seats up down and forward to make sure nothing is left behind.
Next all the bags are dragged down to the close end of the building and restacked in the shade, while two adults go into the terminal, only to return shaking their heads and pointing clear down the line of buildings. Two more adults go inside to return the vans to the rental company. While those two are inside, the caravan of bags and boxes gets carried all the way down the terminal to the departure gates.
I don’t think the “white zone” has seen anything like this in a while.
After we were checked in, we returned to the shade in the front of the building now only carrying our backpacks and three boxes of food and drinks. We quickly made an interesting lunch of burrito shells, peanut butter and jelly/cheesy-its/string cheese (yes, I saw all of those combinations), lemonade, a few leftover ham slices, and some apples. For dessert it was again an interesting mix of cold smores or peanut butter and grahams and I don’t want to know what else.
While we were eating a Skycap in a red shirt came out obviously on break, but I thought he looked like he also had other things on his mind. He sat down from us for a bit until Pete (of course) struck up a conversation with him, and he slowly wandered into our circle of activity. We each noticed that he was eying our activities and food with a mix of interest and hunger, until one of us invited him over to formally join in lunch, which he gladly did.
As we packed up to leave we offered him our leftovers of burrito shells, peanut butter, jelly, a few cheesy-its, 3 apples, and some other tidbits (Congrats to Luke and Laura who planned the food that close!). He was very grateful for the items, and I sensed there was much more to his story that we will ever know, for as we departed he said from his heart “God Bless You. This means more to me than you could possibly know.”
We finally went through security, although Mr. Zimmerman got a lot closer scrutiny than anyone. He got scanned, wanded, patted down, then wanded again. Of course, Jake had to patiently stand by and wait. The rest of us showed our support by standing at the top of the stairs above the security area laughing and taking pictures…. Real supportive huh?
And now gentle reader, our tales come to a close. I leave you with an extra slide show of our sleeping angels, some young, and some old. We had a great trip, a great time, and we embraced the scout mottos of being brave, thrifty, kind, cheerful, and friendly. We created friendships and memories that should last a lifetime, and learned lessons and stories that perhaps will be passed down to the Scouts children. For this we should feel proud and grateful.
The parting words of the Skycap ring in my ears, as I belive there is more to this trip than the pictures or words on this blog. We are blessed, and this time with our children does mean more than we can possibly know.
Sleeping Angels
Heading Home
Lakes were completely frozen over. Canyons of snow, some three or four feet higher than our cars, surrounded the road at some points. A winter wonderland revealed itself to us, all traces of green frosted away. The tree line dipped below us. And still we went.
At KOA, Jacob passed his board of review for Tenderfoot, several scouts played ultimate Frisbee, we all swam at the pool, and we looked with boredom upon the cliffs that awed us the first time we saw them. For dinner, we ate pizza at Mackenzie River, which left little to be desired. The day ended without incident as the stars slowly spun above us.
Then when we reached the top we stopped and took a picture at another sign! 
Then we had a huge snowball fight, the snow was about 4 feet deep! After the long fight we headed to the cars. Omer, Matthew, and Jack started to walk back and we kept falling through the snow and every time jack fell all the other people pelted Jack. 
Eventually we made it to the cars. after that we were all freezing cold, after about 10 minutes of trying to heat up then we were fine. We finally reached Billings at the KOA station. Then put up our tents and headed to the pool. When we were done swimming we headed out to dinner for pizza. Then we came back and played some Frisbee and football. then we headed off to bed, some of us slept out in the stars.
After breakfast, we headed out to Earthquake Lake. This lake was formed when a huge earthquake knocked down a mountain which dammed the Madison River and made it flood. This all happened in 1959 and 29 people were killed by either the earthquake or the flood. There were some 80 Million tons of rubble which came down.
Our group broke into two different boats, with a guide in each boat. One guide was Helen and other was Whitney. Whitney told a joke “Do you know the difference between a rafting guide and a mutual fund? Eventually the mutual fund matures and earns income”
Veronica and Marianne are Rangers with the US Dept. Agriculture Forestry Service. Hank got the opportunity to get field dressed with all the gear that a firefighter might wear during a fire. He had on: a helmet, fireproof jacket, gloves, and a very heavy backpack. The backpack contained fuse-ezs (flares), food and water for 24 hours, an emergency fire shelter, and bear spray. The whole pack weighed 35-45 lbs but Hank thought it was a lot more! Hank also held the chainsaw and the “Polaski” fire axe. 
We also saw their firefighting truck, which had a 300 gallon water tank and pump, with a variety of nozzles, a compartment full of hand tools, and a tank of fuel to start fire lines with. The tank could be used with a drip torch, but most interestingly, the fuel is very attractive to the park bears! The bears are known to try to drink the fuel or chew on the cans and chainsaw!
When we were finished with lunch, we went down to Jackson Lake, that was right down the hill from where we were eating, and put our feet into the water.
On our way back to base camp, there were a lot of people on the side of the road looking at something, so we stopped to see what it was. It was a GRIZZLY BEAR and her two cubs eating!!! 
After taking pictures of the bears, we stopped at the Continental Divide to get our picture taken. We wound up having a SNOWBALL FIGHT!
So we got dressed and took a canoe (of course we asked the lady in the office the day before I mean come on, would we do that).We set sails and paddled for about maybe twenty minutes across the sleeping lake when it was most safe. The sunrise was beautiful, but we had seen nothing yet. Once we got to the shore of the mountain we just then realized how massive this mountain really was, (well actually I realized it about halfway up the hill when I was completely out of breath and my legs felt like rubber and my heart pounding through my chest, but we kept going.) When we had reached the summit, we sucked in the victory.
At the top was a sight to hard to describe in just regular words so I’ll try my best. It had endless mountains with the peaks draped with snow and the lake with the sun reflecting onto it and the lake in full view with the fog just gliding on the water. It was a sight I’ll never forget. On our way down we saw two antelopes pouncing happily through a field outside a wood. We rowed back to the campsite boasting heartily about what we have done and seen. If there is anything I have learned today, it’s if I want to do accomplish something, I can with the right tools, friends, and the right set of mind and heart.
When we arrived they made us sign these papers that pretty much meant if we die or fall off a horse (Hank) we can’t sue them for all the money there worth. If so I would get my very own horsey. But anyway once we signed the papers the instructor showed us how they trained the horses and they showed us how to stop, turn, and make the horse move forwards and backwards, which was quite easy. The next step was sizing us up to a horse that we could fit on. 
We were finally off. My horse’s name was Ammon, he was beautiful. We then started going on a trail that was already planned out. About halfway through the trail Hank’s Horse bent down for food (my kinda horse) and Hank dropped the reigns and the horse walked off the trail to eat, Hank then yelled and said it was going “crazy”. Our guide then brought the horse and Hank to calm and all was well. 
When we got out of the woods there was a beautiful view of a seemingly never ending valley and horses along with mountains in the background. Once we arrived back at the ranch we put the horses back in there resting spots for the night and we were off to one of my favorite events of the day……dinner!
Dinner was at the K.O.A. campgrounds and it consists of an absolutely divine steak, a side of baked beans, a roll and potato salad, corn on the Jack (Cobb)and for desert vanilla ice cream. Once we finished eating we set off for some photo ops and that was a great end to our night. Until tomorrow that’s it for now good night and I hope you respond to what a great blog this was goodbye!!!!
Upon arriving to Painter’s Peak, I had complete ignorance of what I was to see. We went first to the Lower Falls, and my pulse literally quickened with what I saw. The canyon, plunging more than a thousand feet below the edge at some points, was draped in hues ranging from rusty red to chalky white and yellow, the colors were caused by dust washed by rain down the slope. Granite cliffs burst from the general slope, shaped bizarrely by the wind over many eons. Among all this, pine trees that knew no better were growing straight from the stone. A blue and swollen river at the bottom offset the fiery colors, completing a vista that does not abuse the word “awesome,” as tired a word as that is. 
I cannot say the same for several tourists. A road paved wide enough for a Hummer allowed any number of people to witness this handiwork of God. While it did allow physically disabled persons to access the place, it also permitted a number of those who were probably not as appreciative. 
“They ought to knock down these trees right here,” declared one, gesturing to a cluster of gnarly pines that had lived through dozens of Yellowstone winters and had rightfully earned their place in existence. He, however, ignored the fact that he could have taken three or four steps on a path someone else paved for him in order to get a sufficient view of the canyon.
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There were several hot springs next to the river where we enjoyed lunch.
We also found a hot springs called “oje Caliente” which is “hot eye” in Spanish. We stopped at a waterfall and got a few pictures. We went to fire-hole road and relaxed in the river. We headed back to camp and on the way back we saw a couple of elk on the side of the road and one had a radio collar on. We stopped at a market to get our dinner and it took forever!.jpg)
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