The Tribe - benefits of the small-scale community

A Greek anthropologist and FaceBook friend just introduced me to John H. Bodley's "Victims of Progress." This is the book's 6th edition.

Our nomadic village - 3 trailers, 5 tents, 2 SUV, 1 Class-C
and  1 Class A. Most are in the trees but all are in this picture. 

It all started when we were talking about another book, Jared Diamond's "Worst Mistake in the History of the Human Race" (1987). I had made the comment that, although not a trained anthropologist, I have long held that the real beginning of the decline of the human race was when we became farmers. The agrarian life-style required greater population, began adversely affecting the environment, turned resources into wealth, and created a work for wealth and power society where competition replaced cooperation.  

That discussion led to the introduction of John Bodley's book.  His book almost immediately points out that indigenous people; whom our urban-based, large-scale, resources-as-wealth society has systematically attempted to destroy; are, in fact, quite superior in many ways. At least I translate things like more sustainable, greater democracy and freedom, more successful, etc., as superior qualities, but that’s my world-view and prejudice. 

Br James' Class-C in the foreground and Nitsitapiisinni
(our trailer) in the distance.

Besides being more sustainable, "Small-scale societies have enormous human advantages, especially because people living in smaller, lower-density populations may be able to enjoy greater democracy, freedom, equality, and security than people living in large, dense populations, where they usually are divided sharply by differential access to vital resources, wealth and power. In small-scale societies, where all households have assured access to food and shelter and to the rewarding experiences offered by their culture, there is less cultural incentive to accumulate and concentrate wealth. Likewise, there is little incentive for population and resource consumption to expand." (John H. Bodley)  Sounds good to me.

This quote and Bodley's first few pages can ignite a host of discussions, which I'm sure I'll address at some point, but when I shared what I had read with Pamela she used our small nomadic community, sitting on a hill in the desert, as antidotal evidence. Thinking about it, she's right.  

I'm sure that our group as an example would not fare well under extreme academic scrutiny but it does a good job at making the point. Hence antidotal evidence.  I’m calling our small, very diverse collection of people a tribe because Bodley states “We may call small-scale societies and cultures produced by the humanization process tribal to emphasize the absence of political centralization.” 

We had 20 people for Thanksgiving. 

We are undoubtedly more diverse than Bodley's small tribes, but we also share a lot of characteristics. We are a small population. Low density. We are more sustainable than larger groups because we are unit or household focused. We are assured of shelter and the protection of the group. Therefore, we do experience greater democracy, freedom, equality and even security. We have limited contact with and no input from the outside world; i.e. we are left alone and ignored by the world around us. We are free to live our lives as we see fit as long as we do not harm others in the community. There is no hierarchy. Whether we live under a tarp or in a Class-A, we are all equal. Democracy for us is the ability to stand together and talk about problems or issues and arrive at an amicable solution that benefits and is acceptable to all members of the community. We have witnessed this at least twice in the past week. 

The argument that we are hunter-gatherers of a fashion could be made. We each leave the community on a routine basis and, using our skills and resources, return with food, water and other essentials. Many times we either share these resources or we help the other person get it for themselves. For example, we would have driven 9.6 miles, spending precious gasoline, to get water. A member of the community told us where there was water a little more than a mile away. We shared with those who were going to need to find a new place the location of dispersed camping we had found in our movement around the area that would be good for them.

Br. James'   He often has friends visit and they play
drums, but always respectful of others. 

Do we share our food and essentials with the others? Yes. Because we all have food and shelter, even the ones living under a tarp, and we enjoy a common culture and social connectedness, there is no incentive to try to accumulate and concentrate wealth and/or power. The person who, in the large-scale, urban society around us, would be considered the poorest, is, in our community, the one who is spearheading a Thanksgiving feast. Assisting them in this undertaking is the man who arrived in a 40 foot class-A motor home. We all did our part as best we could.

Further evidence for my position can be read in a James Suzman (The Guardian. 10/29/2017) article entitled “Why ‘Bushman banter’ was crucial to hunter-gatherers’ evolutionary success”.  Most people in the US would assume that everyone wants to live like the USA (which is definitely not true) and that hunter-gatherers are always just one step ahead of starvation. That too is quite wrong. Suzman refers to research by a Canadian anthropologist, Richard Lee, who studied the Ju/’hoansi (Kalahari Desert in Namibia and Botswana) and found that they not only make a good living as hunter-gatherers but they do it in what works out to be a 15 hr work week!  (Think about that when you drive 1-2 hours in traffic to get to work, work 8 hours and then drive 1-2 hours to get home five times a week!)  “On the strength of this, anthropologists redubbed hunter-gatherers ‘the original affluent society’ ”. (Suzman) 

I believe that Pamela is right. Our little, eclectic, off-the-grid community in the desert does reflect the truth of the superiority of the small-scale, hunter-gatherer tribe. According to Bodley things began to change about 6,000 years ago when resources became wealth and power, and we developed a society of haves and have-nots. I'm thinking that was a sad day, perhaps the worst day, in human history.

Dishpan Hands - or how I wash dishes.

For those of you who still live in sticks-n-bricks (i.e. houses) this will probably be the most useless blog you’ve ever read.  Others might find it interesting, while yet others – those new to the nomadic, off-the-grid life-style - might find it actually helpful.  I’m going to tell you how I wash dishes. Woopee!!

Washing dishes when you are ‘boondocking’ or ‘dry camping’ in the desert is all about the conservation of resources.  Pamela and I have slightly different techniques, but both are efficient.  Both of our techniques save water but neither are the very severe approaches like using a spray bottle, etc.  We live here. We’re not camping for the weekend.  Nevertheless, we still keep our wash well under a gallon of water. The picture is of our sink, with our dishpan, after I finished this morning’s dishes.  The dishpan holds just shy of a gallon, and you will notice that it isn’t full.  Granted there are just two of us, but I’ve done this after hosting a dinner party for six with the same results.

Besides saving water, my methods also reduces the amount of water going into the grey water holding tank.  That means we can stay in the desert longer without having to find a dump station. This dishpan has environmentally safe soap and no food particles, so it is as good as filtered water and, in such small amounts, could be poured on the ground away from any existing ground water. (Always protect the ground water. If you do dump in the desert or the woods, but sure to go far enough away that you don’t attract animals to where you’re staying. The water still smells.)  If you are talking quantity, you will want to further filter, just to be safe.  We use so little I could just leave it outside in the desert and the water would likely evaporate before the next wash. But all this is another blog, so back to washing dishes.

You will notice that our dishpan fits neatly into the sink.  Filled to the brim it doesn’t hold more than a gallon of water.  Some times we use a large mixing bowl, or other similar container that needs to be washed, as our dishpan. Double duty.

Some people use paper towel to wipe food scraps, residue and particles into the trash.  I don’t really like using paper towels, even recycled paper towels.  I scrape as much as I can directly into the trash. Then  I start the wash by putting a very small amount of Dawn detergent into the dishpan and adding an equally small amount of hot water.  I just need enough to keep my dish cloth wet.  I wipe all dishes and cooking utensils with the very wet rag (don’t wring it out) over the strainer in the right side of the sink.  (I’m left handed, so this is easiest.)   Since we use cast iron, I have a separate dish cloth for the cast iron. Once wiped clean of scraps and residue, the item (sans cast iron) goes into the dishpan.  Now I’ve got all of the scraps, residue and particles safely trapped in the sink strainer. Before continuing, I empty the strainer and wipe out the right side of the sink. You might be able to see in the picture that our strainer isn’t the one that comes with a normal sink. It is a special design and works great.  This step takes only about as much water as you can wring out of a dish cloth. Maybe, if you have really dirty dishes, you might use two dish cloth worth, but this is almost 100% of the water you will be adding to your grey tank if you dump the dish pan on the ground. If you dump your dishpan into the grey tank, you’ve still added less than a gallon of water.

Actually, the dishes look quite clean at this point, and, in all honesty, could probably be rinsed and dried, but I do an actual wash.  I’m still using the same dish water which has not been polluted by food residue or particles. When I rinse, I rinse over the dishpan.  This adds fresh hot water to the pan. The advantage of this is the order in which I wash.  It takes almost no water to cover a plate or flatware.  They go first.  As rinse water increases the volume of my wash water, I can now get larger and larger items under the water to wash.  Cereal bowls are next.  Cups, serving bowls, etc., are, of course, last to be washed.  To conserve space on my drying mat, I generally leave the washed flatware in the pan until everything else is done, but that’s just because I don’t have a very big drying mat. If Pamela is drying as I wash, I will rinse flatware as soon as it is washed.  

All done!  It is actually a very quick and simple method. It is going to be a bit more difficult if you don’t use cast iron for cooking.  Cast iron is soooooo easy to clean. After the dishes are done I use the dish water to clean the stove, counters and sink.  Occasionally we save some of the dish water to flush and clean the toilet. This saves on water use and gives us more time enjoying the beauty of the desert. Any remaining dish water can be poured down the drain into the grey water tank or safely disposed of on the ground. Again, disposing of water on the ground is a conservation, safety issue with which each of us must deal. The nice thing about this method is that the amount of water is very small.  

This isn’t the only way to wash dishes, but I have found it to be quick, easy and efficient.  It does reduce the amount of water we use thereby not only conserving water but giving us more time to stay out in the desert. 

Pamela and I are full-timers who spend about half our year in the wilderness of northwestern Montana (our “official” home) where we serve as camp hosts for the national park service, and the other half in the marvelous deserts of the western US.   We spend about 70-80% of our time boondocking (dry camping). 

Community

The party is beginning. The community is gathering.

For those of you who do not know Pamela and me, we are full-timers who live in our twenty foot camper trailer we call Nitsitapiisinni – Blackfeet for “our way of life”. Our home is in Montana where we volunteer as camp hosts for Glacier National Park from the first of May until the end of September. After that we visit family in the Midwest and south and wander southwestern US.  We have fallen in love with the desert and are currently staying in the desert east of Cottonwood, Arizona. We are in an area where dispersed camping is allowed on BLM (Bureau of Land Management) land, perched on a ridge, 4.5 miles from Cottonwood, with a magnificent view of the mountains, and as peaceful as anywhere can be.

As we walked home from the party this evening the sky was so clear that we could see the Milky Way and the various constellations almost jumped out at us.  It was the perfect ending to a great evening.  

Earlier in the afternoon Pamela decided that she wanted to meet more of our neighbors.  Our dispersed camping area was quite full and we only had room for one or two rigs of any size. Pamela’s efforts at meeting neighbors resulted in a party with food, a grill going, and a campfire that started just after 4pm and went until 8:30pm. What fun we had. Of the eleven units in the dispersed camping area, which is clustered like a small community, only one family were not full-timers. That happened to be a firefighter and his family from Peoria, AZ a couple of hours away.  The rest of us are from all over representing California, New York, Finland, Arizona, Louisiana and Montana. (Two of the couples established Texas residence because Texas is one of the states that is good for full-timers.)   I was probably the oldest.  We are again and again amazed at the number of younger people who are full-timers and work from their RV. The youngest was a couple who were probably in their early 30s.  They had moved to San Francisco for work, decided ‘hell with it’, bought a Class A and now run their businesses from their motor-home as they travel the country.  As they said, they don’t make nearly as much as they did working in the city, but it doesn’t cost nearly as much to live comfortably, and it is a lot more fun.  One of the couples just bought a Springdale, so they had to come look through Nitsitapiisinni to see what modifications we’ve made.  The fellow next to us, who has an old diesel pusher school bus, gave me a tour.  He is a PhD candidate and the back third of his bus is his study where he works on his research and teaches on-line class for the university where he’s doing his degree.  We are a small temporary community drawn together by the desire to escape the confines of cities, towns and sticks-n-bricks as well as a love for the magnificent country in which we are camped. 

As the party was beginning to break up an old Class-A pulled in.  Our party was occupying the only open site.  I approached the driver and suggested that they come and join us for some food and socialization then we’d make sure they got a good place to stay. It was dark and getting late, so the community came together to help them back into a good spot next to the party fire.  The couple who had brought the grill saw the newcomers getting out a grill. They insisted that the newcomers use their grill which was still hot and only needed a some more briquettes. There was lots of food left from our party, which we all insisted that the new family take so they didn’t have to fix a meal so late in the evening.  I think I’m the only one who knows that the newcomers are not full-timers by choice. The sharing by our cluster of one-time strangers made a significant impact upon the lives of people who weren’t as fortunate as the rest of us.  Our little community, drawn together by a beautiful place to stay, had come together, celebrated life and started creating friendships.  The community can only exist for the 14 days stay limit, then we must all move on, but friendship have been forged that may last for many years.  The community acted charitably and in a very harmonious way.  We did not pay attention to the fact that their motor-home was old.  We didn’t check their pedigree, their passport, their politics or their religion before we decided to help them and welcome them into the community. 

 

Did you notice how this friendly and helpful community came to life?  It came about because one person, Pamela, knocked on the door of an RV and said “Hi, I’m Pamela.”   And I’m proud of her for doing that.  

Can we afford to be full-timers?

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The big question for many people who are considering full-timing is -  Can we afford to be full-timers?

Pamela and I are full-timers. Besides our experience, I am a compulsive number cruncher.  I keep a large spread sheet (A1-W367) where I enter everything about where we stayed, how far we traveled, gas mileage, etc.  I just finished writing the equations to summarize, average and annualize all of the figures for our 2018 budget.  With a bit of explanation, I hope this will help would-be full-timers and may even be of interest to others.

The biggest mistake we see new full-timers make is getting themselves into serious debt buying an expensive living unit  - Class A or C RV or big trailer. We live in a cozy twenty-foot trailer we call Nitsitapiisinni (Blackfeet for “our way of life”) that has a queen-sized bed; a lovely dining and sitting area with a giant window in the back; a kitchen complete with gas range & oven, double sink and full fridge; and full bath with a bath tub. Sure, we only have 160 square feet but it is quite comfortable. The important thing is that we got a good deal on a unit, which we like and serves our needs, for which we could pay cash.  Even if we had needed to finance, our monthly payment would have been less than a week’s groceries and supplies.  Point: don’t let a slick salesperson talk you into more than you can afford.  You don’t need to have a unit big enough to hold everything you’ve accumulated for the past forty years. What do you think you need?  Now think about that again.

 The second inhibitor, which is not a mistake but a problem of expectation or priority, is what I am calling “site cost” =df the cost of parking your unit for the night.  We live off the grid most of the time. That’s what we enjoy. We know that most people probably prefer to be near towns with restaurants, shopping, etc. That’s just not us. We love being in the wilderness. Nevertheless, between living off the grid and our five months at Glacier, we only pay for a site 29% of the time.  Some people want to stay in a KOA every night. That isn’t going to work unless you have about $15,000 or more a year in your budget just for that.  Right now, we are averaging $11.85/night for nights that we do pay. (If we divided our site cost by 365 that would be down to $3.85/night.)   The only reason that it is that high is that we occasional splurge and stay somewhere that is neither free nor takes a federal Senior (1/2 price) Pass.  Since our annualized site cost is only $1,266.55, we can afford to splurge when we want.  Some full-timers actually have a better per day rate than we do even though they have a higher annual cost. These people find campgrounds that charge around $300/month and will stay in one place for months. Our actual cost is lower because we love to volunteer for the National Park Service, so we have around five months a year where we have no site cost. But please be advised, don’t volunteer just to get a free site. Unless you love the work, it isn’t worth it. The work is very real and the hours are long, but we love it. That’s a whole other story, so let’s move on. 

We have 320 watts of photovoltaic panels on our roof and another 160 watts portable solar panels, so we can generate plenty of electricity. We also have two 224 amp hour 6 volt batteries giving us 224 amp hours of 12 volt power. This not only removed generator expenses but mean that we don’t have to look for a place to stay where we can get “pole power”.  We use propane for heat, hot water, refrigerator and cooking, but we only average $0.85/day.  That’s good because we spend a lot of our time in cooler climates where we frequently need heat. The bottom line here is that you want to be as self-sufficient as you can and have good high-efficiency equipment.  We do own a generator but we have only used it a few times in the past four plus years. The problem with generators is that they do cost money, they require maintenance and they do burn gasoline. I would also add that a generator is a pain in the gluteus maximus.  Running a generator may not seem like much when you do it while on your family vacation, but try 365 days a year. I love our photovoltaic system. The two 160 watt panels on the roof, the top-of-the-line 30 amp control unit, and installation cost us only $1,800.   The new solar technology is so amazing that I’ve actually seen our system generate power from moonlight. Granted, it wasn’t enough to run an LED bulb, but it was still generating.  And even better . . . I don’t have to start it or plug it in. I don’t have to do anything.

One of our biggest cost is towing our trailer.  We have a 2013 Dodge Ram 1500 4x4 half-ton heavy with a 5.7L Hemi gas engine, tow package and a beefed up rear end. The truck is sufficiently powerful, efficient and paid for. The modifications on the truck cost us less than $1,000.  Having experienced the benefits, I would have been willing to pay much, much more. Amazingly the beefed up rear end makes hooking up the big Blue Ox so much easier. (Again, a story for another day.)   Our truck and trailer together are about 42 feet long and weigh just shy of 10,000 pounds (5 tons). With the ½ ton heavy and the top-of-the-line Blue Ox hitch I can go just about anywhere safely. The thing is that this combo does cost money to move.  Our travel cost – based upon $3/gallon – is around 36 cents a mile.  I use $3/gallon as a base because, even though we average closer to $2.50 or less, places like California and extremely remote areas will be $3 or more. I would much rather base my budget on a higher number. We cover lots of miles each year.  Our annualized gasoline cost is $5,258.66.  Gas is our third largest budget item after food/supplies and healthcare.

You must also plan on routine maintenance.  Even though we get high quality tires and they do last more than a year, I budget for buying a set of truck and trailer tires each year. Put that with routine oil changes and an expectation of around $1,000/yr repair work, we budget around $2,800 a year for maintenance.  We went years without spending this much, but the one year that we did, we were happy that we had it in our budget.

We cannot talk about full-timing or any retirement without talking about health care.  Pamela has a little over two years before she’s eligible for Medicare.  Montana ACA is really good so our monthly budget, premiums and co-pays, for both of us is $500. Still, this is $6,000 a year and our second biggest expense. Honestly, we’ve started visiting Mexico where you can buy prescription medications at a fraction of the cost in the US. The last time we came through US Customs from Mexico we stood in an enormously long line of mostly US seniors. When the US Customs Officer asked what we brought back, almost every person said “medications”.  In the Mexican town across from Yuma, AZ they have excellent dentists.  Our friend, who is terrified of a dentist’s office, won’t go anywhere else now.  I wear contacts. Contacts aren’t cheaper but you can get a pair of bifocals with transitional lens for around $100.  These are quality products.  Mexico has universal healthcare and, as visitors, we are permitted to benefit from it, like some folks who go to Canada for medicine.

Putting this all together in a budget, we expect around $20,348.72 a year in basic living expenses; i.e. site cost, propane, gas, food/supplies and healthcare; and another $2,832.34 a year in maintenance. This comes to $1,931/month. Of course, there are other expenses.  Since anything we buy must fit into our trailer or the truck, we don’t buy a lot of “stuff”, so we don’t have a lot of incidental costs.  Because our basics are easily covered by our monthly income, we do occasionally treat ourselves to a restaurant meal. Be careful. It is easy to run up a big monthly bill by eating out, especially during those times when you’re on the road. We eat out as seldom as possible.  Pamela might make sandwiches while I’m pumping gas. Even as little as we eat out our food/supplies budget is around $150 a week. Some times that $150 is every two weeks, but we have found that we’re wiser to figure on weekly.  If you eat out even once a day, a $150 food budget isn’t going to get you through a week. 

Don’t even think that we actually live on $1,931 a month, although some full-timers actually do live on less. There always seems to be something else that we need or must pay.  My point is that by looking after the basics, which is not really difficult and far from austerity, you should have sufficient funds if both of you have Social Security or one person has Social Security and a small pension.  Pamela and I are two widows who found each other several years ago. We have lived for four years without touching any of the principal in our retirement. We have lived on Social Security and two small pensions.

One last word – home state.  I guess that’s two.  Your home state can make a big difference in your annual expenses.  I don’t worry about the taxes and fees because Montana is good to seniors, there is no sales tax, ACA is excellent, and you only pay for your trailer tag once, not annually.  We have heard that this is also true of South Dakota, Florida and Texas.  We’re extremely happy that Montana is so good to seniors because Montana really is our home. In the average year we spend 5 months in Montana and 7 months roaming around ten other states, not counting the time we take to go to the Midwest to visit our children.  Be sure to check out the residency requirements for the state of your choice. Check out the tax structure, cost of healthcare, sales and other incidental taxes, license plate fees, etc.  If you are not a true resident, check on the requirements for becoming a bona fide resident.  It could save you money.

Full-timing isn’t for everyone. You have to really love being a nomad.  It does offer the most marvelous true independence one can imagine. This is true if you, like us, prefer back roads and wilderness or interstates and RV parks. While we do spend most of our time off the grid, we have a marvelous social life and a great many friends scattered throughout western North America with whom we keep in regular contact. We meet and interact with an amazing number of like-minded nomads who become good friends.  I think you would be surprised at the number of evenings, even for those of us who frequent the wilderness, that we have friends in for dinner or visit their units. We spend many evenings with a bottle of wine, a glass or beer or tea, getting to know new friends or sharing adventures with old friends. We can almost never tell you the day or the date. Half the time we probably can’t tell you the month, and we frequently have to stop and figure out the season of the year. At this writing I can’t really tell you the local time zone.  Tonight we are staying in a lovely campground on the Colorado River at the southern end of the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. We’re only here because we saw a sign that said “Lee’s Ferry” and decided to turn. We do that routinely and have discovered some marvelous places.  We might stay here just tonight. We might be here next week. Because we have made ourselves totally self-contained, the only thing which can make us leave our beloved wilderness is the need to dump waste and take on fresh water. 

If you think this life is for you, that’s great. I would make two suggestions.  Firstly, spend a lot of time planning and crunching numbers.  It is most likely that you can afford to be a full-timer, but it is much more enjoyable when you know you have things covered.  Secondly, do a trial run before you completely cut your ties to sticks-n-bricks.   Most people we know who start out on such a ‘trial run’ never go back, but if something comes up, you’re not caught in a very difficult situation.

Elwha - Righting a century of wrong

Elwha River recovers after over 100 years under water.

Okay, friends. I'm going to make a couple of statements which, if you give them real thought and maybe a bit of research, you will know are right but which will, unfortunately, mean that some people will stop reading by the end of the paragraph. Actually, since this is a success story, I'd hope that even those who can't handle the truth about homo sapiens would want to finish.

We know that the human animal is far from the brightest bulb in the box. We have the idea that because we can abstract and do other tricks, we're smarter than nature. We all know that this is not true. We don't hold a candle to nature. We talk about wildlife management and forest management and land management, none of which would be necessary if human's hadn't mucked things up in the first place. We are so bad at trying to do what nature does that, if it weren't so sad, I laugh my gluteus maximus off.  The second truth is that we think that the homo sapiens is the most important animal on the planet. This is so far from the truth that it is ludicrous and only a religion could make such a unsubstantiated claim. Actually scientist have to admit that if bugs were to suddenly become extinct, Earth would be in serious do-do (literally) while if homo sapiens were to suddenly become extinct, Earth would start to heal. So humans aren't nearly as important as your basic cockroach or dung beetle. Sorry folks. The only thing at which humans excel are creating weapons of mass destruction and being the most invasive species known, otherwise we're at the bottom of every list. Nevertheless we are so certain of our superiority that we gauge everything in light of human comfort, convenience and survival. Sadly that's where our story begins. Happily it ends with humans making right over one-hundred years of wrong. That's worth celebrating! That's worth you knowing. And so the story of Elwha River.

Moving through the gorge
 where it had been dammed.

The Elwha River is on the Olympic Peninsula in the State of Washington and is currently inside the Olympic National Park. In the early part of the twentieth century - before 1910 - over 70,000 pounds of salmon was caught annually just in this river! To use human measurements - that is a lot of food, a lot of people fishing, which means a lot of tourism, a lot of fishing licenses, a lot hotels, restaurants, etc. Nevertheless, humans, applying their normal myopic and unintelligent ways, decided that they needed to dam the Elwha River to provide cheap electricity. Forget what such a dam would do to nature. Ah, humans' don't generally give a hoot about what happens to nature, but think about what happened to the fishing, which was providing not only food but a great deal of money to the local economy. Well, obviously no one took time to think. Very likely someone, or several someones, was/were seeing dollar signs in their dreams and didn't care what happened to the local economy or nature because they were going to get rich!

Two dams were built on the Elwha River which created Miller Lake. It looked lovely. People came from near and far to see it and use it for recreation. The stream looked healthy. It flowed down to the ocean providing a post card view.

Sadly no one bothered to determine whether what they had done was really environmentally healthy. I mean, who would really want to know that they had destroyed an unreplacable piece to nature's scheme? We're humans, after all, and know everything. (NOT!) The lake was actually doing great harm beneath the beautiful placid surface. The dams blocked over 95% of the salmon's natural habitat, which meant that the salmon vanished. The new river caused erosion both in the canyon and at the mouth of the river. While it was pretty and gave humans a lot of pleasure, the project was an environmental nightmare.

A remnant of the dam.

Now this is where the story get good. I could go on for quite some time about the damage that these dams did to that entire valley and portion of the Olympic peninsula, but I'm really anxious to get to the good part of the story. It isn't that often that I'm able to show what humans did right!

In 2012 and 2014 the dams were removed! Yes, both of the dams on the Elwha River were removed so that the river could return to its natural state . . . so that it could return to what nature intended. I'm sure it wasn't an easy project, and it did do some significant damage to human campgrounds, roads and other structures. However, the Elwha River has returned to its natural course. With the help of humans who were intent upon learning from nature, instead of trying to "manage" nature, plants were returned and the salmon are back. The area which was once slowly dying is now rapidly returning to life.

Today I was up where the upper dam was located. There were a great number of cars filled with people driving a road that is barely wide enough for two cars to pass so that they might see what humans might call a miracle. It really wasn't a miracle, unless you want to call humans finally admitting that we'd screwed up and have tried to make amends a miracle. But I was so happy to see not only the return of the rule of nature but to see that people were there to witness it. Hopefully they also learned. There are a number of exhibits that truthfully explain the damage we did and the efforts to rectify what we had done. People were reading them. I certainly hope they were absorbing what they were reading.

It is hard to tell you how witnessing this lifted me up. Most of the time I am quite embarrassed and ashamed of my species, but this wasn't one of those times. This was a time when homo sapiens - humans - showed that we can admit that we've been wrong and do our best to give control of the earth back to Unci Maka (grandmother Earth) where it belongs. When you spend most of your life being ashamed of what you're species has done to this planet, Elwha River is a wonderful experience.

Elwha River proves that we can accept that we were arrogant, thoughtless and totally stupid without it bring an end to our species. Just a bruise to our fragile ego. It proves that we can realize and accept that ONLY nature - Unci Maka - can properly manage life on this planet. Nature, Unci Maka, that mysterious force or whatever it may be, was successfully managing life on planet earth long before the narcissistic humans ever arrived. As one person explained it ... if from the beginning of earth to today was a football field, humans first showed up on Earth 1/8th of an inch from the inzone. That means we've only been here 0.000035% of the Earth's existence. Doesn't exactly qualify us as experts.

Elwha River is just one great example of how we can return planet Earth to its rightful, and only successful, manager . . . nature. Humans are still enjoying the area. Hopefully they will soon be able to provide their own food by catching salmon from the river. This is our only hope as a species. This is our only hope for this planet. We must stop being the destructive, invasive species and do our best to become a productive part of nature, returning the control of planet Earth to its only successful manager ... nature.  

Season's End

The air is crisp and dry. The sun, which has been covered and filtered by the smoke of forest fire for over a month, sits lower and lower in the southern sky but is shinning brightly which, when combined with a gentle breeze, gives a sense of life and well-being to the forest around us.

It is September 19th and another campground season at Glacier National Park in northwestern Montana is coming to an end. The aspens, larch and what few deciduous trees we have are beginning to turn and shed their leaves. The berry patches, which dominate the undergrowth around us, are beginning to turn brown with only the Snowberry still having fruit. Only the chipmunks eat the Snowberry, so we have seen few bears. A doe with two of this years fawns routinely passes Nitsitapiisinni (Blackfeet for 'our way of life'), our twenty-foot camper-trailer home, munching on grasses, bushes and small trees.

Walking down the narrow ribbon of asphalt that constitutes the road through the deserted campground, the only sounds are those of nature around us. The creaking of the tall lodgepole pines is sometimes accompanied by the sound of a small rodent scurrying through the thicket, and occasionally a Raven will call or greet you as you pass. The campsites are vacant with the only sign of the tremendous number of people who had passed through this campground being some charred wood in the fire pit or a tree branch leaning up against a picnic table that had once been used as a make-shift walking stick by a young camper who was told she couldn't take it home.

You can't help but think of the people whom you have encountered over the seasons - those who lifted you up and those who caused you grief. There were the two women from some Atlantic coast state who came just to find the Varied Thrush. We had told them they were all over the area. They were so excited. There were the unbelievable number of campers who rented a U-haul trailer for their camping equipment. We always wondered what they left home. Then there were also those who forgot something. We keep a collection of things from can openers to sleeping bags and blankets for them to borrow. We met full-timers, like ourselves, who loved to swap information about places to visit. Families and young couples determined to go from Florida to Alaska or visit every National Park were always fun. One time we had a French family - Mom, Dad and two small children - who were riding bicycles from the east coast to west. There was also a couple in their late 60's who started their bicycle trip on the Delaware coast and were heading toward Alaska. And we can't forget all of the singles traveling the country in cars, vans and tents. There seem to be a lot more single women than single men on the road.

There was never a dull moment when all your sites were taken by 8:30 or 9:00 in the morning and you were trying to help folks find a place for the night. Walking the loops could take hours with all of the questions in the morning about trails and places to visit and all of the adventures they wanted to share as they began returning in the late afternoon. There is something refreshing hearing stories about animals you know well and trails you've hiked many times told by excited visitors seeing them for the first time.

Now all those campers are memories, ghosts of campers past who sit in the empty campsites as we walk by. The silence of the forest is wonderful and serene, and as I look around I am reminded of walking the loops late at night. That and morning rounds are my favorite. The campers are almost all asleep. Campfires are out and the only light, other than that of the moon, are flashlights and lanterns inside the occasional tent.

It has been a good season. We made lots of new friends and were reunited with many friends from seasons past. We have seen new rangers mature and watched old ranger retire. The rest of us talk about what we will do in the off-season and look forward to seeing each other again next year. We enjoyed a phenomenal spring, had another record breaking summer and survived a heartbreaking natural disaster.

With our home securely attached to the hitch of our big red half-ton heavy we move slowly toward the west gate for the last time in 2017. We pass through the village of West Glacier, which is now little more than a ghost town, and pull onto US-2 heading west. Farewell, Glacier National Park, until we come home again.

Our Sweet Avalanche

Through out this entire ordeal of forest fire and evacuations one place is always on our minds. Pamela and I don't speak of it very often because the subject usually ends up with one or both of us in tears. Memories are bitter sweet because we don't know what condition it is in. Fears and concerns are real every time we look at a fire update. That place is our campground, Avalanche.

We have known Avalanche ever since we came to Glacier National Park. Our good friend, Jane, had been the Campground Host (CGH) there for several years. We always thought it would be neat to work at Avalanche to see what we thought, but we didn't want to risk losing our place at Sprague Creek. We finally got our chance this years and quickly fell in love.

Avalanche isn't really a place for first-timer CGH or for CGHs who have a problem living fairly well off-the-grid for months and being so isolated that there are many times that you just have to make do on your own. It is sixteen miles into the park from the west gate. Pamela and I spend about 70-80% of our time living off-the-grid when we're not at Glacier and we each have over 5,000 hours of experience in the park. Pamela's forte is the natural sciences and my avocation is wildlife, so we really enjoy those few days in early May when there are still patches of snow on the ground, before we open the campground and our closest neighbors are those living in the government housing outside the west entrance gate, making us the only humans within most of the 1,500 square mile park. Being really alone with our trees and rocks and animals is the highlight of every year.

Avalanche is nestled in the mountains about five miles beyond
the end of the lake.

The CGH site at Avalanche does have water and we dump into a make-shift cover over the septic system. Our water actually comes from a spring flowing from the side of Mount Cannon which we see from our campsite. It is wonderful water and the man in charge of maintaining the totally gravity fed system really hates that he is required by law to put a minimal amount of chemicals in the water. Mount Cannon is an 8,700 foot filter. There is no electricity, nor is there telephone, internet, TV or public radio. Our boss' boss' boss was gracious enough to get us a satelite phone this year. Between the trees, mountains and latitude it didn't work, but we appreciated the effort. We have a full one meter antenna on our handheld park radio. It works most of the time. That is our only link to the outside world. We are totally self-contained. We have two 160 watt photovoltic panels on the roof that, even being under the trees, daily recharged our two 224 amp hour AMG batteries. That more than fills our electrical needs. We don't like, or need, air conditioning and only occasionally use a microwave when it is available. Of course we don't waste our energy on a microwave. We do have a flat screen television and blueray DVD payer which we occasionally use to watch movies. Pamela would like a hair dryer but we make do. So as you can see, Avalanche was a great match for us.

Avalanche is an eighty-seven site campground divided into two loops - loop A having 53 sites and loop B having 34. A rather wide barrier of trees divides us from the Going-to-the-Sun Road on the north-west side. McDonald Creek flows just beyond the road which we can hear rushing toward the lake on spring nights. Beyond the creek is McPartland Mtn. It is one of a line of mountains that forms the northeastern side of this leg of the McDonald valley. On our north-east side we have the popular and magnificent Trail of Cedars and Avalanche Lake Trails which runs along the base of the majestic Mount Cannon and the beautiful Avalanche Creek. It too can be heard at night pounding and carving rocks like an ancient ritual. From the campground we can also see Bearhat Mountain which is just southeast of Mount Cannon. On our east southeast side in Mount Brown with its beautiful trail through the last of the temperate rain forest consisting predominantly of 4-500 year old cedars and hemlocks. Once these gigantic trees are gone they will never come back. With climate change there is just not enough moisture to grow a rain forest. The fact that this is an ancient rain forest is helping it to withstand the raging forest fire. The marvelous trees are what gives Avalanche its unique character which draws people back again and again.

McPartland Mountain

We had never paid any attention to the camping patterns of Avalanche before we worked there. I had assumed that recreation vehicles and trailers were the predominant mode of camping, and I was wrong. Our average throughout the season was about 70-75 tent campers and 10-15 RVs. (Oh, just FYI. If it has wheels it is considered an RV, therefore a person in a van or sleeping in their car is considered an RV.)

The most popular area in the campground is between site 61, the CGH site, and site 75. These are in a beautiful and open area under a heavy canopy of cedars. Because of the size and age of the trees very little grows under them. The canopy is so dense that we have seen times that it rained for over an hour before the forest floor actually got wet.

After we were forced to evacuate Avalanche we spent two nights in the Apgar Campground and then went to take care of a loop at the Fish Creek Campground. We had helped out at Fish Creek for a couple of weeks a few years ago, so we knew the campground well. Opening it didn't turn out to be a very good idea. With the growing smoke from the fire there were no campers. The only reason I tell the story is that Fish Creek was a reservation campground that had closed for the season. We were re-opening one of their loops for first-come camping. The woman in charge of Fish Creek was very concerned that nothing happen to her campground. She asked me to take a picture of locking the gate so that she would know things were as they should be when we closed it. That was our feeling toward Avalanche. When the evacuation order came we made sure that we were the ones that checked it out and ultimately locked the gate.

Mount Cannon

Pamela and I listen carefully to the fire reports and have spent many evenings at the foot of Lake McDonald watching Glacier burn. We don't need to say anything to each other. We know that we are both looking at that spot at the foot of Mount Cannon sixteen miles away and wondering if it is okay. We know that, because of the historic and environmental importance of the area, fire teams have installed a system called 'Rain for Rent' to wet and protect Avalanche Campground and the Trail of Cedars. That makes us feel better, but it doesn't take away our concern. Each day we study the topographic maps with overlay from the flyover the night before. We know that each of us is studying that small point near the top of the closure . . . . Avalanche.

We have been eating smoke for over a month. We have doggedly stayed and worked wherever the park needs us. Most of this is because we are dedicated members of the team, but a lot of it is because we don't want to leave before we know the fate of our sweet Avalanche.

We will return to Avalanche next season no matter what happens. If nothing else we will be able to watch new life nestled among our dear friends Cannon, Bearhat, Brown and McPartland. We hope beyond hope that the wonderful rainforest will still be there. If not, we will be there to carry on its memory.

Avalanche, we may not be able to see you before we must leave, but we live in the hopes that it will rain and snow enough before we go that we can leave you with some confidence that you are tucked into a blanket of snow, safe until the spring.