Into the Mines at Butte

 

Mountain Consolidated Mining Tower:  "A mile high and a mile deep"

The ultimate destination of our journey was Butte, Montana.  It was the place where Dwight spent his first year out of college in 1957.  With a degree in geology in hand, he had gotten employment as a mine engineer trainee with Anaconda Mining.  At the time, Butte was a wide-open mining town.  Dwight was training to go to the Anaconda copper mines in Chile, but when the price of copper tanked, he was offered the choice between becoming a hard rock miner or being laid off.  He worked in the mines, underground, for about 4 months before joining the Army to do his required military service.  

The Berkley Pit in 1984

With a population around 33,500+, Butte is the 5th largest city in Montana.  It still depends on mining as its prime economic driver, along with the 2,500 students plus faculty at Montana Technical University, and also considerable employment driven by the Superfund site.  Dwight enjoyed trying to find his old haunts; I enjoyed exploring the mining history and the small-town quiet.  You can safely make a spontaneous U-turn in the middle of a main downtown street without worry.  Mining shaft towers dot the landscape (more than 200), although most are currently dormant.  The landscapes are stunning with the original upper town mining district now joined to a lower town in the valley, and the whole is surrounded by rolling, green hills.   A large part of the Butte hill is covered by the terraced Berkley Open Pit mine which was only added in the 1950's and is currently the largest Superfund Site in the US.  It is one mile long by ¹⁄₂ mile wide with an approximate depth of 1,780 feet, and is filled to a depth of about 900 feet with water that is heavily acidic, filled with toxic minerals. 

The morning after our arrival, we visited the World Museum of Mining, a slightly over-blown title for

Dwight at the World Museum of Mining

 a quiet re-creation of an old mining town.  We booked tickets for the underground tour, but since Dwight was in a transporter chair with small wheels, we decided it wouldn't make the trip on gravelly, damp paths.  Silverton's Old One Hundred mine with its cable cars taking visitors below ground gets the prize for mine tours. We then visited the Granite Mountain Memorial, a memorial to all the miners (over 2500) who had been lost in mining disasters in the Butte mines. 

We could see a storm approaching from the monument on the hill and decided to take the Tourist Bureau's trolley tour in the afternoon. 

Granite Hill Memorial 

Granite Hill Memorial
 (Did I mention there were no tourist hoards?)

The storm raged about us as we toured all the architectural wonders of the old town in the trolley;  plastic flaps protected us from the storm. The old town brought to mind the late 19th century buildings in Durango  -- Copper King Victorian Mansions; old, classy hotels; the red light district; a Masonic Lodge; labor union meeting halls; Chinatown, which still boasted restaurants started more than 100 years ago and still owned by the original family .  All in all, I enjoyed Butte much more than Yellowstone.  I guess I'm just a culture/history tourist rather than a landscape tourist.   We already live in the most beautiful wilderness area in the world, and we'll be happy to get back there!

Timing is Everything

While Yellowstone National Park was not the goal of our journey, it appeared to be a great opportunity to visit the Park since we were passing close by. I had never been there and Dwight was there so long ago as to not remember. It was bad timing. First, it is about a 50 mile drive from Jackson to the Yellowstone Park entrance, and then another 50 miles or so to the Old Faithful complex, all narrow two-lane roads.  Second, the road was packed with vehicles, slowing down, speeding up, stopping.  It was a totally exhausting drive with no energy left to visit separate sites.  It appeared that everybody and his brother had decided Yellowstone was the perfect post-COVID vacation. The Park was mobbed. To make matters worse, access to the facilities were still limited because of COVID restrictions. People were allowed into the Old Faithful Inn only as other people departed because of visitor limits.  No restaurants were open with seating, but were limited to take-out.  Then you had to scramble around for seating outside on benches or any empty space available. Bad timing for visiting Yellowstone. 

On the other hand, our timing for the Old Faithful geyser was impeccable.  We gathered up our pulled pork sandwiches from the Old Faithful Lodge and found seating just outside of the Lodge facing the geyser.  We had time to finish our sandwiches and bingo...eruption. Almost like it had been waiting for us. 

Dwight and his transporter chair
after Old Faithful eruption

It was amazing how quickly the crowds disappeared once the geyser settled down--sort of a "been there; done that" moment.  Fortunately, we had packed the transporter chair for Dwight and I think otherwise it would have been very difficult. 

We had another opportunity to visit the Park three days later on our way from Butte, MT, to Cody, WY. We detoured from the interstate to see the North part of the Park.  The approach to the north entrance at Gardiner, MT, is a beautiful drive following the Yellowstone River.  The Northern Gate was not as crowded as the Southern Entrance (where we had waited almost half an hour to get in) but once in, we again found the out-of-sight crowds at Mammoth Hot Springs.  We were prepared, however, and had brought sandwiches for a picnic since we knew we would not find any open restaurants in Yellowstone.  Unfortunately, we were unable to find an empty picnic table there, or along the road, until we finally reached Canyon Village where there were actually parking places and a couple of free tables.  The Northern Great Loop Road was a prettier drive than the southern road, but again it was filled with cars often blocking the entire road because someone thought they saw a bear.  We saw one bear and one moose while sitting in stopped traffic--not a big deal, but I guess I'm a little jaded on wildlife viewing after living in Africa.

So much for Yellowstone National Park.  I think I prefer the San Juans. 

Jackson, Wyoming and Grand Teton National Park

 Our lodging for the next three nights would be the Jackson Hampton Inn.  (BTW, Jackson is the town and Jackson Hole is the mountain valley where the town is located.)  It, like all lodging in the Grand Teton/Yellowstone area, was terribly overpriced, but turned out to be a nice stay.  We had a large accessible room which even had a whirlpool!  But what I'll call the COVID overcrowding began before we even got to Jackson.  A long, single-file, line of cars, RV's, SUV's, trucks and even off-road looking vehicles queued up for a slow crawl into town.  It took over 15 minutes to creep our way to the main square and turn to our lodging. 

Elk Antler Gateway to Jackson Main Square

We used the next day to explore the 40-mile long range of the Grand Teton peaks which stretch along the Wyoming border with Montana.  The park was established in 1929.  The Jackson Hole valley, which runs along the peaks and terminates at Yellowstone National Park, was acquired by John D. Rockefeller in the 1930's and eventually donated to the US to preserve the land for the nation.  That act was strongly opposed by locals who wanted to keep the land in private hands, a small indication of the kind of politics which has ruled Wyoming since.   

The next day we drove the entire length of the park, ending our trek at Jackson Lake Lodge with yet another magnificent view of the peaks.  Park services in all the national parks are still limited because of 

View of the Grand Tetons from the deck of Jackson Lake Lodge

ongoing COVID restrictions.  The restaurants at the Lodge were all closed and we were forced to buy take out and fight for a place to sit down and eat it.  But it was a relaxing day of beautiful views.  We returned to Jackson and a nice dinner at The Local bar and restaurant on the square after another long wait to enter the town. 

View of the Grand Tetons from the interior hall of Jackson Lake Lodge

From Big Sky to Big Teats

Big Skies of Wyoming

The drive from Broomfield, CO, to Casper, WY, was less than exciting.  We took the "no highway" option on Google Maps and saw a lot of modern American strip centers, fast food joints, auto repair shops and stop lights.  One night in Casper and off the next day for a drive across the prairies.  Wyoming is justly noted for its Big Skies...it reminded me of West Texas, only greener.  If you're wondering if you should pack all your designer masks for a road trip in the Western US, don't.  Wyoming has one of the lowest vaccination rates in the US, but there is rarely a mask to be seen on anyone other than employees who are obviously required to wear them.  

We only made one stop while crossing the state.  That was at a state sponsored rest stop, one of the cleanest I've ever seen.  It was totally fed by wind and/or sun energy and had clean, flush, paper-free toilets. Yes, we can do it, America!

Wyoming rest stop

We were relieved to finally see the peaks of the Grand Tetons in the distance. The mountains were calling us and we had to go. 

The Grand Tetons

Road Trippin'

 After the year+ of COVID 19 fears, restrictions, and solitude, what more could one ask than a couple of weeks on the road?  Miles of highway with the only purpose being to get away from "it all."  What must you do to get back the sense that God is in Her Heaven and all's right with the world?  We're heading north.  First stop is a touch of family/normalcy/mask-less love in Bloomfield, CO; second stop the beauties of our glorious USA, Yellowstone, WY; third stop, a return to the past with Dwight's first job out of college (1957), the mines of Butte, MT; and finally, back home to Durango with relief and appreciation for all the blessings of our lives. 

First stop, Broomfield, Colorado, to visit our daughter and her husband.  I had stupidly planned a mid-week visit to people still involved in the Monday to Friday world of work; however, it ended well: two lovely evening visits for dinner and drinks with family, and a day spent at the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder which we had often driven past but never stopped to stroll and visit.  

The Pearl Street Mall prompted thoughts of how downtown Durango could be turned into a Pearl Street Mall.  No!  Please!  Durango is a "real" town.  I remember that Durango promoted itself as being "real" when we first moved there and I wondered what that meant.  Definitions are important here, and after 16 years, I now understand that I'm not anxious to see Durango turned into a Pearl Street Mall, although I am still unable to explain why.  The Durango vibe is a bit more urban than it used to be, but not so urban or touristy yet as to be a pedestrian mall targeted to tourists.  I can still drive downtown and see people I know. I still know the subtleties of local politics as reported in the Herald.  Durango is REAL.

Day drinking on the Pearl Street Mall