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Published: September 17th 2009
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Heyburn State Park, near St. Marie, Idaho
Wed Sept 2-Fri Sept 4: As we pulled out of Hells Gate Sate Park, we stopped at the Visitor Center and saw some wonderful wildlife exhibits and a 20 minute video of the travels through Idaho of Lewis and Clark, assisted by the young Indian woman Sacajawea. How on earth they persevered is just amazing to me, up over Lolo Pass and on and on.
For those of you unfamiliar with the story of Sacajawea, when she was a young girl, her people, the
Shoshone of what is now western Montana, had been raided by another group of Indians and many were killed. She was kidnapped and force-marched east hundreds of miles to North Dakota where she was kept as a slave. When she got older she was married off to an older man, a French fur trader. He was hired by Lewis and Clark to act as interpretor for the Corps of Discovery during their journey to the Pacific. Sacajawea was just about 16 years old and had a newborn son.
They travelled west and west and west and when they got back near her traditional homelands, they encountered a
group who spoke her language and it turned out that the chief was none other than her long lost brother! This connection was very instrumental in Lewis and Clark getting the horses they needed to cross over the high Rockies which still lay ahead of them.
Sacajawea accompanied the party all the way to the mouth of the Columbia River and back again the next year. The only time the baby got sick was when it was teething while they were wintering near the Pacific Coast. Because the tribes in the region never took women with them on their war parties, the presence of a woman and child with the group gave a long distance message that the travellers came in peace. Her presence alone may have saved them with some groups.
Newly enlightened as to the local history, I realized the meaning behind the naming behind the two twin towns sitting across the river from each other: Clarkston, WA and Lewiston, Idaho. Duh! So I pondered over the names of the next towns along our route: Moscow (a lovely little town where we had morning tea in the city park), then Potlatch, then Princeton and Harvard. You
figure.
As we headed north we decided to have a hike in the White Pine Forest. We figured we’d hike ½ hour in and then turn a come back. But about 20 minutes in we encountered a large pile of scat which we were unable to identify. Now Les Griffith had instructed us on how to tell the difference between black bear poo and grizzly bear poo. Black bear’s has blueberries in it and grizzly bear’s has bells in it! (For you Australians, who may not get this, hikers are advised to wear bells on their ankles when travelling through grizzly bear country, so as not to startle them.) No berries or bells here, but we decided to turn around!
We arrived at Heyburn State Park in the late afternoon, and we stayed for the next three days. To our delight there were 8 wild deer foraging in the picnic ground by the lake where we had our dinner, and the next morning we saw 7 wild turkeys, 2 mothers and five young. We were surprised by the very tiny squirrels with black bushy tails that ran through our campsite.
A traditional path of the Couer d'Alene
Indians runs through the park along the lakefront. We hiked along it till we came to a high bridge for walkers and bike riders and at the top of one pilon there was a HUGE nest made of sticks, with a large vocal chick in it, which we took to be an eagle, but later found out it was an osprey.
The park included a substantial marsh area with a boardwalk through it and signs pointing out the flora and fauna. The day was warm and the thick wild rice grass was tipped with sunlight and hovered over by multitudes of dragon flies, deep red with gold wings and iridescent blue like those little fish called tetras. Phil spotted a swimming creature, which I got to see, too, but we could never decide if it was a muskrat or a beaver.
On the second morning we rented a canoe and went gliding across the open water and into the marsh. It was magic! A blue heron, cormorants, seagulls, fish, and barely a sound except for bird calls.
Then suddenly there was a terrific roar from the hillside and we figured it was another
freight-trainquake. But no, it
was an extended party of bikers, enjoying the start of the Labor Day weekend. Phil, ever the statistician, said, “There must be a hundred of them!” And what do you know, they pulled in next to the park headquarters—it was a rest stop for them. So as they left I decided to count them. 96.
Next day we got up early for another foray on the lake, this time we took a kayak. Ooh, a bit wobbly, but we got the hang of it. This time we were able to go further into the marsh, and were frequently overflown by small flocks of red-winged blackbirds and other groups of birds we later found out were gold headed blackbirds. The water plants on the outer edges of the marsh had delicate little flowers down by the water, and there were forests of underwater weed which we glided over, a bit like the bommies at the reef. We discovered a very large beaver dam tucked away behind some cattails and a hawk flew very close to us and then turned on a dime and was off again.
The two mornings on the water were a dream come true for me.
Labor Day weekend is also Paul Bunyon Days in the local town of St. Marie. Coming from a small town, I know how exciting it was when the carnival came, and people told us how lucky we were to be there then, but somehow I wasn’t in the mood.
As we left town I was just left wondering what sort of impact there was on the local primary school children to be sent to a school with a giant statue of a man wielding an axe out the front!!
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Ilisha Helfman
non-member comment
You're giving me a well needed rest!
It's wonderful traveling with you. So happy you're keeping me posted!