Adventures of geo  

stories based on the life and times of geo - updated November 9, 2008

Fishing for Moose

Glacier Park is a great place to see wildlife and beautiful scenery. If you haven’t gone, you are missing out on one of the most beautiful places in the world.  Glacier Park is located in northwestern Montana, and joins with Waterton National Park in Canada. This park is named “The Peace Park” as it is in both countries. It is also one of the most peaceful areas in the world, at times…….

As you have probably figured by now I enjoy two things most, adventure and fishing. Seems that the two of them go together, at least for me. Dawna, Taylor and I were spending a week in Glacier Park the summer of ‘99. We had arrived at Many Glacier where we stayed at the Swiftcurrent Lodge. This is our most favorite of places in the park, as from the two lodges you can take off to see glaciers, waterfalls, lakes and animals. The clue here is adventure and fishing again!

One morning we got up early to hike towards Swiftcurrent Pass.  It was the end of June, so there was still much snow in the higher elevations. We weren't really sure how far we would go. On the way up we passed by Fishercap Lake then headed up the trail to Red Rock Lake. The trail is easy going and was beautiful this time of the year. The bear grass was just coming out and paintbrush was also just starting to bloom. Once at Red Rock Lake, we decided that the snow was a bit more than we wanted to travel, and Taylor was whooped! Hiking at 7000 plus feet can wind anyone!  We headed back towards our lodge.

On the way back, we saw Fishercap Lake again. I liked the sound of that, and had never seen a fish wear a cap before, so I dragged Dawna and Taylor off the trail and we headed towards this lake about 200 yards. We showed up at the shoreline, and found a nice spot tucked in by a bunch of pines. Nice place to sit on the bank and have some lunch. The sun was out which meant a beer and of course my trusty little fishing pole.  Never go anywhere with out my pack rod and all the necessary items to entice a fish in Montana.

We all took off our packs, grabbed our lunches and I of course had to set up the ol fishing pole and tossed it out in front of us in this crystal clear water. Sun shining down, opened a beer and we started munching on lunch. In front of us was this most beautiful lake with a great view of the north face of Grinnel Point.

This is a spectacular mountain that juts out for everyone to see. The day before, we watched as a dozen head of bighorn sheep journeyed across snowfields up high on it’s northern face.  They were heading for the southern side to get some sun, and fresh food. Watching them was interesting, it reminded me of a couple guys at a mall with their girl friends or wives. The guys were walking out front, testing the snow, when all of a sudden they sensed the girls were not following. They would stop, turn around and look back as the group of 10 women were window shopping on the slope, as if there was something to buy! You could see the sheep grunting at them, “Come on girls” we don’t have all day, there is greener grass on the other side of this rock. Of course the girls are thinking, hold it, there is grass right here, why do we have to march across this rock and snow, when we could just as easily stop and check out this store! After a few more grunts, and moaning, the girls would continue on with the guys march to who knows what on the other side. What the girls didn’t know, was the guys, being logical thinking and all, knew there was a sunny slope on the south side, with more food and warmth. There may have been a few cold ones too, for all we knew waiting for them.

So there we were, looking out and daydreaming about the other day when these sheep were passing by. Just about to daze off and count some other sheep. The peace was about to be broken up…..All of a sudden something was running down the shore line right towards us.  We were just off the water by five feet, and in the trees enough that we couldn’t see ten feet down the shore. I am thinking, what fool is running down the lake towards us, and before we could even figure out what was happening, a cow moose is standing right in front of us, not 15 feet away in the lake!

Our first instincts were to freeze, but then my instincts don’t work especially like others, and I am thinking oh my god! This 1000 pound animal is standing in the water on top of my fishing line! I started to reach down for my pole, thinking this one is not getting away! As I turned just slightly looking for my fishing pole, I saw Dawna, and she said, “Don’t even think of it!” Dawna has this sense about me.  Long time ago she started to understand how my mind works.  She has more than once, not only saved my life, but her’s and Taylor’s too.  She knew what I was thinking; fishing pole, water, big moose, what a trophy this would make. Well about the time I reach down, the moose turns around to look in back of her.  Dawna is trying to get the camera lens cover off, Taylor is sitting there totally freaked out in a daze, Dawna is whispering “Don’t move”, I notice the camera she is messing with, I grab it out of her hand, and take a picture. Just at that instant, a calf, not a month old comes swimming up to the cow from behind. 

I take another couple pictures, just as Dawna says again, don’t move. At this time it is starting to sink in, which takes awhile for me sometimes, that we were fifteen feet from a cow moose and her calf. Big trouble. You see, if a bear ever trees you, after a few hours they go away, if they don’t climb the tree or push it over. If you get treed by a mother moose and she has a calf, you need to figure on spending the month there, as she will pitch tent until you come down, then she will hoof you to death.  We are thinking at this time, hoofing is not good. Real bad in fact, almost as bad as getting chowed down by a grizzly! We freeze. She steps over my fishing line, and the calf somehow swam right over the top of it and they headed down the lake, where they took off through the lake outlet and into a swampy area.

After catching our breaths, we all have a sigh of relief. Can’t believe we were that close to a cow moose and calf, and they kept going. Dawna couldn’t believe I actually thought of catching her. Of course with 4-pound test line and an ultralite reel, I suspect the fight would not have lasted long. Besides I wasn’t really sure what the limit was for fishing for moose!

7 years later, we took Taylor's 7 year old daughter Meg and his girl friend Amy to the same lake in Glacier Park. We decided to go back to the same spot to have lunch again ....never believing what would happen again! The baby moose, grew up, and joined us for lunch! As we had our afternoon snack, the baby moose walked out into the lake and proceeded to have lunch herself. The two days we stayed at Glacier Park we saw five moose and two grizzly, one swimming up a another lake just north of this one.

Same moose! The baby all grown up!

Golfing with a Grizzly

On the west side of Glacier National Park is a beautiful golf course. Back in the ‘70s this was a great place to fish for kokoanee salmon. Back then you were allowed to use big snagging hooks, which were weighted. These fish swam up the Flathead River from Flathead Lake in Montana, to spawn in various streams near Canada. Apgar Creek had easy access near this golf course. One must have a heavy pole with 30 or 40 pound test line and lots of these big weighted treble hooks.  On a good day, one could bring home 70 salmon in a couple hours of fishing. I had just bought a brand new graphite pole just for salmon snagging, one that would do the trick, and not break.

Dawna went with me, not to fish, but to sit in the car and read a book about some one on some great adventure. Dawna reads a lot.  She has probably read over 1000 books in the past 20 years. I read a book once, James Mitchner’s The Covenant, over 1000 pages. The story was about South Africa, which is where I was when I picked up the book. Took me over a year and a half to read it. In the time I read the book I had many of my own adventures. I have always told Dawna, rather than read books, I wanted to be in the books she read. Thus my stories. We got to the spot, I jumped out of the car, and left her to her adventures, while I took off on my own.

When I got to my fishing hole, another 20 people had the same idea. One thing about snagging for salmon, where they tend to congregate, so do people. In snagging salmon one must have a strong arm, big pole and heavy line.  You throw this quarter pound treble hook into the  other side of the river, then jerk back with all your might, in hopes of snagging one of these salmon by the tail or what ever the hook grabbed.  The harder you jerked the more chance of snagging one. Now this is were lies the problem. When one jerks a big fishing pole with 30 pound test and a quarter pound weighted snagging hook, the hook might just come flying out of the water right back towards the jerk that jerked it to begin with.  These are the chances 1) It goes sailing over the top of your head in back of you 2) It comes out a bit low, but straight at you in which case one must be very good at dodging such things, quickly or 3) The guy next to you must be a good dodger too.  Can you imagine standing along side some fool with a big fishing pole while both of you are jerking as hard as you can, and you got 20 other fools doing the same from both sides of the stream? Got the point! Hopefully you don’t get the point of the hook! Not a real safe place!

So rather than risk loosing an eye or getting into a nasty fist fight with the guy next to me with my hook attached to one of his body parts, I decided to move down the stream to a safer place.  This stream is full of big rocks, probably because it was in the Rocky Mountains I suppose. Kind of hard to walk on these boulders mostly in the one foot diameter size. But salmon are good to eat, and good for you!

I found a spot, where the stream emptied into a nice hole, where salmon would congregate right after some fast water. Looked like a good spot. I was there for a few cast, and then I had that strange feeling that something was watching me.  Had that feeling many times before, and didn’t always like that feeling. I turned around, and five feet in back of me was this bank about six feet high.  Above the bank was this big service berry bush standing about twelve feet tall, and above this bush was standing the biggest grizzly bear I had ever seen in my life!  Which life appeared to be ending here shortly! I immediately grabbed my .44 pistol and pointed it at the bear with my other free hand. I am looking darn near straight up at this bear, while it is feeding on service berries, standing on its rear legs to get the choice berries at the top of this bush. As I am looking down the eleven inch barrel of my .44, I am thinking this bear is way big, probably take more than one shot, and it is way too close! I need to leave the premises!

I slowly started to back up, praying this bear will be too interested in it’s berries, and not see me, or think I would be tasty too.  Ever try being quiet when your heart is beating 1000 miles an hour, backing up over boulders that were not meant to be stepped on? As I am backing up I then start to think of what bears do to you, so I am thinking at this point I must get up the bank, run through about 30 yards of brush and trees to get out on to the golf course where someone will see me, and save me from this peril.

Here is the problem about grizzlies. They don’t really care what they eat or who. These guys can run 45 miles an hour, compared to the 14 miles an hour an athlete can run on a track. For me running through brush or on boulders, if I can go 1 mile per hour, that’s pretty good. OK, so they catch you.  Once they have you, pretty much you are done for. They can crush any bone in your body with one bite, and tend to only eat the better parts. Not a good picture. But that’s not all, they usually can’t finish you off, so they dig a hole to bury you in.  Of course this whole time you are trying to get away without a couple of your arms or legs attached completely.  They would probably dig a deeper hole, but by you trying to pull your self along the ground with your teeth, the bear is thinking, better finish this hole quickly, before you get away. They fetch you and toss what’s left into this shallow grave. Now being that you didn’t give the bear a chance to finish the hole, you are probably not completely covered, and probably still hanging out of this hole. And if this isn’t bad enough, you’re looking up at this bear, wondering now what? As if enough hasn’t gone wrong, it lifts its leg and urinates all over you.  This is to make sure that some other bear won’t come and finish you off.

Now these thoughts are going through my head, and I am thinking there are only two options. 1) once the bear catches you, lie still so he can dig a deep enough hole, that he will completely cover you, and not urinate on you, or 2) run across the woods as fast as you can for safety!

I chose option 2, and took off running up this bank, and through the brush and trees for my life, pistol in one had and brand new fishing pole with 30 pound test line and this huge snagging hook..  Got the picture, …. One must ask, why would he hold on to this fishing pole at this point in time……well, it was new, just bought it, and a new fishing pole is expensive. So here I am high tailing it through the woods, and this darn snagging hook is attaching it self to every bush and tree it comes in contact with.  I am not giving up this pole, wish I would have maybe used 15 pound test line at this point, instead of 30 pound test line, and dragging every thing with me as I go tearing through these woods. And then all of a sudden I am out of the forest, trees and brush hanging off of me, a pole in one hand and this .44 pistol with an eleven inch barrel in the other hand!

As I landed on this golfing green, there stands this retired gentleman, with his putter in hand about to go for a par. He was probably having a great peaceful day until I came busting out of the brush. He looks up at me, I yell “BEAR!” I think he thought I said “BOO!” and took off running for his golf cart, left his ball and took off across the course, away from this crazy man with brush hanging off of him caring a big stick (my brand new fishing pole) in one hand and a big gun in the other. I bet he never played that course again, and may have had a heart attack trying to get away.

I was safe. I walked across the course dragging all the foliage with me, my new fishing pole and my gun, got to the car where Dawna was reading about some one on an adventure. She looked up at me and asked…..where’s the fish?

Pretty Kitty the Great Hunter

While living in North Carolina, we lived in a nice house in the woods on Woodpecker Lane. Rightfully named for the animals that abounded in this little neighborhood, on the outskirts of Laurinburg.  As I have mentioned before, Dawna likes books. Another of her loves consists of cats. If Dawna could have her way, we would have many cats. Any cat that is needing some love, Dawna will be their best friend. We can be walking down the street on a walk and cats come out of the dandiest places looking for her.  I think Dawna can talk cat in her own way. For me this is difficult, as cats and I have not always been friends. In fact they terrify me, and that is another story.

One day, Dawna noticed this little calico kitten in our carport. There had been this terrible thunderstorm and this wet little kitten was seeking a dry, safe place. This little thing had a slight limp to it, which immediately turned on Dawna’s instinct to tend to it. She went to get some food and milk for this poor little kitty.  Sure enough a few days of this went on and the little kitty had adopted Dawna. Dawna left her outside for a week or so, before she finally let her come in the house, one day when the kitty was cowering from another thunderstorm. We had other cats, Freddie and Ginny at the time and our dog Mopsy. Freddie and Ginny wanted nothing to do with this little feline, but Mospsy quickly adopted her. Before you know it we had another cat.

Dawna had referred to this pretty kitty, as just that: Pretty Kitty, I suspect Pretty Kitty didn’t get milk at home where she came from, and felt this was a better deal! Her leg was healing fine, and she had this one eye that looked a bit damaged too, but was also doing well. Pretty Kitty was growing fast and took over the roost quickly in the house. The other cats simply ignored her., or hissed as she walked by. She had this stride that said, “Don’t mess with me, I am one tough cat!”  And she was!

One day Dawna heard this meowing at the front door, she went to see what Pretty Kitty wanted, and there she was sitting on the front porch with a mouse! Dawna praised her, for what a great hunter she was, and then Pretty Kitty would pick up the mouse and head for the woods with her prize. Dawna was very impressed, as was I, for Pretty Kitty was a small little calico kitty, not six pounds. But we knew from the way she walked, she was all mountain lion too!

The next day, Dawna heard another calling from Pretty Kitty, this time she had a bird! Doing better, Dawna thought. She was quite the hunter.  But it gets better. Before long she had fetched a squirrel, then a rabbit and then a black snake! This was getting crazy!  She was killing off all the animals in the woods, and I hate snakes, and surely don’t want her bringing them home. The squirrel and rabbit were twice her size too! This was getting to be incredible!

The day came that I was most distressed! Dawna goes to the front door, ready to fend off any possible wild animal that Pretty Kitty has now captured, and there sat Pretty Kitty looking up at Dawna as proud as any kitty could be, with a biscuit! There on the front porch was bread, brought home by the great hunter. When Dawna told me about this, I looked at Pretty Kitty differently from then on. When you are married you often worry about someone grabbing up your wife and her, leaving you for someone that could provide better for her. But when it is your own kitty, that you trusted, I knew that I would always have to compete for Dawna, as I wasn’t the only bread winner for the family!

Pretty Kitty lived to be 12, moved from North Carolina to Oregon and had a litter of 4 kittens, which she ruled with an iron fist. We kept one of the kittens, named him Rufus.  Rufus is 20 pounds, compared to Pretty Kitties’ six. Rufus respected his mom, for he and I both knew who ruled the roost. Pretty Kitty the Great hunter is now hunting in kitten heaven, where I am sure she is the queen of the roost again!

Hunting with Women

Dawna, my wife, Mark my brother and I were driving our truck and camper around the flatlands of Chester Montana. We came up to this bunch of bush along the Marias River, and Mark and I decided we had to get rid of some beer, and give Dawna her first chance at walking through some of this bush. She had bought this 22 that year, and decided she would try shooting some sage hens with it on our hunting trip, not wanting to kill a poor helpless deer (as she said). so we stop the truck, Mark and I leaving our guns in the truck, and let Dawna go traipsing through a bushy area about 50 yards round.

Mark and I are standing at either side of the truck recycling some beer, when all of sudden I hear gun shots and Dawna screaming. Mark and I look at each other wondering what the heck is she doing? Shooting at a flock of birds? Then not 20 feet in front of us lurches about 10 deer running for all they are worth to the river right in front of us, then another 20 come busting out for the river right behind the first.  There are frigen deer all over the place, Mark and I are standing there trying to get our fly's zipped up, our mouths agape, thinking why did we leave our guns in the truck! Then here jumps our of the brush Dawna yelling at the deer and us that she shot a buck and shooting away! Mark and I leach back to get our rifles, by this time the deer are across this small river, Dawna standing at the shore still shooting! I ran over to where she was, and she pointed out a buck she wounded, and sure enough here was this buck having some real difficulty trying to get up the bank on the other side of the river!

Needless to say, I go after the deer, crossing the river and finish it off. That water was very cold being there was snow on the ground!

I will never forget her first day of hunting! After that I was convinced that if we had a bunch of women in any war, they would have been killers! Wild-women when you give them a gun! Ha!

The following year Dawna bought a 242, and is a dead shot on any deer!

Fishing in Style

One day on the way down to my favorite spot just off from under the bridge, I forgot my folding chairs. I figured I didn’t need them, so simply kept going. Once there I figured, I might as well fish from the Jeep. I had real nice high back bucket seats, a beer cooler for an arm rest, the front windshield folded down, and I had a cassette player with a Kris Kristofferson tape, my favorite tape.

It was a nice warm day, and fishing had never been better.  I had caught a nice cutthroat trout, that I had tied to my front bumper and dangling in the river. I sat there with my shirt off and my cowboy hat on enjoying the day when I saw a bicycle with some guy on it ride over, then road back over to the middle of the bridge and started taking pictures of me. I am thinking, I am in trouble now, must be the fish and game, and obviously fishing from a Jeep must be illegal. 

A few minutes later, this guy walked up to my Jeep, and introduced himself as Brian Kennedy from the local Hungry Horse Newspaper. He wanted to know if he could take some pictures of me and ask me some questions for the newspaper. He thought I looked like I was having a great day of fishing and really admired my style and music. I said sure. He asked a bunch of questions and took some more pictures of me and left.

I was thinking, I am having a great day! I mean a really great day! It just didn’t get any better than this. This was fishing in style! I had already managed to down a bunch of beers, and as the sun increased, so did my beer drinking. The worse thing that could happen was I would catch too many fish to enjoy the day.

It wasn’t another hour when this girl came walking up to me in the Jeep and told me she was from Kalispell’s newspaper The Daily Interlake, and asked me the same questions and took more pictures. I finished off the beer, took and filled my cooler with water and dumped half a dozen nice trout in it, and drove back across the bridge and home. I walked in the front door telling Dawna about the news reporters and what a great day I had.  Of course she is thinking first, you have had too much beer, second I shouldn’t have drove home and third I was crazy! I dumped the fish in the kitchen sink while I was telling her about my day. I started to get ready to clean these fish, when I looked in the sink seeing them flopping around, thinking to my self why should these poor fish suffer for my great day.  I walked into the bathroom, filled the bathtub full of water, captured the fish in the sink and put them in the tub. I took the fish and helped them swim around in the tub, until they were zipping around in circles. I tried to feed them some fish eggs, but they weren’t interested in eating at the time. I then drained the tub, recaptured the fish again, filled my cooler back with water, and put the fish in it too.  As I headed out the door, I told Dawna I would be back, she protested that I shouldn’t drive, but little that did. I took off in the Jeep again for the river, let the fish go back to their home, and drove back to my home.  The following week two articles in the local newspapers showed up of me fishing. I spent the rest of the summer fishing the same way, only the rest of the fish became many a meal. Folks started waving and honking at me while I fished.  Fishing in style, and comfort!

Lockins and Beaches

What do you do with 120 teenagers, looking for something to do? Why not have a lockin! Woah, you are really looking for some challenging times! And try it with just a hand full of parents at their first lock in, now that is a thought! If this doesn’t just sound like a lot of fun! Why would one do this!

Growing up in the church I remember coming of age, and those teen years were tough. As a boy I had one thing on my mind, and that was girls, girls, girls. As I later discovered, many girls had only one thing on their mind, and of course, that was boys, boys, boys! No surprise, with the hormones at wild within our bodies. Youth group for me was a good place to hang out with friends, and even meet some possible girlfriends. We had a small group, though and most of the kids I had known from early childhood. I don’t remember about doing much with the youth group back then. I do remember feeling like I could trust the people I was around, and talk about issues freely. It felt safe in that group.

As I aged in high school, I started to have more and more questions about God and all the versus I had memorized and stories I had heard and read, or acted in the yearly Christmas programs. One of the last events I remember with the youth group in California, was a trip to the coast for the day. I don’t remember the drive over but I am sure we drove our youth pastors, Sandy and John crazy. Once we arrived, right before we all took off for the beach, they let us know that we would get back together at lunch later that day, and to make sure we kept track of time. Right, a teenager keeping track of time! The only time a teenager keeps track of time, is when they are waiting on their parents! My feet hit the sand and off I went to explore the beach. Leaving these close friends to fend for themselves.

An hour later I was sitting on the beach, and two girls with long blonde hair walked by, and said "hi!", being a boy as I was, I smiled and said hi back. They were on vacation with their parents from Casper, Wyoming and I was from California. We ended up walking down the beach together, hanging out near some rocks and talking about life in general. We each promised to write each other when we returned home. They returned to their family, and I returned to my church family. My youth group was hanging out around the campfire having some devotion time. I sat down with the group, and soaked up some of the heat on that coolish afternoon. As I listened to my friends share about their lives, in relation to the bible scripture they had read together, I was struck how this was more than just a youth group. These were people I grew up with, didn’t just meet for two hours, but had spent the last years with them each Sunday. But I didn’t forget the address of the two girls, we wrote each other all through high school and up until we all married.

Ten years later, I remembered back to that day, and said yes, I would like to help get a youth group going in a small church in Montana. And that started a 13-year period of my life helping youth grow together and have fun doing it. There are many youth that grow up in church and even some that start church in high school, that connect with God, and stay involved their whole lives. There are many more that don’t quite connect, and leave the church forever, or like me for a period of years we leave, then to return later. While in youth group, I discovered, to keep youth active you needed two things, the Holy Spirit to talk to these kids and fun. If it wasn’t fun, they didn’t stick around.

This world is full of opportunities for our teens that entices them from the family and church. Today their lives are so busy it is hard to fit church and thus God, into their lives. The competition for their time is tough. My mission with these kids was always to first, have fun, compete for their time. Second, supply a safe and growing atmosphere, where they could be a family. And then, when they were ready, supply them with examples from Jesus’ life and God’s directions to show them that being a Christian was not a bad thing, but was an opportunity to experience life in a safe, growing atmosphere, that taught us what is right, and the way to Heaven. Force a bible down a teenager’s throat, doesn’t work. Give him an opportunity to see Christ alive in others that are just like him or her, and allow them to share, and they have the opportunity to see how safe sitting around a campfire can be. And why they need God more than anything, and the friends they have around them, or the ones they might meet through a simple smile on the beach.

After almost 25 years later, loosing each other through life, I found the two girls on the beach again, both happily married in Denver. We connected again, though the internet. My youth leaders from that day, we still stay in touch too. Sandy writes Christian poetry. I stay in touch with those youth that we enjoyed times with at lockins and on the beach watching stars streaking across the sky. And teenagers, well they have fun, and they grow to know God.

By the way, the picture above, that's Pastor Steve in the middle, he was my encouragement over the years. A youth entering full time church work. He asked me one day, while we were making a newsletter for our little youth group in Montana, is there something we can do more? Yes Steve, there is, and you found it.

Thank you for visiting our site. I have more stories if you liked these, let me know and I will add more. I have wrote my own autobiography, with similar stories from the "Life and Times of geo".

I want to thank and dedicate these stories to Mr. Williamson from Ukiahi for encouraging me to write.