Chasin Campin - Between Races

 Our last race was in Pryor Creek, Oklahoma ten days ago.  The next USMTS scheduled race will be this Saturday at Deer Creek Speedway (again) in Spring Valley MN.   The Friday race at Chateau Speedway was cancelled, apparently due to owner concerns that too many people would attend, causing potential "Covid distancing requirement" issues, and jeopardizing his regularly scheduled races.  Found out today that we are planning to run an IMCA race in Marshalltown, IA in place of the cancelled Friday event.

To fill the void this past week we arranged to meet daughter Emily and 5-year old grandson Porter near Bozeman Montana for a little (forest) camping.  (As opposed to race track camping.)  They drove the seven or so hours from Spokane, we drove about 24 hours total to get up to Bozeman, and we met up and camped one night in regular campsite at Langohr Campground above Bozeman.  We got the last available space, and the place was then "Full".  Moved the next day to a spot in the mountains about 30 miles south of Bozeman, 30 miles north of Yellowstone Natl. Park - called Spire Rock.  Campgrounds up that canyon were full so we proceeded to "disbursed" camping further up.  Were lucky again here, as we found a nearly perfect spot just a few miles in, right on Storm Castle Creek.

This location would equate roughly to La Plata Canyon, where your campsite is just 50 feet from the river, with the nearest "neighbor" being a couple hundred yards up or down the creek.

Maybe 20 cars go up or down the road each day, an equal number of ATV's.    A few more on weekend, of course.  Otherwise peaceful.

A lovely spot to spend the next 4 nights.  And the weather could not have cooperated more!

So Porter just loved the river.  It accepts rocks, and twigs, and pine cones, and chunks of wood that look like ocean-going vessels with smokestacks, and so forth.

              And more rocks and twigs and pine cones . . . . .    And rocks.

Porter is the most positive little guy.  Really.  At 5 years old.  He is alert, attentive, conversive, enthusiastic, and just a riot to be around.  And more energy than, well, more energy than the rest of the camp combined.

We learned early-on that the theme for this camp would be (his term):

"Nocturnal animals."

Every evening we were invited by Porter (required, actually) to participate in the "nocturnal animal competition" (again, HIS words) whereby we all headed into the woods single file as soon as darkness arrived, flashlights in hand, to seek out nocturnal animals.  The goal, established by our leader, was typically 5 or 10 animals.  No limitations, everything counted - bats, squirrels, birds, rodents, big game, etc.     In the dark.      If you can't grasp the difficulty, try this at home.  

Where are the deer and elk and black bears when you need them??   Where are the Bison?  Thank God for moths, anyway.  Now we're down to 9.  This is tougher than it sounds.  But Porter is not to be deterred, and is LOVING the whole adventure.

During the day, of course, we repeat the process in search of "Daytime Animals."  That gives us better ability to meet our goals.   Amen.

And then there's the fly-swatting competition.  For when you're sittin around camp.  You practice first, on inanimate objects.  Then move on to flies.

But there just weren't enough flies.  So Porter, who had seen a cow walk down the road the previous day, devises a plan.  "If we pull some grass and put it in our camp, the cow(s) will come thru and poop in our camp and that will draw flies."   So we pull grass.  And place it.     Didn't work.    No cows.

      It wasn't for lack of HOPING, however.  All you really need is one cow.

                   Poor guy.  And such a good plan.    Darn it.

                            BUT WAIT!!                GRANDPA!

             It Worked!!   They're coming from all directions.       Game On!

             Through it all, no complaints, no whining, no worries.  

                                            He IS a Happy Camper.  Hot Cocoa!!

                                                Mmmmm.

                   Okay.  Lots of kid pics.    I know.          So sue me.

            Had a great visit with Emily and Porter, and a grand time camping.

As we said our good-byes and departed Monday morning, it had just begun to rain.  Perfect.  Em and Porter back to Spokane,  D & L return to Buffalo, WY for re-provision, laundry, etc., and to get updated on the race schedule.

One final note:  As we sat by this beautiful little stream in this bucolic setting, it was impossible not to recall the times spent in similar surroundings on the Taylor River in Colorado, especially those with Bobby and Cindy at the cabin, and of course the occasional "Poker on the River" games there.  How curious and fitting that, as we sat in camp eating ice cream cones I realize that it is Tillamook ice cream.

      Not just Tillamook, but Tillamook Mountain Huckleberry Ice Cream.

It was one of Bobby's favorite treats.   I'll never forget the phone call in which he insisted that we HAD TO try this particular flavor.    He was right, of course.

                     As he was about most things in this world.

                    A toast to the Memory of Bobby Wright.

       You will always be missed, and always remembered.   Cheers!

  On the road with D & L.