Author: Matt Oliver

My kids call activities that I plan “dad-ventures.” My dad-ventures have had mixed results. Some are unexpected gems and others are horrible failures. So, when I suggested that we stop in the Hell Creek formation to hunt for fossils, they were skeptical.  Our base camp was Makoshika State Park, Montana. We missed pronounced it the entire time we were there. We called is mako-sheeka instead of mu-co-shi-ka which is its Native American name. Later visitors called it hell with all of the fires put out. We arrived at the campground a day earlier than expected and we thought we would have to pay to adjust our reservation. Fortunately, we met campground hosts Lori and Oscar who were very kind and helpful. They suggested that we look for a campsite in Pine Creek Campground. The road sign on the way to Pine Creek campground said “no trailers”. When I asked Oscar about that, he said that our pop-up didn’t count as a “real” trailer. I guess in some ways this is true, we had no problem pulling our camper up the 15% grade. The Pine Creek campground sits on a small spur of public land overlooking the badlands of Montana. The view from our site was amazing and is probably one of the best sites we’ve ever had. We ate spaghetti together as the sunset turning a distant thunderstorm into pinkish orange sky fire.

One of my favorite pieces of camping gear is the solar shower. If you are like me, and like to take showers, you’re going to want to buy one of these. As the sun set, our family put on swimsuits and took turns washing down with sun-heated water on the tailgate of the truck. So refreshing! As night descended, we were cozy in the trailer, getting ready for a big adventure the following day. Just before going to bed I was outside adjusting the trailer when I heard a snake rattle. Not more than two feet away was a large prairie rattlesnake under one side of our camper. The ranger at Theodore Roosevelt National Park said that prairie rattlers like to come out on cool nights to find sources of heat. For some reason, this snake chose the rocks under our trailer. From a safe distance, the kids shined their flashlights on the snake hoping the snake would find another place to go. After about 15 minutes, it was clear that the snake wasn’t going anywhere and wanted to stay under our camper. I did not think it was safe to have a rattlesnake under our camper for the night, so I dispatched it in the most humane way I could. But I don’t think we will soon forget that encounter.

The next morning, I saw a very large buck mule deer at sunrise.  I could tell by the lack of chill in the air, that it was going to be a hot day.  I was worried that this dad-venture was going to be a bust as the children melted under the sweltering Montana sun. We met our guides, Shana and Shane at Baisch’s Dinosaur Digs in Glendive. Their family has been hunting fossils on their private ranch land since the 1950’s. They took us out on a pockmarked ranch road full of gullies and ditches. I was happy we had an off-road pick-up! The dig site was beautiful. Gray, black and orange hillsides characterized by twisting gullies looked as if they were being melted in slow motion by water. By this time the heat of the day was setting in and we had not even begun. We had no idea what to expect, but after a short hike our guides showed us just how much fossilized bone was laying on the hillsides. We found large chunks of dinosaur bone, turtle shells, petrified wood and even petrified pinecones scattered about. The kids found one large outcropping of bone which we spent about 45 minutes excavating with screwdrivers and paintbrushes. The excitement of the dinosaur fossils cancelled out the heat of the day as the kids scampered from gully to gully, finding the remains of an ancient ecosystem. We ended the day by hiking to a recent triceratops excavation. The number and the size of the bones was impressive. We got to ask some real paleontologists about their work. Samantha later confessed that she thought this dad-venture was going to fall flat. But the kids left energized by their finds and the stark beauty of the Montana badlands. This dad-venture did not disappoint.

Sam here. Let me begin by saying that our expectations for Niagara Falls were low, so low in fact, that two summers ago we cut it out of our trip and decided to go home instead. You see, we viewed it as a tourist trap, a kitsch stop, not something worth seeing. We envisioned ourselves walking through stores crammed with souvenirs and sidewalks bustling with tourists and hawkers, all of who scrambled over piles of litter toward the legendary waterfall. 

 It doesn’t sound like an ideal place to camp. Either that, or we are nature snobs. I’ll let you decide.  

            Here is what actually happened:

            We rolled into the Niagara Falls KOA at approximately 5:19 PM. We were bedraggled, sleepy, and famished, yet still enthusiastic after nine hours of travel. After setting up and eating dinner, Eli and I went to the complimentary KOA trampoline, where we met other campground children. Why is this relevant? It is my opinion the friendship between nations does not begin on the political stage, or even in a diplomat’s office. It begins at a campground playground, where kids from all over the world, who may not even speak the same language, play tag together and push each other on the swings.

            Later that evening, we drove down to the falls to see them lit up in a splendid array of colors and to see the nightly fireworks show. Seeing Niagara Falls was a magical experience, especially for Eli. He had no idea that we were going to see the waterfall, not just some random one, although that does sound like us. Chuckling to ourselves that he didn’t know what Niagara Falls were, we decided to keep it a surprise for him. (Actually, this entire trip is a surprise for him, since he has no idea where we are going.) As for the falls, words fail to describe it, except to say that the thick torrents of white frothing water that are Niagara Falls, make every other waterfall pale in comparison. 

               Even though we had already seen the falls, we hung around the next morning since we had one last activity to cross off our list before we packed up: a boat tour. Like everything else about Niagara, our expectations were low, and we were checking our watches as we took the Hornblower Cruises Funicular to our boat the Niagara Thunder. Our only inkling that this would be memorable were the red plastic rain ponchos the crew handed to us. 

            And memorable it was.

            Getting up close to Niagara Falls was like nothing we had never experienced before. In fact, this stop on our trip did nothing but exceed our expectations. As we sailed closer to the mighty waterfall, its churning mist glided toward us and gave us the showers we needed. Eli had decided not to wear the rain poncho and in no time at all, he was drenched to the bone. Even Dad’s special quick-dry pants and rain slicker did not stop the droplets from penetrating into his skin. We were wet, squished by the crowd, and deliriously happy. We couldn’t stop laughing, so much so that we probably sounded hysterical. It was just that, being surrounded by the churning silver and blue water and mist of the ever-flowing waterfall, filled us to the brim with a fizzy, glittery feeling of joy and wonder, swirling within us as the water moved within Niagara Falls. Dad says that that feeling is called being high on nature. I say that it’s just truly feeling alive. 

Most of the destinations we picked for this trip were ones that Korin and I had dreamed of visiting. I lobbied to visit the Bighorn River in eastern Montana because of a great trout fishing experience I had with my brother-in-law two years ago. The Bighorn River, just below the Yellowtail Dam in the Crow Reservation is one of the great trophy trout rivers in the lower 48. I wanted to recreate the experience I had for Eli, who is just getting into fishing. Unfortunately for us, the fishing was a bit slow by Bighorn standards. By any other standard though, we did great. Eli landed several trout, two of which were (Rainbow and Brown) in the 20 inch range (didn’t get pics of these monsters of those because we were wading the river). At one point, Eli was casting his classic rooster tail spinner into a nice pool and called me over because he thought he was stuck on a rock. I told him to whip the rod a few times and it should come loose. No dice. So, I walked over, took the rod and his “rock” started swimming away. Eli took over again, and walked down the bank to land (and release) a large whiplashed brown trout!

To escape the heat of afternoon, we took a ride up to the Yellowtail Dam Visitor Center which is run by the National Park Service. Wow, what a step back in time! It was clean and informative, but it hadn’t been updated since the dam was built in 1968. The vintage dam construction movie was as interesting because it shown a huge spotlight on what was important and valued in the 60’s. Societal “progress” was measured by the volume of concrete that could be placed in a single day by cigar smoking men with “strong hands cunning minds” to impound the wild Bighorn river to create a huge lake in Bighorn Canyon. How times have changed in just one generation. Today, the electricity and water generated by the Yellowtail Dam is sold by the Crow Nation. The dam is also largely responsible for the great trout fishery downstream. It is the cool tailwaters released from the dam that allow these trout to thrive in the heat of summer.

While at the visitor center, we overheard a local mention that Bighorn Lake was Montana’s best kept secret. Curious, we took the 10 mile drive to Ok-A-Beh marina, where, the landscape changed from gently sloping grassy hills to red-rock canyon cliffs up to 1000 feet high. It was a splendid surprise. Most of the canyon can only be seen from the lake, so we rented a pontoon boat. We rounded the marina, and were stunned by contrast of deep green ponderosa pines clinging to red rock, while our boat glided effortlessly along the glassy surface of Bighorn Lake. Because it is on the Crow reservation, there are no structures on the lake. It is a pristine landscape. We explored the Black Canyon portion of the lake by boat, which was much easier than exploring the Black Canyon of the Gunnison by foot! And, with a stroke of luck, the smallmouth bass were biting. We had fun landing these little fighters with the canyon walls towering above our boat. We agreed if we had to do the visit again, we would have devoted at least another day to exploring the Bighorn Canyon. We look forward to coming back!