"Summits On The Air" with W7MRC, Amateur Radio, Rhodesian Ridgebacks, Field Craft, Living in Montana, Old 4 Wheel Drivers, Mountain Bikes, Hiking and "Just Getting There"
Decades ago, an entrepreneur challenged his audience with a concept of critical importance: “Every once in a vhile, it is important to ask ourselves vhy are we in business?” He had a waaay cool Austrian accent, and his point was valid: every once in a while, we should examine our fundamentals.
So why, indeed, listen to shortwave radio?
For me, the short answer is: because there are treasures out there on the shortwave spectrum, that’s why. Further, with a relatively inexpensive shortwave receiver (even better if you have a receiver with single-sideband – SSB – capability), you hear them too. You can discover things that you are unlikely to find anywhere else, and not only are they fun to hear, they are also fun to find.
So let me present for your approval a shortwave journey that I took on October 24, 2021.
1115Z – It all starts when I am flipping through my old shortwave reference materials, and a copy of a page from Popular Communications magazine, April, 1986, catches my eye: “Handy Ute Finder by Hubble Gardiner, KNE0JX.” Utes are utility stations (as opposed to hams or international broadcasters), like ships at sea, planes in the air, and fixed commercial and military stations, and the like. The article presented places to look in the HF radio spectrum between 4000 kHz and 26960 kHz, for utility stations transmitting in SSB, CW, and RTTY/ARQ modes. Is this chart still valid? I don’t know, but since I enjoy hearing people doing their jobs on the air, why not start tuning from 4000 kHz in upper sideband and see what I can hear? Freeing the Tecsun PL-880 from its case, I extend the antenna, press the power button, punch in 4000 kHz, and start turning the dial. And while my initial impulse was to discover some “utes,” I am open to whatever comes through the headphones.
1128Z, 4426 kHz USB – a ute, super loud and clear, a weather forecast from the US Coast Guard Communications Command, including a forecast of tropical weather from the National Hurricane Center. If I were a mariner, I would be pleased to hear this forecast.
Duties call, and my cruise of the bands is interrupted, to be continued later in the day . . .
2130Z, 7490 kHz AM, — highly unusual music that sounds like a mash-up between 1930s movie music and oompah bands. It’s odd but pleasant and certainly not anything you are going to hear on the “regular” broadcast stations. Turns out it is a program called Marion’s Attic on WBCQ from Monticello, Maine. Two females, Marion (with a high squeaky voice) and Christine, play recordings from yesteryear (including wax cylinders, I think). Evidently, this program has been on the air for 22 years, and it made me smile.
2150Z, 8950 kHz USB, — a ute, European weather conditions for aviators from Shannon VOLMET, Ireland, very difficult to hear on the PL880’s whip antenna, but fully copyable on my Satellit 800 with wire antenna. How cool to hear weather from all the way across the pond!
2206Z, 9350 kHz AM, (back on the PL880) — USA Radio News on WWCR, then Owen Shroyer and a Dr. Bartlett discussing the problem of a hospital in Texas apparently putting plastic bags on the heads of covid patients. Unusual, I think, but I had heard enough about the virus of late and continue to rotate the tuning knob.
2215Z, 9395 kHz AM, — My ears are tickled by cool jazz, a very together group, laying it down with style. “This is cool jazz, jazz from the left coast,” the announcer intones as he cues up another group. It’s WRMI, transmitting from Okeechobee. Hearing it, I flashed back to “The Hawthorn Den, Jazz after Midnight” Saturday nights, listening under the covers when I was a kid.
2226Z, 9830 kHz, Voice of Turkey, in English — A professor presents an analysis of the United Nations, which he thinks needs to be reformed due to the shifting of the axes of power. This is followed by exotic music with nice female singer.
2239Z, 9955 kHz,WRMI, — Glen Hauser hosts The World of Radio, detailing the status of various shortwave stations around the world. Fascinating stuff and well worth the time.
2257Z, 10051 kHz USB, — a ute, weather for aviators again, but this time from Gander, Newfoundland. Makes me glad to be in a nice warm house.
So that’s what a little over an hour of turning the knob yielded, and that’s why to listen to shortwave radio: because you never know what you may encounter. Who knows what you might discover with a shortwave radio and a little wandering around?
Remember what Gandalf said: “Not all who wander are lost.”
With the morning sun at his back on August 12,1805, Meriwether Lewis followed a well-worn Indian trail from southwest Montana’s Horse Prairie Valley up Trail Creek, gradually topping out on a 7,373-foot pass.
“… the road was still plain, I therefore did not dispair of shortly finding a passage over the mountains and tasting the waters of the Great Columbia this evening. At the distance of four miles further the road took us to the most distant fountain of the water of the mighty Missouri in surch of which we have spent so many toilsome days and wristless nights.”
When he walked through today’s Lemhi Pass, Lewis became the first known white man to cross the Continental Divide. He was however, mistaken about reaching the most distant waters of the Missouri. That distinction belongs to the earliest trickles of Hellroaring Creek flowing out of the eastern end of the Centennial Mountains and the Divide into the Red Rock River, a good distance to the east.
Lemhi Pass | Rick and Susie Graetz
This Continental Divide, that gives Montana distinct water sheds, is part of a greater hemispheric divide stretching from the Brooks Range of northern Alaska south through the Andes to almost the farthest tip of South America. And, the USA Continental Divide National Scenic Trail allows folks to trek the 3,100 miles from Canada to Mexico following the actual divide as closely as possible. Bestowing order to every drop of moisture that falls on it, when the spring’s sun turns the Divide’s blanket of snow into rivulets of water, the Pacific Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico can count on more volume.
Snow melt and rain falling on the west side of Montana’s Divide powers the many creeks and rivers leading to the Clark Fork and the fast-moving Snake rivers, each flowing to meet the Columbia that in turn discharges its flow into Pacific Ocean. Sky born liquid landing on the lee or sunrise side of the continental Divide eventually makes its way to the Missouri River and from there to the Mississippi and on to the Gulf of Mexico.
Pioneers pointing their wagon trains westward to the Oregon Country were unfamiliar with the land and viewed the imposing mountain crests as an immense obstacle. The many Indian Nations inhabiting or migrating through what would become western Montana, knew the easiest crossings well and had used them for centuries as a passageway to the bison hunting grounds of the northern Great Plains.
Montana’s Divide respects no geologic structural dictate, but rather snakes at random through the high terrain of the state’s Northern Rocky Mountains. With a spectacular start in the remote western reaches of Glacier National Park, at the 49th parallel of latitude where Alberta, British Columbia and Montana join, the northern most point of Montana’s Divide begins its run to the south at an elevation of 7,460 feet. It leaves our great state about three miles into Yellowstone National Park at 8,320 feet where Montana, Idaho and Wyoming join in a nondescript, flat, difficult to find timbered landscape.
Elevations along Montana’s Divide range from a low of 5,280 feet at Marias Pass near Glacier Park to 11,141 feet at the most southerly situated Eighteenmile Peak.
Once embroiled in politics, the Continental Divide played an important part in Montana’s early history. The Idaho Territory, established in 1863, included all of what is now Montana. When Ohio congressman Sidney Edgerton was named Chief Justice of the Idaho Territory and reported to his post, he discovered that his new assignment was to cover only the eastern portion of the new territory.
Initially, Congress determined this mountain crest line was to serve as the border between Montana and Idaho.
A movement was growing in Edgerton’s domain to create a new territory (Montana). Initially, the Idaho Territorial Legislature asked Congress to establish the Continental Divide as a boundary. This would mean that half of Glacier Park, Flathead Lake, Missoula and the Bitterroot Valley would today be part of Idaho. Edgerton, with his powerful political connections, as well as being closely acquainted with President Lincoln, asked to have the boundary move west to follow the Bitterroot Divide instead. His request was granted and in July 1864 he became Montana’s first Territorial Governor headquartered in the new territorial capital of Bannack.
Second only to the Chinese Wall in Bob Marshall Country notoriety is Scapegoat Mountain, a three-mile long reef of limestone honeycombed with caves. The Great Divide defines its east edge. South of Scapegoat near Caribou Peak, the Divide leaves the wilderness for an area often called the Lincoln Back Country. Now its journey encounters a more roaded landscape and lowers sufficiently to allow a pass to go through.
Scapegoat Mountain in winter | Rick and Susie Graetz
In 1806, following a trail along the Blackfoot River the Indians called “the river of the road to the buffalo,” Captain Meriwether Lewis crossed the Continental Divide back to the prairie here at the now named Lewis and Clark Pass. Today this historic place is protected and only foot or horse travel is permittedSouth of Lewis and Clark Pass, the Great Divide meets Rogers Pass and Highway 200, the first road crossing the barrier since Marias Pass 145 miles to the north.
Only a short way from Roger’s Pass, Flesher and Stemple passes provide recreational access to the land of the Divide. In winter, cross-country skiers from Helena and Great Falls frequent the area. From Stemple Pass, the Divide follows, in some places, a road passing Granite Butte and just east of Nevada Mountain.
Surrounded by logging, the Nevada Mountain Roadless Area, an island of dense stands of lodgepole pine providing high quality elk habitat, straddles the Continental Divide. Serving as sentinels for the area, Nevada Mountain and the somewhat higher Black Mountain are both over 8,000 feet. From their tops some of southwest Montana’s big intermountain valleys, including the Helena Valley are visible.
Mid-way into its southward journey and just beyond Nevada Mountain, the Continental Divide traverses above a heavily mined district and the historic town of Marysville one of the state’s leading producers of gold. The famous Drumlummon Mine, established here by Thomas Cruse, had an output of almost $50 million of the precious yellow metal. A lasting legacy from Cruse is the beautiful Helena Cathedral built as a tribute, and thank you for answered prayers.
Today, hiking, mountain biking and snow sports at the Great Divide Ski Area …formerly Mount Belmont, have replaced the search for minerals in the Marysville-Bald Butte region.
As the Divide nears Helena, three passes are attained. One, which was prominent in Helena’s much younger days, is Mullen Pass named for Lt. John Mullen, who in the early 1860s was in charge of building the military road between Fort Benton and Walla Walla, Washington. At the 1911 Montana State Fair, a daring stunt pilot named Cromwell Dixon took off from the Helena fairgrounds and made the first flight across the Continental Divide landing in the vicinity of Mullen Pass near the then town of Blossberg. Upon returning to the wild cheers of a large crowd, the 19-year-old aviator collected a $10,000 purse.
Red Mountain and the Copper Creek Headwall north of Lincoln | Rick and Susie Graetz
Next in line is Priest Pass. This once popular wagon road lost favor when in 1870, when a man named Dundhy built a toll road close by. Due to his extensive use of “log corduroying” over the muddy spots, making travel easier for horse drawn stagecoaches, it soon became the main route to and from Helena. Alexander MacDonald was hired to manage the tollgate and the pass. Today, four-lane Highway 12 cuts across the top of MacDonald Pass. A well-used public cross-country ski trail system is maintained on the east side of the Pass in the vicinity of Frontier Town.
Long before whites came to Montana, MacDonald, Mullen and Priest passes served as important Indian routes to their prairie hunting grounds in the east. Between MacDonald Pass and Butte, this hydrological line goes through a mix-match of mining claims, clear-cuts, roadless backcountry and mine remnants. The former mining town of Rimini, complete with shafts and claims, is nestled below the Divide’s east side not too distant from Helena.
Though it has been witness to a great deal of Montana’s formative years, the range of the peaks between the Capital and Mining cities is yet unnamed. Geologically, this stretch of topography is known as the Boulder Batholith. Simply put, a large igneous bubble was created when magma rose, spreading up and out across the earth surface before hardening; thus, providing for many of the mineral deposits in the vicinity.
The Electric Peak/Blackfoot Meadows Wilderness Study Area, one of the untamed tracts enroute, contains 13 miles of the Continental Divide and is a favorite of hikers and horseback riders. Still heading south, the Great Divide comes across another major highway when it meets Interstate 15 aiming through Elk Park. An almost level, elevated valley extends to the east of the gap; on the west side, the road dives into Butte where enormous pits were dug to extract copper. The mining of this useful metal fueled the economy of the town and fattened the bank accounts of the famous Copper Kings.
From Elk Park, the Divide quickly gains elevation as it skirts up through granite rocks and past more old mine sites to form an impressive pedestal for the luminescent Our Lady of the Rockies statue overlooking Butte.
Two more thoroughfares are traversed as the Divide meets Homestake and Pipestone passes immediately south of Butte. Interstate 90 goes through Homestake, while Montana Highway 2 winds up and down Pipestone. Both passes are on the fringe of a grouping of mountains called the Highlands. With peaks over 10,000 feet, another striking backdrop for Butte is provided compliments of the Continental Divide.
As the Divide leaves the Highlands behind, it makes a sharp U-turn and charges north back towards Butte. Here, close to Deer Lodge Pass and Interstate 15, the Boulder Batholith exhibits its splendor in the Humbug Spires. Thousands of years of weathering has exposed the central granite core that gives the upwards of 600 feet high towers of rocks such a unique look. Amongst this rugged beauty, the Continental Divide turns and begins a westward course.
After a twisting passage through the Humbug Spires, the Continental Divide eases down in a westerly direction to the wide berth of Deerlodge Pass and Interstate 15 between Butte and Dillon, before beginning its upward climb to the Fleecer Mountain neighborhood. Here it blends with the high ranging country south of Anaconda that also exhibits substantial signs of mining and exploration. A paved back road from Anaconda to the Big Hole River incises across this segment of the Divide.
Backed up on the south edge of the Divide is the Mount Haggin Wildlife Management Area. A short distance to the west of the wildlife quarter, the rugged terrain of the Anaconda-Pintler Wilderness, with many of its peaks soaring to more than 10,000 feet, is next to host the Great Divide.
Not since leaving the Bob Marshall, has the Divide been in such esteemed wilderness. The Anaconda-Pintlers are part of an undeveloped wildland complex totaling 368,000 acres. For 50 miles the Continental watershed now angles in a southwesterly direction through towering glaciated terrain. Like the Bob, this is home to a large population of predator/prey critters. It is in this wild and distinguished setting that two of Montana’s legendary trout streams, Rock Creek and the Big Hole River gather some of their waters.
Plenty of trails crisscross the Divide In this rugged landscape, many leading to high lakes, which characterize the territory. Some of the better known such as Cutaway and Pintler passes are excellent choices for adventure.
Often throughout Montana, the Continental Divide Trail approximates the actual Divide. Not so in the Anaconda Range, here the mountainous topography is far too harsh making it necessary for trekkers to walk well below the Divide. Some trails, such as the Highline path out of Maloney Basin, have a semblance of following the line but not for long.
When the Continental Divide left the Butte area, it wandered in a somewhat east/west direction. Bidding adieu to the A-P wilderness area, it meets the Bitterroot Range Divide, turns on its heel and begins to march true south once again, passing through a region representing both triumph and sadness in the annals of Montana and Idaho history. The Divide now becomes part of the Montana-Idaho border all the way to Yellowstone National Park. Technically, the entire range of mountains forming the Montana-Idaho state line is called the Bitterroot; but there are sub-ranges and it is in this area that the Continental Divide and the Beaverhead Mountains coexist.
William Clark crossed the mountains in this proximity as he left the Bitterroot in July 1806 on his way back to a cache made the previous summer. And on the Corps of Discovery’s initial journey to the West Coast, they also tread the forest between Lost Trail and Chief Joseph passes after following the North Fork of the Salmon as far as they could.
Crossing the Divide, Gibbons Pass leads from the Bitterroot Valley via Prairie and Trail creeks to the Big Hole Valley and Lost Trail Pass, just west of the actual Divide, connects the Big Hole Valley to Idaho’s Salmon River country.
Chief Joseph Pass, named for the great Nez Perce chieftain, allows paved road passage across the Divide from the Bitterroot to the Big Hole. Somewhere in this vicinity, Chief Joseph in an effort to bring his people to a safe sanctuary in Canada, led his tribe across the high country to an encampment now called the Big Hole Battlefield. In August 1877, Col. John Gibbon’s U.S. forces attacked these peaceful people, killing many women and children. Those who did escape the slaughter eventually surrendered only 20 miles from Canada.
eighteen mile peak in the beaverhead mountains near lima, montana
Upon meeting the Bitterroot Mountains at Chief Joseph Pass, the Continental Divide abruptly changes its mind directionally and hooking an abrupt left, it saunters south following the Montana/Idaho border. Though still part of the Bitterroot Range, these summits take on the name Beaverhead Mountains and to some folks, the West Big Hole Mountains since they edge the Big Hole Valley. Less rugged than those to the north, the peaks here are loftier, many are over 10,000 feet, and more massive. Monument Peak is one of the highest at 10,343 feet, but the best known and most visible of all the summits is 10,624-foot Homers Young which rises just a bit to the west of the actual Divide.
Part of the proposed West Big Hole Wilderness, footpaths in this untrammeled country follow distinct glacial U-shaped canyons and lead to more than 30 alpine jewel-like lakes. Attaining the Divide requires only good conditioning.
Some of the lower peaks south of the Big Hole watershed allow a few roads into the Beaverhead Mountains and to touch the Continental Divide. A dirt track out of the Horse Prairie Valley leads to Lemhi Pass, the route Lewis and Clark used on their journey to the Pacific, and crosses the Divide before taking a sharp drop off to Idaho on the west side. Lemhi’s open grassland provides a fine view of the Divide both to the north and the south. The name comes from a character in the book of Mormon named Limhi.
After the Lemhi passage, the mountaintops soar upward again culminating at the impressive 11,141-foot Eighteenmile Peak, the highest Continental Divide pinnacle between Banff National Park in Canada and the Wind River Range of Wyoming.
The Italian Peaks are the next to spurt up. Distinguished by a shear 2,000-foot high wall on its north side, Italian Peak at 10,998 feet is noted as being the southernmost point in Montana. Surrounded on three sides by Idaho, it is much like a peninsula of land. Though roadless, several trails provide access into the proposed Italian Peak Wilderness. These incredible mountains look down on some of the State’s least populated space, Big Sheep and Nicholia Basin. Surprisingly, this dry appearing area receives a heavy snow load in the winter.
In the mid 1800s, pioneers and gold seekers crossed the rough mountains leading into this sagebrush terrain on their way to the gold fields further north. Established in 1862, Bannack Pass, a route that still exists today, was the passage for the Bannack Freight Road coming from Corrine Utah. On the east edge of the Basin, and just beyond Four Eyes Canyon, the Lima Peaks-Garfield Roadless Area – Red Conglomerate Peak Complex completes the Beaverhead Mountains. Most of these Divide summits exceed 10,000 feet and then scale down to 6,870 feet at Monida Pass.
aspen in fall color below the red conglomerate peaks of beaverhead range near monida, montana
Interstate Highway 15 whips by the almost ghost town of Monida near the top of the pass. At one time, this was a stage stop for coaches between Salt Lake City and Montana’s gold camps. Barren wind-swept foothills east of Monida lead the way up once again to grand heights. The Divide now rides the 9,000 feet and higher Centennial Mountains for much of the final stretch of the Montana/Idaho border.
Below the north face of the Centennials, Red Rocks Lake National Wildlife Refuge, breeding ground of the Trumpeter Swan, is the centerpiece of a lonesome but heartbreakingly beautiful valley that some of Montana’s largest and oldest ranches call home.
Just to the west of 10,196-foot Mount Jefferson here in the Centennials, Hell Roaring Creek represents the Missouri Rivers most distant source; and nearby Red Rock Pass terminates the rise of the Centennials portion of the Divide.
From Red Rock Pass, the Divide points north for a short distance then ambles down to Henrys Lake and meets Raynolds Pass and Highway 87 at the state line. From here, it turns southeast while scrambling into mountains identified as both the Henrys Lake Mountains and the Lionhead Range. These writers, and other geographers, considers them to be the Lionhead Range and a southern extension of the Madison Range. From the town of West Yellowstone, the 10,000-foot peaks of these imposing mountains can be accessed for motorized as well as non-motorized recreation.
Scaling down as Highway 20 heading from West Yellowstone to Henrys Lake crosses it at Targhee Pass, the mountain range ends abruptly on its southern perimeter. Roughly 30 miles from the pass, still following the Montana/Idaho border, the Divide smacks into Wyoming. Here, just inside Yellowstone National Park, Montana gives up the Continental Divide. After a spectacular debut in Glacier National Park, the indomitable ridge bows out in a rather indistinct and obscure setting lacking any resemblance of the Great Divide that has made its southerly tour through Montana.
We can now add another category, based on the latest iteration of his budget plan.
According to the Tax Foundation, the United States would have the develop world’s most punitive personal income tax.
Worse than France and worse than Greece. How embarrassing.
In their report, Alex Durante and William McBride explain how the new plan will raise tax rates in a convoluted fashion.
High-income taxpayers would face a surcharge on modified adjusted gross income (MAGI), defined as adjusted gross income less investment interest expense. The surcharge would equal 5 percent on MAGI in excess of $10 million plus 3 percent on MAGI above $25 million, for a total surcharge of 8 percent. The plan would also redefine the tax base to which the 3.8 percent net investment income tax (NIIT) applies to include the “active” part of pass-through income—all taxable income above $400,000 (single filer) or $500,000 (joint filer) would be subject to tax of 3.8 percent due to the combination of NIIT and Medicare taxes. Under current law, the top marginal tax rate on ordinary income is scheduled to increase from 37 percent to 39.6 percent starting in 2026. Overall, the top marginal tax rate on personal income at the federal level would rise to 51.4 percent. In addition to the top federal rate, individuals face taxes on personal income in most U.S. states. Considering the average top marginal state-local tax rate of 6.0 percent, the combined top tax rate on personal income would be 57.4 percent—higher than currently levied in any developed country.
Needless to say, this will make the tax code more complex.
Lawyers and accountants will win and the economy will lose.
I’m not sure why Biden and his big-spender allies have picked a complicated way to increase tax rates, but that doesn’t change that fact that people will have less incentive to engage in productive behavior.
And they’ll definitely choose to earn less if tax rates increase, particularly since well-to-do taxpayers have considerable control over the timing, level, and composition of their income.
Do you marvel, as I do, at this malignant hive organism — arguably worse than the Covid-19 chimera virus — that calls itself “Joe Biden”? The personage of that name is a mere effigy, of course, like one of those grotesque mummies hoisted above the mob in a religious procession from some primitive cannibal kingdom. It’s the mob itself that actually matters, though, the twerking parade of Woke-Progressive Democrats, because it is bent absolutely on rooting out, punishing, and torturing its perceived enemies, which in this case are about half the people in the country. That’s really all it seeks to do. It has never been about anything else, because, get this: the Woke mob is insane.
But now this other half of the country has raised a war cry, “Let’s go Brandon,” in objection. In case anyone does not know what the phrase means, peruse the actual lyrics from one of four rap chants topping the Apple music charts right now: this ditty by entertainer Loza Alexander:
Let’s go, Brandon (fuck Joe Biden) (Let’s go, Brandon, fuck Joe Biden) you know what they sayin’, hoe Let’s go, Brandon (fuck Joe Biden) (Let’s go, Brandon, fuck Joe Biden) you know what they sayin’, hoe
Is that too subtle for anyone? Do you catch the drift? (Know what they sayin’?) The sentiment is timelier and apparently more popular than “I Want to Hold Your Hand” was in 1963. America has had enough of the Woke religious cult and its cavalcade of depravities. America is about to bum-rush the darn thing, seize the ghastly mummy from its skull-bedecked palanquin, and knock the living sawdust out of it.
Doings in the Loudoun County, VA, school board lately became the rectified essence of the wild, irresponsible, Woke derangement overtaking the land. The board authorized a sex education booklet that instructed teenage boys how to perform oral sex on each other — with explicit illustrations of one boy on his knees servicing another boy standing — while the board backed the sowing of maximum gender confusion among high schoolers who, under the best conditions, have a tough time adjusting to the hormonal storms of adolescence… all in the name of promoting a Woke brownie-point-collecting exercise called “Pride Week.”
And guess what? The parents of Loudoun County began to object to this… meshugas. And then the school board proceeded to squash and evade their objections, and even enlisted that degenerate troll Attorney General Merrick Garland to intimidate objecting parents with the FBI and federal writs against “domestic terrorism.” For his trouble, Mr. Garland was unmasked as a prevaricating tool in a US Senate hearing this week, nicely captured by the TV cameras so the citizenry could see him in weaselly operation.
It also came out that twice this fall a teenage boy wearing a skirt — ostensibly gender-confused in exactly the way promoted by the school board — committed two rapes of teenage girls in the girls’ bathrooms of two Loudoun County schools, to which he was granted access as someone pretending to bethink himself a girl — though it turned out he knew quite well how to deploy his male generative organ. The crimes were reported to the Loudoun County Sheriff’s Office and shared with the County School Superintendent, who covered it up… not a smooth move, as things turned out, because now the country can see exactly how criminally dishonest the Wokesters are.
And as all this rolled out, Woke-Progressive Democratic candidate for Governor of Virginia, Terry McAuliffe, made the supernaturally doltish utterance that “parents shouldn’t tell schools what to teach.” His campaign even put out roadside signs under his name repeating the statement-of-principle, in case anyone missed it. The result: McAuliffe dropped about eight points almost overnight in the polls. The voters are about to pop him out of the political universe like a watermelon seed between their fingers.
Meanwhile, the mummy known as “Joe Biden” has ventured abroad, first to Rome to be feted, his handlers thought, by the Pope. But his excellency Pope Francis ordered the TV cameras turned off, apparently unwilling to be seen consorting with the inanimate, disintegrating graven image of a US president — anymore than he would want to be caught conversing with a statue of the Medici Pope Leo X in his Vatican garden.
Also meanwhile, the stage managers back at the White House, Chief of Staff Ron Klain and Susan Rice, shadowy Director of the Domestic Policy Council, floated an initiative to give half-a-million dollars to each family member of children and parents who had gotten separated while attempting to enter the US illegally. That ought to warm the hearts of US citizens thrown out of their jobs and their livelihoods for demurring to take a vaccine that doesn’t work and which causes havoc in the organs, blood vessels, and immune systems of many who have taken it — against a disease the engineering of which was paid for by their own tax dollars.
Now, cue the Mother of all Migrant Caravans marching north to the wide-open US / Mexican border — because “Joe Biden” wants it that way — just what millions of broke, thrown-out-of-work, soon to freeze and starve US citizens will be treated to watch on their flat-screens before the cable service is switched off for non-payment. “Joe Biden” just wants to rub their faces in it, or rather the folks behind him pulling his strings want to do that. Maybe the time has come to cut “Joe Biden’s” strings. And just maybe it’s time to put an end to the Woke march through our history.
This past weekend (October 15-17, 2021) I was off-grid and offline…but not off the air.
It was bliss.
I joined the W4 SOTA Campout–a group of Summits On The Air (SOTA) activators and chasers primarily from the Southeast US–in Nantahala National Forest at Standing Indian Campground. Due to my schedule, I was only there two nights, but it made for a great weekend reset.
I have no activation videos from the weekend (save one short video for Patreon) so thought I’d share a few memories, thoughts and photos from the weekend in a post.
Bumpy start
Due to some last minute drama from our vacation rental guest, I was quite distracted as I left the QTH on Friday at noon. So distracted, I left my main SOTA pack (above) sitting next to our back door. I didn’t realize I left the pack behind until I reached the campground–some two hours away from home.
It’s rare that I do this sort of thing, so when it does happen it can be really frustrating. I didn’t allow that to happen though; I simply used it as an opportunity to adapt and improvise!
Fortunately, I did bring my lab599 Discovery TX-500 and Xiegu X5105 field kits. Once I set up my (circa 1995) tent, I deployed up the Xiegu X5105 and speaker wire antenna on the picnic table at my campsite.
Fortunately, the campground is located in the middle of Nantahala National Forest (K-4509), so anytime I played radio at the campsite, it was a park activation!
Knowing there would be no internet or cell service at the campsite, I scheduled an activation of K-4509 lasting from Friday noon until Sunday noon. Anytime I hopped on the air–in theory–and called CQ, the Reverse Beacon Network would find me, and the POTA website would scrape my details from the RBN and auto-spot me.
I’m very pleased I did this in advance because my other fail-safe–my Garmin In-Reach Mini satellite messenger–was back at the QTH safely packed in my SOTA bag. I would not be using it to ask for a spot from my friends.
Friday evening, I was invited to join some of the W4 SOTA campers at a brewery in Franklin, NC, but I politely declined. It’s so rare I have have an evening completely to myself, I wanted to savor the moment.
That afternoon and evening, I operated POTA, listened to my Tecsun PL-330 shortwave portable, and enjoyed one of my favorite adult beverages (Highland Oatmeal Porter). I kept dinner simple too–I boiled some water in my Kelly Kettle and made a pack of Mountain House Chicken and Dumplings.
I hit the sack early and started reading Foundation by Isaac Asimov. I finished a few chapters before nodding off.
Saturday
My goal Saturday morning (in the rain) was to piece together a SOTA kit around my TX-500. Although the TX-500 kit is completely self-contained in my Red Oxx Micro Manager bag, for a long hike I prefer a backpack over a bag I sling over my shoulder.
Fortunately, I keep an ultralight Tom Bihn Daylight Backpack in my car that I use as an emergency backpack. It easily held the TX-500 kit along with water and other hiking provisions.
I got a somewhat late start hiking because I needed to run into town for mobile phone service because I needed to connect with my wife about our guest.
By the time I packed my improvised SOTA pack, it was about 9:45AM. I decided to hit what I assumed was one of the easier SOTA summits in the area: Standing Indian (W4C/WM-014).
Standing Indian had a number of trailheads and access points since the Appalachian Trail (AT) crosses over it. I knew that it was possible to hike from the campground to Standing Indian, but I couldn’t find the trailhead.
I inquired at the campground office at the same time as two other hikers who were also seeking the same trailhead, so I ended up joining them (Patricia and Christie).
The long, long hike
The first 1.5 miles of the trail were not exactly easy. It was rocky/gnarly and quite wet from the heavy overnight and morning downpours. There were numerous creek crossings: a few with bridges, but most required jumping from rock to rock. Fortunately, my boots are waterproof!
At one point, we lost the trail and had to backtrack. This added a good mile or more to our hike. We took it all in stride, though, because it turned into a gorgeous day and the weather was near ideal after the front moved through.
Eventually, we made it to the intersection of the AT and followed it all the way to the summit of Standing Indian. At one point, we walked the ridge line to Standing Indian summit and were treated to 360 degree views.
It was stunning…
I thought that the summit of Standing Indian was a bald based on what another hiker told me the previous day. Turns out, it was not–well, the proper summit and activation zone were not, I do believe there was a bald somewhere nearby.
From left to right: Me, Christie, and Patricia.
Never leave home without an ATU
By the time we reached the summit, it was about 14:30 local and I didn’t want to hang around for long. We had a decent hike back to the campground on a new-to-us trail.
My hiking friends (Christie and Patricia) wanted to hear me play a little Morse Code, so instead of taking the (much easier) VHF path to activating the summit, I pulled out the Discovery TX-500, Elecraft T1, and my Chameleon CHA TDL.
I’d packed the Chameleon Tactical Delta loop believing we’d be hitting a bald summit and I wanted to test the TDL on 20 meters to see if it could achieve a DX take-off angle.
The true summit, however, was not a bald so I had to set up the TDL among trees.
As I deployed all of my radio gear, I attracted a mini crowd of hikers: three more day hikers, and two AT tru-hikers. I was distracted and made a big error: I assembled the CHA TDL components, and tried to drive the steel spike into the ground while talking with a hiker. But turns out I wasn’t driving the spike into the ground at all, I was driving one of the telescoping antennas into the ground!
I pulled the telescoping antenna out of the ground and discovered the tip broke and the top three sections were damaged–I couldn’t extend them. I was forcing it into rocky ground after all.
Undeterred, I deployed the lop-sided TDL, hit “TUNE” on the T1 ATU and got a 1:1 match on 20 meters.
The 20 band was incredibly quiet. I thought for sure I wasn’t receiving a thing since one side of my loop was completely compromised.
I started calling CQ and within a minute EA2IF answered with a 559 report (bless you, Guru!).
Spain. With a broken antenna and 5 watts of power.
I worked four more stations in rapid succession all in the 1 region of the US, then I powered off the radio before I could hear anyone else calling me. I had achieved a valid activation and packed up quickly: we had more miles to log before sunset!
We hit the return trail…
Headlamp = Safety Blanket
Having put together my impromptu SOTA backpack from components in my car, I knew I’d miss something important.
You might recall from my two-part field radio kit series–specifically Part 2–that I take my SOTA packs seriously because day hikers should carry certain emergency supplies just in case things don’t go according to plan.
Turns out, I forgot my headlamp.
This was a huge omission, in my opinion.
In the autumn, leaves pretty much cover the trails, so hikers rely on trail blazes more than they do in the spring or summer. Add a little darkness to the situation and it can get disorienting very quickly.
Although I knew if we hiked at a steady pace, we’d be back at the campground well before sunset, I worried what might happen if something went wrong; say, one of us broke an ankle. The only flashlights we had were our smart phones and, while a nice fall-back option, they’re not nearly as good as a proper headlamp or flashlight.
I made a mental note to order new rechargeable headlamps for each of my daypacks so, no matter what, I’d have one when needed!
We arrived back at the campsite around 17:30 local having logged a total of 13.5 miles with 2,507 feet of elevation gain. That’s a long hike in my book.
Despite our little detour, forgetting my headlamp, and damaging my antenna, it was an absolutely amazing hike and SOTA activation.
Potluck
When I returned to my actual campsite post-hike, I found that my buddy, Monty (you might remember him from this activation) arrived and had already set up his tent.
Dean (K2JB)–one of the W4 SOTA Campout organizers–hosted a potluck at his campsite. I didn’t have time to make prepare anything for the potluck prior to leaving the QTH, so Friday I stopped by the grocery store and picked up a couple twelve packs of local brew and some sliced cake.
Everyone brought contributions of food and drinks to the potluck, but Dean was the star as he made a number of insanely delicious dishes in his Lodge Dutch Ovens.
I wish I could convey the aroma of wood smoke from the camp fire combined with charcoal briquettes on the Dutch Ovens and Dean’s amazing stew, cornbread cake, and cherry cobbler.
It was a proper feast for all the senses.
Combine all of that with SOTA friends who enjoyed exchanging their stories, their ideas, tips, and laughs? It was proper bliss.
Monty and I left the potluck around 21:00 or so and lit another fire at the campsite. We sat up until the wee hours drinking oatmeal porter and enjoying the amazing night sky.
Sunday
Monty and I both woke up a bit later than normal (I wonder why?).
I made a pot of coffee with the Kelly Kettle, pulled out the Xiegu X5105 from its Red Oxx Hound pack and hit the air. Since I’d made a blanket activation announcement on the POTA website, it only took a couple of calls before I was spotted via the RBN.
I worked another 20 or 30 stations in CW.
Monty made some breakfast burritos and we enjoyed a little more time by the campfire as it was about 38F/3C or so that morning. We eventually packed up the tents and left the campsite leaving no trace at 12:00 (the latest possible check-out time)!
I don’t think either of us wanted to go back to the “real world” quite yet.
Time to plan another campout!
Thank you
Thank you for coming along with me on this report from my SOTA campout weekend.
I know of at least one or two QRPer readers that were at the W4 SOTA campout. It was so great connecting again in person.
Also a special thanks to those of you who are supporting the site and channel through Patreon and the Coffee Fund. While certainly not a requirement–as my content will always be free–I really appreciate the support.
I’d love to hear if you’ve camped out recently or plan to do so int he near future. What radios will you take? Please comment!
