Trego's Mountain Ear

"Serving North Lincoln County"

Tag: nature

  • Trego’s History Is Twentieth Century

    I’ve been encouraged to research and write Trego’s history.  This first section basically covers 1900 to 1925, from a Sociologist’s perspective rather than a historian’s.

    Trego’s history begins with social and economic events – there is no individual responsible for building the community, despite the fact that Octav Fortin was the first settler.  The first official institution was the school – School District 53 was created by the Flathead County Commissioners in 1904, as they looked at a location with a single operating ranch that had development barreling down on it – from the southeast, railroad reconstruction moving the mainline through the area that would become Trego, to the southwest was construction of the logging dam on Fortine Creek (though in those days, it was Edna Creek all the way down to its juncture with Grave Creek where the two streams joined to become the Tobacco River) and, to the North, where the Forest Service was beginning construction of the ranger station at Ant Flat.  Simply enough, Trego started as a construction boom town, and the official focus wasn’t the town, but the elementary school.

    A drive to Kalispell shows the narrow passage between stream and stone as you travel past the Point of Rocks – a name that preceded the restaurant that burned several years ago.   You can note it as you drive between Eureka and Olney – a place where the rock wall almost pushed the early travelers into the Stillwater River. The first ten years of the 20th Century opened travel to Trego – partially with the railroad pushing a line through from Whitefish to Eureka, where it joined the paths down the Kootenai River from Canada.

    For those who want to look at history as occurring due to exceptional men – there were exceptional men.  John F. Stevens was the engineer who relocated the Great Northern main line to run through Trego (he also located Marias Pass and the Panama Canal.  “Big Daddy” Howe headed the Eureka Lumber Company, and was responsible for bringing the logging dam into existence and its twenty-year operation.  Fred Herrig, the rough rider who tracked and recovered  Teddy Roosevelt’s lost mules during the Spanish American War in Cuba,  became the Fortine District’s first ranger.  And, of course, Octav Fortin who was here first. The reality is that Trego was twice a boomtown, both times due relocation of the railroad and building of a new dam.

    The most credible story I’ve heard for the town’s name is that a Great Northern employee who was courting a girl in Minnesota or Michigan, named Jeanette Trego, assigned the name to get along a bit better with her Father.  Then, in a predictable error, the railroad station next to Octav Fortin’s ranch got the Trego sign, while the Fortine sign wound up posted at the next station to the north.  There are other stories – if you prefer them, I won’t argue.

    For Trego, commercial transportation began with the Splash Dam on Fortine Creek – built around 1905, and last used in 1924.  The remains of the dam are about a mile south of Trego School, on the Dickinson place.  This photo, from 1922, gives an idea of Trego’s early history.  (Note the logs along the bank, waiting for the next flood to transport them to the mill in Eureka)

    I recall my grandmother’s concerns about playing by the creek – and hadn’t realized that the final use of floods to transport the logs occurred thirty years earlier.  And that memory brought the message home that most folks who live here don’t realize just how important the dam was in settling Trego.

    A dozen years after the dam was built, Trego became the site of labor unrest.  ‘Big Daddy’ Howe ran the lumber company in Eureka, and the laborers who ran the logs down Fortine Creek and the Tobacco River were unionizing – chief among their demands was a call for hot showers as part of the working requirements. 

    Waseles was known as Mike Smith – and ran the crew that specialized in the twenty-mile river run that kept the mill running in Eureka.  He died without any known next-of-kin, so P.V. Klinke (assigned as executor by the county) sold his homestead (just below the dam) and bought the large tombstone you see as you drive into Fortine Cemetery.  

    Their 1917 strike grew into a nationwide timber strike, and ‘Big Daddy’ Howe refined his already existing hatred of organized labor . . . specifically the International Workers of the World, the IWW.  

    When Waseles died, he was under indictment for torching a logging camp, and for sabotaging the log runs by throwing all the tools he could into the pond behind the dam.  (I am still using a double bit axe whose head I recovered from Fortine Creek, and, with a new handle, a recovered cant hook now works my small mill a century after the log runs and the great strike)

    Trego was typecast as a hotbed of socialist wobblies for many years by Eureka’s more prominent residents – a view that diminished rapidly with the many union jobs that came into both communities with the railroad relocation that accompanied Libby Dam in the sixties. 

    By Loco Steve, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=54585133

    The logging dam operated for about twenty years, and was mostly gone by the time the railroad mainline bypassed both Trego and Eureka – but the sounds of the trains still are heard in Trego in the 21st Century.  And the Jake brakes of logging trucks have replaced the floods that moved the logs down Fortine Creek to the sawmills.

    The Great Depression came early to Trego – while my Grandfather kept the two homesteads that he bought in 1917 and 1918, he moved his family to a small town near Spokane in 1925.  He continued to spend parts of summer and fall in Trego, pruning and harvesting Christmas trees.  The big mill in Eureka had closed, and Trego’s industry was left to small mills and tie hacks for the next 30 years.  While the automobile age was well begun in 1925, my grandfather moved to the Spokane area with his children in a covered wagon.

    Next Chapter – 1925 to 1950 – active years with few records

  • A Rough Year for Fawns – and Skunks

    The first two fawns we saw this Spring were in the mouths of coyotes on the game cameras. It’s a data point, not necessarily proving any trend – but it does support my hypothesis. Coyote predation has changed – and here’s the story as I see it.

    For several years, we had a pack of two elderly coyotes on the hill. He was buff – several times I had folks who glimpsed him tell me of a wolf. I had better views – for some reason of his own, watching me on the tractor was a worthwhile activity for him. I don’t know why -with his deep chest there may have been a little bit of dog in his genetics. Makes no difference – he knew he coexisted with humans, and left the house and my little dogs alone.

    His consort was missing an eye – the sort of thing it takes a lot of observation and trail camera time to observe. When they hunted, he was invariably to her left. If she did any tractor watching, she picked better concealment than he.

    I don’t know what took out the old coyotes – it could have been someone with a rifle, but it is probably just as likely that it was old age. If he went first, the wild life would have had no place for her disability. For whatever reason, my small pack of neighborhood coyotes is gone.

    In the absence of a resident pack, the trail cameras show that we now are included in the overlapping ranges of 3 larger packs – one group comes from the north, a second from the southeast, and the third from the west. Where we once had a pair of coyotes making a living full-time, we now have over a dozen hunting on the edges of their expanded ranges.

    The prey species has changed – the trail cameras show that the new packs have all focused on feral cats. Non-ferals, too – we don’t know how Cream disappeared, but circumstantial evidence points to the west coyote pack. And the population of feral cats living in downtown Trego is declining on the trail camera. I don’t know which pack has developed a taste for skunks, but fewer skunks are showing up on the cameras (I can’t believe we would have three packs of skunk-eaters.) I suppose that reducing the skunk and feral cat populations does help keep the area free of rabies.

    I kind of miss the old pair of coyotes that coexisted well with us – on the other hand, an uncontrolled population of feral cats pretty much calls for something to start preying on them. Studies in Chicago show that coyotes keep cat populations confined to residential areas.

  • A Gopher in the Garden

    Well, technically the beast is a Columbia Ground Squirrel – but it has moved in at a time of my infirmity – as I use a walker to get the left knee back into shape, pretty much confined to the porch and first floor, the gopher has moved into the garden. And he goes down the row, eating the peas down to ground level.

    Fifty or sixty years back, I was trying for gopher control in the same location, and I accidentally trapped a lactating badger by her front foot. I had heard all the stories about how dangerous a badger could be in close – but when I knew she had little ones, leaving her trapped didn’t seem right. So I got her where she pulled the trap and chain as far from the stake as I could, and as she strained against the trap, I used a stick to take the tension from the jaws of the trap, and she pulled loose. I picked up the rest of the gopher traps, and felt good for the rest of the day.

    The next day I was back with the 22, shot a gopher, and she bit it, backed off, and apparently made the decision: “This guy helped me when I was trapped, and now he’s helping me catch gophers while my foot hurts. He’s OK.” I spent six weeks or so that summer shooting gophers for my badger companion. I don’t imagine we were ever much closer than 20 yards or so. We probably hunted together no more than 40 times – but it turned into one of my more fun hunting experiences.

    So I’m thinking of my badger buddy as I try to come up with a plan to get the gophers out of my garden. In the old days, I would have bummed a bit of 1080 – but my new world doesn’t allow such lethal formulas to its citizenry. I remember that I own 3 gopher traps – but I don’t remember where I stashed them. I could borrow a trap from a friend, and build a mini-fence around the gopher hole – but that would be a lot easier with a working left knee. It looks like my solution is going to be these green bait bars in a bait station

    Fortunately, I have the internet and amazon prime available. By the time I can get out to the garden again, I’ll have my green bait bars and bait station. It’s been a good problem to have – remembering the mother badger that was once my hunting companion.