Afternoon on the Big Hole

Afternoon on the Big Hole

20x20

The gray sky hung in over the land around Wisdom, Montana, and though I am a fan of the huge blue sky, the gray afternoon crept into my bones and into my palette and brought our all the rich colors of autumn. 

I grew up in New England, where fall was a glory, a riot of color and heat, crimsons and deep oranges, yellows so bright they look lighted from the inside. Fall skies were blisteringly blue, clouds sharp and white, and unless the trees were blazingly colored, it wasn't a good autumn. 

The West is so different. Here, near Wisdom, under a soft, gray sky, the grasses shone subtly yellow, the evergreens made a deep, dark background, and whatever those spiky bushes are - I never found anyone who knew - they added deep red splashes with purple/gray shadows at the base. I saw no fish rising, and saw only that one guy fishing, but I know what a perfect river this is for autumn fishing and, yes, for autumn painting. 

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Scenes from the Road

The Big Hole at one of its wide points, south of Wisdom

Saw this lone guy fishing both days I was in the area. 

When you're up this high, on the high plains, you're pretty much in the sky. 

 My second day in the area, the sun did come out. 

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Dog of the Day

Yup, it's Koko, and we're celebrating her coming to live with us, just about a year ago. 

Peter saw Koko, who was being fostered by our friend Christine Stark, and he knew she was my dog. And he knew how much I needed a dog, since the death of my Jojo. So I stopped in to Christine's house on the way back from a show, and got little Koko. 

Even though we didn't know each other that well, Koko knew I was her human, and she wasn't letting me leave Christine's house without her. 

A year later, Koko is my best doggie girlfriend. She has helped bring me back to life after Jojo's death. She keeps me company, greets me with delight every time she sees me, and makes sure I take time to play, each and every day. 

Big Hole River

Big Hole River

10x10

The sky was gray and overcast when I arrived in Wisdom, Montana, but that was OK. I brought all the sunshine I'd need. Wisdom, after all, is one of my favorite places on earth, and to me, it's beautiful in sun or rain or deep clouds, and that's what I got. 

On the way from Butte, I'd seen gorgeous views, tawny, burnished fall colors, and the river shining blue and gray as it curved through the countryside. Tiny towns gave way to open spaces, and the air grew cooler and fresher by the mile. 

People were camped everywhere along the river, and cars were pulled over, too, while people scouted and waited and hunted. I only saw one person fishing, and he was on the river all day. 

Sometimes on painting trips, it's hard to find the right thing to paint. In the Wisdom area, there was something to paint everywhere I turned, and I spent no time looking for the better view, the better site. When I saw something I wanted to paint, I found a place to pull over, and I set up and painted. I could have spent a week right there, and still, I'd not have made all the paintings I wanted to make. 

This was my first painting of the Big Hole. I love the way the river curves around the little hummock. Love the colors of the grasses and the red bushes, and how they contrast to the thick evergreens on the far bank. With this painting, I felt like the paint and the landscape were one and the same, in a way. Both spoke to me, and I heard them equally. 

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Scenes from Wisdom

An eternity ago, Peter and I lived in Boise, Idaho. We fished a lot while we were out there, in small rivers and big ones, unknown creeks and world-famous fly-fishing spots. One of my favorites was Kelly Creek, in northeast Idaho. 

We took a trip there one fall, and we camped in a great spot in a national forest, down a long, bumpy dirt road. The river was gorgeous, clear as glass, full of west-slope cutthroat trout, and Peter and Gus (our bichon) and I had a great time camping and fishing. We went down that long, bumpy road, and at the other end, found ourselves in Montana, just outside the teeny town of Wisdom. 

There's nothing much in Wisdom, not really. It's a town of 100-plus people, probably about 100 buildings and a few roads. There's a hotel and a B&B. There's a restaurant, two bars, a gallery, a general store, a gas station, an outdoors store/espresso bar and a few other businesses. A few ranches skirt the borders of the town. 

And then there's everything else. The land stretches away, flat, high plains with the Big Hole River winding through. At the edges, in all directions, are mountains. The air is brilliantly, beautifully clear. The light is thin and white and sharp. At night, it's not traffic that you hear but cows mooing. I've never seen more stars. 

I fell in love with the area when we were there so many years ago, and I fell in love with it again this time. It was the start of hunting season, and fishing was still going strong, so it was a busy time for Wisdom. I could only spend one night in town, and even that was a fluke, as a hunter had caught his take and gone home early. 

I made the most of my time there, scouting the Big Hole, painting like crazy, and taking tons of photos to paint when I get home. 

 Above and below, the beautiful Big Hole River. Lewis and Clark decided to name the tributaries of the Jefferson River Philanthropy, Philosophy and Wisdom, but settlers changed the names to the Big Hole, Beaverhead and Ruby. But the name "Wisdom" stuck for the town, and just east of Wisdom is the Wise River, and Wise River Valley.

 Above and below, a couple of the ranches along the Big Hole. 

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Dog of the Day

Two were standing on the box in the back of the truck, while the third waits in the driveway. They were barking their heads off, too, as if balancing back there were not quite enough. 

Little Bighorn

Little Bighorn

10x10

The wind continued to make painting difficult as I traveled from Sheridan to Butte. I stayed off the empty, windy highway as much as I could. It was windy on the side roads, but not quite as windy as on the highway. I was able to pull into a wide place at the side of the road near the Little Bignorn River, and painted sitting in the van, my legs hanging out the side door. It was a beautiful spot, and made me think a little of Wachapreague, with the grasses and the rich autumn browns and oranges. 

It wasn't until I finished the painting and continued on my way that I realized I'd been painting the Little Big Horn, a river made famous - or infamous - by the battles fought along its banks. The Battle of the Little Bighorn was fought quite close to where I made this painting, in Lodge Grass, Montana. It was one of the major battles between Native Americans and whites, and in this case, the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne and Arapho defeated the U.S. troops, killing Gen. George Custer and hundreds more.  To read more about the Battle of Little Bighorn, click here. 

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Dan Bailey Fly Shop

We've received the Dan Bailey Fly Shop catalog for decades. It's a pretty specific catalog, quite large and glossy - and I have to admit, had I even thought there really was a Dan Bailey Fly Shop (why didn't I think there really was one? I don't know! It always seemed like the Amazon of fly fishing), I'd have thought it would be bright and shiny and glossy, like the original Cabela's, which I visited a few years ago. 

So when I called Peter and told him I'd had to stop in Livingston, Montana, and he said - No kidding, that's where Dan Bailey is! - I was delighted and surprised. And I was even more delighted and surprised to find that Dan Bailey was not a bright, shiny, glossy shop - like LLBean has become - but was relatively small and very homey, full of wood and brick, big windows, high ceilings and hardly any gloss at all. 

I was even more delighted when the guy behind the cash register told me that he was an artist. And as we talked, it turned out that he was a really good artist, well-known and apparently well-selling. 

He showed me photos of some of his paintings. They're fun, bright, graphical and many are very large. He told me he paints with nails and spoons, among other items. The pieces he showed me were mostly birds, but there's a variety of his work on his website, JoeFaysArt.com. 

He lived in Los Angeles for years, and has had had shows at museums and galleries in the US and abroad. He and his wife moved to Montana after Joe spent part of a year as the artist in residence at Yellowstone. He works at Dan Bailey to get out of the studio, he told me, and also because he loves to fly-fish. And I bet he gets a good discount. 

The history of the Dan Bailey Fly Shop is pretty interesting. There really WAS a Dan Bailey.  In the 1930s, he was a professor at the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute. He and his wife visited Montana on their honeymoon, and spent the next summer camping and fly-fishing in Montana. She drove the car off the road at one point, and they ended up staying in Livingston for a couple days while it was repaired. 

The previous summer, Dan had found that he was unable to get fly-tying materials while he was in Montana. While the car was being repaired, he found a store in Livingston that he could rent for $20 a month, and thought that a fly shop might be a good idea. The next summer, he left teaching and moved to Montana and began the business. It took a while for his wife to join him, but she did. Some good press and some visits by famous fly fishermen helped get Dan's business off the ground, and by the mid-1950s, the shop was established, and Livingston was known as a top fly-fishing destination. For more on the history, and on Dan Bailey's successful efforts to protect Montana's waterways, click here. 

The store is now run by Dan's son, John. Joe the artist told me that John was the fly-fishing advisor for the movie "A River Runs Through It," and in the photo above, you can see stills from the movie. 

***

Dog of the Day

A hard-working cattle dog heads back to the barn. 

Yellowstone River

Yellowstone River

12x36

I had to hide from the wind as I painted this piece. I was up on an overlook above the river and the plains beside it, and I was sheltered a little by the hill that continued to rise behind me, but the wind was swirling and blasting and puffing all around me. I was able to use the van to get some relief, but it was still a struggle, and when I got as far as I'd gotten in the P in P below (painting in picture, is what I call these to myself), I realized that the wind had won, and I packed my painting in the van and headed off. 

For a while, I thought I might leave the painting like this, with the black sky showing above the river, but I talked to Peter and we ended up agreeing that it was too much black, too much negative space, so I filled in the sky. What do you think? Would you have left it as it is below? 

***

The wind was so strong that day that Montana had put flashing signs out on the highway, warning about the wind. It was blowing my van all over the place, and so after miles of fighting it, I gave in and decided to stop early. 

I found myself in Livingston, Montana, which charmed me completely. Its historic downtown is full of interesting-looking restaurants and galleries. The buildings have an early 20th-century feel that is comfortable and funky. And there are some great signs left from that era. 

Also, Dan Bailey Fly Shop is in Livingston. We've been getting catalogs from this place for decades, and so I was thrilled to see it in person. That's it below, with the great fish sculptures over the door. More on my time in the fly shop tomorrow! 

It's hard to see in this photo, but on the hill overlooking Livingston, where many towns have the first letter of their town, or their high school football team outlined in rocks, Livingston has the outline of a trout. 

The hotel sign above was one of the cool signs left from an earlier era. And I just loved the name of the cleaning establishment below. Forgive me the crookedness of this and any other crooked photos. My computer system is refusing to straighten certain photos, and though I've tried everything I know to do, including calling Apple, there is no solution. 

Many utility boxes in Livingston are painted with art! 

Way out in Montana, in the middle of the West, I met this lovely couple - from a town not so far from  Charlottesville, Virginia! 

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Dog of the Day

Met these oldsters in a parking lot in Butte. They love the car! 

Looking Over and Near Three Forks

Looking Over

10x10

As I was setting up to paint this, in a large, sandy pull-over at the top of a mountain near Three Forks, Montana, a county police car pulled up and turned around right beside me. It was fine for me to paint there, the officer said, he was just turning around. Hunting season had just started, and he was out scouting, making sure there were no problems in his territory. 

He said he'd been in law enforcement for almost 20 years, and was planning on retiring in a year or so, and going into something entirely unlike law enforcement. He didn't know what yet, but maybe it would be something like teaching. Something where he didn't have to carry a gun. 

He urged me to be cautious, to keep wearing my bright orange vest, and to enjoy Montana. Wish I'd taken a photo of him. He was a nice man and a good ambassador for the state. 

***

Near Three Forks 

10x10

I painted this in the same spot as "Looking Over." It was a lovely, lonely, beautiful Montana spot. I looked out over big, steep hills covered with golden grass. In the valley was a ranch with cows and horses and lots of large equipment in the yard. Beyond the ranch, the plains seemed to run out forever, with the mountains like a wall at the edge of eternity. 

I tried to find this spot on my way home, but I couldn't! I'd have made a third painting from there, if I could have located it again.

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Here are some more photos from southern Montana. 

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Dog of the Day

Here's Henry, doing some leaf-peeping! Henry was named after 

Henry Standing Bear, from the Craig Johnson "Longmire" books!