Hiking Chief Mountain US Customs Sucks

The wind started up in the night and by morning it was blowing a gale. Wind is not uncommon at St. Mary but this was some wild stuff. I thought popcorn popping on the roof all night was something. This wind made Clementine bob around like a cork on the water. I think I almost got seasick.

When we looked out the mountains surrounding St. Mary were socked in but when we looked north there was blue sky and sunshine. Kinsey decided we should go north to Waterton. We ate our breakfast and headed out a little before eight. There turned out to be two problems with her plan. 1) We arrived at the Chief Mountain crossing at 8:25 but the crossing doesn’t open until 9:00.  2) Kinsey had checked to make sure she had my rabies certificate but hadn’t checked the date, it was last years. Waterton is in Canada and the US requires a rabies certificate for re-entry. Kinsey spoke with one of the customs people. The gal she spoke to was aloof and purposely unhelpful.  Kinsey says US Customs officers are the most arrogant you will find anywhere in the world. She's been clearing customs since she was 18 so she's met a few. We had 20 minutes to wait for the border to open and there was no guarantee they’d let me back in the country. Kinsey made an executive decision and decided to heck with it. It was going to be windy in Waterton too. We headed back south.

Chief Mountain

Turns out, even though it was windier than anything I’ve experienced, we got a pretty nice hike. We found a couple of very cool tribal trails that go over to the base of Chief Mountain. Kinsey has a thing for Chief Mountain. She’s drawn to it like bees to honey. We hiked one trail as far as we could before we hit a water crossing that would require Kinsey to take off her boots. She didn't want to get her boots wet. It wasn't any problem for me. Kinsey said we would return when she had her water shoes to put on her delicate little feet.

Creek we needed to ford

When we got back to the car Kinsey almost got her legs chopped off at the shin letting me in the passenger side. A huge gust of wind hit just as I was jumping in and it drove that door right into her legs. OUCH! Good thing she had a little tuckus sticking out to act as a buffer. She had a heck of a time trying to get out from behind the door.

The Old Chief again

We headed back to the campground at St. Mary. We’d both had enough of the wind. Turned out there was no way to get away from it.

Much to my disappointment we spent the rest of the day around the campground. Kinsey tried to get her vet to fax over a copy of my rabies certificate but no luck there. I reckon she’ll try again tomorrow. My first international trip may have to be postponed. Bummer!

Kinsey did have a very interesting conversation with a tribal member about tribal politics. Very Machiavellian. Seems us white eyes aren’t the tribes’ only problem. Their own people are busy fleecing the general population. I see now why Kinsey is no fan of politics. She says she’ll be writing an opinion piece one of these days over on her blog TheLiberatedPhotographer.com.

Ciao for now,
MOLLY MONTANA

©Kinsey Barnard

Blackfeet Pow Wow - American Indian Dancers

Well howdeee! We were cruising along in the forties and fifties and then Saturday night shabam! The temperature dropped down to ten and six inches of the heavenly white stuff dropped on our heads. This morning I’m registering zero on the thermometer.

It was so warm earlier in the week I loaded up the four-wheeler and went out to get a head start on cutting up the blow down. Glad I did cuz that particular activity will once again go on the back burner.

Rummaging around in my photo files I came across photographs I took at the 2010 Blackfeet Pow Wow. Somehow I have never gotten around to up loading the photos I took of the dancers. I’m amazed at the number of beautiful images I have that have never seen the light of day, so much to do so little time.

The annual Blackfeet Pow Wow is held in Browning every July. Like most reservation towns, Browning is a desolate place but for a few days in July it becomes a happy colorful place. Tribal members gather to celebrate their heritage and it is a wonderful thing to see.

I took Clementine over (my RV). There isn’t much in the way of accommodations in Browning so I just parked on the grass near the celebration pavilion. There was no charge. The feeling was; come one, come all and enjoy yourself.

If there is such a thing as past lives, and I’m not sure if there is or isn’t, I feel I must surely have been a Native American in one of mine. Every time I’m on the reservation I have a lump in my throat, tears are never far away and for no perceptible reason. The only way that I can explain the feeling is one of grieving. Watching these proud and beautiful dancers was a real emotional ride for me.

BTW, you can click on any of the images to get a much larger version.



There were two elder dancers that really caught my attention, one woman and one man. It was impossible to tell just how old they were but they certainly had been around awhile. Their costumes were impeccable and they moved to the drums with such pride, elegance and grace.





I got a kick out of the minor modern trappings like dark glasses. The faces of these people seemed like maps to the past. I can only imagine what it must be like to walk in their moccasins.



This photo I rather like for the way the sun seemed to shine only on the one, making her look like a chosen princess.



While I think these images are nice to see it was impossible to get shots that did not include astro-turf and grandstands. And, because these dances were competitions the dancers costumes had numbers that were hard to avoid. If wishes were horses I would hire a Blackfoot model, in full dress, to photograph in a more natural environment maybe even astride a horse. If I ever get that wish I’ll let you know.

This last image is of the scrap metal sculptures that grace three of the entrances to the reservation. This particular set is at the south entrance. I just think they are beautiful. More proof of my contention that there is beauty everywhere around us if we just take time to see it. The sculptures are made from rusted auto parts, bits of barbed wire and other scrap. The artist is Jay Laber, a Blackfoot.



Until next week,

©Kinsey Barnard

Blackfeet Pow Wow - 2010 - Feathers

These are just a few of the beautiful feathers pieces to be seen at the Blackfeet Pow Wow.

©Kinsey Barnard Photography

Blackfeet Pow wow - July 2010

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Elder dancer at the 2010 Blackfeet Pow wow.

This gentleman was so very regal. Not only was his costume beautiful but also his countenance as he performed his dance.

©Kinsey Barnard Photography

Blackfeet Nation-Lords of the Plains

Need I say more?

Was over to the Blackfeet pow wow last weekend. Hopefully will have some good images of the event.


©Kinsey Barnard Photography

Running Eagle Falls-Glacier National Park

On the way to Two Medicine, in Glacier National Park, visitors have the opportunity to stop and visit Running Eagle Falls on Two Medicine River. It is a very beautiful waterfall.

The waterfall was named for a great Blackfoot warrior woman and her name was Running Eagle. She was born in the early 1700's in the heartland of the Amskapi-Pikuni. Running Eagle was a real person not a legend or a myth.

Running Eagle's life is an illustrious saga of leadership and daring deeds. She is the only young woman of the Pikuni people to have gone on a vision quest. It was to these falls that she came on her quest and it was at this most sacred place that she had her vision to become the leader and warrior she became.

Running Eagle Falls

Running Eagle became a true woman warrior. She was a great horsewoman, fast runner and an excellent hunter. She was also kind, thoughtful and generous, traits much admired by her people. Her exploits as a warrior, leading war parties and counting coups were recounted in lodges throughout the land.

Running Eagle Falls

Near her thirtieth year Running Eagle was struck down and killed by the Flathead whilst on a raid across the Continental Divide. In a most fitting honor her warriors brought her home and laid her to rest in a tree overlooking these falls.

All I can say is awesome falls, gorgeous spot and beautiful story. I was fortunate to be there when I had the place all to myself, a real gift. I believed I could feel Running Eagle's spirit in the powerful falls and the clear gentle waters that flowed below.

Millions of photographs have been taken of these falls but my most favorite was not of the falls but of Two Medicine River where the falls are located. If you would care to see it go to RUNNING EAGLE MEDICINE

©Kinsey Barnard Photography

Chief Mountain-Blackfeet Country

On the very northeast corner of Glacier National Park you will find Chief Mountain rising up to meet the sky. At just over 9,000 ft. it isn’t a particularly high mountain but it is certainly a majestic one.

Chief Mountain June 2010

Chief Mountain has been a sacred mountain to Native American tribes, particularly the Blackfeet, for hundreds of years. The Blackfoot name for the mountain is Ninastiko. The mountain was first seen by white explorers in the late 1700s and was known as "Kings Peak" on maps produced in the United Kingdom in 1795. Merriwether Lewis, co-leader of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, saw the mountain in 1805 and called it "Tower Mountain". The name was changed in the late 1800s to reflect the Blackfeet naming of the mountain, which was "Great Chief".

Chief Mountain June 2010

The mountain has long been a place where young Native Americans have gone for their vision quest.  A vision quest is a ritual in which an individual travels to an isolated area for the purpose of entering a trance, during which a life path or destiny is revealed. It is quite literally a quest for a vision.

Blackfeet Reservation June 2010

The image above is of the Northern entrance to the Blackfeet Reservation near the Canadian border. You can see Chief Mountain off in the distance.

There is a loop that one can drive, starting from St. Mary, that takes you up to the Piegan border crossing into Alberta and Cardston and then west to Waterton International Peace Park from there back south through the Chief Mountain border crossing. All along this route there is hardly a time when you are out of sight of Chief Mountain and it was interesting to me to watch it change shape as I followed the loop.

Chief Mountain

If you ever find yourself in this part of the world I highly recommend you take this little junket it's quite beautiful.

©Kinsey Barnard Photography

Blackfeet Horses-American Drinkers of the Wind

Although, I set out for Glacier National Park I found myself more intrigued with the Blackfeet Reservation. On the east side of the park you are on reservation land whether you want to be or not. For some reason I was constantly drawn to the mystique of the reservation.

It's hard to, at least for me,  imagine American Indians without horses and yet prior to circa the 1730's the Blackfeet had never seen one. The Blackfeet who roamed the great plains of northern Montana and southern Alberta were among the last Native Americans to know the wonders of the horse. The time before horses was known as "Dog Days" and all portage was accomplished using dogs. All hunting was done afoot. Acquiring horses was a tremendous boon.

Horses were in fact native to North America in prehistoric times but they died out between 13,000 and 11,000 years ago. Horses were reintroduced to the continent by European explorers. Because of their geographic location the Blackfeet were amongst the last Indian tribes to come into contact with the Europeans. The Blackfeet first became aware of the horse whilst battling the Shoshone from the south around 1730.

The photo below is a photo of a photo which can be found just inside Glacier National Park at St. Mary. It was taken in 1914 and I think it's simply romantic and stunning.

Blackfeet at St. Mary 1914

On my recent visit to the Blackfeet Reservation and Glacier Park I decided to look around the reservation for some descendants of the ponies that once chased buffalo across the plains. June is prime foaling time so I was not disappointed.

North of St Mary I took a dirt road to, I knew not where, and discovered a small herd of horses with several foals.

Blackfeet Horses June 2010

Horses, as well as cattle, are pretty much free range and can be found grazing just about anywhere. In the small band that I found was a very new paint foal. Two things I found very interesting about this encounter. First, these horses wanted no part of me and started nervously milling around and moving away as soon as I stopped the car. In the photo below you can see three generations of Blackfeet horses; the sorrel mare, the new foal and the foal's older sibling.

Blackfeet Horses June 2010

The other thing that was interesting was how quickly the band joined ranks to shield the little paint colt from view. What made this so interesting to me is that there were other foals in the band but it was as though this little pinto foal was a crown prince and to be guarded and protected from the likes of me. It reminded me of the way elephants move to surround their young. Clearly a herd instinct but the little pinto was the obvious object of their concern.

June 2010

When they got far enough away they stopped and seemed to relax going back to their grazing. The little paint was a fine looking foal with lovely long legs and wild blue eyes. You can't see them in this photo but trust me they were very blue and very wild. He was a prince!

June 2010

This next fellow, whilst not a paint, I thought was a particularly regal the way he carried himself. It was easy to envision him prancing into battle with a Blackfoot warrior astride his back.

June 2010

In addition to it being foaling time it was also wildflower time and this fellow was looking quite beautiful trotting off in a field of flowers. But, that was the thing, they were always trotting or galloping off! I'm thinking these horses are not getting a lot of use these days because they seemed wild as March hares to me. You'd have a dickens of a time catching one.

June 2010

I didn't really put any serious time into photographing these marvelous beasts but now I wish that I had done. I'm thinking I may have to come back next June and try again in earnest. My imagination saw the wind drinkers of the the Great Plains and the Blackfeet who rode them.  My heart yearns to honor them! All you have to do is look into their eyes and see the what was and what might have been.

©Kinsey Barnard Photography