Arrow-right Camera

The Spokesman-Review Newspaper The Spokesman-Review

Wednesday, August 21, 2019  Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883
Rain 71° Rain


Sports >  Outdoors

Montana hailstorm slaughters 11,000 birds

UPDATED: Wed., Aug. 21, 2019, 4:50 p.m.

Thousands of birds were killed on Aug. 11 when a destructive hailstorm lashed regions northwest of Billings. According to Montana Fish, Wildlife, and Parks, the supercell thunderstorm “killed and maimed more than 11,000 waterfowl and wetland birds at the Big Lake Wildlife Management Area west of Molt.” Molt is about 20 miles west-northwest of Billings, Montana’s largest city.

Sports >  Outdoors

Matt Liere: Reflections

Standing behind the kitchen window, I sipped tentatively from a cup of morning coffee, watching a pair of roosters strut along the eastern side of the garden fence.
Sports >  Outdoors

Reader photo: Mountains in sight

Bruce Cunningham took this photo of Gunsight Mountain in the foreground, with Hunt Mountain to the right and Hunt Lake below, in North Idaho’s Selkirk Mountains earlier this month.
Sports >  Outdoors

Information sought on Hazard Creek fire

The U.S. Forest Service’s Law Enforcement and Investigation Team is looking for information related to the cause of a two-acre fire that was detected on Tuesday near the Priest Lake Ranger District Office.
Sports >  Outdoors

S-R outdoor writing contest runner up: Abloom

Because I didn’t take a Klonopin, the California poppies are much brighter, like embers that could ignite the roadside. Still, it seems the ones I’m staring at are not exceptional. The cars and trucks on the two-lane highway continue to pass by them, rolling slowly through the town’s one block, drivers and passengers with eyes forward or downward, their windows up despite the warmth, a changing climate controlled from a plastic dash panel.
Sports >  Outdoors

S-R outdoor writing contest winner: The Vanishing Lake

The kayak slips through slate-gray water, so still this morning that the only movement comes from the pull of the paddle, the only sounds from an occasional bird trill or cricket chirp. I am at the western edge of a lake whose shape resembles a sea serpent on topographical maps. To my left, several scraggly trees shelter a dusty picnic area; to the right, columnar basalt cliffs rise in two tiers above the water. The prow of the kayak points toward the length of the two-mile lake, nudging through shallow water surrounding a small island. Beyond, the view opens up to the half-mile-wide, twenty-foot-deep body of the sea serpent. Walls of variegated brown basalt enclose the water and reflect a reverse image on its surface.