Saturday, September 17

We're back from a week almost entirely off the grid. Probably nobody cares much about our grid status, but it's on my mind.

After our KOA respite we returned to West Glacier and hiked another "easy" hike -- along Avalanche Creek to Avalanche Lake. The "easy" designation is a little demoralizing to such as me, but once again after we (I) huffed and puffed to the top of the 2.5 mile trail, rewards were had. 

Avalanche Creek is another surreal sight -- pure turquoise.

Avalanche Lake inhabits another glacier-created cirque, and has an almost prehistoric aspect.

Fresh from our hike, we set out for one of the more remote spots at Glacier, Bowman Lake campsite. The road to Bowman Lake is much like the original Oregon Trail.

Wide enough for one and a half vehicles, the road was rutted and featured potholes every inch of the way, some seemingly a foot deep. It took two hours to negotiate the 20 miles of road. There was a lot of silence during this trip. Kate was thinking "I wonder what he's thinking?" I was thinking "What could she have been thinking?"

Part way to Bowman Lake we came to the town of Polebridge.

We asked someone what was the population there, and after a pause he said "Let's see, with the new family that moved in this year it must be 8."

Polebridge Mercantile and Bakery is pretty much all there is in Polebridge, but it's enough. The bakery is incredible, famous for its huckleberry bear claws. People come from far, far away, braving the rough road. During the hour or so we spent there, probably 20 or thirty people stood in line to buy pastries and bread.

Finally arriving at Bowman Lake, we secured our own tidy little campsite.

It being very late in the season, only 12 of the 46 sites were occupied. It was very quiet, and beautiful.

We've encountered much scenic beauty on our travels so far, but I think we both agree that the highlight has been the people. There's something about camping (I grudgingly admit) that inclines people to come together as a kind of instant community. 

The moment we arrived, while the engine was still running Curt from the adjoining campsite came to greet us. Curt and his wife Denise hailed from Wisconsin, were consummate campers, and were eager to help us get settled. Immediately we noticed that everyone seemed to have raging campfires going, and we had forgotten to bring any fire wood. No problem. Curt introduced us to Dave, the camper across the road. Dave in turn offered to walk with me to the distant part of the woods where the ranger said it was OK to harvest fallen trees for fire wood. He said, "Just bring your camp saw." After overcoming his incredulity that someone existed in the world who would come to a primitive campsite with no wood and who didn't own a camp saw, he offered to loan me his.

So I proceeded to saw off some logs, 

and to carry them, two at a time, the hundred yards or so back to our fire ring.

After I had sawed several smaller logs from the large ones, Dave taught me how to split the wood properly -- making sure not to commit common errors that can cause one to lose fingers, a hand, or a leg. After more or less successfully splitting one piece, I retired from the log splitting game. Dave did the rest of the splitting for me. I just felt I was too good a candidate to lose at least a digit while I learned the trade.

My logs.

My labors were rewarded. Kate built a terrific blaze using her "sqaw fire" technique,

she wrapped some chicken, brussels sprouts, and yams in foil, threw them in the fire, and made the best dinner ever.

Bowman Lake, of course is beautiful. What else is new?

During our time there, the weather finally transformed to the previously advertised warm, sunny, September we had been hoping for. That provided a chance for me to take my birthday present, a very classy inflated raft, for its maiden voyage. After pumping it up (almost as exhausting as hiking), I took it to the shore and launched it.  As I boarded the craft in full view of some canoers, I somehow vaulted backward into the water while the raft shot six feet in the air and landed upside down on top of me.  After finding my way out from under with some difficulty, I re-boarded with complete nonchalance. Luckily no video or still evidence of the event survives.

To say it again, the people were the highlight. 

Curt and Denise (with Dave, right) are Wisconsin through and through -- wearing Wisconsin hats andWisconsin shirts, and sitting in Green Bay Packers camp chairs. They were friendly and helpful and fun to talk with -- although a little smug about the Aaron Rodgers/Alex Smith thing (for those who care).

Dave is an engineer from Rochester, NY who was definitely the mayor of our little community. Dave allowed that he used to be a guy who did everything by the numbers and planned to the enth degree. But now he listens to his inner mind, which tells him what his heart wants to do. Still, he spent a lot of time designing the perfect way to build a blazing campfire without having to saw much wood, and finally came up with his "oven." When I asked to take his photo, he insisted on posing with his invention.

Dave and his invention.


The latest arrivals in our group were Sebastian and Jessica, a German couple from Hamburg. 

They're school teachers who are taking their year sabbatical to travel in the U.S. and Central America. In Germany teachers can take every fifth year off with full pay -- how do those Europeans do it? Anyway, these two bought an old Land Rover a few years ago and spent a long time repairing and customizing it -- and they brought it with them.

They plan to travel to California (northern and southern), Arizona, and possibly Colorado in October and November and would love to meet any of you who might like to meet them. If you're interested let us know and we'll put you in touch.

Our camp hosts, Bill and Sally, were terrific. They have visited 43 national parks. They spent hours with us giving us tips on the best places to go, the best things to see, and also lots of practical advice.

We loved our time at Bowman Lake and we may go back again sometime. Now we're off to Missoula.

Sunday, September 11

I think this one is going to be a little long, but never fear. We'll try not to do anything interesting for a while after this.  

We headed from our KOA haven of wifi all the way around Glacier NP to the east entrance on Wednesday. We couldn't go the short way across the park, because our rig is a foot too tall. It won't clear the rocky overhangs on the Going to the Sun Road, the only road through the park. The Going to the Sun Road is 56 miles long, built between 1924-1932. The park covers 1 1/2 million acres, has just this one 56 mile road, but has 750 miles of hiking trails.

On the east side we camped mostly at the Many Glacier campground. Many Glacier is known as the "heart of Glacier National Park," and has a lot of good hiking. The rest of the east side is not short of scenery, either.

Note the definitive answer as to what's at the end of the rainbow....

Our first full day we took an "easy" 6 mile hike to Red Rock Lake and falls.  Despite our expectations of pleasant fall weather, we managed to encounter rain. 

We have a history of going to places where the weather is supposed to be fine, only to be told, "This is VERY unusual. It hardly ever rains at this time of year."  On our way back from the hike we stopped and ate our picnic lunch on the shore of a small lake. Two hours later Kate went on a short ranger-led nature hike that ended precisely where we had eaten our sandwiches. As the group gazed at that spot, Kate saw.....

.....a bear. Luckily it was just hungry for berries, so it didn't charge. Factoid: Grizzlies (which this one wasn't, it was a black bear) eat 200,000 huckleberries a day at this time of year -- 25,000 calories worth. 

Huckleberries in the wild (most have been eaten)

Had the bear charged, Kate could have used her bear spray. Bear spray should really be called bear mace. Mace for humans has 17% capsaicin, an active component of chili peppers. Bear spray is 97% capsaicin, and the spray reaches 20 to 30 feet.  We were regaled with many stories of people who accidentally set off their bear spray and wiped out all twenty tourists on their bus, etc.

One full day was devoted to a "Red Bus Tour" of the park. The red busses are 80-year-old vehicles first manufactured by the White Motor Company of Cleveland. This seemed appropriate, since all the passengers were white. There are more than 30 red busses still in service at Glacier.

The tour covers all 56 miles of Going to the Sun Road -- and back again.  Almost the whole trip is conducted with the convertible top open for better views.

The trip put both of us in mind of our gold standard for cold while traveling: standing on the Great Wall near Beijing in January in a high wind. This trip didn't quite meet the gold standard, but it came close. But the views were worth it.

This one's for scale. The little white dashes toward the bottom of the frame are cars driving on the Going To The Sun Road.

We're determined to hike as many of the 750 trail miles as possible, so we jumped at the chance to join a ranger-led hike to Iceberg Lake. Well, some of us jumped at the chance. The hike covered 10 miles round trip, starting at 5,000 feet and reaching the lake at 6200 feet. 

Above is my view of the hike. A one-of-a-kind photo; the only time I was close enough to the group to make visual contact. I understand the ranger had really interesting things to say.

The lake. Definitely worth the effort to get there. Iceberg Lake is in a cirque - a half-open steep-sided hollow at the head of a valley or on a mountainside, formed by glacial erosion. The high, vertical wall of rock above the lake is an Arrete -- a knife edge of rock formed by two glaciers scraping valleys close together in parallel. The ridge along the top is about six feet wide; the wall itself is so thin you can see through it in places.

Seen along the trail: Many green-tinged and red-tinged rocks.

They're the same rock: argillite. Argillite is a sedimentary rock made from mud and ooze.  Found everywhere in Glacier Park, this smooth clay-like red and green rock was formed when a shallow tropical sea rose and fell multiple times from a billion and a half to eight hundred million years ago.  Present day argillite is green if it was deep under water and not exposed to oxygen.   When exposed to oxygen, the rock “rusted” or turned red. Because the rocks of Glacier Park are this ancient in origin, they predated any life forms other than primitive sponges -- so there are no animal fossils, not even of seashells -- just traces of the sponges.

What's it like so far, having an adventure? Pretty nice. Of course there are adjustments. A while back when we were at our first campsite I explained to the camp hosts what we were doing, and that we were about a week into it. They looked at each other and said "Well, you're still married. That's a good sign."

We are different people. For instance our rig has heating, with a thermostat. I find that the sweet spot temperature setting at night is 55 degrees. That's the point above which Kate suffers heat prostration, and below which I experience hypothermia. Kate is a frugal traveler. For example, we conserve bath soap. We often use public showers, so we bring our own soap. So far one bar has lasted three weeks. Tonight I was sort of taken aback when Kate handed me the soap dish and I saw the tiny smudge of soap in it. On my way out to the shower, she gave me my instructions: "Don't get it wet."

The soap (wet).

Many have expressed envy about our carefree adventure. It is great. I want to provide a little texture -- nuts and bolts, as it were. The bedroom where we've slept for the past 30 years in our not-very-big house is about 170 square feet. Our living space in the rig, serving as living room, office, dining room, bedroom, and kitchen, is 70 square feet. 

Kate enjoys relaxing in the living room/office, reading the local newspapers. Today she had the Browning, MT Glacier Reporter at hand. Excerpts from the sheriff's log:

9:39 a.m. - Officer out with male and female engaged in verbal argument that was just a young lover's quarrel and nothing criminal.

2:23 p.m. - Officer stopped traffic on U.S. Highway 2 to allow the Blackfeet Tribe's herd of bison to cross to their other summer pasture.

3:58 p.m. - Caller has low tire and is in Browning and wondering where she can get some air.

6:31 p.m. - Officer out with older woman just west of the bridge and gave her a ride to Albertsons.



Kate whips up really amazing meals in the kitchen. Lucky for me. We're back at the KOA campground tonight, but Gene (see previous blog) decided not to barbecue during the thunderstorm.

Elegant dining every night.

Converting the space from living/dining to bedroom or vice versa is easy. Just clear the dishes, pull the table out of the wall as hard as you can, fold up and secure the table leg, lift the table overhead and slide it into its storage slot. Then yank on the seat with all your might and slide it forward. Repeat a few times until the seat agrees to slide all the way forward. Pull up on the front of the seat and fold down flat to create a bed. Pull the bedding out from its storage area under the kitchen counter. Wrestle bedding out of stuff sacks (or wrestle it into stuff sacks if converting back to dining area for breakfast). Dive under kitchen counter to tuck in/untuck bedding. This step usually involves cramps in at least one muscle and some profanity.

Stuffing. 

Wrestling.

Tucking (head not shown).

Kate, tucked in for the night, enjoying a chuckle because I can't find my phone and I have somehow got both my legs into one leg of my p.j.'s.

Taking it easy on the road. Carefree.

The rewards are many:

Huckleberry margaritas at the Many Glacier Hotel bar.

The view at sunset from our Many Glacier campsite (that's really the way it looks -- no Photoshop).

The view from our KOA campsite.

The plains south and east of Glacier.

Tomorrow, back off the grid for more hiking on the west side of Glacier.

Wednesday, September 7.  Wifi at last. I'm no expert, but withdrawal from wifi has got to be tougher than withdrawal from crack.

Way back 100 years ago on Friday, September 2 we left Wallowa State Park. But not before another excellent home cooked meal the night before.

We THOUGHT we would travel via Idaho, but decided instead on a route through eastern Washington State and on to Bigfork Montana, via Missoula. Traveling in Washington, we were REALLY out in the country. Lots of dramatic views of the Grande Ronde River and its valleys, lots of agricultural land, lots of forgotten towns and forgotten homesteads.

House in Anatone, Washington

Homestead in rural eastern Washington

We were following a route through Nez Perce country -- places where the tribe lived for centuries, and part of the route of their sad retreat toward Canada, with the U.S. Cavalry in hot pursuit. If you're interested in the history of our relationship with Native Americans, look up Chief Joseph.

We made it from Wallowa to Bigfork in one 12 hour day of driving, arriving Friday night at the home of Jules and Art, a delightful couple who were housing Sarah in their guest room while she volunteered at the Crown of the Continent Guitar Workshop and Festival.  Jules and Art had kindly arranged for us to park our rig next door to them during our stay. No photos of Jules and Art yet, but we'll see them again.

When Sarah says "There's an event coming up that I think you might like," we usually come running if we can. The Crown was definitely one of those unforgettable experiences in which Sarah has landed us.  It's a week long event geared toward teaching and promoting the next generation of virtuoso guitar players. Early in the week there are workshops for students ranging from beginners to very advanced players taking masters classes from some of the best teachers and players in the country. At the end of the week there are performances, culminating with the Finale. The Crown is staged at a dude ranch on the banks of Flathead Lake in Bigfork.

Kate, Sarah and I signed up to be ushers for the finale. We got cool t-shirts and hats, impressive credentials on lanyards, and three meals a day -- all free.

Before the performance began, we visited a friend of Sarah's. Alex is the wife of Tim, one of the featured performers, and also has three kids aged 9 to 12 who were student-performers. Alex had volunteered to be in charge of food for staff and volunteers. None of the other volunteers showed up, so Alex was doing the shopping, prep, cooking, and cleanup by herself for 70 people, three meals a day in her tiny apartment kitchen. Naturally we  (especially Kate) jumped in to help.

So while Kate helped make dinner, Sarah and I got started with ushering. My job was to stand in the aisle of the performance tent and block people from getting to the good seats in front, which were reserved for sponsors and bigwigs. I failed utterly. Early in the performance there was an ambiguous announcement from the stage. All the hoi polloi assumed they could now move up to the good seats -- so they did -- streaming by me as if I didn't exist.  Another career down the drain.

The Finale was out of this world. I feel like I need a thesaurus. I keep saying everything is "fantastic," "unbelievable," "gorgeous."  I sound like Donald Trump.  Nonetheless, the finale was all of the above. Eight straight hours of performers, probably 50 or more in all, who were, um, unbelievable. All were virtuosos of the guitar. Each time an act would perform, we'd think: "That has the be the best of the best -- no one could be better." Then the next act would perform, and we'd say it all over again.  Some of them were famous -- even WE had heard of them. Jim Messina (Loggins & Messina, Buffalo Springfield, etc.), Dweezil Zappa (Sarah took a master's class from him). Most we had never heard of. The Star of Stars was a  guy who wasn't even on the program named Solomon Hicks. A guy named Gonzalo from Argentina was, well, unbelievable. Here's the only video I could get (I was supposed to be in charge of not letting people take videos). Dweezil is on the right.

In years past there were also well known stars at the festival, and others not known to us but no doubt virtuosos all. 

Sunday we helped clean up after the festival, and then were treated to the volunteer appreciation party. Good catered food at a local resort, and some of the most incredible, most unbelievable performers performed all over again -- just for us.

Monday we moved on to Glacier National Park.

Dare I say, unbelievable.

Yesterday we stayed in a campsite inside the park and hiked around Lake McDonald.

I was well equipped and proficient.

Last night, in a rare turn of events, it was my turn to choose the overnight venue. I picked the luxurious KOA camp just outside the park. Dinner by Gene.

Steak and ribs by Gene.

Gene.

Gene is one of many people we've already encountered who live unconventional lives. As far as I can figure out, he runs a transportation business in Phoenix from his trailer here in Montana where he cooks dinners at the KOA resort. He seems to have a few other irons in the fire as well.

Now we leave wifi land and head for the east side of Glacier National Park. I'm bracing for it.