I am sitting in the van tapping out our daily report as a huge thunderstorm is crashing down around us. Karen is in the tent reading “Boys in the Boat” to Julia and Kellan (and I am sure, trying to stay awake.) We are now in the Pacific Time Zone.
As planned, we made an early departure from Big Arm, Montana. We have established a good system for taking down our tent and packing the van while the kids eat Honey Nut Cheerios. We got to see the sunrise three times on our trip to West Glacier this morning. No, it didn’t take three days. As we moved northeast, we kept finding ourselves in the shadow of the mountains and we were greeted with fantastic colors each time the sun poked above the ridges.
The first sunrise, just after departing Big Arm.
By 7:30 AM, we were navigating the narrow and winding the Going To The Sun Road, heading for Logan Pass. The chemistry teacher at the skate park yesterday had advised us to drive straight to the visitor center at Logan Pass to get a parking spot and then do some hiking. He suggested that instead of continuing down the other side of the pass, that we come back down the way we came and to stop along the way at places we had identified on the way up. His short list of recommendations was probably the most valuable advice we have received on the trip thus far.
Sportsmobile and Wannabe. Early entrants in the Logan Pass lot.
We packed a small backpack with some fruit, granola bars and a half-full water bottle for what Karen billed as a “short hike”. The six-mile round trip may qualify as a short hike for Karen, but the rest of us were thinking it seemed like it might be quite long. Nonetheless, it was spectacular.
A bluebird day. Perfect for hiking.
The day was clear and calm, the views were amazing, and we saw plenty of wildlife including marmots, ground squirrels, and mountain goats. At mile 1.5, we decided that due to our lack of water (and lack of breakfast for Karen and me) we should probably abbreviate the hike. This was a wise choice that followed the golden rule of out-and-back hiking: turn around before you get tired.
Gorgeous view. You can see the smoke starting to crest the ridges.
A perfect table for building small cairns, overlooking hidden lake.
Kellan spotted this whistlepig rooting around in the clover. He wasn't interested in us until I whistied at him and he popped right up to see who it was. Not recognizing us, he put his head back down and resumed the feast.
Karen with cairns.
No selfie stick required. Hold a regular camera and people will usually offer to take your family picture.
As we descended, we enjoyed surveying the types of people who were climbing up. The breadth of preparedness was impressive. We saw a woman hiking in tight jeans wearing small leather flip-flops. We witnessed more than one person dressed like they were headed into the Himalya for a month. One fellow was carrying two cans of bear spray, one on each hip, like six-shooters. We saw children with bells around their necks so the bears could find them easily. Trust me when I say there was enough traffic on this trail that Old Griz probably wouldn’t be interested in any of us anyway.
The mountain goat's best bear protection is to climb higher than the bears.
Speaking of traffic, when we returned to the parking lot around 11 am, there was a palpable tension. All of the parking spaces were full and cars were standing in the aisles waiting for someone to show up who might possible be leaving. We almost didn’t get out of our space as the three cars aiming for our patch of pavement all tried to shoehorn themselves in. I chose to not look back to see who won our spot, certain that witnessing the inevitable parking lot rage could only delay our trip. If Yellowstone was like Foxboro, the lot at Logan Pass was like Black Friday at Wal-Mart.
Hungry and thirsty, we couldn’t wait to get down and grab some food. But the Going to the Sun Road is not the type of passage that accommodates rushing. Especially in a Sprinter which, at 20 feet long and 9 feet high, measures slightly under the maximum for vehicle size that is allowed on the road. We took our time on the descent and marveled at how much the valley had filled with forest fire smoke since climbing the road earlier in the day.
The road up is called Going to the Sun. Unless you are an attentive driver, the trip down could be called tumbling to your death.
"Hey, I know that Sprinter!" The MAX BMW Motorcycles license plate frames always get looks from BMW riders on the road.
A 4,500 acre fire on the east side of Glacier National Park must have been stoking up. The smoke was blown into the western valleys to the point where we had to put up the windows and turn on the AC.
We stepped back in time for lunch at the West Glacier Restaurant. Whoever owns and manages the place has done a really nice job of maintaining a throw-back atmosphere. It was pleasant without feeling overdone. We filled up on french fries and sampled a few other marginally healthy items before dragging ourselves out to the parking lot., knowing that food comas were forthcoming.
Western americana with comfort food.
I made it about 1.5 hours before the tryptophan from my turkey club got the best of me. I had to ask Karen to drive. When I woke up about 1/2 hour later we were all thinking about how great ice cream would taste. We spotted an ice cream stand while going 40 mph and somehow Karen managed to brake and turn so quickly that it was only a few moments later that she had a Huckleberry shake in hand. The Sprinter, which everyone says looks so top-heavy it might tip over, handled the cranking turn effortlessly.
The Blue Moo comes through.
Our destination for tonight was Farragut State Park, near Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. We had picked the campground the night before since it was on our general route, but given the short window, we were unable to make an advance reservation. However, this being a fairly large park on a Monday night, we figured that we’d be OK. The sandwich board at the entrance noting “campground full tonight” was not what we had been hoping to see after a long day in the van. We thought that perhaps the visitor center would be able to recommend an alternative campground nearby. Instead, they offered us one of two available tent sites. We were thrilled and relieved.
The tent sites are immaculate. The park is huge and appears very well-maintained.
Farragut State Park sits on Lake Pend Oreille and our campsite is just a short trail ride from the lake. This evening we unloaded the bikes and mounted up for the downhill cruise through some very tall and very old pines to reach Beaver Bay. The natural lagoon was a perfect spot for cooling off.
Throughout the park there are wide smooth trails for walking and biking.
This small bay is probably the warmest part of Lake Pend Orielle. (Pronounced Pen-Dor-Ay)
The profile of the coastline is similar to our favorite lake at home.
We reheated on the uphill ride home, but as the day was cooling and thunderstorms were looming, we didn’t worry too much about it. We cooked a simple pasta dinner, did the dishes and were fully battened down when the thunderstorm hit.
Tomorrow morning we will pull out the atlas and talk about where to go next. It will definitely be west. Washington State, here we come!