Without a web connection at my hotel, I wrote this Monday evening after day 3. If you don't want to read through all of it and like the picture version, here ya go.
When I was about 15 my parents took us on a family vacation to a cabin (or as my niece calls it, a cabinet) on Flathead Lake, which is south of Glacier National Park. I was in those uncomfortable teen years, and the idea of spending time in semi-remote wilderness was not high on my agenda. I remembered very little from that trip, so decided I'd give Glacier another chance, with older eyes.
I left Missoula sometime around noon and headed up towards Route 93, the main highway from Missoula through the Flathead reservation up to Kalispell. Not being any hurry, I decided I'd stop whenever I had the slightest itch that there may be something interesting to look at or check out. Come to think of it, that's kinda been my motto since this started a few days ago.
About 20 miles along Route 93, I came across a sign for a Bison National Park. I had no idea what to expect, but I showed up at the park, paid my $5 and followed down the road behind another car with Washington license plates (they were Germans who flew in to Seatac and drove east).
The two of us meandered around some rolling hills, until we saw a huge swarm of brown heading in our direction. With both of our cars facing towards a valley, this mass of brown Bison headed right towards our cars. With our cars shut off, we could hear them rumbling down this valley and it was an amazing sight. There were even a few males who were kicking up their legs and going at some of their competition (I found out later its mating season, good thing Annie stayed in the car). After the Bison passed by, I pulled up next to the Germans and both of us were grinning from ear to ear. Just a cool moment which may not sound like much as you're reading it, but was pretty wild.
I hopped back on the road and headed north towards Kalispell. Annie and I stopped at a few Scenic Views along the way, and we took our time making the trip up from Missoula.
As I mentioned earlier, I don't remember much about Kalispell or Flathead Lake area, but driving up Route 93 I felt like I had hit a time warp to somewhere in Central Florida. Home Depots, Costco, Wal-Mart, McDonald's were everywhere I looked as I headed in to Kalispell, and I just wasn't crazy about staying the night at an overpriced chain hotel room along this strip. I poked around in a book I brought with me, and called a number for the Kalispell Grand Hotel, a locally operated place that has a lot of western charm, and its relatively cheap. Located in downtown Kalispell, it is walking distance to a few local food places, and I had a pizza at the local pizza parlor. Kalispell doesn't have the hippy vibe like Missoula, and seems to be a little grittier/tougher. Annie and I went for a pre-dinner hike, took a few pictures, and headed in to Kalispell for dinner.
Tangent: There's probably a scale of "toughness" a city could be measured by. A city like Palm Springs is probably like a 1; while a place like Detroit would be a 10. I think the formula for toughness is some equation of civic pride in its history plus down on your luck plus guys and gals you wouldn't necessarily want to invite over for a barbeque. Oh and it helps if there's a big industry in the town (i.e., manufacturing, lumber, coal, steel).
A few guys in their mid-20s were there as well and we began talking about what they're up to, where they've been, and where they're going. I know, you're shocked I'm talking to strangers, but it seems like every person I chat with has something to share. Could be something about life, the local area, or just a funny story. With these guys, it was all of the above.
First guy was Kenny, a fly fishing instructor who went to Seattle Pacific for undergrad. He had Phil Jackson's wife (or some relative) as a teacher, and was flown to Chicago to watch the Rodman-Pippen-Jordan Bulls. Phil Jackson is legendary up here, and as a guy who lives and dies with Chicago sports its always nice to know where those legends came from. I think a topic for another day's blog would be which athlete/entertainer I'd want to randomly run in to out here, and Phil Jackson would have some great stories. He's got a few games in the next week or so, and unless I stay here through July I don't think we'll cross paths.
The second guy was Mark, a Biologist who tracks the movement of Bears in glacier. I realize some of you are reading this behind a desk at work, and just imagine if your job in the morning was basically to tag bears and track their movement. This was a bright kid who got his degree from University of Montana and he had lots of great pointers for my visit to the park. He gave me some good spots to look for Bear and reassured me that I can see them from safe distance.
For any of you who have been to Glacier, I'm sure you have been on Going to the Sun road, which is a scenic drive through the park. The snow on the road is still too tricky to navigate, so the road is closed. I'm sure there will be plenty of other great things to check out when I get up there.
Tuesday I am going to play by ear in the morning. I'd love to get Annie a day at a Dog Kennel; one where she can run around with other dogs and get dirty. I can't take her out of the car in the park, and she's not exactly the type of dog who will sit and chill and enjoy the view. Annie's priorities (in order) during a walk are: A) Look for scraps B) Avoid returning to the origin point of the walk at all costs C) Leave a scent whenever you remember; even if nothing comes out D) Roll around in dried grass. So if I can find a licensed, trusted place to look after her I may do it.
