Did you miss me?

July 18

It's been quite a while, and I have been remiss in keeping this up. So I'm going to catch you up, perhaps with a bit less detail than you might have got otherwise (which may be a good thing, after all!).

I left Lethbridge on Thursday the 9th, heading through Cardston (very nice town, with a huge Mormon temple that you can't go near unless you're Mormon) down to Glacier Park. For those familiar with the area, I took the Duck Lake road instead of the usual route (I couldn't go over Sun Road, and didn't want to go over Kiowa road or go down the switchbacks of the Hudson Bay divide), and it did turn out to be a good choice. Going through Customs was easy, although the inspector did want to see my registration and he also came in and took a look to make sure I wasn't smuggling anyone (he also looked in the fridge, presumably to see if I was lying about the food I'd brought back, and he commented on a plate of cookies that Mom had made--I offered him one, but I guess that would be a bribe so he refused). The weather had been drizzly and cloudy, with the odd sunny break, but I still stopped at Marias Pass to check out all the statuary (I had forgotten how unlike most mountain passes Marias is--it just looked like a flat spot in the road). It started to rain in earnest about 10 miles from West Glacier, which didn't stop the residents from driving like idiots. I stopped at the Glacier Highland for lunch (including huckleberry pie, which was delicious), then off to Apgar.

The campground there is huge and wooded with pine trees. I circled a couple of times before picking a nice little level-ish pull-through, which allowed me to use the fridge without much fuss. I let the cats out of their travel kennels and they had a great time looking and listening and smelling. I spent the rest of the day wandering over to Apgar village, doing a bit of shopping and checking out the lake between rain.

The next day was lovely, weather-wise. I had decided to do a horseback ride, and took a shuttle to Lake McDonald (the park has begun running bus-like shuttles along Going-To-The-Sun Road to relieve congestion, and they're great--I'd just take a shuttle wherever I wanted to go, and only had to wait once when a shuttle was full). It turns out I was the only person going on this two-hour ride, but since they don't have minimums I had my own private tour. They put me on a big dark horse called Rock, which I was hoping was for his temperament but seemed to be more like his intelligence. Getting up on him was interesting (getting down even more so), but my guide Brandon was quite fun to talk to. Although I could have done with Rock decided not to walk, deciding to eat instead, or walking WAY on the side of the trail, which was particularly fun when we were descending to cross the creek. But the real fun was going through a tunnel under Sun Road. Brandon's horse, Casper, was a bit antsy and decided to freak out when a car went over the road. Because Casper freaked, Rock did too, decided to buck once and whirl around to get away from the "danger". Well, I hung on, but we were still in the tunnel when he whirled and I scraped hell out of the fingers of my right hand (which were holding the reins--the left hand was holding on for dear life to the saddle!), but I did manage to get him to stop before we hit the creek. After we both calmed down, we turned around and continued. Quite memorable! Although once was enough!

After the ride I wanted to do something more quiet, so after cleaning my injuries at Lake McDonald Lodge I took the boat ride. The lake was smooth as it ever gets, and the ride was lovely except maybe for the small child who was obsessed with Bigfoot and was all over the place loudly looking for him, much to the amusement of his doting parents. Me, not so much. Then back to Apgar and more reading and relaxing (and the occasional nap).

On Saturday, I took the early shuttle up to Logan Pass. It was great to sit in the front passenger seat (there is an advantage to traveling alone!), where I could look straight down at times. Then again, it did freak me out a bit, but still. At the pass I was going to go to the Hidden Lake Overlook, and was trudging up the boardwalk (with two marmots showing off which allowed me to stop and rest a bit while watching them), until I noticed that to get to the top I'd have to go up a very steep snowfield. Well, I'd had enough problems going up the not-so-steep snowfields on the path (they were actually slush fields and were very slippery), and I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and turned around. Not everyone was so smart; apparently a bit later in the day someone destroyed their ankle on this snowfield and had to be carried down and evacuated by rangers. Sometimes I make the right decisions!

I took another shuttle down the east side to St. Mary. I then walked to Highway 89, looking for the Park Cafe. The big problem was, I didn't really remember where it was. Luckily I headed in the right direction and had a quite delicious lunch (boysenberry pie this time!) before waddling back to the visitors center. I had thought about taking another short hike or two, but they all seemed to be straight up or straight down, so I just headed back to Apgar and sat with the kitties. I did go to a ranger talk about geology that night, and it actually managed to get me interested in rocks! I also discovered that there were huckleberry bushes growing in the campground, so I grabbed some dessert.

I did want to do a hike, and had heard that the Avalanche Creek hike was a good one to try, and since I don't really want to hike alone in the bear-infested wilderness, I decided to go on a ranger-led hike that Sunday morning. Turns out the ranger had just accepted a permanent job at Cape Hatteras, so we had a lot to talk about. I did well on the hike as long as we stopped a lot to talk about whatever, but flagged quite a bit at the end. It didn't help that a bear had been spotted that morning up at Avalanche Lake, being a bit too curious about hikers. So I spent a lot of time hollering (which the ranger admired, since she couldn't holler that loud herself) at intervals, to let the bear know we were coming--well, us and the hordes of other people who were doing this "easy" hike (bah--if this was an easy hike I'd hate to see a hard one!). Avalanche lake was indeed lovely, with streams of water falling down near-sheer cliffs to join the lake, but I decided to hike back down with the ranger, who said she was planning on going easy since she had bad knees herself (as do I). A guy who was working the summer driving jammers joined us, and we gimped down the mountain only to find that there was a bear down there too, who had apparently sauntered onto the trail and used the trail bridge to cross Avalanche Creek before disappearing into the woods. So I hollered some more, and was very glad to reach the road intact. I caught a shuttle to Lake McDonald and had a bison burger to celebrate my achievement/survival (bison is flavored much differently than beef, but it was still good). Then it was (you guessed it) back to Apgar to stick my poor feet into the lake and read. While I didn't see a bear, I did see a moose along the road (he'd been there for a couple of days, and the ranger who was doing the hike had been late because she had to deal with the resulting "moose jam" of people stopped on the road to see the moose. And I also saw a bus of teenaged guys from Mississippi who were staying at the Apgar Lodge arrive, dump their things in their rooms, and then go swimming en masse. I don't believe they had ever encountered water quite this cold, and the yelling was very impressive.

The next morning, it was raining again as I headed out. Once I got past Columbia Falls, it rained so hard that I actually had to stop right outside of Bigfork because I couldn't see the road anymore. Luckily there was a gas station with a huge lot, so I just parked a bit (as did the RV travelling behind me) until I could see again. Not only heavy rain, but also thunder and lightning! The wind was too bad, although there were whitecaps on Flathead Lake, which seemed a bit odd.

The rain tapered off and I actually saw a bit of the Mission Mountains, which was nice. There was some serious construction all the way from Arlee to Evaro Hill, and I was glad I wasn't too tired and had took my time (they seem to be widening the road as well as installing wildlife tunnels underneath), but I got to Missoula OK.

I stayed at the Missoula KOA, which used to be way out on the edge of nowhere but now is practically in the middle of town--I do believe that they've built up all the valley floor, which is a bit astonishing. I got a nice spot with some shade, and took advantage of the laundry as well as the no-kids-allowed hot tubs a bit. My parents met me that night and we did the usual Missoula stuff: eat at the Mo Club and the Shack and the Bagel Place, hang out at the University (I got to talk for a while to my advisor who I hadn't seen in a long time), wander downtown, drive around, etc. No bars hit other than the Mo Club, but you can't have everything. I also got to go to an Out to Lunch at Caras Park, which was swarming with people as there was an International Choral Festival in town this week, so lots of singing (ah, culture!). I also sterilized my RV water tanks (which takes a lot longer than one would think), so now I'm not too afraid about using the water, since I know where it's been and how old it is.

And yes, the inevitable happened: Puck fell off the over-cab bunk. He was trying to wake me up the last morning in Missoula, using the "I love you so much!" method, which involves rubbing against me with great vigor. Since rubbing his side on my face didn't work (other than me sputtering and turning over), he decided to rub against my legs, which unfortunately were close to the edge. I felt him fling himself at my legs, heard a scramble and then a thud. By the time I pivoted to look over the edge (I can't sit up in the bunk), he was sitting up and shaking his head. Before I could worry too much, he jumped back on the dinette and then onto the bunk, to see if I was getting up. He seems OK, though he's limping a bit (I can imagine he'd be a bit stiff after that) and he's MUCH more careful about the edge!

Yesterday I headed out, but not too far; it was supposed to be around 100 in Missoula today, so I wanted to get somewhere cooler, and figured going up was the key. I'm currently in a Forest Service campground in the Lolo National Forest. It's been about 92 today, which is better than 100, but still very hot. No hookups, so I don't have air conditioning or electricity and such, but it was so dark (millions of stars!) and so quiet last night, I slept like a log. I did wake up twice because my neighbors were clapping, presumably to warn the bears that they were on their way to the outhouses (no running water either) and to go away. Nobody got eaten, so that's good. I was going to do a nature hike, but there are no pamphlets left to tell me what I'm looking at, so I mostly just read and put my feet in the creek and read some more and took the occasional nap.

Wow, lots of motorcycles; they've been going up and down the road like crazy and a bunch just pulled in. Guess the campground will be fuller tonight! I'm rather bummed I didn't get a streamside spot (there are only three that are of any use to RV's), because it's cooler there as well as having nice sound effects, but oh well; I've a nice level spot on the hill above. I just wish it'd cool off a bit.


July 19

Well, it did cool down eventually, although it was still hot when I tried to go to sleep at 10pm. I did manage to fall asleep, and slept quite well once I did. Puck woke me up at about 5am, so I put him in the kennel and went back to bed. I was eventually woken up by the motorcycles leaving at 6:45am--five Harleys make quite a lot of noise! I left about an hour later and went up to Lolo Pass. There's quite the visitor center there now, along with a winter warming hut for the skiers. Unfortunately, it didn't open until 9am Pacific Time, and I didn't want to wait around, so I left and headed back to the Bitterroot Valley, then south. While I didn't stop at Lolo Hot Springs (when it's 90, a hot spring rather loses its appeal), it sure does look huge! A hotel, a casino, a restaurant, a bar, all along with the hot springs buildings.

Much of Highway 93 through the Bitterroot is now four-lane, and I got to take my time. Visibility wasn't what it could be; I wasn't sure whether the haze was smoke from various fires or just general humidity and pollution (Missoula was hazy too). Hamilton has grown quite a bit as well from what I remember it. Headed up to Lost Trail Pass was quite steep, though I did find a lovely campground right on the Bitterroot River in the mountains that I'll stay at next time.

Again, the road was four-lane for the steepest part, so I just plugged along (I did go faster than a truck with a homemade trailer though--we're not the slowest on the road!). After crossing into Idaho for a bit it was back to Montana and the Big Hole Valley. I'm glad, on the way down, that I had brushed up on downshifting in an automatic vehicle; it turns out that the Glacier vans were also built on Sprinter chassis, and I watched the drivers downshift and upshift all along Sun Road.

The Big Hole Battlefield is set in one of the few oases in a very, very dry area. I went to the Vistor's Center for a few minutes, and then walked to the battlefield itself. While I didn't spend a lot of time (I was a bit worried about the cats getting too hot in the RV in the sun) I did spot the remnants of some trenches that had been dug back in 1877 by soldiers. The battle was because a band of Nez Perce Indians refused to go to the reservation set aside for them in Idaho and were headed peacefully to Canada to throw themselves on the mercy of the Queen. Well, the US wasn't happy about that, both because of the disobeying orders and because the authorities were worried about the natives rampaging (which they weren't doing--most were non-warriors, lots of women and children and the elderly--all they wanted was to be left alone, but after the Little Big Horn battle the year before, that wasn't going to happen). The soldiers attacked first, then the Indians fought back (maybe to allow the surviving noncombatants to escape). You know a place gets little rain if trenches dug in a woods more than 130 years ago are still visible!

I left the battlefield and headed onward. The town of Wisdom is perhaps best known as one of the coldest places in the lower 48 in winter, and I can see why--a flat plain, dry as a bone, at about 6000 feet elevation with mountains surrounding it. Yeah, cold. Not today though; today it was hot. I headed south toward Dillon, past Jackson Hot Springs (basically a wide spot in the road with a hotel/bar/hot spring) and past Bannock (near which the RV set a new speed record--72 mph, down hill but still) and eventually to Dillon, where I filled up with diesel.

North of Dillon I passed Beaverhead Rock, which was a landmark that Sacajawea recognized as indicating that her homeland was to the west. It really does look a bit like a swimming beaver, from some angles using a bit of imagination. I went through Twin Bridges, and now I'm in at a KOA near Virginia City. Very nice people run it, but otherwise I'm not impressed--my site isn't level, it only has 15amp electricity (which means I can run the A/C or the refrigerator or the microwave, but only one at a time--I have the fridge running on propane), no pool (sigh), and very few trees. My outside thermometer says it's 97 in the shade, and I believe it.

Unfortunately, most of my rig is in the sun, and even though I have the A/C on high it's still 87 degrees in here. I don't think I'm going to be able to live in this RV in Panama City during hot weather; the A/C sounds like a wind turbine and is shaking the rig with its running, but it's not very efficient. Hopefully I can find a nice efficiency to rent until May or something. I'll worry about that later; I have both a month reservation at a campground as well as two weeks reserved at the state park in Panama City, and I'll decide which to cancel soon. Meanwhile, I really hope it cools down--I hate this weather! Come on, rain!

And while it says that it has WiFi here, I've connected to the network once, it vanished almost immediately. I went to the office and asked them to poke it, it came up, I tried to post this, it crashed again. Ye gods. Let's hope the third time's the charm. And I hear thunder!