The following post chronicles my last three days. I am about to venture over to East Glacier after a leisurely morning playing guitar and making a great breakfast in the beautiful woods of Glacier National Park.

May 9th (written 05/10)

Yesterday was a great day. I woke up at around 10:00 and decided to go Back to the Venus Rising to get some coffee and internet access. While there, I met another great waitress, Dina. I sat there for about two hours, during which time I spoke extensively with Holt, his father, and another Butte native about the happenings of Butte and its what lies in its future. We also talked about some memorable YouTube videos, TED and the new gallery that Dickie and Holt’s father are thinking about putting in the old YMCA building. The project seemed really cool, and later Holt gave me tour of the building and showed me the pool, racquetball courts, full sized basketball court, and track. I had no idea that all of that was in there! I think that a new gallery too occupy some of that would be perfect, and I can imagine some great potential for large pieces to be housed therein. Holt and I decided that some food would be good, so he let us into the Venus Rising and scored us some coffee and an exceptionally tasty cookie that I downed rapidly.

Around 4:00 I went back I went back to Dickie’s to take a nap and eat some lunch. I had pizza and some supermie, did some reading, looked for paint (to no avail), and then slept until about 6:00. After waking up and showering, I went to hang out with Holt and Dina for a while before dinner. We ended up going to Dina’s house and I found out that she speaks Arabic fluently and is half Lebanese. Throughout the night, we talked about the Middle East, and had fun discussing how great the food over there is. At around 8:30 or 9 we went to great Chinese restaurant and had some great noodles and fried rice. I learned that the place used to be a whorehouse, and that is why there are curtains around all of the booths – they used to be rooms. It was great ambiance, and we were right on time to go to the concert at The Dollar’s that evening. We walked into the bar and the band, Srill (sp), had just started. The music was excellent, and every member of the band looked like they were having a blast up on stage. When they took a break, Holt and I spoke with the bassist who was really nice, and I eventually found out that he has known Dickie for a long time since he’s from just north of Butte. We all danced for a long time before going back to Dina’s house to chill for awhile. At around 3, I went home and fell asleep – preparing for a great day at Glacier.


May 10th
Today was mostly spent driving, but the parts that weren’t spent in the car completely made up for it. I woke up later than I expected, and hit the road immediately. I called Dickie and told him that the house was fine, and that I had rally enjoyed my stay. I hit I-90 W and hit Missoula at around 1:30. I called Willa (a friend of Dickie’s who just got done with her Junior year at U. Montana), and she told me that she would meet me at a Giro place downtown. I got there, but it was closed so I called her and we met on the corner near a burrito place. We got our food and then walked to the riverside to chat and eat lunch. Willa was a delightful person to meet. She told me all about the trails around Missoula, and also what her college experience was like. There were many differences, but the overlap was funny too. She has a test tomorrow to finish off finals. After a bit, we said goodbye and I ended up getting back on the road at around 4:30.

The drive from Missoula to Glacier was on non-freeway roads, and it was absolutely stunning. The terrain was mountainous, but with frequent lakes and streams, and the forests were lush and thick with evergreen growth. It actually got warmer as I went north, and settled at a stunning 59 degrees in Hungry Horse, the town nearest the West Glacier entrance. I found out that there are no trailer campgrounds open inside the park at this time of year, so I picked a private campground and chose a spot. I am one of four people in a huge campground with about 200 sites. The forest is really great around me, and I have already seen multiple deer outside the trailer. It is about 9:30 now, and I am going to make some dinner and go to bed. The day has been fantastic with beautiful weather, beautiful scenery, and a great lunch with great company. I look forward to exploring deep into Glacier National Park tomorrow.


May 11th
I have found the most gorgeous place in America.

I rose around 9:00 to grey skies, light sprinkling rain, and about a 40-degree temperature. I ate some breakfast before heading for the park, and drove about 3 minutes before entering the park itself. There was no ranger, though my handy-dandy annual pass would have granted me free access anyway, and when I hit the fork at the bottom of Lake McDonald, I decided to drive east onto Going-To-The-Sun Road. As the lake became apparent, I had to tear my eyes off of the scenery to pay attention to the winding road. Lake McDonald is beautiful, and I was enthralled by its striking cold, still, turquoise mountain water. Coupled with the dreary sky, the atmosphere had a distinct calmness to it that pervaded everything – even the thick cedar and hemlock forests coating the sides of the mountains that surround the 50 million year old glacial valley. The beaches of the lake were composed of perfectly colored stones ranging from pale red to emerald green. Ripples from gusts of wind occasionally lap up onto the shore, but by and far the waters of McDonalds are quiet and still. As I reached the far north side of the lake, I saw the view from my window change from lake to raging river. I drove for about 17 miles before hitting the end of the road, cut short the rest of the way by seasonal road closure due to snow. The drive had taken me to Avalanche Lake Trailhead, and had been about 30 minutes. I spent four hours on the way back down the side of the lake. First, about 500 yard from the turnaround, I pulled over and hiked along a trail by the riverside. I spent about an hour walking along in an incredible old-growth forest. Moss engulfed everything non-living, and the trees stood tall and numerous. The distinct blue waters of the mountain river complimented the green forest, and the sound of water gushing down its cut stone path made the forest echo. Large boulders sat everywhere, covered in life, and the thought of a Grizzly Bear encounter sat stubbornly in the vary back of my mind. I got back to the riverside at around 1:00, and stopped to take photos on the water. Even 10 miles upstream, colored stones covered the bed and sides of the river creating a gorgeous scene at waterfalls, where boulders impede to water’s path. I eventually drove down a couple of minutes, and pulled over to the side of the road. I ventured over to the edge above a steep incline headed straight into the river and ate a great peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Something just seemed right about the moment. Jam is always better in a national park I guess…
My next stop was about 5 minutes down the road, and was a forest hike through another section of forest. This jaunt into the trees was basically unguided, so I just headed directly east for a while. I had an immensely good time exploring the life of the undergrowth and lower sections of the trees. I found many fungus species and also discovered some excellent hollowed out logs housing tons of cool moss and plant life. I eventually arrived at a place right on the lakeside, and as I came close to the waters edge I looked up to catch a Bald Eagle just to my right, flying low overhead, and followed him for a good minute all the way down the side of the lake, out of my field of view. I thought about how perfect it was that our paths crossed right when I got within sight of the sky line above the lake. I sat there awhile, hoping that he would return triumphant with a fresh catch, but he did not appear again. I went about 1000 yards further, and pulled off the road after noticing something in the water. I walked back a couple hundered feet and sat down on the mossy rocks near the lakeside to watch 12 Black Coots a few yards from the shore diving for food. They would sit there, idle in the water, and suddenly yank their heads up in preparation for a dive of up to 25 feet. They would be gone 10 seconds or longer and then return, always triumphant, with their meal of lakebed foliage. It was funny to watch moocher coots on the surface follow their submerged counterparts, waiting for their return with food – they rarely got a morsel. That view was one of the best of the day, especially with the reflection of the mountains on the other side of the lake shining brightly on the waters surface. After that, I made my way further down the east side of the lake and many more times found myself by the waters edge, skipping stones across the calm waters, and counting the number of bird sounds I heard. The record for the day could have easily been nine or ten. As I neared the south side of the lake, I spent more and more time driving, until I reached the fork again. This time, I went right again to avoid the route home. I went to the end of the paved road, and eventually came to a junction with a road leading directly to Canada – just 30 miles. I turned around then, and decided to take another short hike. I drive to the top of a hill, which houses the Huckleberry Trailhead. I was in the midst of the recently scorched area of the forest, but was still faced with tens of thousands of trees. These, however, were only 3 feet high at their tallest. The reason for this overabundance of lodge-pole pines is the fact that these trees drop two types of pinecone. The first type releases its seeds when it matures, but the second type matures into a tight cone covered in a hard waxy lamina. If there is a fire, this wax melts off, releasing seeds into a fertile ashen soil. The tallest features of the landscape were the snags – charred trees broken a quarter way up, creating a small nesting site for birds, insects, and all sorts of other life. Through the hike I heard many, many birdcalls, but unfortunately did not glimpse any of their owners. Perhaps the scorched landscape provided just enough gray to camouflage any birds that are brave enough to take flight in the coverless ecosystem. The end of the hike came much too soon, the loop only taking about an hour. I headed back to the campsite, only stopping twice more. The first stop was an overlook where I met a very strange family from southern Florida. The husband had parked his car in the middle spot of a 10-space parking line, and told his family to wait in the car while he got out, took five steps forward, and looked out of his binoculars at the scenery. When I inquired about whether he saw anything he replied that he didn’t but that he insists on his family remaining inside the vehicle in case of a bear attack. He indicated that he had also left his door open in an attempt to facilitate a speedy getaway. The man was a complete nut-job, and I tried to tell him that he was being irrational, but he continued to ask me if I had seen wolves, and to watch out. Luckily I had just read that there have only been two wild wolf births in the western United States in the last 75 years. The guy left, and proceeded to hinder my way down by going 15 mph under the speed limit for the rest of the easy drive. My second stop was a local store to pick up some fresh Huckleberry Jam. Huckleberry jam is interesting because the huckleberries from which the jam is made can not be hybridized or cultivated. This means that pickers need to search for all their berries in wild environments on mountainsides, and furthermore means that in peak seasons the jam can run up to 55 dollars a gallon. I bought a small jar’s worth, and arrived back at Rita at around 6:30. I have been relaxing and as it is about 9:30 I am about to cook dinner. I look forward to a great day tomorrow, perhaps taking a long hike up to a fire lookout, or if it is raining I will go to East Glacier, where there are sure to be many interesting places and things to explore.