Road trip, Day Two

With apologies for the long delay between posts, here’s a continuation of our Montana trip.

In our little dry cabin 20 miles outside of Glacier National Park, Don and I woke up uncommonly early. Partly this was the restless night’s sleep that comes in an unfamiliar bed; partly this was because of the one-hour time difference between North Idaho and Montana; and partly this was because we were eager to see Glacier.

At any rate, with nothing much else to do, we packed up and left the cabin at O’Dark Thirty (as a neighbor used to say). It was pitch dark. We took the winding road back toward West Glacier and prayed no deer, bear, elk, wolf, coyote, or any other wildlife would lumber, dash, dark, leap, or jump in front of the car.

We made it back to town uneventfully, and scoured around for somewhere we could get a cup of coffee/tea. Finally we found one little drive-through coffee stand that was open – with remarkably cheerful service, considering the hour – and parked nearby and sat at a picnic table, drinking our morning beverages in the near darkness. It was barely getting light and we lingered over the drinks.

At last it was light enough (barely) to consider entering the park.

By happy coincidence, we visited Glacier just one day after reservations were no longer required to drive through the park. Additionally, we didn’t have to pay anything to enter! The ranger at the entry booth confirmed Don was a veteran (fortunately he had his VA medical card with him) and waved us into the park. Nice!

We wanted to investigate the Apgar Visitor’s Center, but it was still closed. With an hour to kill before it opened, we walked along a bicycle path nearby. The park was collecting wood for a future controlled burn.

A chickaree scolded us from nearby. As it turned out, this chickaree was – literally – the only wildlife we glimpsed during the entire day. Bummer.

We walked back to the visitor’s center and noticed the parking lot was filling up and visitors were waiting in increasing numbers. Instead of waiting for the visitor’s center to open, we decided to just go ahead into the park and try to get ahead of the crowds.

Even with the smoky conditions, Going-to-the-Sun Road is breathtaking.

We stopped whenever the fancy took us, and explored footpaths and bridges.

It seemed like every stop was prettier than the one before.

At last the morning sun climbed high enough to peek over the mountains.

We found a parking spot on the side of the road just before the West Side Tunnel, and got out to walk it.

Walking allowed us not only to admire the view, but to appreciate the engineering marvel of the road’s construction.

Inside the tunnel was a “gallery” (which provides both light and ventilation), with convenient pedestrian access.

Needless to say, the views of Upper McDonald Creek Valley from this gallery were breathtaking, if smoky.

We got back on the road and once again were fortunate to find a side-of-the-road parking space just before the Loop Switchback. We walked along and noticed (through the smoke) the very obvious fire damage from many years before.

This fire, we learned, took place in 2003.

Immediately after this stop was the road’s famous switchback, called “The Loop.” It’s one of the many reasons vehicles over a certain length are not permitted on the road – they simply couldn’t make the turn (or fit through the tunnels).

Let’s just say this road sign was very accurate.

In lieu of larger vehicles – or if visitors simply wanted a driving tour – people had the option to take an iconic “Red Bus.”

The switchback also had the start of a hiking trail, though we didn’t follow it.

We navigated the Loop and continued up the road at a significantly higher elevation. The vistas, even wreathed in smoke, were beautiful.

From here, the extent of the fire damage is more apparent.

That’s where we were parked a few minutes ago!

This upper part of the road also gave more dramatic evidence of the sheer engineering that went into its construction.

At Haystack Falls, we pulled over to eat leftover pizza for lunch.

We lingered over the view for an hour. It was stunning, even with the view impaired.

We continued up the road…

…and paused at another overlook.

Far across the valley, we could cars approaching the pullout at Haystack Falls where we had just eaten lunch.

As we approached Logan Pass, the scenery, if possible, became more dramatic.

I mean, c’mon … look at these views!

This is the “triple arches,” a justifiably famous 60-foot length bridging a steep section of cliffside. Again, an engineering marvel, especially considering how it’s pounded by traffic every hour of the day.

Just before Logan Pass, we stopped at a windy pulloff to drink in the views.

The steepness of  the scree slopes was amazing.

Distant trees put the size of the boulders above them into perspective.

Logan Pass itself had a visitor’s center, but signs warned us the parking lot was full, so we made no attempt to stop.

We started the descent on the other side of the pass.

At about Milepoint 33, apparently during bad winters the snow can be up to 80 feet deep!

Approaching St. Mary Lake, we saw charred evidence of the Reynolds Creek Fire that came through in 2015, mile after mile of dead trees.

Despite the fire damage, the lake is stunning.

We descended to the St. Mary visitor’s center on the east side of the park. Since Glacier borders Canada, we liked how the visitor’s center had a Canadian flag flying.

(And bonus for the osprey nest in the parking lot.)

We didn’t stay in the visitor’s center long, but we did appreciate the relief map of the park which showed the road we had just traversed (in yellow) and which gave us an excellent perspective into just how mountainous the park actually is.

We left the park sated with the scenery. It’s easy to see why Glacier is one of the premier parks in America. Someday we want to return when conditions aren’t as smoky and enjoy in the scenery through the clear air.

Outside the park, we turned south briefly on Hwy. 89. We stopped at the Kyiyo Mercantile for no other reason than it looked interesting, but didn’t buy anything.

We did, however, note this road sign documenting our proximity to Canada.

Wanting to avoid Great Falls (and all other large cities), we veered east on Hwy. 2. The landscape couldn’t be more different than Glacier.

We passed through some widely spaced prairie towns. Some were charming, if a little past their prime, such as Shelby.

Others (one in particular) were too dismal to document, and shall remain unnamed.

Loooong trains in this part of the world.

Lots of agriculture, too.

At Chester, we hooked south on Hwy 223 toward Fort Benton, our destination for the night.

In researching the trip, Don was intrigued that Fort Benton – the oldest continuously occupied settlement in Montana – was a port on the upper Missouri River. He found an old revamped hotel called the Grand Union, and booked us a room.

Well let me tell you, Fort Benton was an absolutely delightful surprise.

It was small (about 1500 people) and low-key prosperous, and exceedingly proud of its history. We saw parks and statuary and museums and signage everywhere.

We saw some people actively reconstructing a keelboat…

…and saw documentation explaining the project. 

Our home for the evening was the Grand Union, which I’ll discuss in greater detail in a separate blog post.

It was fairly early after we checked in, so we set off to explore the town, including (ahem) a second-hand bookstore.

It was while browsing the cluttered and fascinating interior…

…that we heard, via the store’s radio, that James Earl Jones had passed away. Don and I were the only customers at the moment, and we commiserated with the proprietor about the loss.

We were getting hungry at this point, and hadn’t passed any restaurants, so we got in the car to more easily explore the town. And here’s the thing: As charming as Fort Benton was, there was a curious dearth of restaurants. In the end, without much option,we had dinner in the hotel.

After dinner, we walked across the nearby Fort Benton Bridge, which spanned the Missouri River. It was built in 1888 and decommissioned from vehicular traffic in 1962 (in favor of a stronger bridge for trucks and cars nearby). It bridge was lovely to walk across, especially in the quiet dusk.

We saw deer drinking from the river…

…and lingering to browse on some nearby willows.

The view across to the hotel was lovely.

We returned to the hotel thinking that Fort Benton was a very fine town indeed, a true treasure.

Source: http://www.rural-revolution.com/2024/09/road-trip-day-two.html