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| Day 1 - Santa Clara, CA Day 2 - Lee Vining, CA Day 3 - Baker, CA Day 4 - Las Vegas, NV Day 5 - Las Vegas, NV Day 6 - Grand Canyon, AZ Day 7 - Durango, CO Day 8 - Glenwood, CO Day 9 - Highlands, CO Day 10 - Highlands, CO Day 11 - Estes Park, CO Day 12 - Craig, CO Day 13 - Jackson, WY Day 14 - Cody, WY Day 15 - Mammoth, WY Day 16 - Choteau, MT Day 17 - Kelispell, MT Day 18 - Sandpoint, ID Day 19 - Omak, WA Day 20 - Anacortes, WA Day 21 - Anacortes, WA Day 22 - Poulsbo, WA Day 23 - Poulsbo, WA Day 24 - Poulsbo, WA Day 25 - Astoria, OR Day 26 - Lincoln City, OR Day 27 - Bandon, OR Day 28 - Eureka, CA Day 29 - Anchor Bay, CA Day 30 - Martinez, CA FINAL THOUGHTS |
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We left the pleasant little hamlet of Choteau behind
and headed for Glacier National Park. We were a little concerned
about whether or not we would be allowed into the park. Last night
we heard that forest fires were only one mile from St. Mary’s, which
is the entrance we plan on using to enter the park. We headed north
on Hwy 387, a smooth, winding back road that narrows to a road without
shoulders for most of its length. This narrow little road runs through
some pretty country with cattle and buffalo ranches or hay farms on
either side of the road (photos 1, 2, & 3). Everyone out
here uses these large mechanized sprinklers on large aluminum wheels,
which roll across their fields (photo 4). As we get closer
to St. Mary’s, the road crosses through the Montana grasslands that
go on for as far as you can see on in both directions.
We had been concerned about riding through another hot day when we started out in Choteau, but it has been a comfortable 72 degrees most of the morning. As we get into the trees and foothills closer to Glacier, the temperature drops even lower and we actually put on our coats. At some point, we enter the Blackfeet Indian Reservation, with a sign saying that we must obey Indian Tribal Law. Shortly after the sign is a sculpture depicting two Indians on horseback. I parked my horse in front and took a picture (photo 5). We stop in St. Mary’s for gas and somehow, get turned around. We end up going about 20 miles out of our way but it was an interesting side trip. On one side of the road, we kept seeing these great scenic appetizers that whetted our appetite for the views of Glacier Park that was to come (photos 6, 7, & 8). On the other side of the road were road signs directing firefighters to their ‘Fire Camp” and the smoke from the small forest fires could easily be seen, burning in the hills just outside the park (photos 9, 10, 11, 12, & 13). We finally get turned back around and find the entrance to Glacier National Park, one of the most spectacular national parks in the country (photo 14). Entering from the East side of the park, you are immediately confronted with these huge, jagged mountains in front of you and then, as you turn the corner an aqua green lake sitting at the foot of another mountain giant, invites you to stop and take a picture (photo 15 & 16).
We dismount and relax in the fantasyland of mountains, rock, snow, and water (photo 17). You can’t see it all. We stop, start, stop, start, shoot from the bike, stop again, all in a vain attempt to try and capture this park on film (photos 18, 19, & 20). We take pictures of majestic peaks with several thin waterfalls running down their emerald green sides. We take pictures of small waterfalls, big waterfalls, and anything else that has water attached to it (photos 21, 22, & 23). This foolishness continues until we reach Logan Pass, the highest pass in the park, at over 8,000 feet. We get something to drink and notice another Goldwing has parked beside us, a blue 1200 Aspencade (photo 24). We will see them several times more before the day is over. They park beside us again at the McDonald Lake Lodge, and later in town. Unfortunately, we never did actually get to meet them. As you can see, they are about our age. While we are at Logan Pass, I convince Linda to let me take her picture sitting in the snow (photo 25). We continue down the other side but this side also has more sheer drop-offs. Around each corner is another peak or waterfall (photo 26). As we are coming down the mountain, the road makes a U turn to the left and you see, what is called the “Weeping Wall” because of the snow melt during this time of year. Now last year I was here and there was a fine line of water coming over the rocks. You could see why they would name this a “weeping” wall. Not enough water for an actual waterfall but interesting. This year, as you can see, there was so much melting water coming down onto the road; they should have called it “The Bawling Your Head Off” wall. I think you can see from the pictures that we got a little wet. We started weeping (photos 27, 28, & 29). Actually, we were having a great time. Linda was trying to take pictures while I tried to avoid the bulk of the water and any traffic while we both laughed at getting wet.
For those of you who liked the Bear Tooth Mountains, then you have got to ride Glacier Park. It’s kind of like the Bear Tooth on steroids. Not as great a distance, but views, switchbacks, drop-offs, and climbs all packed into more dramatic views. It’s great, unless you don’t like heights, then you may want to take Hwy 2 around the bottom of the park. At least that’s my opinion. You can’t go wrong doing either ride. The rest of the ride down the hill consisted of oohs and aahs, and trying to limit the number of pictures we were taking. This is the first time on the trip that I’ve filled more than one memory chip and had to change batteries, to boot. As many pictures as you see here (photos 30, 31, 32, & 33), we culled out that same amount. We tried to reduce it down, but the memory of these great views colored our judgment. If you get tired of looking at them, feel free to move on, we’ll understand. All of the water from that snow has to go somewhere and as you get towards the bottom of the mountains on the western side, you are riding right along side the McDonald River. Linda likes flowers and the wild flowers were out in great numbers, one, called the Indian Paintbrush, caught our attention (photo 34) since they seemed to be everywhere. As we got toward Lake McDonald and the Lodge, their were people playing in some of the slower moving parts of the river, to cool off (photos 35 & 36). Since the weather was getting warmer at these lower temperatures, and we had been on the road most of the day without eating, we stopped at Charlie’s Pizzeria in the park, for a late lunch.
Linda needed to buy some postcards so I waited outside. I got to talking with another Gold Wing rider who had quite a rig. He had an emerald green GL1500 with a matching sidecar and trailer. He was retired and he and his wife traveled the country in this rig. They lived in Florida and had gone up the Atlantic coast, went into Canada, turned left and after a thousand miles of flat farmland, he said he had enough, and turned south for Glacier Park. He was relaxing and having a smoke and I asked if his wife rode in the sidecar. He said, “No, in that sidecar, you can only see to the right and straight ahead. She likes to see all around so she rides up behind me.” What do you use the sidecar for, I asked. “Oh, we just carry luggage in there,” he smiled. I didn’t want to ask what they carried in the trailer. By the way, the trailer had painted on the back, the words, “Katie’s Shopping Cart,” so I guess it was for storing all the stuff you pick up on a trip around the country. We pulled into Kalispell about 6:00 p.m. and began looking for a room. It’s summer and Kalispell is the largest city close to the park so there were lots of people in town. We finally got a room at a large local motel called the Outlaw Inn and Convention Center. After we checked in, Linda got to talking to a fellow who worked there and had been a motorcycle cop in Washington D.C. From his accent, he was obviously raised somewhere in the south and his name was Jesse. It seems that in 1984 Jesse and his wife got divorced and he took it pretty hard. They sold their house and split the equity and Jesse bought a GL1200 Gold Wing from which he proceeded to see every state in our fine Union and then the provinces of Canada. He would ride into a town and ask the local police where the cheapest place to stay in the safe part of town was, and they would usually help him out. He said he had even slept on picnic tables on occasion, and recommended a book that the Gold Wing Road Riders Association puts out with the names of Gold Wing owners, Honda dealers, etc. throughout the U.S. He said that these fellow owners would recommend a place to him, and in at least two cases, put him up in their homes. Jesse estimated that he had ridden more than a half million miles on motorcycles and had burned out on it several years ago. He says he may someday pick up a small motor to run back and forth to the store but that would be all. Jesse was a friendly fella and we enjoyed talking with him. As a former motorcycle cop in Washington, D.C., he had stories to tell about ex-President Johnson as well as accidents he had been in, etc. I am finding that a big part of this trip is the pleasure I get from meeting and talking with other motorcycle riders. There are a lot of interesting people out there. Tomorrow is a commute day. We are just going to meander towards Sandpoint, Idaho on the most scenic route we can find.
This from Linda: A couple of days ago Ed says to me, “You know Lin, I’ve been doing all the writing, if you want to write something too, feel free. I said, “No. Thanks anyway”. I mean, let’s be serious here - what could I possibly write to follow his enlightening and humorous repertoire of our daily adventures? Tonight, after almost completing our stay here in Montana, I thought I would give it a try. Now rest assured we have seen some beautiful places in the last sixteen days, however, nothing has touched my soul so profoundly as the beauty of Montana. Beginning with yesterday, entering the State and stopping by a river to take a picture and having a beautiful, large, yellow butterfly land on my left arm, to exiting one of our nations most beautiful treasures this evening – Glacier National Park. Driving across Montana is like looking at a painter’s pallet of many colors. Green, red, yellow, blue, purple & white- the fields, the flowers, the rivers, and the hills are covered in color. The lone elk, the cattle, the sheep, the horses, the buffalo all blend in with the environment like musicians playing in a symphony. The farmer plowing in the field who takes the time to lift up an arm and wave as you go by, makes you feel like you’ve stepped into a Norman Rockwell painting. My heart says this would be a nice place to live. God is here in Montana. Take care, Linda. |
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