Day 5: Wait a tick...

I must have done something to Montana in a past life, like dumped a metric ton of toxic waste in some pristine lake or ran for government. More on this to follow.

Early yesterday I headed out of Whitefish towards Glacier. I arrived at the park probably around 9:30 or so (I don't quite remember and was too busy looking out the window to look at the clock). Note to anyone who has never visited Glacier, even if you only plan on driving through, it will cost you TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS just to enter the park. The pass lasts for seven days, so definitely plan on longer stays to really get the most out of your TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS. There is one main road through the park going west to east aptly named Going-To-The-Sun road. I'll give it an A+ for a name more interesting than Glacier Drive or Twenty Five Dollars to Drive On This road.

Being from Oregon, I've seen and driven through mountains before, but nothing like this. For as much as I was irked by the steep entrance fee, I must admit that once I got into the park those feelings were mostly abated. Awesome, in the true sense of the word. Nothing I write will really live up to it, so I won't even bother.














I arrived at my camp ground, Rising sun, near the east end of the park around noon. After setting up my tent and paying my fee, I packed my camera equipment and set off on a hike. From Rising Sun, the only official trail is to Otokomi Lake, a 5.2 mile hike that rises about 1900 feet. Keep in mind, you start from an altitude of over 5000 feet above sea level. After about 15 minutes on the trail, I was cursing myself for bringing so much equipment (would I really need a tripod and flash?), but I really didn't want to turn back.

Don't feed the bears bits of yourself.

One thing to note about Glacier, and specifically with respect to hiking/camping there: bears. Upon entering the trail head, there was a sign informing me that I had no guarantee of safety if I went any further. There are many useful tips to avoiding bear conflicts in the literature provided, however. For example, apparently bears don't like to be surprised, so make a lot of racket on your hike. One method of achieving this, which I resorted to since I was hiking alone, is to clap loudly every few minutes. It felt a bit goofy to be honest, but I survived unmauled.

The hike was pretty intense, especially carrying probably 40 lbs of camera equipment, backpack, and water on my back. Note to future self, most of the time all that equipment is not necessary. Seriously.

Probably should have used the tripod for this
shot to justify bringing it along.

I took a break for a bit on the bank of the river the trail followed. It was quite pleasant, and gave my blistered feet a much needed rest.

Inspired by the beauty of the river and determined to see the damn lake it originated from, I pushed on. I had been on the trail for a good couple of hours now, so I felt it must be close. A couple minutes up the trail, however, I met a couple on their way back. Apparently they had left the lake over an hour previous, and were coming downhill.

After weighing my options, and realizing that I was running uncomfortably low on water (I had filled a 2 liter Camelbak before leaving), I decided to head back. I had come about 3.5 miles and risen about 1500 feet; not bad, I thought, for my first major hike of the trip.

Coming back down was (obviously) much easier than going up, and mostly uneventful. I passed a man wearing an umbrella hat ("Gives me an excuse to stop," he said as I walked by), and caught up to a couple who thought they saw a bear on the trail, but which turned out to be a stump.

Not pictured: flies eating of my flesh.

I was bummed that I didn't get to the lake at the end of the trail, but luckily my campground was across the road from St Mary Lake. I bandaged up my feet, put on my lighter backpack and Birkenstocks, and set out again.

The lake was that beautiful shade of blue green, and very very cold (pure glacial waters tend to do that apparently). I sat for a while soaking my feet and soaking in the view, until I could no longer stand the multitude of flies that my salty skin attracted. Heading back to camp, it happened.

Here's the thing about nature. Walking around is like playing Craps with about 6 dice; you get snake eyes much less often than usual, but it still sucks.

Me: (throws dice) Ooo awesome I just got triple snake eyes! That must win something right?!
Nature: Oh bad lucky matey, triple snake eyes wins a tick in your leg.
Me: Bummer.

Yup, I joined the exclusive "I've had a parasite embedded in my skin" club (newsletter forthcoming). After cursing profusely for a few minutes, I decided I better do something about it. I booked it (as much as one can "book it" in Birks with blisters on both feet and aching leg muscles) back to the camp store to see if they had any handy tick removing devices, or if they could direct me to a park ranger.

They had tweezers and a book with an article on how to remove ticks.

I'll take what I can get, I thought, and purchased the tweezers. I sat down on the porch and proceeded to dig at my cafe with my newly acquired surgical instruments, chasing the bugger further into my skin. This was about as pleasant as it sounds, so I won't go into anymore detail. The story ends with me having the campground host dig out the remaining bits with a sterilized needle.

The rest of my night was comparatively boring. I ate, missed the ranger's talk on cats because my clock was an hour late, and went to bed pretty early.

This morning I packed up, and have pretty much been on the road since. I'm currently in Great Falls, Montana, deciding where to go from here. I'm thinking Yellowstone, although I may have had enough of nature for a while.

Trip status: itchy, I feel like I've been eaten alive by mosquitoes.
Total mileage: Just over 1000 (I can't be bothered to level Starbucks to check).
Soundtrack for the day:
The Ataris - so long, astoria
Story of the Year - Page Avenue
Yellowcard - Ocean Avenue & Lights and Sounds
(today was a flashback to sophomore year in college)

Day 3: Revenge of the Roadtrip

Who put a swimming pool out here?

Day three marks my first day of misadventure. It started out well enough, although I did seem to forget when setting the alarm on my cell phone that it stubbornly still believed to be residing in Portland; I won't complain about an extra hour of sleep, though. When I finally did roll out of bed and freshen up, I was greeted with coffee and breakfast before packing up and leaving the Linn's.

They had mentioned Dickey Lake as being quite interesting, and conveniently on my way to Whitefish, so my first stop for the day occurred less than 15 minutes after leaving. And indeed, the lake was beautiful; clear as any pool I'd been in, and amazing shades of green and blue depending on the depth. I strapped on my hiking shoes and went for a nice walk around the edge of the lake, discovering on the way that squirrels make a kind of odd chirping sound when they are either courting or playing (I couldn't tell for sure).

I decided to pack it in and head for Whitefish, which began the series of events which led to semi-tragedy. Somehow, due to the exact angle that I had parked at, coupled with some very suspiciously low parking area demarking stumps, I managed to back up over one stump and land with my front right wheel suspended between two.

Not pictured: one broken shovel

Awesome.

Being a front wheel drive car, my little Civic stood no chance. Surveying the damage and cursing my brilliance, I tried to devise various plans to free my car.

1. Dig out the back stump so I may be able to finish backing up.
2. Jack the car up, place a series of branches and logs of increasing diameters underneath the front wheel to build a makeshift ramp of sorts in order to pull forward.
3. Jack the car up, place a series of any branches that would hold the front wheel up enough so that I was no longer hanging, and try to maneuver out from between the stumps in reverse.

One failed due to the fact that the shovel I brought with me is probably not rated for digging anything more challenging than snow, as well as the fact that the said stump was probably buried ten feet into the ground.

Two failed due to my car not being able to generate enough torque for the right wheel to climb the ramp and simultaneously not generating too much torque so the left wheel wouldn't spin out in the gravel.

Three worked insofar that it got me off of the front stump, but then promptly stuck me on the rear one.

Luckily it was a nice day for a walk. Four or five miles later I arrived at a little store in Trego and was able to use a payphone to call John Linn. It's amazing what a chain saw can do to stumps under your car (once again, I am indebted to the Linns, thank you).

Not wanting my last memory of such a beautiful lake to be of my own stupidity, I jumped in it. Very refreshing. After a quick Douglas Deck Change (sans towel), I was finally starting the short trip to Whitefish; and only three hours late.

Parking downtown, I bummed around for a bit, enjoying the very walker friendly town. Whitefish is a pretty neat little town, part tourist due to the amount of recreation nearby, and part historical landmark. A bit like Cannon Beach on steroids and historical crack.

After sitting on a dock at the beach for the better part of an hour, I had a pretty flavorful IPA at the local brewery tasting room, and headed to the Red Caboose for dinner. Unfortunately the place was mobbed, but I was able to watch the waitresses slowly lose sanity while I waited at the counter. The burger was pretty tasty (swiss cheese with grilled onions and sauteed mushrooms), but according to the local couple next to me, Bulldog is the place for an amazingly decent mushroom swiss burger. Future self, take note.

Sitting on the dock of a bay

Tomorrow I'm heading for Glacier National Park. After reading up on it, I don't think I'm quite prepared (nor have I filled out a permit application) to backpack into the back country. So instead, I'm going to stay at one of the drive in campgrounds and try to get some day hikes in. I'm pretty excited about it, as everything I've heard about Glacier is positive. I may even spend two nights there; one at Rising Sun campground, and the second at Many Glacier. We shall see.

Right now my trip feels: tired from trying to dig my car out.
Miles traveled thus far: 760
Music for the day:
Jimi Hendrix - Radio One and BBC Sessions
Cream - Disraeli Gears
The sounds of thousands of crickets on my walk.