Glacier National Park

Post date: Jun 26, 2016 6:13:28 AM

I awoke at 0600 to a beautiful morning on the cusp of Glacier National Park. The night before I had passed the visitor center not a quarter mile down the road. The center didn't open until 0800, so I continued backtracking about 10 miles outside of the Park to take some morning pics. While taking the pics, I heard the distant nay of a horse and spotted some wild stallions in a small valley near the road. It was pretty cool.

I sampled my first ever Huckleberry pancakes at St. Mary Lodge Restaurant. They taste very similar to blueberries but are a little more tart. Fueled and ready to see Glacier, I headed into the Park.

Man, the weather changed quickly. There are some points in Yellowstone that are much higher in elevation than in Glacier; however, the northern latitude makes a substantial difference. It's flippin' cold up there.

The must-hike trail in Glacier is called the Highline Loop, but unfortunately, it was closed because part of it was still covered in snow and ice. Too bad. I decided to hike the first park of it up to the Chalet.

I partnered up with a couple of folks from Houston, TX, Casey and Shayne. We hiked a good part of the way up to the Chalet, but the weather turned bad on us. It was really cold, pouring rain, and really windy. Not to mention that at the moment we stopped to ponder our reality, a hiker coming down the trail informed us that there was tale of a large grizzly bear in an upcoming area of the trail. We decided to head back.

While I on the way back, just before the parking lot, there is a bridge that passes in front of a very pretty cascading waterfall. Shayne asked me to take some pictures of her and Casey, which I did gladly. Then, Casey gave me the hold-on-a-minute sign and ran up to my vantage point. He said, "I'm proposing to her and only ran up here to pretend to give you my camera." I blinked in amazement and said, "No shit?! Go for it." I've never been party to a marriage proposal, let alone filmed one. I videotaped the proposal, and she obviously said yes.

Back at the bike, I had to dig out some dry clothes because I was soggy. The last thing I wanted to do was ride in the rain wearing wet clothes. I changed and headed on my merry way, in the cold wet rain that lasted from Glacier all the way to Spokane. I give an honorable mention to Flathead Lake south of Kalispell, MT. It's huge and very scenic.

I had a bit of a hair-raising experience along the way about 15 miles off of Montana 200 West. I'm in the middle of the mountains. It's cold. It's raining. The face shield in my helmet is fogging up. My gloves are soaked. My hands are pruned. I'm riding on a road that cuts through a valley that is lined with pine trees on both sides to the edge of the road. I've had three deer bound across the road in front of me. It's getting late. I'm tired, and I need to get to civilization. All of a sudden, I hear my GPS direct, "In a half mile, turn left on Montana 7623 Development Road." What? Development Road? WTF?!

I get to the road, and it's paved for about 200 feet. Then, it turns to gravel and disappears between adjacent mountainsides onward to the wilderness. A sense of trepidation sends chills up my spine. A winding gravel road in the mountains late in the evening... What could happen? I pop a tire? I wreck the bike? It breaks down? I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere on a road that probably is hardly ever traversed by anyone. I'm off my GPS route, clearly. I mentioned the weather conditions already. Have I mentioned that I'm in the middle of bear country? Grizzly bear territory. I stop at the beginning of the road and play with the GPS app. No matter what options I manipulate, it says to take this road. So, after some investigation, I determine that the route across this road is 10 miles. Ok, 10 miles. I'm wasting time here and quickly becoming irritable. I go for it.

What I didn't see at first glance was the sign at the edge of the woods that said, "This road not suitable for cars or trucks with trailers." Bom bom bommmm. I've already wasted half an hour sitting in the rain fiddling with the GPS. I'm going for it.

I rode that winding gravel road up the side of this mountain where it dipped, rose, and switchbacked more times than I can count. I don't think I ever got about 20 mph. Putting. Putting up a gravel, mountain road. There were huge rocks in the path. Fallen trees had been cut and barely drug out of the roadway. I had to open my face shield and dip my head a bit several times in an attempt to dry the fog so that I could see.

As I'm riding I notice that it's getting colder. Colder hell! It's starts snowing. Big snow. Holy shit, what in the Sam Hill am I doing here? I reach the summit and stop in a large opening about 30 yards in diameter. The trees have been cleared. The road has turned from gravel to dirt that is clearly now mud. I have street tires on this bike. There are three offshoots from the road running in varying directions. One this way. One that way. One the other. Where do they lead...? Which way do I go...? To hell with this! I'm turning around. I road up here, and I'll damn sure ride back down. I'll backtrack the 15 miles to the nearest town and figure it out there. Come hell or high water, I'm getting off this mountain.

The ride back down was surely quicker than the way up. As soon as I hit pavement, I had a greater appreciation for how much of a road bike my BMW is. It rode as smooth as still water in a lake. A dream. Oh, there's a truck pulled off the road in a turnout. The lights are on. It's running. I can see the steam from the exhaust. I pull along side the vehicle and motion for the driver to role down the window.

The driver rolls down the window, and before it stops moving, I blurt out, "What's the quickest way to Coeur D'Alene?"

As he replies, "Take this road back the other way about 20 miles to I-90," it becomes readily apparent that this guy has been "hittin' the sauce" as one would say. No wonder he's pulled over. I'm glad I didn't pass him while he was moving. Take this road back the other way? I curse you GPS app! Curse you!

20 miles my ass. More like 60. It took over an hour to get to the interstate, but you know what? I wasn't on the top of that mountain. The road I was on, Montana Secondary Highway 471, was a stellar motorcycle road. Too bad the weather conditions were deplorable. It would have been nice to ride it gifen better conditions.

In Coeur D'Alene, I stopped at a place called Wolf Lodge Inn Steakhouse. It's visible right off the interstate, but it's in the middle of what appears to be nowhere. They cook steaks over an open pit using tamarack wood. It gives the meet a distinct flavor that is really tasty. I recommend you eat here when in the area. It was WAY better than Sir Scott's Oasis in Manhattan, MT.

While at Wolf Lodge, I attempt to use the Marriott app to book a hotel room. It gives me an error and says to call customer service. Bleh. This has happened before. I'm going to the hotel. The app did tell me that they have availability. It's a 45-minute ride into downtown Spokane, WA.

Whoa! There are streets blocked off. What are all these people doing about at this hour? What are all these basketball goals put up on the streets about? Turns out, it's HoopFest in Spokane. Great! I hope the Marriott app was correct about vacancies. If I have to go searching for a room, I'm going to blow a gasket.

I approach the front desk. What do you mean you can't take a rewards point reservation as a walk-in because you are on "autograph" property? Seriously?! I'm going walk 100 feet out the door to my motorcycle, grab my phone, and look at you through this glass wall while I make a reservation. Capiche? Absolutely ridiculous.

So, I call Marriott Platinum Reservations as I sneer at the front desk through the glass. After some minutes, the agent confirms the hotel I'm staying at. I repeated the name to them twice as I read it on the side of the building from the valet area.

The agent says, "Let me call the hotel, that way they have the reservation ready for you in hand."

I said, "Uh, I'm looking at the front desk right now."

Nothing... They hung up on me.

Fuming, I walk back to the front desk.

"Oh, yes sir, I see you have a reservation," said the guy at the front desk.

"Your reservation is for another hotel down the street."

WHAT?! Many curse words come out of my mouth.

After an hour of trying to get a room at what I'm later told is the swankiest hotel in Spokane, I get my room key to the upgraded Junior Suite. I strip down and hit the sack. It's 0030 the next morning. Almost 20 hours on the move. Sleep.

Reveille, reveille, reveille! At 0600, one of the housekeeping staff turns on a water extractor to suck up water in a room across the hall. It sounds like the engines on a Boeing 747 at full power. At 0600?! I blow a fuse. Apparently, a pipe burst in that room and flooded it overnight. Maintenance got the water turned off, but the carpet was soaked. This is another story for later.

I've tried to catch up on my blogging, but it's now 2312, and I'm tired. I have to pack in the morning and head for Canada. I'll post more about Spokane, HoopFest, and working on my bike later.