Ode to the Fourth of July: Oh say can you see by the dawn's early light--the mists off of Lake of Shining Waters with Harold in the foreground. Sunday, July 4th, in commemoration of the holiday, Harold thought we should start this post with “Oh, say can you see….” It is very appropriate as we try to describe what we saw. Our morning alarm was the Loons on the mist-covered lake about 6am. (Shelley says that the sounds for Jurasic Park had to have been recorded from these Loons!)
After some fixing of things by the buys (oh yes, part of every trip), we were on the road about 10:30am. We left Piney Campground and drove meandered on the Pinther Scenic Loop. This road is a small valley between mountains. Amazingly beautiful scenery and many small towns barely around 200 people. We thought all along the route, how do these people make a living? It became a game to “see” that each town had an LDS Chapel.
Bearmouth area: Definitely a part that we drove though fast for Shelley’s sake.
We know why they call it Big Sky country. A beautiful blue and clear or a baby blue with cumulous clouds with a few stratus flitting around.
On our way to Glacier National Park it was a “sign spying” contest through the Indian Reservations of Flathead, Salish, and Kootenai. Can you just see this in your own mind? Amy driving and reading the signs –not in English, but in Flathead!
The English translation of some of these signs were:
Coming Back Down to the Water’s Edge, Place Where You Surround Something, Forest Tapering to a Point, Kicking Horse Reservation, and such.
We saw the first Buffalo Burger and Moose Burger signs. But we really feel bad that we didn’t have time to stop at Big Ethel’s Eatery!
Our curiosity was piqued but we also felt such sorrow and dismay at seeing frequent white crosses along the road sides marking the deaths of those who have been before us on those roads. At one point there was one marker that had 5 crosses on it. With gratitude we note that there were no white crosses inside Glacier National Park. (This could either be because no one has died on the “Going to the Sun” highway, or they don’t want you to know someone has died on that road—that story is below.)
We arrived at 3:00pm in Kalispell and the men suited up in rain gear. The rain storm had arrived and we made the decision to go through the park anyway. This is where we parted with the truck and trailer because they wouldn’t allow it in the park on the “Going-to-the-Sun” road Logan Pass. So Shelley commenced on her journey around the park on Highway 2 then on Highway 89 to Browning. But we’ll come back to this part of the story later.
It is interesting to drive through Glacier Park on motorcycles in the rain and wind and cold (at one point it turned to sleet).
Glacier Park
There are many routes through and around Glacier but the “Going- to- the- Sun” road had been noted as one of the musts on the trip. As was noted earlier, Shelley was taking the trailer around the park, as vehicles longer than 21 feet were not allowed on this route. (For good reason, we discovered later.)
The rain had lessened through the lower elevations, past campground turnoffs, rivers and heavy forest. Tim and Becky took the lead, Debbie had her first chance to ride with Henry, with Amy and Harold following behind. Still in the forested lower elevations, we stopped for a photo opp at a waterfall area with massive angular rust colored boulders and water an unbelievable color of turquoise. It was later in the afternoon; the temperature was falling, so was the rain, and the wind was pushing the rain along. Back on the bikes, we began the ascent in earnest. When the bikes were on the inside lane, some of us were oblivious to the drop off that was becoming steeper and steeper. But don’t worry – there was a switchback and then you could see alllllll the way down to the bottom. As the rain got heavier, Henry felt the need to instruct Debbie in the finer points of bike passenger protocol. Hug tight, lean when and which way I lean. No problem Henry, except when he decides to get as close to the edge as possible and then Debbie leans the opposite way, towards the mountain, certain that by sheer will of leaning force, she will prevent that bike from going over the side of the mountain. Henry, curious to know just how high up he is, switches the Garmin to that mode. This did not help Debbie, knowing how long it would take to bounce off all those cliffs to the bottom. Also, she had been watching the miles click down to the meeting up with Shelley destination, making deals with Heavenly Father, ie “please let us get down safe, please, please, please.” So, now she has no idea how long she will be in peril. Or how many deals she will be making.
But hey, it wasn’t all harrowing – it was breathtaking, in a fantastic scenic sense of the word. Rugged, jagged mountains with glaciers, clouds hiding the summits. Around each turn of the road were new vistas that caused Henry to remark that “even the clouds and the rain could not hide the awesome beauty.” He was smiling all the way up and all the way down. We crossed the path of an avalanche from the past season, the “Wall of Tears” – a sheer rock face with soft cascades of snow melt, Haystack Waterfall – a very large, stair-stepped waterfall right next to the road. Periodically, the guys would pull off – TO THE VERY EDGE!!!!! – to take in the beauty (and make Debbie more nervous.) Back on the road, she’s watching Becky in front, who is continually looking over the edge and Debbie is thinking – inconceivably – “She’s not afraid!”
Near the summit, the road has eroded – yes, folks, that means gravity is winning and the road is falling in chunks down the mountain. But they still let you go up there. There are stoplights to regulate the flow either way. Also on these narrow one way passages, there are piles of road building equipment. And the roads are in pretty bad shape, patches over patches over patches, making for treacherous bike driving conditions. But the Three Amigos drove on, expertly, through the rain, wind and sleet.
Ah yes, the wind – at the summit, on our left going down the mountain – YES, WE ARE GOING DOWN! - we notice some trees leaning almost to the ground. Must be some wind. And then that wind hit us – all the way down. Also on the way down – a rainbow and the sun finally appearing as if Heavenly Father was giving us a sign that all was well.
The Tire Story
Due to the length restriction on the mountain, I (Shelley) drove the truck/trailer around to meet the group on the other side. Prior to separating at our gas stop, I had Harold check the tire pressure on the vehicles. Half way around the mountain, I looked in the side mirror to see tire tread flying off the trailer. I quickly pulled over. Knowing that the motorcycle gang wouldn’t hear their cell phones, I called Big Brother David for help. He told me slow down and drive on it until it blows out. I did that… I waited to see if 1 of 50 cars would stop and help…None did. David was my companion out in the middle of nowhere and I didn’t feel alone. I looked for the tire jack and couldn’t find it. David and I were trying to figure out how to change it without the jack. The trailer was too low to the ground to slide the tire underneath. David contacted nephew Ben to call me. (These guys are in Missouri and Iowa respectively…. I am on the upper edge of Montana...) Ben told me where the jack was. I couldn’t get it under because the trailer was so low due to the blow out. He had me jack up the front of the trailer and then put the jack on the front side of the blown tire. I was on my belly jacking the trailer up when “Dan from Bozeman” stopped to help me. He was kind to stop. He had passed me going one direction and came back after dropping his wife off. He helped make short order of finishing the tire change.
While he was helping me, Henry had received my text and was ready to come rescue me. I told him to wait for 5 minutes. Dan was in town for Bible Camp. I told him that I was his object lesson. I had prayed for someone to stop and he listened to the spirit and came back to help me. We are instruments in the Lord’s Hand if we stop and listen. Thanks David for being there for my phone call, keeping me calm, and accessing Ben. Thanks Ben for having a “visual” in your head of what I needed to do and walking me through it. Thanks Dan from Montana for listening and responding. Thanks Heavenly Father for answering prayers.
At the bottom of Glacier National Park when we all met up again, Harold gave us yet another song to base our day on “America the Beautiful” because there are no words to describe the mountains touching the clouds and the clouds bowing to the earth as if we were at the top of the world.
After our escapades of the day, we found a resting place with hot water and beds for all to sleep in at the Flamingo in Cardston, Alberta, Canada (because there was no room at the only inn in St. Mary.). We had made it across the border with lives in tact.
