The road trip, it was safe to say, was not quite going as planned. It was slow going on Highway 89 with its curves and cows so many fatality crosses on the road that I lost count. Then Highway 49 turned out to be the most nerve wracking thing I have ever done. The town of St. Mary's had been all but closed up. And when I finally reached the park gates of East Glacier....the park was closed for the season. The famous "Going to the Sun Road" was closed both seasonally and for repairs, and the only option was to carry on south and around the mountains to try to enter through the West Park Gates....or go back, but that was certainly not an option for me and Highway 49. And so onward we went....it was only another 100km on mountain roads.
I passed the Two Medicines area, one of the parks popular areas, but nothing caught my eye from the road, and the knee is still not in hiking condition after that little dog-scooter surprise in Bermuda (new readers fear not, the dog is fine. me not so much). So I kept going and reached the West Glacier park gate around 4pm. It was quaint, with original buildings, but a bit like a ghost town. So I kept going.
I pulled off at the roadside to find a trail head. I found the standard bear warning signs, but there were to be no bear sightings on this trip.
What did catch me off guard though was this giant stone pillar in the middle of the park. In Canada, development is kept to a minimum outside of the town sites within the park. But there are several monuments along the road in American parks. This one is a Roosevelt Memorial. He did work with the national parks, so it is fitting I guess.
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| The Roosevelt Memorial |
And so I followed the little red road. I was thinking of driving as far as Meadow Lake Resort and having a relaxing early evening there, wanting to be off the roads before dark. But it was still a ways away.
At least in West Glacier, there were living trees, unlike poor fire ravaged East Glacier.
These two horses came trotting up to say hello when I pulled over to take pics of the fall colors.
One other difference between parks in Canada and the US is that in Canada, they build roadside turnouts at vistas and places you would want to take a picture. The placement of roadside turnouts in the US appears to be more frequent, and much more random. Time and time again I pulled over and realized there was nothing to see. And whenever there was a stunning site along the road, there was usually no place to safely stop to take a photo. But once in a while it worked out. I stopped at this river valley, and just as i thought "wouldn't it be cool if a train were going through," a train rounded the corner like a metal serpent.
At West Glacier, I was surprised to see this Canadian tourist center. This little piece of Canada is 232 km into the US. Presumably this is because Waterton Park in Canada and Glacier Park in the US are a continuous park that crosses the US-Canada border.
Almost everything in West Glacier was closed. There was no one in site, except at the little tourist shop that let me buy a postcard before closing up. The "Going to the Sun" Road was open until Logan pass, so I asked about the road conditions -- they looked at me in shock and asked if I was going to drive it alone. I said yes, but that I had not enjoyed Highway 49 and didn't want to be on similar roads. Again they looked at me in shock and asked if I drove Highway 49 alone. I said yes. I can't quite figure out why it seemed more perilous alone than with 2 people....perhaps one person could dial 911 while the driver slides over the cliff? Anyway, they said Highway 49 is a "mini Logan pass", which did not sound like fun as the sun was fading. I headed out that way anyway, but hit construction 6 km in, and turned around at MacDonald Lake, another area ravaged by forest fires an not very photogenic on this day. Onward to Meadow Lake I decided.
Reflecting on the disappointments of the day (an adventure has not had so many setbacks since the day Siobhan and I were wading through Bermuda swamps), I noted a road sign announcing the next town, "Hungry Horse Reservation." Good Lord, I thought, that sounds like the most unhappy place on earth. This day just keeps getting better. I looked down at the gas tank and thought at least I won't be forced to stop in a place named after animal misfortune.
Just before Hungry Horse, I saw a jumble of wooden structures and a large billboard advertising "The Amazing Fun Center." The Amazing Fun Center. It kind of made me laugh, as I pictured my American friend Simon who could typically be expected to name a business something like this one day. I can picture it "The AMAZING Fun center, who wouldn't want to go there? Fun center is too boring, but an amazing fun center is worth the money." Turns out the Amazing Fun Center is North America's largest wooden maze for people, plus has mini golf, bumper cars, and more. It might really be amazing and fun.
Just down the road, I entered the town of Hungry Horse, and I couldn't help but smile. It was an eclectic little place. First off, the local bar was named "Dam Town Tavern", after the nearby Hungry Horse Reservoir. I can just see all the escapades blamed on that "Dam Town Tavern" by angry local housewives.
Then of course was a trading post called "Fort Hungry Horse," which looked like a mini amusement park itself. It was sadly closed or I would have definitely gone inside. The red cartoon horse with ribs sticking out is like a town logo.
And just outside of Hungry Horse I encountered the "House of Mystery," proclaiming fun for all. I was curious, but decided to carry on. Had the House of Mystery been as descriptive as the Amazing Fun Center, I would have gone in, because it turns out it is an anomaly, a natural vortex, a sacred place where gravity and electromagnetic principles are altered...now if that were on the sign I would have stopped in to see it myself. Next time I guess. If any readers have ever been here, post a comment saying what you thought of it please :)
And so it was Hungry Horse where the trip got a little more interesting, and I started enjoying the day a bit more. Sometimes it's the most unlikely of places that give inspiration.
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