Time to say goodbye to Glacier National Park.
If you’ve been keeping up with this blog, you’ve
noted that, more than a few times, I’ve mentioned that certain of the park’s
attractions were inaccessible. And you may be wondering if
we thought our trip to G.N.P was worth it – after all, we didn’t even get to
see a glacier!
Was it worth it?
Absolutely.
We came at the time of year that we could come.
Going later, when more things were likely to be open, was not an option for us.
So: See part of Glacier? or See none of Glacier? For me personally, every “trade”
we made worked in my favor. Because Glacier’s “season” is so short – “best” months
to go are July, August, and September – the crowds are thick at those peak
times. I don’t like crowds and I don’t like a lot of chatter, especially loud
chatter, when I’m out in the woods. Henry, my little Protector-Dog, can get
stressed in crowds. (Plus, it’s harder to push the limits on pet restrictions
when there are a lot of people.) Does all the talking and laughing help to ward
off potentially unpleasant run-ins with bear or moose? Yeah, undoubtedly. But
do you think we’d have had yesterday’s encounter with the doe under those
circumstances? Doubtful; she seemed completely unafraid of us, not least
because we were quiet.
The major thing we missed out on was, of
course, the Going-To-The-Sun Road. Everybody talks about it, and I’m sure
friends who’ve traveled it will feel some disappointment on our behalf. But don’t
cry for me! At the end of the day, it’s a pretty drive – OK, a spectacularly
beautiful drive, I’m told – but I sort of relished in the spirit of adventure
in visiting a wild place in ice and snow and sleet, and seeing hardly another
soul who’s similarly willing to brave the elements. Some of my pictures look
cold and foggy – exactly what we were seeing and experiencing.
As to the glaciers themselves, I am sorry not
to have seen even one. But I did see evidence of where they’d once been, and it’s
fascinating to see how they carved out this unique, and uniquely beautiful,
landscape.
I’m sorry to be leaving it all behind, and I
wouldn’t trade one minute of the time we spent there. I’ll go again, one day,
and maybe next time it’ll be at a time when more stuff can be seen. It’ll be
beautiful, for sure. But probably not one bit more enjoyable than this trip.
So. This morning. Packing the car and cleaning
the cabin. Preparing to ride for hours in the car. And an international border
crossing – what would that be like?
On the way north, we first turned south to go
back into St. Mary for fuel. (When you don’t know what’s on the road ahead, it’s
always a little more reassuring to have a full tank of gas.) To our delight, we
saw that the Park Café was open! Although they’d posted that they’d be open as
of early June, we’d seen no sign of anyone there until today. After filling the
car with fuel, we filled our bodies with fuel also: Specifically, we split a
bowl of Triple Divide Bison Chili (named for nearby Triple Divide Peak, which has
the rare distinction that waters flowing off its summit go in three different
directions: the Atlantic, the Pacific, and Hudson Bay) and each ordered a slice
of huckleberry pie. But we didn’t get huckleberry pie! Our server gave us
Grizz-Beary pie instead. Happy Accident! “The Grizz” was even more wonderful
than yesterday’s huckleberry pie, because it’s made of three different seasonal
berries: blueberries, blackberries, and huckleberries. Yum!
On toward Canada. Instead of making a beeline
for Calgary, we traveled just a little ways north of the road to Many Glacier,
to turn back into G.N.P. and make our border crossing where Glacier and
Waterton Lakes share a border and form the world’s first International Peace
Park.
I’ll admit to being a little nervous about the
crossing. Although I’ve crossed borders before, I’d always done so by air or ferry or train, never by car, consequently never by a car I was driving, and never with
a dog. In addition to my own passport I had all of Henry’s vaccination papers ready, and was also prepared to
surrender his dog food, as I’d read somewhere that (curiously) Canada won’t
allow you to bring an opened bag of dog food into the country.
Henry made not a peep as we pulled up to the
window. The customs agent did not ask about a dog, and I’ve learned when
dealing with guards, police, and the like never to start asking questions or
volunteer information. (Hard for me to do, for sure.) In fact, the only
exchange we had with the agent, after handing him the requested passports, was
answering his question as to “Why are you coming to Canada?” (Don’t be a smart
aleck, don’t be a smart aleck, he’s not going to understand your sense of
humor, don’t do it, just answer the question.) “Oh, sightseeing,” seemed a safe
enough answer.
“Sightseeing where?” was his reply. “Uh, well,
Calgary and Banff and Regina,” I said.
He shot back with, “Why on earth would anybody
go to Regina?” Taken aback, I may have finally nervously laughed. I dunno why
Regina, except that it was on the way home and seemed like a good stopover. But
satisfied, he waved us through and said have a good time.
Our first stop was an overlook facing toward
Waterton Lakes. From that vantage point, the mountains look like a watercolor
painting.
Then we headed into Waterton Lakes National
Park and took a spin through the town of Waterton but saw precious little else;
like Glacier, they’re still clearing snow from the higher passes and this park
had ‘way more parts still inaccessible than Glacier.
Three and a half more hours to Calgary, along
some of the most un-interesting road imaginable. (No offense to anyone who
lives along the route, of course.) Until we spied this sign.
Unfortunately, we were too late in arriving to
visit the site, but once I explain what this is about, you’ll see we probably
didn’t really miss anything terribly dramatic. Apparently, this area was known
as “Head Smashed-In” for many, many years. Legend had it that a young man had
gone to the base of a cliff, to see the bison fall as they were driven off the
cliff by his tribe’s hunters. Unfortunately, one of the bison landed on him and
when the tribe went to collect the remains of their “hunt,” they discovered the
young man with … wait for it … his head smashed in. The legend has been “proved,”
for the most part, by the discovery of archaeological evidence that the
indigenous people of that area did indeed hunt bison by chasing their prey and
driving them to jump off a cliff.
Couple more hours of driving, and now we’re
safely in Calgary, at this funky boutique hotel located right on the
Trans-Canada Highway. Calgary seems like a nice city, which we’ll explore more
tomorrow. Or soon. Because tomorrow we’ll head out to Banff.
More photos from the Forces of Nature Tour at Flickr.
Click here.
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