Avalanches, Cattle, and Bears, Oh My!

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

– Mark Twain

So I guess I have a little bit of catching up to do on writing here.  The lack of Internet and cell phone coverage is one of the minor drawbacks of camping, I suppose. 

Last I left it, I had spent Thursday evening with Alex and BJ, Mortie and Mabel, and Amy and Kathy.  On Friday morning, we wished each other well and headed on our respective ways:  Alex and BJ were heading to California, Amy had to start work managing a hotel just outside of Glacier for the season, Kathy was headed back to her home in Idaho, and Mortie and Mabel were off to find a Wal-Mart so they didn’t have to pay for another night of camping.  And me, I headed out to go for a ride on the Going To The Sun Road, which is the major route through Glacier Park. 

The Going To The Sun Road was only open to cars for the first 14 miles, and after that there was about 7 ½ miles that were open just to non-motorized traffic.  Beyond that, it was totally closed for plowing and repairs.   I packed up my van and drove alongside Lake McDonald and McDonald Creek until I got to the portion where the barriers were up and no cars were allowed to pass.  There were only about two dozen or so parking spots available, and they were all occupied.  I was a little surprised because the park had been pretty empty the past couple days.  I think that every single person in the park must have been there with me at the closed-off section of road.  Not finding an available parking space, I backtracked about a mile until I found a place to park alongside the road, got out of my van, and got set to go for a ride.  The weather was a little ambiguous:  the temperature gauge on my dashboard had said it was about 50° out, and the sky was mostly clear and sunny.  I decided to put on a couple of layers as well as my long pants since 50° was still a bit cooler than my California thermometer was accustomed to.  

Red rocks and green water - like Christmas!

As I started riding, I could hear loud whistles emanating from the trees every twenty or thirty seconds.  I assumed that it was groups of hikers trying to be noisy to either scare the bears away or to annoy them to the point of foraging for food somewhere else.   There are several little signs and brochures around Glacier Park indicating that you need to be noisy when you hike to prevent inadvertently startling bears or other wild life.  It instructs hikers that wearing bells on their shoes is not enough, and that every so often you should yell, clap, or whistle loudly to announce your presence.  And everyone seemed to be following those rules.  I thought to myself that if I had written the brochure, I would have had a lot more fun with it:  I would have indicated that the best thing to do would be to sing show tunes loudly, or to try to make roaring sounds like a lion because bears are naturally afraid of lions.  That would be kind of cool to hear show tunes and lion sounds rising up from the trees, rather than just whistles.   But, unfortunately, I was never consulted on the actual text of the warnings and brochures.

For the first several miles after the car blockade, Going To The Sun Road was relatively flat and went alongside McDonald Creek, through a valley between very tall mountainous peaks.  The water in the creek was a vivid translucent green, and the bottom was speckled with red stones. In fact, I’ve noticed that many of the rocks and stones in Montana are red. I’m not quite sure why that is, and I’ve asked several people and no one seems to know.  But the combination of the red stones and the green water and trees made it look very Christmasy.   The mountains along the sides of the valley were dizzyingly tall. I had to crane my head back and tip my chin skyward to even bring the tops of them into my field of view. 

Snow on one side of the road, but not on the other.

Looking up at those broad mountains with waterfalls and avalanche valleys gushing down their sides not only made me feel a bit of vertigo, but also made me feel quite small in their presence as well.  On one side of the road, the sides of the peaks were in the shadow of the sun and they were crested with snow; on the other side of the road the mountains were painted with sunlight, and were barren of any white snowy spots.  Random bunches of trees stood up like scratchy whiskers in rough patches between the granite on the sunny side and the snow on the shady side.   As I cycled even further down the road, the sun got a bit higher and a bit warmer, yet the breeze blowing down from the high peaks was still quite cold.  I alternated between cursing myself when I was in the sun for being so wimpy as to put on the long pants and extra layers, and complimenting myself when I was in the shade or when the cold wind was blowing for being so smart to put on extra layers.  It was a constant back-and-forth of having my body feel too warm and my nose and ears feel too cold. 

After about 5 miles, the road started to climb sharply for about 2 ½ miles.  It took me up the side of the mountain, and I could see more and more waterfalls running along the side as the sun was melting the ice and snow that remained near the tops of the peaks.  At several points, there were rocks and small boulders in the road—the result of small avalanches that had happened, and in some places it even appeared as if the sides of the mountain themselves were encroaching into the road leaving very little room for cars (hence why the road was closed to auto traffic I suppose).

Those rocks fell as I was standing in the tunnel

Near the top, there was a very spooky looking tunnel that looked like it was in a severe state of disrepair.  Water was dripping down in a nearly constant stream from the ceiling on the inside; rocks were falling along the sides (at one point as I was inside of it taking pictures, several small boulders came smashing down onto the road just outside the entrance); a waterfall was gushing past the opening of it—it definitely did not look like it was traffic-ready. 

After passing through the scary tunnel, I could only go about another quarter mile before the road was closed for good.  There were signs warning that anyone caught beyond that point would be prosecuted and would face federal charges.  I certainly didn’t want any of that, so I turned around and went back down the mountain to my van. 

Instead of spending another night in Glacier, I decided to spend a night at Flathead Lake, which is a large freshwater lake about an hour away from Glacier Park.  It gave me a little jump on my trip to my next destination, Yellowstone, and also had showers, Internet and cellular service available (I’m kind of a sissy camper).  While I was at Flathead Lake, I did a little research online and found out that only two campgrounds are currently open in Yellowstone.  Madison Campground is the one that is closer to Old Faithful, so that is where I plan to stop next.

This morning I left Flathead Lake and took a scenic route to Paradise Valley, which is about 2 hours away from Madison Campground.  I’ve been trying to take the “long way” between each of my destinations, avoiding the major highways. 

They really gotta clear the road here....

I’ve found that the smaller scenic routes actually burn the driving time much faster, as they provide much more to look at.  For about 100 miles of this trip I went along Highway 83, which is a 2-lane road that went past what seemed like 200 lakes and maybe only 5 houses.  During the entire 100 miles of Highway 83, I saw more cows in the road than I did cars.  At one point, I came upon a lady standing in the middle of the highway waving a red flag.  Just on the other side of her, there were about 4 cowboys on horses herding what must have been a hundred cattle down the road. I’ve seen the “cattle crossing” signs before, but I’ve never actually had to stop in the middle of a highway for actual cows.  It was really a unique experience for me.  Several miles past the cows, just outside of Bozeman, a large sign on the side Highway 90 shouted out that just ahead was the Montana Grizzly Encounter.  It had a picture of a ferocious looking grizzly bear and promised the ability to see grizzly bears outside of a cage.  My first instinct was to pass it on by, knowing that it was just one of those tourist-trap places.  But then I figured I might get a good story or two out of it and if I didn’t stop, I’d regret it later.  So I exited the highway about 4 miles ahead and pulled into the Grizzly Encounter.  It cost $7 to go in, which I figured was less than I paid to see the lame Air Museum in Tillamook, so it sounded like a bargain to me. 

Traffic on a Montana Highway

The lady at the ticket counter explained that they rescue their bears from individuals or organizations that either have them illegally or who can no longer care for them.  She said two bears were in the viewing area today: a large male and his smaller sister.  I paid my $7, parked my van, and went to go check them out.   Other than the bears, there really wasn’t much there.  There was a good-sized enclosure with a little pond and some rocks and trees, and two bears roaming around inside of it.   They romped in the water and walked around, ignoring me and the four or five other people that were there, but they were still interesting to see.  They had several signs that provided information on what to do if you encounter a grizzly in the wild, and many references to bear spray.  They also had a gift shop that had several grizzly-themed items such as t-shirts, stuffed animals, post cards, photographs, and strangely enough they also sold canisters of bear spray.  I briefly thought of buying a canister of the spray and testing it out on the grizzlies that were right there to see if it really worked. It would give me a great story to tell, but of course I didn’t act on those thoughts.  In the end, I took a pictures of the bears and texted them to a few people, telling them that I had come across a cute little bear on a hike and that I was going to try to pet it.  (Thank you LJ for being gullible and slightly panicking for me!)  So yah, I’m glad I stopped after all.

And now tonight I’m staying at a KOA in Paradise Valley.  Tomorrow morning I plan to get up and drive the last 2 hours into Yellowstone.  I’m hoping that I don’t run into any cattle on the road along the way, and that I don’t run into any grizzly bears in the park since I neglected to buy my bear spray.  I’m sure along the way though I’ll find something to tell a story about.

They wouldn't let me try the bear spray on him.