Yaak River

We had billed this trip as follow the turning-color-Aspen. So far it has turned into follow the turning-color-Larch instead. We had no idea! Larch fill many of the forests we've traveled, setting them on fall fire. The Aspen have mostly already turned and dropped their leaves, although we still might catch up with them as we head south down Idaho's panhandle on Highway 95, beginning tomorrow. But today it is Larch...again...and we are sooooo smitten!

The most westerly northern highway in Montana, Highway 92, from Koocanusa Lake looked so enticing when we were there a few days ago, we returned to Koocanusa Bridge and headed northwest toward the little town of Yaak River. Today's drive surpassed the fall beauty of my Larch Glory posting although I thought that would not be possible. The road itself is a delight too and highly recommended for motorcycle enthusiasts. It was narrow and full of curves with almost no traffic (we passed only one other car), although we did need to navigate a downed tree or two, several miles of snow, and white tail deer by the dozens. We clearly rate this road a 10+ in an automobile. On a cycle it would be off the scale.

When we arrived at Yaak River we simply had to have a beer in the town tavern. It looked like the place-to-be in this town. Food, declared excellent by the Mercantile clerk, was actually horrid, but the beer was cold and the small town hangout factor was high. Music was hard rock but only modestly loud. Clientele interesting. Perfect end of the day TGIF stop after a day on the road.

The gas station...

The rest of the town...all of it! Two hundred people in the winter, four hundred in the summer...

~~~

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower."

~ Albert Camus

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Goodbye Dear Friend

"... Kord died last night, after his severe illness of two years. He was surrounded by his family, in candlelight with Mozart playing, as he drew his last breath. All in keeping with who he was." ~ Ursula

This big gentle bear of a man delivered mighty hugs of love...all engulfing, all kindness, and greatly sought after. I will deeply miss Kord's gentle strength, his deeply probing mind, and his far-reaching curiosity. He was a man who loved his family above all else, and who welcomed friends into his family with a rare generosity. I am lucky and grateful to have know this fine man.

Our Larch-wonderful journey continues as we travel the furthest north-west road in Montana. Kord and these beautiful, peaceful scenes will forever be tangled together in my mind. Rest in Peace dear Kord.

~~~

"Love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone."

~ Mitch Albom

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Quirky Thinking

Rain, rain, go away

Come again another day!

What kind of quirky thinking were we engaged in? Why did we think rain only happens in the Pacific Northwest in the fall? Where were our brains to engage in the idea that once east of the Cascades it would be cold, but sunny and bright? Every. Single. Day!

We left Langley on the 10th of October in bright sunshine which lasted for two days. Since then, and it is now the 20th, we have had occasional, and I might add, stunningly beautiful, clear skies, but mostly clouds and wind, accompanied with rain, sleet, hail and occasional snow flakes.

Last night we went to bed with stars shining brightly through our skylight. Both Ed and I engaged in fantasies of clear skies come morning complete with awesome views. Visions of hiking on our minds. And guess what morning brought? Yep, rain!

It's not that we are immune to hiking in the rain it's just that the views disappear and the beautiful fall leaves turn to mush underfoot. Along with reduction of the visual delights, the physical become challenging as well. Rain gear is only reliable up to a point, and then...wet seeps in! Once that happens the remainder of the day is spent watching clothes go round and round at the laundromat.

So, another cup of coffee.

Then it stopped raining and we took a walk...

And then it started raining again, and we drove to Whitefish.

We are staying in Whitefish with Steve and Meg, our sometimes Langley neighbors...bless them. Showers, Internet, washer and dryer and great hospitality.

~~~

"The storm starts, when the drops start dropping

When the drops stop dropping then the storm starts stopping."

~ Dr. Seuss

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Larch Glory

~~~

"Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?"

~ Hal Borland

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The Crack Between the Crowds and the Snow

The Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park, a World Heritage Site, is a coming-together-place. A convergence of ecosystems from all four directions on one narrow crown and the shared boundaries of the Blackfeet people, Canadians, and Americans. I find it fascinating to think that at Triple Divide Peak a hiker can tip her hat to direct rain to the Columbia, Mississippi or Saskatchewan river systems. These rivers flow to the Pacific Ocean, Gulf of Mexico and northeast to Hudson Bay.

Temperatures are hovering between the mid 30's and mid 40's. Rain and sleet hit our windshield as we drive and wind rocks Thistle at night. When we get a peek through the clouds we see fresh snow up on the jagged cliffs. Going-to-the-Sun-Road is closed for the winter. On our first night at Glacier we enter the park at the west entrance and camp at Apgar.

The next day we drive to East Glacier, St. Mary and Many Glacier. We joke about seeing Glacier Park as if we're viewing it from inside a glass of milk.

Winter travel and winter camping have no limitations imposed by crowds, only by nature. Here at Many Glacier we share the campground with only a handful of other campers. There are also a number of maintenance folks working to squeeze repairs into the crack between the crowds and the snow. We spent the last light of the evening watching moose TV as a cow moose wandered around camp eating snow berries and seemingly finding nutrition from leafless shrubs. She would grab a bare branch low down and then slid her mouth up the branch taking off what she could.

                       

This morning our walk was brisk, but partially clear with the mountains showing off from time-to-time. High on the bluff, too far away for photographs, we see several herds of both Mountain Goat and Big Horned Sheep. Where the heck are the darn bear?

Later in the day, driving back to East Glacier the views were stunning.

                        

This building's boarded-up look is what we're seeing at all the buildings along our route. The preparation for winter is thorough. Water is turned off, windows are boarded up, and snow poles are in place along the roadways.

At camp tonight we see our first bull moose and another cow. On our evening walk we bask in Two Medicine Lake views.

This morning it is beginning to snow.

We find ourselves grateful to be engrossed in beautiful surroundings and far removed from political ugliness. Early voting has allowed us to be immersed in our nation's splendor instead of election angst. 

~~~

"Autumn...the year's last, loveliest smile."

~ William Cullen Bryant

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