Montana - Day 9 - Flathead Lake, Glacier National Park, Plains Indians at Browning

Sleeping Wolf Campground, Browning

Tuesday, 9 August 2022

I was glad we had an electric hookup at last night's state campground, because the temp probably got up to the 95° that was predicted.  It's hard to sleep when it's that warm, as all the folks down in Houston who don't have air conditioning are rediscovering every night these last couple of months.

We saw a couple of deer right by the road on our 2nd walk this morning.  Dext was certainly paying attention but didn't try to chase them - such a mature response.

today's route

As you can see from the map, all of the first part of today's drive was along the shore of Flathead Lake.  I stopped at a small pullout to take a photo.

Flathead Lake

This is a very winding road, luckily with a lot of pullouts, so I was able to move over for faster traffic more easily.  And I got my 2nd Montana thank you from a tanker.

The highway department (clearly people after my own heart) put up a sign that said, "Be Polite - Do Not Tailgate."

I could see haze on the west side of the lake, which I assumed came from the wildfire they were still fighting over there.

All along the road were fruit stands - especially cherry stands, which are grown in this area.  Back in the Missoula grocery store, I saw a big sign trumpeting "Flathead Cherries" and decided this must be something special akin to Copper River (Alaska) salmon.  I somehow managed to get through Door County in Wisconsin without buying any of their cherries and figured I shouldn't pass up this chance.

I stopped at Blue Bay Cherry Orchard and talked with the owner.  He had bowls of washed cherries set out for tasting, which I did (good cherries), and I asked him what was special about Flathead cherries.  He said, "Not a damn thing."  Then I told him about the Missoula store and he said, "They're lying."  He insisted the grocery stores ship cherries in from Washington state and that the Flathead cherries all go overseas.  It was an interesting conversation.  He was offering "sweet red" cherries at $12 for 3 pounds and "rainier" cherries at $18 for 3 pounds.  He wouldn't sell me a smaller quantity, though I knew I wouldn't be able to eat them all before they spoiled.  Because of that, I bought the cheaper ones, though I thought the others tasted better, but no sense throwing out more money than I have to.  He promised they'd keep in the frig for up to 3 weeks but was sure I'd've eaten them all in a couple of days.

You know those buttons pedestrians can push in a town that will activate flashing lights to let them cross a road more safely?  I saw one out here on this road for equestrians.

I crossed Swan River and came to the town of Swan Lake (yes, there's also a nearby lake named Swan).  They were gearing up for their annual Huckleberry Festival scheduled for this coming weekend.

The town had a 35 mph speed limit, which seemed reasonable, but I ended up with 18 vehicles stacked up behind me by the time I left town, all apparently champing at the bit to go much faster.  I know there were 18 because I counted them as they went past when I could find a place to pull over.

The town of Creston seems to be growing: I passed the "Future Home of Creston Fire Department" as well as a new house being built.

I passed large fields of a gold-colored grain, that I've been assuming is wheat, Montana being one of the top wheat-producing states in the country.

I passed Mennonite Church Road, which I assume got its name for a reason.

In Bad Rock, I saw a sign for "Groove Solventless" which was meaningless to me, so I looked it up.  It seems to be something related to products containing hashish or some such substance.  They're advertised as "promoting a healthy lifestyle."

A billboard said, "Don't Silence the Howl Forever - Relist Wolves."  I'd heard that Montana had passed laws allowing unlimited killing of wolves.  The result was more than 75 wolves being killed from the Yellowstone area alone just this last year, which some say could wipe out the gains made by conservation efforts to stabilize their populations.  The killing has been pushed by farmers and hunters (farmers want to protect their cows, hunters want to protect their game).  But conservationists say wolves are being used as a scapegoat and that the balance of nature is far more complex than that.  I'm assuming this billboard is referring to all this.

I passed, but didn't stop for, a historical marker titled "Bad Rock Canyon."  Now I've looked it up and can hardly believe what I see.  I can't decide which this text is more of: condescending, insulting or racist.  You can decide for yourself if you want.   https://www.hmdb.org/Bad-Rock-Canyon

At a pullout, I saw a mound of rocks and a sign that said "Shepard Memorial Fountain."  There was a pipe coming out of the rocks and out of the hillside, and I saw a guy filling up large water tanks.  Another sign said, "Not an approved water source.  Drink at your own risk."  Online I learned that it's a memorial to a Kalispell resident named Lion Don Shepard who was a pastor who wrote devotionals.  This spring is seen as a metaphor from the Bible about a constantly flowing spring.

I passed Hungry Horse Dam which, at 564' tall, was the 3rd largest and 2nd highest concrete dam in the world in 1953 when it was built.  Nearby is the town of Hungry Horse, "Biggest Dam Town in the West."

Beginning soon after the town of Coram, home of Glacier Distilling (small-batch whiskey), I came to a traffic backup.  It took me more than a half hour (I checked the clock) to travel less than 2 miles (I checked the mileage).  The backup turned out to be people wanting to turn into Glacier National Park.  Not until just before the turn did I see a sign saying that entrance to the park between 6 AM and 4 PM requires a reservation.  

Actually, I hadn't planned to go into the park.  I'd already done a little homework and learned that I wouldn't be allowed to travel over the Going-to-the-Sun Road, which is the one everybody raves about that crosses the park.  One section of it has geographic obstacles to my RV, and the Park Service prohibits: "vehicles over 21' long (including bumpers) or over 8' wide (including mirrors)."  Also, "rock overhangs may pose difficulties for vehicles over 10' tall."  So I lose on 2 counts because I'm 8' wide not including my mirrors and 11' tall including my air conditioner.  I could pull the mirrors in (and try to drive a mountain road half blind), but I really didn't want my AC scraped off the top of my RV by a rock.  Even if the park service would let me in, which they wouldn't.

So I'd already decided I'd stop at the visitor center and see what exhibits they had and get one of the sterling park service handouts for the park, and then take US 2 around the south side of the park.  The line at the entrance told me I wouldn't even be stopping at the visitor center, but I got lucky.  

In the adjacent town of West Glacier, I came to a tourist information center at the "Belton Historic Train Station," which looks exactly like you'd think something with that name would look.  The center was run by a conservation group that had copies of the official National Park Service brochure.  They gave me one and I heard them dispensing good travel advice to someone who was trying to figure out an alternate route to go in the park to see glaciers, but that didn't involve the traffic jam of the main route.  Nice people.

As I was leaving town, I passed the Belton Chalet, which actually looks like it's a chalet and looks like it's a "historic railroad hotel" as it calls itself.  I looked it up and it's all of that.  It was built more than 100 years ago by the Great Northern Railroad as the first of its lodges in the area.

For some reason, I was reminded of a John Steinbeck quote I ran across in Anaconda, of all places: 

"I'm in love with Montana.  For other states I have admiration, respect, recognition, even some affection.  But with Montana it is love.  And it's difficult to analyze love when you're in it."

This drive is certainly scenic, though I feel confident it's nothing compared to the mountain road through the glaciers.  Although I hear the glaciers here, like those everywhere else in the world, are melting at a precipitous rate (so if you're thinking of visiting here, you want to do it soon).  I was sorry to have missed the drive, but I'm luckier than most, having lived 4 miles from the Mendenhall Glacier in Juneau for about 12 years, and having traveled extensively through the southern half of Alaska during that time.  So I've seen my share of glacial beauty and missing this drive wasn't as crushing for me as it might be for others.  But I'm sure it's worth the trip here, and now you know to plan ahead for a reservation for your drive.

This is the best view I had of the park's mountains along the road I traveled.

This road runs immediately along the outer boundary of the park, and even inside the park for a short distance.  But you can see from this photo that the scenery out here is really different than on the other side of those hills.

I passed an area with several horse trailers, where people were strapping packs on horses' backs, apparently planning to do some equestrian exploration.

I came to Marias Pass, elev. 5,216', the Continental Divide again.  Not far away was the summit trailhead and a parking area with more horse trailers.

Driving through the Lewis and Clark National Forest, I came to the town of East Glacier Park, which is (unsurprisingly) by the road to the east entrance of Glacier National Park.

I could see behind me that I was exchanging big granite mountains for rolling hills, cows and crops.  And I passed a huge herd of bison.

My goal was the town of Browning and the Museum of the Plains Indian.  I was willing to pay the $5 entrance fee to get some information about the life of the tribes who live in the plains.  Unfortunately, I didn't get what I'd hoped for.  They wouldn't let me take photos, and my memory is so unreliable that, though I tried to process and retain the information I saw about travels of the tribes throughout the west, I just couldn't.  I don't know if I was always this way, but now I need time to process new facts and information.  By taking photos and mulling them over later, I'm able to do that.  At this museum, they didn't even have benches for me to sit on near the exhibits - only out in the lobby - so all I could do was see what they had.

They had some beautiful examples of clothing and items of everyday life, and explained how styles differed among the tribes and how they'd evolved over time.  But for what I'd hoped to learn when I went there, I had to leave emptyhanded.

Outside, though, I found a couple of points of interest that I could photograph.

Medicine Rock
see inscription below

And nearby was this odd installation.  My first thought was that a statue was supposed to have been here but had been removed.  But after taking a closer look, I decided what we see is what we're supposed to see.

At the base you can see a metal plaque commemorating the Indian Sign Language Conference in 1941.  I couldn't fit all of it into one photo and still be able to read it, so I've put two halves of the sign here in a more legible form.  I think it says the US Dept. of the Interior convened this conference to record the "ancient culture language" used by the Indian people of the plains for inter-tribal communication.  I'm guessing it was part of efforts made as a New Deal program to preserve many aspects of American life - music, art, language, memories - that I've run across in other parts of the country.  In September 1941, we hadn't entered WWII, and it was the war that ended the Great Depression.

All around the edge of the top surface of that memorial were footprints.  Mostly they were of actual feet, but there were 3 pairs (I think) that were wearing shoes (obviously the bureaucrats).  I took photos of a few that I thought had interesting names or interesting footprints.

 

The land here was like desert to me - very dry, scrubby grass and struggling bushes and trees.  I walked Dexter around a bit, but neither of us had our heart in it as the day had really heated up and there was nothing oasis-like about this area.

We went on to tonight's campground, which Google had given convoluted directions for that were entirely unnecessary.  The campground's own signs pointed me to a much simpler route.

This was an odd place, with water and electric hookups in a dozen sites.  The tent sites were out in an unmowed desert-like field and the bathrooms were down a short road and around a bend (I didn't bother to check them out).  But my site was level enough, there were other campers around so I felt safe, and with the plug-in, that's all I need.