Whoever is the first person to identify the good looking young man on the right side of the photograph I will be happy buy him or her a beer. The second person to name the person will have to buy me a beer. Be quick or be sorry.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
And so it ends
How does 7,673 miles grab you sports fans? Add our trip to San Francisco last year and we have now driven more than two thirds of the way around the globe. Man does my recliner look good. Learned a lot, lost five pounds, ate like a pig but no beer for the entire trip. I guess riding in a car increases your metabolism cause it damned sure can't be that beer puts weight on me. I rediscovered that most of our fellow citizens are first class. We found people to be friendly, outgoing and eager to share their experiences. As an example, I asked directions in a small business in Kalispell, Montana, the lady did not know of the shop I wanted to visit but left her own business wide-open, with no one in the store and walked down the street with me to her friend's shop. Her friend also could not answer my question. However she went on-line, found the answer and insisted I use her telephone to call and verify the hours of the place we were looking for. That sort of reception was the rule throughout our trip. We checked into our cabin, stayed four days and checked out and never saw the owners or staff. When we arrived the cabin was left open with the key on the table. While we were out sightseeing, the cabin was cleaned and when we left the owner called and thanked us for leaving him a message about how much we had enjoyed our stay. I asked a ranger in a state park in Montana about me having a loaded gun in the car. She replied, Montana trusts our citizens and visitors." She continued that the Governor and Legislature had taken step to ensure that no matter what Obama and Washington did nothing would change the gun laws in Montana. I think, to some degree, I have assuaged some of my fears about the country moving too far left, too fast. There is a quiet but firm resolve in the folks we talked to that some fundamental things are not going to change. In my opinion, Washington will make a grave error if they underestimate how deeply people feel about what they view as basic freedoms. But hey, I have been wrong before.
A long drive home, from Rocky Mountain National, thru Denver, to Amarillo and the next day to Memphis for our last night in a hotel. From Memphis to Gainesville was about eleven hours. Other than about sixty miles of severe thunderstorms from Raton New, Mexico to Dalhart, Texas we had a good trip. Jeannie drove thru the thunderstorms as I whimpered "we are going to die," however I will have you know it was very manly whimpering. Jeannie says I was not whimpering that I was shouting "We are off the road. all is lost, tell my children I love them." I think that is somewhat of an exaggeration but not a flat out lie. Manly whimpering I say, with an occasional high pitched shriek.
Some of the posts were delayed because of computer problems. Eventually, I was down to typing "WORD" documents onto discs in the evenings and then going to the hotel lobby and copying them into the blog the following morning. But, with a lot of help we got it done.
Thanks to all of you for reading this and putting up with countless misspellings, fragmented sentences and semi literate attempts at self expression. Some of it may have been unwelcome editorializing, self aggrandizement and pompous overstatement. I certainly hope so. It was a lot of fun and your feedback was wonderful. Larry and Jeannie, our trip is done, we are home and I hope to see all of you soon.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Rocky Mountain High
We drove from the Grand Tetons to Loveland, Colorado. The City of Loveland is just west of I-25 about 45 miles north of Denver. Rocky Mountain National Park is thirty five miles west of Loveland. Around Valentines Day, and on some folk's wedding anniversaries, Loveland gets a lot of cards asking that they be post stamped as being from Loveland. I guess that is a romantic gesture, personally I don't get it. Could be that is why I have never gotten a lot of cards.
We got an early start and drove over to Estes Park, Colorado. Just on the outskirts of Estes Park sits the Stanley Hotel. Two remarkable things about the hotel; First it was built by the same fellow that produced the Stanley Steamer automobile and second, it was the hotel featured in the Jack Nicholson Horror movie "The Shining." The hotel is a large, white impressive looking structure with several outbuildings, pools and fountains. It seems to radiates luxury and old money. The hotel was obviously intended for the very well to do crowd. The Stanley Steamer was an interesting vehicle. The car would climb any of the mountain roads in the area and had a top speed of 45 mph. It ran on steam and produced no pollution. One model of the car set a land speed record of 127 mph. Makes one wonder why they ever abandoned the concept.
I lived in Colorado for a few years. My home was less than fifty miles from the national park, so every time relatives or friends visited we brought them to the park. I have probably been through the park a dozen or more times. I tell you this only because after having visited five national parks in the past three weeks, I almost asked Jeannie to skip this one. To miss it would have been a mistake, Rocky Mountain National was her favorite.
We entered the park through the East Gate. Trail Ridge road runs through the park from the town of Estes Park to Grand Lake, Colorado. It is a distance of about 40 miles. It has the distinction of being the highest road in America. About five miles of the road is above 12,187 feet. That is well above the timber line and gives you the opportunity to see a pristine alpine environment. Unless one is an accomplished mountain climber, there is no other way to see animals and plants that live so high up. The road is snowed under for about eight months each year. The park ranger said that at the higher elevations on the road, winter winds of 150 mph and temperatures of 50 below zero are not uncommon.
Unlike most of the Rockies, Big Horn Mountain Sheep and Mountain Goats routinely come down to lower elevations and even cross the roads. There are not a lot of places that provide an opportunity to photograph either species. Rocky Mountain National Park also has a large population of Elk. When I lived in Colorado, we used to come up in the Fall and listen to males "Bugle" to attract their mates. On this visit Jeannie and I were fortunate to see a large male complete with a "double shovel rack" and a harem consisting of a dozen or so females. On the periphery of the herd was a young male looking longingly at the females. After sizing up the size and rack on the older male, the young suitor wisely kept his distance. We will post pictures of the herd and the two males.
We picked a good day to see the park. The clouds were few so we could see most of the mountain tops. There are several peaks of more than 14,000 feet. One of the more spectacular is Longs Peak. We had a wonderful unobstructed view of the mountain made even more dramatic by having some of the lower ridges obscured by low lying clouds. The summit appeared to rest upon lower cumulus cloud formations.
We saw a wonderful ice blue pool in the middle of a snow field, unfortunately the pictures did not capture the beautiful color of the water. There are boardwalks out onto the tundra. Some of the plants at that altitude take twenty years to grow an inch, so a careless misstep can instantly erase two decades of growth. You could spend months in the park and still see only a small fraction of what is available. There are numerous trails for both the fit and adventurous and for the not so fit and sedentary. Wildflowers are everywhere, one extraordinarily beautiful variety is the "Indian Paintbrush." I am still amazed how something so fragile can thrive in such a harsh climate. While stopped an informational kiosk, we met a park ranger who had received his Masters from the University of Florida. He had seen our UF car tag and talked with us a while about the Gators and also filled us in on some of the lesser know aspects of the park. Throughout our trip we have found all of the rangers to be friendly and knowledgeable. One fellow commented to us that people visiting natural attractions like parks or forests tend to be better read and more curious than the general public. I think that for our part, Jeannie and I have reinforced our belief that some things like these lands are sacred and must be preserved. I hope they are here for our grandchildren's grandchildren. All in all, Rocky Mountain National Park was a perfect exclamation point for our entire trip.
Because we lingered so long in the park we faced a long drive to Amarillo. Like George Strait sings we made "Amarillo by Morning" but it was 2:30 in the morning and man am I tired. I will copy this and pictures to the blog tomorrow. Tonight the bed is calling. Be safe, more tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The Grand Tetons and Backsliding Gators
Leaving Yellowstone you make a turn for Jackson, Wyoming and out the right window of your car looms the Grand Teton Mountain Range. What does Grand Teton mean you ask? Well, think Dolly Parton. Here is a hint, it is not her blond hair. The Tetons are among the newest peaks on the North American Continent. Following a huge volcanic eruption they were formed and located along the edge of a giant crater. The floor of the crater collapsed thus forming Jackson Hole Basin. The town is Jackson, the valley is Jackson Hole. If you forget, don't worry a local resident will correct you every time you mistakenly call the town Jackson Hole. Unlike most mountains the Grand Tetons have no foothills. Instead of a gentle rise in elevation and gradually more rolling terrain, with the Tetons there is none of that. There is flat land, and then suddenly there they are, a range of ten thousand foot mountains. The bases of the mountains are dark, higher up there are large snow field and glaciers lie between the peaks. Because the mountains are relatively young they are jagged and more rugged than other parts of the Rockies. Directly in front of the mountains is a river and large lake. On a calm clear day the mountains are perfectly reflected in the water. You literally cannot tell where the mountains end and the reflection begins. The Grand Tetons have more glaciers than any other location in the contiguous forty eight states including Glacier National Park. As you drive toward Jackson from Yellowstone the mountains are on your right and the National Elk range is off to your left. To say the drive is scenic is an understatement.
The town plaza in Jackson has four entryways. All four are framed by arches constructed entirely of elk antlers. The arches have existed for more than seventy five years and are a hallmark of the community. PETA, one of the more zealous of the animal rights groups, suggested the City remove the arches and replace them with something more fitting. Maybe with Spotted Owl feathers and an aquarium filled with Snail Darters, I don't know. In any event the good City Fathers suggested that PETA get the hell out of Jackson. Negotiations are not ongoing.
There was a lot of road construction in the park. All of the roads freeze during the winter. As a result you have frost heaves and potholes. Along one particular stretch they had completely torn up the pavement for resurfacing. It was one of those deals where North bound traffic is led through by a "follow me" vehicle. Then a like number of South bound cars are led in the opposite direction. It was a slow frustrating process, there was a lot of dust, we were out of range of radio stations so Jeannie and I were left with no option but to talk to each other. That is when fate intervened.
Directly behind us in line was one of those high topped camper vans. Through my side mirror I saw a man exit the van and start walking toward my car. I turned to Jeannie but she had already opened the pocket of the car, unzipped the holster and placed the automatic under a newspaper by my right hand. Some women are just too precious for words, nothing like being prepared. It was all for naught, as soon as I looked at the man, I saw a distressed soul. He said, in the saddest voice anyone has ever heard, "Sir, I saw your University of Florida License plate". he paused and his eyes fell on Jeannie's Gator tee shirt. She was wearing the one proclaiming Florida as the "National Football Champions and King of all College Sports." He turned to the lady in the van and yelled "My God! Esmerelda she is even wearing a Gator shirt." I immediately recognized the situation. I was dealing with a former Gator who was in mortal danger of backsliding. He had been too long away from the warm and welcoming campfires of fellow Gators. Even worse, this poor, lost man was only days away from becoming a possible Bobby Bowden convert. I had to act fast. I immediately exited my vehicle and said "Son, I am a Gator Ranger I have been sent out by the Great White Father in Gainesville to seek poor unfortunates such as yourself and bring you back into the folds of the Gator Nation. The man began to weep, he said "Oh Gator Ranger if only you could". I said, "I can brother, before another minute passes I can have you back among the Orange and Blue faithful singing "We are the Boys From Old Florida". The look of hope that spread over the man's face was indescribable. I explained that Albert, the Great Gator who rules all of college sports, had anointed me to make special dispensation for wayward Gators if they would repent. I'm telling you folks you had to see the joy on the countenance of this prodigal Gator at the thought of coming home to the bosom of his Alma Mater. Why it was inspirational to this old Gator's heart. After asking him to kneel, right there on that dusty highway, I asked him THE QUESTION, you all know "the question". Do you believe in your heart that Albert the Alligator is the greatest force in all of college sports and that Urban Meyer is his prophet? He said, "I do believe". I said, "My son rise up!" He replied "I don't think I can." I of course had forgotten a key part of the rites of the returning Gator Ritual. I asked Jeannie to bring me the jar of Gatorade from our cooler. Upon receiving the Gatorade I laid hands upon him and poured a small amount over his head. Friends, he literally catapulted to his feet and begin to lead the "Two Bits Cheer. " Well, let me tell you there was there was some shouting for joy in the Grand Tetons. Later, the three of us stood together, arms across each other's shoulders and there on that mountain side was some semi-sweet harmony as we sang and swayed to "We are the Boys from Old Florida." As physical evidence of his return to the Gator Nation I gave him my Gator ball cap and instructed him that each night he had to chant "Hail Urban" for at least two minutes and say three "Our Tim Tebows." Folks I left that consecrated site with the knowledge that in the morning when that man cut himself shaving he would not see ugly, red blood coursing down his face. No! he will see new blood in glorious Orange and Blue and he will know that there on that road to Jackson Hole, in a mystical ceremony celebrated by the all knowing, but ever humble Gator Ranger, he had been victorious in casting off the chains of disbelief.
Tomorrow we will be in the Rocky Mountain National Park. It will be another opportunity to reach out to those who have wandered far from the loving arms of Albert the Great Gator.
Until we meet again, this is Jim and Tammy Faye, oops, make that Larry and Jeannie on the road for the Glory of the Gator Nation.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Maybe you really can't roller skate in a buffalo herd
Today we were in the car a little longer than average. We left Bigfork, Montana around 8 AM, the drive south was remarkable for the number of large lakes that are so close to the highway and the number of luxury homes that people have built either on the lakes or on the mountainsides overlooking the lakes. There is a lot of money in this world and I find myself always muttering “what in hell do these people do for a living?” There just cannot be that many drug dealers. Can there be? Oh well, I am big into class envy.
Another thought that has been running through my mind since arriving in Montana, and for that matter while driving through Utah and Idaho as well. These people out here are so kind, and they have such a high quality of life, what in the hell are people living in a sewer like Washington D.C. doing trying to tell them how to live and to manage their affairs. I know, calm down Larry, I promised Jeannie I want go off on a rant.
Our GPS, you will recall the comparison to a “drunk riding a mule backwards,” anyhow the GPS surprisingly routed us to within fifteen miles of the western entrance to Yellowstone. We had not planned on going through the park this trip, but when you are that close there is no way we were going to miss it. Opting to go through was definitely the right decision. Jeannie got some great pictures of a momma bald eagle trying to teach her young one to fly. The nest was high in a tree but not too far from the road. The young eagle would cautiously approach the edge of the nest, stand on it and spread its wings but then topple back into the nest. All the time the momma sat there looking regal as only eagles can. The momma would spread her wings, flap them and peck at the younger bird, but alas courage failed the young eaglet and flight would have to wait for another day. We also saw Old Faithful do its thing. According to the park ranger the geyser has only been erupting every ninety minutes or so for about 630,000 years. When you consider recorded history is only a few thousand years that is a pretty good run. I’m not sure I understand applauding the geyser; I mean it is going to come back for an encore whether or not you clap. We saw a large buffalo walking in the road, I admire their style. They remind me of some folks in a super market parking lot. You know what I mean? slowly walking, big butt swinging, Traffic backing up? Too bad! Me hurry? Not a chance! The buffalo waited until there was about a two mile back up of traffic, swung his head around and took a look, nodded, he was probably thinking that seems about right and wandered off into the woods his job done for the day. We also went out on the boardwalk by the boiling mud pits and smaller geysers. Signs are posted everywhere about the danger but inevitably some genius gets off the path and is scalded to death. They said they lose about a dozen or so each year and far more get badly burned. I mean, hello! That is boiling water with steam rising up, hear the rumble? Smell the sulfur? You may not want to dive in something that is on fire, but that’s just me. But what the hell go ahead knock you’re self out, heck maybe it won’t burn you because you are sooo special! I have to wonder what Lewis and Clark, later the mountain men and other early explorers thought when they saw the very ground boiling? The literature says it was all due to volcanic activity and that the geysers, hot springs and the like are indicative of continuing pressure. I sure hope it waits another million years or so before it decides to show off again. We, meaning us humans, are nothing when compared to real power and the nature’s ability to change things in an instant. We saw herds of elk grazing, lots of folks were fly fishing in the mountain streams and all in all it was a super day.
Jeannie is the photographer, in the parks I am usually driving so she is the person who leaps from the car and fearlessly snaps the pictures. She is having a wonderful time, we both are. When we entered Yellowstone, she was literally bouncing up and down with excitement. She called Jennifer and told her about the young eagle learning to fly, as soon as she did it I knew they were both going to cry. But hey, a tender heart is a good thing, a very good thing
Another thought that has been running through my mind since arriving in Montana, and for that matter while driving through Utah and Idaho as well. These people out here are so kind, and they have such a high quality of life, what in the hell are people living in a sewer like Washington D.C. doing trying to tell them how to live and to manage their affairs. I know, calm down Larry, I promised Jeannie I want go off on a rant.
Our GPS, you will recall the comparison to a “drunk riding a mule backwards,” anyhow the GPS surprisingly routed us to within fifteen miles of the western entrance to Yellowstone. We had not planned on going through the park this trip, but when you are that close there is no way we were going to miss it. Opting to go through was definitely the right decision. Jeannie got some great pictures of a momma bald eagle trying to teach her young one to fly. The nest was high in a tree but not too far from the road. The young eagle would cautiously approach the edge of the nest, stand on it and spread its wings but then topple back into the nest. All the time the momma sat there looking regal as only eagles can. The momma would spread her wings, flap them and peck at the younger bird, but alas courage failed the young eaglet and flight would have to wait for another day. We also saw Old Faithful do its thing. According to the park ranger the geyser has only been erupting every ninety minutes or so for about 630,000 years. When you consider recorded history is only a few thousand years that is a pretty good run. I’m not sure I understand applauding the geyser; I mean it is going to come back for an encore whether or not you clap. We saw a large buffalo walking in the road, I admire their style. They remind me of some folks in a super market parking lot. You know what I mean? slowly walking, big butt swinging, Traffic backing up? Too bad! Me hurry? Not a chance! The buffalo waited until there was about a two mile back up of traffic, swung his head around and took a look, nodded, he was probably thinking that seems about right and wandered off into the woods his job done for the day. We also went out on the boardwalk by the boiling mud pits and smaller geysers. Signs are posted everywhere about the danger but inevitably some genius gets off the path and is scalded to death. They said they lose about a dozen or so each year and far more get badly burned. I mean, hello! That is boiling water with steam rising up, hear the rumble? Smell the sulfur? You may not want to dive in something that is on fire, but that’s just me. But what the hell go ahead knock you’re self out, heck maybe it won’t burn you because you are sooo special! I have to wonder what Lewis and Clark, later the mountain men and other early explorers thought when they saw the very ground boiling? The literature says it was all due to volcanic activity and that the geysers, hot springs and the like are indicative of continuing pressure. I sure hope it waits another million years or so before it decides to show off again. We, meaning us humans, are nothing when compared to real power and the nature’s ability to change things in an instant. We saw herds of elk grazing, lots of folks were fly fishing in the mountain streams and all in all it was a super day.
Jeannie is the photographer, in the parks I am usually driving so she is the person who leaps from the car and fearlessly snaps the pictures. She is having a wonderful time, we both are. When we entered Yellowstone, she was literally bouncing up and down with excitement. She called Jennifer and told her about the young eagle learning to fly, as soon as she did it I knew they were both going to cry. But hey, a tender heart is a good thing, a very good thing
Information Technology Teams Averts Crisis, Thousands Cheer
This post is entirely due to the efforts of the grandchildren of Bill and Jeanne Bolick, namely John and Jennifer Herold. They are my information technology team and personal heroes. Over several telephone conversations they were able to make me understand enough to get back up on line. Thank you Jennifer and John, for those of you who like the blog they are who you have to thank, for those who do not like the blog, well at least you know who to blame. Thanks guys, not a chance I could have done it without you.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Feedback and Heart Attacks
I like to take a moment and thank all of you that have either e-mailed me or made comments on the blog. Because I had no idea how to create a blog, upload pictures or anything else, the project has been more work that I had thought. However, I have enjoyed trying to put down my impressions of where we have been, what we have seen and the food we’ve eaten and the joints we visited. My purpose in writing has been two-fold. I am not only sharing my thoughts with all of you all I am trying to keep a daily log of our experiences so that one day I can look back and remember. One of the things that has happened as I have grown older is my memory is not what it once was. I find if I don’t write things down they are gone.
Of all the things that have happened on the trip, one of the highlights has been reading your e-mails and comments. Every single night I sit with a smile on my face and often I find myself laughing out loud at how right on point you are and how humorous your comments have been. Those reading the blog and sending me feedback comprise the full range of the American political spectrum. Some of you are to the right of Attila the Hun and some a little left of Lenin, most are somewhere in between, but all of you are bright, incisive and funny. When last I checked there were nine people signed up following the blog. There are about two dozen more that read it and every day and most days about half give me their thoughts on what I have written. I have the advantage of knowing all of you and appreciating what a truly diverse group you are. So keep your comments coming.
As most of you know, this September will mark the eighth anniversary of my heart attack and six way coronary bypasses. Every morning I religiously take the eight pill cocktail that helps to keep me alive. This morning as I sorted through my meds I recalled an e-mail I received on this trip telling me that taking a trip of more than 7,000 miles to eat barbeque and Mexican food may not be the regimen my cardiologist would recommend. You think? I do not want to be flippant about your concern; I love you for caring enough about me to tell me to take care. To be serious for a moment, I will never forget how scared I was before the surgery, how much it just flat out hurt and how long it took me to recover. Trust me, I do remember. I think that all of our lives ultimately end the same, some sooner than others but at the end of the day, the reaper awaits. I have decided that before that time comes I am going to try and remember what it has all been about. I am going to feed my senses. Cheering as hard as I can for my Gators, seeing beauty, talking to my children and grandchildren, tasting wonderful food, appreciating good music and having the love of my friends. All of it matters more to me than ever before. So I guess I will always tell the joke, share the cold beer and hope we beat those damned Seminoles
Of all the things that have happened on the trip, one of the highlights has been reading your e-mails and comments. Every single night I sit with a smile on my face and often I find myself laughing out loud at how right on point you are and how humorous your comments have been. Those reading the blog and sending me feedback comprise the full range of the American political spectrum. Some of you are to the right of Attila the Hun and some a little left of Lenin, most are somewhere in between, but all of you are bright, incisive and funny. When last I checked there were nine people signed up following the blog. There are about two dozen more that read it and every day and most days about half give me their thoughts on what I have written. I have the advantage of knowing all of you and appreciating what a truly diverse group you are. So keep your comments coming.
As most of you know, this September will mark the eighth anniversary of my heart attack and six way coronary bypasses. Every morning I religiously take the eight pill cocktail that helps to keep me alive. This morning as I sorted through my meds I recalled an e-mail I received on this trip telling me that taking a trip of more than 7,000 miles to eat barbeque and Mexican food may not be the regimen my cardiologist would recommend. You think? I do not want to be flippant about your concern; I love you for caring enough about me to tell me to take care. To be serious for a moment, I will never forget how scared I was before the surgery, how much it just flat out hurt and how long it took me to recover. Trust me, I do remember. I think that all of our lives ultimately end the same, some sooner than others but at the end of the day, the reaper awaits. I have decided that before that time comes I am going to try and remember what it has all been about. I am going to feed my senses. Cheering as hard as I can for my Gators, seeing beauty, talking to my children and grandchildren, tasting wonderful food, appreciating good music and having the love of my friends. All of it matters more to me than ever before. So I guess I will always tell the joke, share the cold beer and hope we beat those damned Seminoles
Stars and Angels
Last night we went to a grocery store to buy provisions and had the good fortune of chatting with the check out lady. She mentioned that Saturday was open house at Glacier National Park and that “it would be a zoo.” She said that every year open house resulted in bumper to bumper traffic and just a general mess. That made our minds up; we decided to go on Friday. Bright and early we headed north toward the Canadian border. Just a word of advice to any of you that travel. Three years ago Jeannie and I were in Arizona for the National Championship game. Following the game we were driving through the desert in California and decided to visit Joshua Tree National Park. The lady at the ranger station said that admission was $25.00, but for $10.00 anyone 62 years of age and older can buy a life time pass. The pass is good for an entire car load of people. We purchased the pass and what a deal it has been. Just show the pass and your identification and any national park, national monument, forest or campground is free. Now that all of the parks have gone to a $25.00 entry fee, buying the pass is a no brainer.
I have uploaded the pictures of Glacier National Park and they speak for themselves. The park has hundreds of water falls. There are large mountain lakes and rushing mountain streams complete with cataracts, rapids and water falls of several hundred feet. Mountain meadows filled with wildflowers are everywhere. There are black bears, grizzly bears, wolverines, wolves, mountain lions and mountain goats and big horn sheep. The main thoroughfare is called “The Road to the Sun” it is a fifty mile trip over the Continental Divide. There is one section of the road called “the Weeping Wall” it is over a mile of continuous water falls ranging from torrents to gentle streams. There are snow caves right by the road; Just like our last trip, Jeannie, once again assaulted me with a snow ball. The trip can be made in two hours; we spent nine hours and could have stayed much longer. Glacier National Park is a magical place.
Today, Saturday, we toured the Flathead Valley. Flathead Lake is the largest natural fresh water lake west of the Mississippi River. The lake reminded Jeannie a great deal of Lake Tahoe. The water is the same deep cobalt blue and is surrounded by snow capped mountains. The community closest to our cabin is Bigfork, Montana. Anyone that has been to Carmel, California would see the similarity to Bigfork. It is a wealthy community with a lot of coffee houses, boutiques, and community theater and art galleries. In physical appearance, the village is striking. Flowers are everywhere, the varieties and numbers have to be seen to be believed. I do not know what their nursery bill is for plant upkeep, but believe me it is significant. We went over to Kalispell and had a pleasant picnic in a City park. Driving the perimeter road around Flathead Lake we drove through several communities celebrating their annual cherry festival. I don’t remember ever seeing a cherry tree before and I know I have never tasted freshly picked cherries. They were surprisingly sweet, I don’t know what I expected but they were better. Later we went to two State Parks near Swan Lake and at each we talked to some local residents. My advice to everyone I meet is always the same, secede now.
I would be remiss if I did not mention the night sky. We are on the side of a mountain over looking a large mountain lake. There are no cities or towns within ten miles and at night there is zero ambient light. There is no pollution hence Montana skies are crystal clear. Jeannie and I have been trying to think of how to describe how the stars up here. The sky is so black and there are so many brilliant stars and the Milky Way is so vivid you wonder if it is even the same sky.
Jeannie is spending the last few minutes of our final night in the porch swing. We are in the middle of a forest of Blue Spruce, Douglas Firs, Red Cedars and Pine. The air outside the cabin smells like Christmas inside of a cedar chest. Just the act of breathing is refreshing.
We will leave Sunday morning for the Grand Tetons and Wyoming. Reluctantly, we will be departing Montana, for in the words of the Blackfoot Indians, not only is the Flathead Valley the Great Spirit’s own chosen country, it is where the Angels come to sing.
I have uploaded the pictures of Glacier National Park and they speak for themselves. The park has hundreds of water falls. There are large mountain lakes and rushing mountain streams complete with cataracts, rapids and water falls of several hundred feet. Mountain meadows filled with wildflowers are everywhere. There are black bears, grizzly bears, wolverines, wolves, mountain lions and mountain goats and big horn sheep. The main thoroughfare is called “The Road to the Sun” it is a fifty mile trip over the Continental Divide. There is one section of the road called “the Weeping Wall” it is over a mile of continuous water falls ranging from torrents to gentle streams. There are snow caves right by the road; Just like our last trip, Jeannie, once again assaulted me with a snow ball. The trip can be made in two hours; we spent nine hours and could have stayed much longer. Glacier National Park is a magical place.
Today, Saturday, we toured the Flathead Valley. Flathead Lake is the largest natural fresh water lake west of the Mississippi River. The lake reminded Jeannie a great deal of Lake Tahoe. The water is the same deep cobalt blue and is surrounded by snow capped mountains. The community closest to our cabin is Bigfork, Montana. Anyone that has been to Carmel, California would see the similarity to Bigfork. It is a wealthy community with a lot of coffee houses, boutiques, and community theater and art galleries. In physical appearance, the village is striking. Flowers are everywhere, the varieties and numbers have to be seen to be believed. I do not know what their nursery bill is for plant upkeep, but believe me it is significant. We went over to Kalispell and had a pleasant picnic in a City park. Driving the perimeter road around Flathead Lake we drove through several communities celebrating their annual cherry festival. I don’t remember ever seeing a cherry tree before and I know I have never tasted freshly picked cherries. They were surprisingly sweet, I don’t know what I expected but they were better. Later we went to two State Parks near Swan Lake and at each we talked to some local residents. My advice to everyone I meet is always the same, secede now.
I would be remiss if I did not mention the night sky. We are on the side of a mountain over looking a large mountain lake. There are no cities or towns within ten miles and at night there is zero ambient light. There is no pollution hence Montana skies are crystal clear. Jeannie and I have been trying to think of how to describe how the stars up here. The sky is so black and there are so many brilliant stars and the Milky Way is so vivid you wonder if it is even the same sky.
Jeannie is spending the last few minutes of our final night in the porch swing. We are in the middle of a forest of Blue Spruce, Douglas Firs, Red Cedars and Pine. The air outside the cabin smells like Christmas inside of a cedar chest. Just the act of breathing is refreshing.
We will leave Sunday morning for the Grand Tetons and Wyoming. Reluctantly, we will be departing Montana, for in the words of the Blackfoot Indians, not only is the Flathead Valley the Great Spirit’s own chosen country, it is where the Angels come to sing.
Computer ills and such
We are fine the laptop is not, I will up load some new stuff tonight, sorry about the delay. We are in Idaho, been through Yellowstone, headed for the Grand Tetons then Rocky Mountain Natinal Park. Your Travelling Trolls, Larry and Jeannie
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Montana
No WI FI in the wilderness. I am doing a draft that I will copy to the blog if and when we ever get back to civilization. Today was interesting. We left Salt Lake City about 8:30 AM and hit the road for Bigfork, Montana. For a while we ran parallel to the Great Salt Lake that is one more large body of water. We had a beautiful day for our journey the sky was blue, man I want to say azure blue but that would be so pretentious. What the hell, the sky was an azure blue that particular shade which only happens in the great American west. I feel better already, just reading it back aloud I know the author hasn’t a clue. I love it.
Leaving Utah we crossed into Idaho, almost immediately the terrain got much greener. There is a lot of agriculture and unlike Utah; you do not see evidence of widespread irrigation machinery. Every place we have stopped in Utah, Idaho and Montana we have found the people to be unfailingly polite and friendly. Another noticeable characteristic is cleanliness. Quick stop market, service stations and rest areas are all spotless and their bathrooms are likewise. The use of please, thank you and you are welcome are common and no one seems reluctant or resentful when you ask a question. There also a hell of a lot of blondes. If I had one piece of advice for this part of our country it would be this; secede now.
We drove through Idaho and Southwestern Montana, throughout the drive Jeannie kept repeating gorgeous just gorgeous. She is right the scenery takes one’s breath away. There was a stretch of road lined with blue spruce trees all were eight feet high and for more than twenty miles we felt as if we were driving through a giant Christmas tree lane. From central Montana Northward the area grew increasingly mountainous, and below the tree line it is very heavily forested. It seems there is a mountain lake around every corner and rushing mountain streams along side all of the roadways.
After nine days and 4,097 miles we finally reached our destination. We arrived around 6:30 PM. Our lodging is a one bedroom log cabin. We have a refrigerator, microwave and gas BBQ grill. According to Jeannie the most important thing though is outside the cabin. A porch swing, and in the year a fire pit for wieners and marshmallows. I quickly looked around and verified there was a nice pile of chopped wood. It is not that I am lazy, okay I am lazy but I am also not the very best person with an ax.
No internet access for a few days. We are sitting in a coffee shop in Kalispell, Montana, they have wireless, I am going to try and send this and some pictures. Hope are well, we will be back on line when we are back on the road until then, see ya!
Leaving Utah we crossed into Idaho, almost immediately the terrain got much greener. There is a lot of agriculture and unlike Utah; you do not see evidence of widespread irrigation machinery. Every place we have stopped in Utah, Idaho and Montana we have found the people to be unfailingly polite and friendly. Another noticeable characteristic is cleanliness. Quick stop market, service stations and rest areas are all spotless and their bathrooms are likewise. The use of please, thank you and you are welcome are common and no one seems reluctant or resentful when you ask a question. There also a hell of a lot of blondes. If I had one piece of advice for this part of our country it would be this; secede now.
We drove through Idaho and Southwestern Montana, throughout the drive Jeannie kept repeating gorgeous just gorgeous. She is right the scenery takes one’s breath away. There was a stretch of road lined with blue spruce trees all were eight feet high and for more than twenty miles we felt as if we were driving through a giant Christmas tree lane. From central Montana Northward the area grew increasingly mountainous, and below the tree line it is very heavily forested. It seems there is a mountain lake around every corner and rushing mountain streams along side all of the roadways.
After nine days and 4,097 miles we finally reached our destination. We arrived around 6:30 PM. Our lodging is a one bedroom log cabin. We have a refrigerator, microwave and gas BBQ grill. According to Jeannie the most important thing though is outside the cabin. A porch swing, and in the year a fire pit for wieners and marshmallows. I quickly looked around and verified there was a nice pile of chopped wood. It is not that I am lazy, okay I am lazy but I am also not the very best person with an ax.
No internet access for a few days. We are sitting in a coffee shop in Kalispell, Montana, they have wireless, I am going to try and send this and some pictures. Hope are well, we will be back on line when we are back on the road until then, see ya!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
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