the twilight's last gleaming
Right now, I am sitting in a KOA Kamping Kabin (did I mention how much I love KOA?!) and I am listening to fireworks taking place in various places around Billings, MT. But, Peggy! -you gasp- How did you possibly get to Billings on the 4th of July?! Well, let me tell you folks … it was not that easy.
Day Two. July 2, 2006. 317 miles. In retrospect, perhaps we should have decided to make Glacier NP in 3 shorter days rather than 2 longer ones. The second day (July 2) might be the closest we come to seriously almost bagging this whole ridiculous idea and holing up somewhere and coming back to Seattle simply pretending that we took a month-long road-trip. Note to self: Eat more frequently. 2nd note to self: Somehow trick Mark into eating more frequently.
BUT! We made it to Glacier, and it was beautiful. In fact, the whole of the drive up to Glacier was also beautiful. And some of the time we even had the presence of mind to remember to enjoy it. It was a long day that ended with a crazy campsite fiasco, which almost made me cry and involved not getting a site at all, then getting one, then having it taken away, then getting another one. Then it rained on us. And then we got to eat dinner. Then we got eaten by a grizzly.
Okay, I made that last part up. In fact, after it rained and we ate, we took a lovely walk around the campground (not KOA this time, but actually in Glacier NP at the Fish Creek campround), and found 2 ways down to Lake McDonald where we relaxed to the view and the sound of the water. And had a rock skipping contest. The winner? Me at 11 years old. Boy, have I lost that skill. A shame, really. I’m going to do my best to rectify the situation.
After the walk, we drank wine and promised that the rest of the trip we were going to be better and nicer, and then giggled in the tent for awhile before lights out. I love the sound of other campsites’ quiet murmuring and laughing and then gradual silence. It’s a strong visceral memory from a childhood of campground vacations, and it soothes me and makes me feel safe.
Day three. July 3, 2006. 133 miles. The day started rough. For various reasons too complicated and personal to go into, I had a bit of a meltdown. I partly blame this goddam cold which I cannot completely shake. But there it was. That happened, then the air was clear, and everything else that day was magical. Out first real day of DOING rather than DRIVING.
After a lovely light lunch, we drove through Glacier NP on the Going-to-the-Sun Road, stopping liberally along the way wherever we felt like it. A vista here, a waterfall there. The Continental Divide. We hiked to St. Mary’s Falls and then onto Virginia Falls. St. Mary’s was beautiful, but we shared it with everyone because it was an easy climb. Virginia, however, was almost empty. It was also a fairly easy climb, but almost noone besides us kept going past the first falls. I’m glad we did. As beautiful as Glacier is, it was our only real moment of solitude, and we soaked it up. And I soaked my feet in the edge of the falls (far away from any danger, Mom and Dad – I promise). A few sips from the flask added to our sense of euphoria.
Then back on the road, and we continued our slow pleasant drive through the park. We decided to push on and find a campground further on past the park. Our first try resulted in a vaguely Chainsaw-Massacre-ish place, where the toothless guy came up from the house on his tractor to welcome us and express his hopes that we would stay because, “We like to party; we have a good time here!” Actually, in another week, I think we would have welcomed the adventure, but I think we were both looking for something more in our comfort zone. So on we traveled, and just as we were starting to think we’d fucked up again, we came upon the most amazing oasis of a small town called Dupuyer. It is a town of 80 people, 2 grocery stores, 2 restaurant/bars, and 1 B&B. The B&B was charming, and we were pretty excited, but it was obvious from the welcome they gave us that those poor folks were just hoping to have a quiet early night before the holiday. They had just vacated a whole house full of guests, and were so kind and completely willing to help us out if we had no other options, but they were also noticeably relieved to direct us to the county park (a mere block away) once they learned that we were prepared to tent. The park was not much more than a field with an outhouse where you could camp for free (!) – there is no earthly way we would have know of its existence without the B&B folks. It was awesome, and we had the whole place to ourselves. We stopped by one of the groceries to get some cold medicine (yes, it’s still hanging on), and she directed us strongly to one restaurant over the other. So we went and had some whiskey and all-you-can-eat tacos at this place run by two native Washingtonians that are about our age. De-fucking-lighful. Then back to the campsite to play Frisbee. Then the quietest night sleep yet.
Day four. July 4, 2006. Independence Day. 338 miles. About 30 miles from Dupuyer is a town called Choteau (“show-toe”), and we rolled into town JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME to see their 4th of July parade. It was AWESOME. Fire trucks, tractors, the Shriners, princess floats – oh the list goes on and on. We shot a gazillion pictures. There is nothing like this in a city. It is impossible to have a parade like this anywhere but in a small town. We loved every minute. Then ice cream, then on the road again. And the road looked a lot the same from there all the way to Billings. That’s to say, beautiful. But our eyes were a bit saturated, and we were happy to roll into Billings to our Kabin, where here I sit on the bed with Mark now snoring and the pop of fireworks continuing into the night.
I shall take a moment as a fall asleep to remember what this day really means, and to pray for peace and freedom for all of us.
Day Two. July 2, 2006. 317 miles. In retrospect, perhaps we should have decided to make Glacier NP in 3 shorter days rather than 2 longer ones. The second day (July 2) might be the closest we come to seriously almost bagging this whole ridiculous idea and holing up somewhere and coming back to Seattle simply pretending that we took a month-long road-trip. Note to self: Eat more frequently. 2nd note to self: Somehow trick Mark into eating more frequently.
BUT! We made it to Glacier, and it was beautiful. In fact, the whole of the drive up to Glacier was also beautiful. And some of the time we even had the presence of mind to remember to enjoy it. It was a long day that ended with a crazy campsite fiasco, which almost made me cry and involved not getting a site at all, then getting one, then having it taken away, then getting another one. Then it rained on us. And then we got to eat dinner. Then we got eaten by a grizzly.
Okay, I made that last part up. In fact, after it rained and we ate, we took a lovely walk around the campground (not KOA this time, but actually in Glacier NP at the Fish Creek campround), and found 2 ways down to Lake McDonald where we relaxed to the view and the sound of the water. And had a rock skipping contest. The winner? Me at 11 years old. Boy, have I lost that skill. A shame, really. I’m going to do my best to rectify the situation.
After the walk, we drank wine and promised that the rest of the trip we were going to be better and nicer, and then giggled in the tent for awhile before lights out. I love the sound of other campsites’ quiet murmuring and laughing and then gradual silence. It’s a strong visceral memory from a childhood of campground vacations, and it soothes me and makes me feel safe.
Day three. July 3, 2006. 133 miles. The day started rough. For various reasons too complicated and personal to go into, I had a bit of a meltdown. I partly blame this goddam cold which I cannot completely shake. But there it was. That happened, then the air was clear, and everything else that day was magical. Out first real day of DOING rather than DRIVING.
After a lovely light lunch, we drove through Glacier NP on the Going-to-the-Sun Road, stopping liberally along the way wherever we felt like it. A vista here, a waterfall there. The Continental Divide. We hiked to St. Mary’s Falls and then onto Virginia Falls. St. Mary’s was beautiful, but we shared it with everyone because it was an easy climb. Virginia, however, was almost empty. It was also a fairly easy climb, but almost noone besides us kept going past the first falls. I’m glad we did. As beautiful as Glacier is, it was our only real moment of solitude, and we soaked it up. And I soaked my feet in the edge of the falls (far away from any danger, Mom and Dad – I promise). A few sips from the flask added to our sense of euphoria.
Then back on the road, and we continued our slow pleasant drive through the park. We decided to push on and find a campground further on past the park. Our first try resulted in a vaguely Chainsaw-Massacre-ish place, where the toothless guy came up from the house on his tractor to welcome us and express his hopes that we would stay because, “We like to party; we have a good time here!” Actually, in another week, I think we would have welcomed the adventure, but I think we were both looking for something more in our comfort zone. So on we traveled, and just as we were starting to think we’d fucked up again, we came upon the most amazing oasis of a small town called Dupuyer. It is a town of 80 people, 2 grocery stores, 2 restaurant/bars, and 1 B&B. The B&B was charming, and we were pretty excited, but it was obvious from the welcome they gave us that those poor folks were just hoping to have a quiet early night before the holiday. They had just vacated a whole house full of guests, and were so kind and completely willing to help us out if we had no other options, but they were also noticeably relieved to direct us to the county park (a mere block away) once they learned that we were prepared to tent. The park was not much more than a field with an outhouse where you could camp for free (!) – there is no earthly way we would have know of its existence without the B&B folks. It was awesome, and we had the whole place to ourselves. We stopped by one of the groceries to get some cold medicine (yes, it’s still hanging on), and she directed us strongly to one restaurant over the other. So we went and had some whiskey and all-you-can-eat tacos at this place run by two native Washingtonians that are about our age. De-fucking-lighful. Then back to the campsite to play Frisbee. Then the quietest night sleep yet.
Day four. July 4, 2006. Independence Day. 338 miles. About 30 miles from Dupuyer is a town called Choteau (“show-toe”), and we rolled into town JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME to see their 4th of July parade. It was AWESOME. Fire trucks, tractors, the Shriners, princess floats – oh the list goes on and on. We shot a gazillion pictures. There is nothing like this in a city. It is impossible to have a parade like this anywhere but in a small town. We loved every minute. Then ice cream, then on the road again. And the road looked a lot the same from there all the way to Billings. That’s to say, beautiful. But our eyes were a bit saturated, and we were happy to roll into Billings to our Kabin, where here I sit on the bed with Mark now snoring and the pop of fireworks continuing into the night.
I shall take a moment as a fall asleep to remember what this day really means, and to pray for peace and freedom for all of us.
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