Saturday Summary - Week 37 - Glaciers, Blackfeet Nation & the Road That Scraped Back

July 12 – July 17 | Saint Mary, MT (70s) → Chinook, MT (80s)

Where We Stayed

• Heart of Glacier RV Park — Saint Mary, MT (Saturday–Wednesday)

• Purely Goatly — Harvest Host, Chinook, MT (Thursday)

A Note on Language

Before we dive in: Don is currently reading a book that addresses the myths and misconceptions surrounding the nations indigenous to North America. One thing we're trying to be more intentional about is referring to specific nations by their proper names rather than the broad, catch-all terms (Native American, Indigenous Nations, Tribal Nations) that, while not incorrect, are vague and flatten real distinctions. This week we spent time on land belonging to the Blackfeet Nation.

Glacier National Park — The East Side

OMG. Glacier just blew my mind. And we didn't even take the long hikes to actually see the glaciers themselves. This park is massive, and in our five days we explored only the east side. Even on the Going-to-the-Sun Road, we turned around at the midpoint and came back. What we saw was enough to leave me completely speechless. Let me break it down by day.

Saturday — Kayaking St. Mary Lake & the Apikuni Falls Hike

I had been thinking about kayaking St. Mary Lake since we first started planning Glacier. After what we experienced on Diablo Lake in the North Cascades, the bar was high. But first, logistics. At the entrance gate, the ranger asked our dimensions. We confirmed: 22 "with the bike rack, 20" without; 10'6" with the kayaks, 9'6" without. He told us we were probably fine with everything on, but that we should strongly consider removing the kayaks and bikes before attempting the Going-to-the-Sun Road. We asked about width. He looked at the bus for a long moment and said: "You should be fine." He did not sound certain. We filed that away for Sunday.

We also learned something at the kayak inspection station: the kayaks would need to be inspected every single day we brought them into the park, whether or not we used them. That settled it; the kayaks were coming off tonight and would stay unless we planned another kayaking experience. For now, we had them on, and we were headed to the water.

It was a windy day. Genuinely windy. We were hesitant, but I needed this to happen, so we launched anyway, staying close to shore with Lucky on board. What took us about half an hour paddling into the wind took five minutes on the way back. We found a quiet spot on the shore and just sat there; mountains above us, glacial water around us, Lucky looking very pleased with herself. I keep having moments on this trip when I think, "I cannot believe we get to do this."

After the kayaks, we headed to the Many Glacier section of the park, a separate entrance on the east side with no size restrictions, which was a relief. We hiked Apikuni Falls: about two miles, 651 feet of elevation gain, hardly anyone else on the trail, and views that earned it huge marks as our first official Glacier hike. I also got another great shot of Don for the ongoing "Don Admiring Nature" series; a collection that started at overlooks where he'd walk to the edge while I stayed back and photographed him from a safe distance. The series continues. We left Many Glacier a little early to catch the Kuhl Call from Babb, the nearest town with signal. Dinner was from a BBQ food truck that had had a great day and was nearly sold out; we got burned ends and were very happy about that.

We returned to the campsite for a rest before driving back to the visitor center at 10 pm for the Astronomy Program. I am not a night person. 10 pm is genuinely late for me at this point in the trip. It took real encouragement to get me out the door. The program ran until midnight. And here's the wild part: there was still twilight in the sky until about 11:15 pm. This far north in July, the sun barely goes down. The program was wonderful (we did one with Gretel at Death Valley and loved it too) and the sky did not disappoint. But it was a very, very long day, and tomorrow we were waking up early.

Sunday — The Going-to-the-Sun Road

We removed everything from the bus the night before. Sunday morning, Don cleaned the windshield so we'd have clear view and photos. We set off early from the St. Mary entrance. The drive up to Logan Pass was spectacular. One tunnel, multiple overlooks, and Lunch Creek; a waterfall so beautiful it looked like someone had edited reality. The photos don't do it justice; some things you just have to see, smell, hear, and feel in person

After Logan Pass, the road got narrow. Very narrow. Rock wall on one side going straight up, drop-off on the other. I was white-knuckling it, taking videos with my eyes half closed. And then we scraped the rock wall. I didn't lose it, but I was close. I just kept saying: "Whatever it is, it's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay." A few minutes later we reached a pull-off. Keep going forward and exit at the West Entrance, then drive all the way around the park? Or turn around? I was Team Keep Going. Don is the driver. Don was Team Turn Around. We turned around, on the cliff side. I set a timer for ten minutes and closed my eyes.

We made it back without further incident. The damage assessment back at camp was surprisingly positive: a bad scrape on the side, but tires fine, mirrors fine, door fine, and the under-bus locker still opens and closes. Skuhlie took a hit and kept going. It wasn't even noon.

We rallied. The final ceremonies of the North American Indian Days were happening in Browning at 1 pm, and we decided to go. We arrived just in time for the opening procession. It was spectacular, truly inspirational, and I felt genuinely honored to be present. The regalia was extraordinary, with breathtaking attention to detail. Participants ranged in age from about 8 to 80, and that multigenerational continuity felt like an important point. The heat eventually drove us back to the bus and the air conditioning, and we ended a very emotional day with pizza in St. Mary. Exactly right. One note worth mentioning: this entire area is on Blackfeet Nation land, and during the North American Indian Days Pow Wow in Browning, there were no alcohol sales at any restaurant. I wanted to understand this better. Don's book actually addresses (and debunks) the common myth about Indigenous peoples and alcohol. The policy during the Pow Wow is a sovereign decision made by the Blackfeet Nation, and that context matters.

Monday — Two Medicine Lake & a Mountain Goat

Don took Monday off so we could spend an extra full day in the park. We headed south to Two Medicine; yet another section of the east side, about an hour from St. Mary, with the last 20 minutes up and over the mountain on a bumpy, narrow road. We were not quite over Sunday's emotional ride, so this was not really welcomed. But we pushed through.

Our first stop was the Running Eagle Nature Trail, which leads to what's nicknamed Trick Falls; a waterfall that drops down two spots simultaneously. A small cascade comes over the top of the rock; most of the water filters through the rock itself and emerges from the middle. It genuinely looks like two waterfalls in one and is super cool. We walked in the river for a while, and at one point found ourselves completely alone in the canyon. We started singing bear songs. We felt very exposed.

Two Medicine Lake and Lodge were busy; I'd read it was one of the least-visited sections of Glacier, but "least visited" is relative when you're talking about one of America's most beloved parks. We found parking farther out and walked back with Lucky. Dogs are only allowed on paved areas in most national parks, which limits where we can take her, but we made the most of it. We got ice cream at the lodge, ate it by the lake, and got what I'm certain will become one of our favorite photos of the entire trip: all three of us, sitting together by the water with the amazing mountains behind us.

We also saw our first mountain goat — a mama and her baby. Apparently this pair had become something of a regular presence in the area. We chatted with a ranger who had been watching this baby's growth over the past few weeks. He pulled out his phone to show us a little progression of photos. It was one of those unexpectedly tender moments that sneak up on you in a national park. Once again, the ranger for the win!

Tuesday & Wednesday - A Rainy Day and 25 Miles on the Bike

Cell service in St. Mary is genuinely poor, and the campground WiFi wasn't much better. Don found a pull-out about ten minutes up the hill that got a decent signal, so his daily "commute to work" became a ten-minute drive rather than the forty-minute trip to Browning we thought he'd have to do. Tuesday was rainy, so I set up the office tent; Lucky and I spent most of the day in it. I painted landscapes inspired by the trip and listened to my audiobook. When the rain eased, Lucky and I walked to the visitor center. When Don got back, the three of us walked to St. Mary Lodge for nachos and cocktails. A good rainy day, all things considered.

Don commuted up the hill again on Wednesday. I biked 25 miles, 12 along Lower St. Mary Lake outside the park and another 13 along St. Mary Lake inside the park. The first 12 were on a small, unpaved county road. Absolutely beautiful and absolutely lonely; no people, no homes, just mountains, lake, and the very real possibility of bears. The views were something else entirely, but the fear never quite left me the whole ride. I had only planned to go a mile or two, but it was so beautiful I just kept going. My water bottle rattled constantly in the basket, I played music from my phone at full volume, kept the bear spray clipped to the handlebars, and had Lucky happily riding along in the basket. I heard a story after the ride that, had I heard it before, would probably have kept me off that road entirely. A couple was cycling on a road similar to mine when the husband rounded a sharp bend and rode directly into a grizzly mother with two cubs nearby. He fell from the bike. His wife pedaled hard to get help. By the time anyone returned, he was gone.

I'm glad I heard it after.

In the evening, we attended the Native America Speaks program at the visitor center, a presentation by the Blackfeet Nation that included traditional dancing. It was a privilege to be in that room. I was left with the uncomfortable feeling that it was a showcase for our benefit; I really hope it has value for the Blackfeet Nation. This program began in 1982 and is the longest-running Indigenous speaker series in the National Park Service.

We packed up camp at the end of the day (kayaks back on, bikes back on, office tent folded up). Six nights in one place, even with the daily bus movement for work and exploration, had been exactly what we needed. A word about the grizzlies: we couldn't leave the camp stove outside overnight. We cooked outside regularly, but everything had to come in after dark. That's bear country for you.

Thursday — Purely Goatly & the Cow Visit

We departed around 7am and retraced our route to Cut Bank, where Don had worked the day the Browning cell tower went down. Going back felt almost like being a local, which made me laugh. It's a lovely little park with shade and a nice breeze, exactly what we needed on a hot day before continuing on.

Our Harvest Host overnight was at Purely Goatly in Chinook, MT. A goat farm with the most relaxed and wonderful host. She pointed us to a flat spot at the top of the hill that she said most campers preferred, and then, just before we settled in, she asked: "Cows or no cows?" Cows, obviously. Always cows. She let us know there were two curious calves in the herd and encouraged us to keep the door closed. We spent the afternoon doing our now-classic shade-chasing routine, moving chairs from one side of the bus to the other as the sun shifted. It was too hot to cook, so dinner was apples, cheese, and cold sandwiches.

At dusk, exactly as promised, the cows came up the hill. Suddenly they were right next to the bus, the two calves pressing in to investigate Skuhlie and get a look at Lucky. We had a solid half hour of pure entertainment before they drifted further up the hill. We also flew the drone; something we haven't done nearly as much as I'd intended. Many places don't allow it, and I kept forgetting to take it out. We may be having battery issues with the controller, which is frustrating. But the footage from Purely Goatly was worth it. I bought two goat milk soaps and two lotion bars before we left. Another Harvest Host win

Next up: Heading to North Dakota and Theodore Roosevelt National Park.