I ended the previous post with the events at Logan Pass – the westernmost point to which we could travel on the Going to the Sun Road on 8 September 2017 and a photo – taken from a safe distance I assure you – of the fearsome Columbian ground squirrel. Those of you who were interested enough to look through my photo album from the day might have wondered why I included this rather awkwardly framed picture
since it clearly cuts off segments of the sign. I took it to try to show you the flakes of ash we were breathing. It is a poorly executed attempt but if you look at it very closely along the dark edges of the sign you can see tiny white specks. They are ash particles and as I ran my finger along the sign it became covered in ash reminiscent of the soot I found on signs and railings in Beijing when I visited there several years ago and worried about that city’s pollution.
We wandered around at Logan Pass for 20 minutes or perhaps half an hour before returning to the bus for the ride down the mountain and out of the park. By this point in the day, the group had developed a congenial rapport. I rode shotgun next to Charles and, while I asked some serious questions, I enthusiastically tossed out a pun whenever one came to mind also adding comments that in other circumstances might have been considered inappropriately irreverent. Fortunately, everyone was good natured about both my humor and the rather dismal day – especially Chris who could be every bit as flippant and perhaps indecorous as I. It could be that Wendy was an equal participant but writing this entry nearly three months past the events, I recall Chris’ banter more vividly though Wendy certainly wasn’t shy.
Chris has a background in marketing so during the bus ride he became quite engaged with Stephanie and (I think) her mother-in-law who was traveling with her. I overheard bits of the conversation as he suggested some creative ways she might consider as a means of fulfilling her mandate to increase tourism to the Blackfoot Reservation as the newly named Director of Tourism, Parks and Recreation for the Blackfeet Nation.
Charles suggested we stop for lunch at the Snowgoose Grille – the restaurant at Saint Mary Lodge just outside the park gates. Although we hadn’t been terribly active, we were all sufficiently hungry that we agreed we should stop. Chris, Wendy, Stephanie, and her companion were planning to lunch together and they invited me to join them. The six of us squeezed around a table in a booth like this one (photo from the glacierparkcollection website).
Although I was a bit late to their discussion of creative ways to increase tourism for the reservation, I listened quietly for a few minutes and then, as I am rarely hesitant to do, injected my opinions and ideas into the conversation. We peppered Stephanie with questions and, I think, aurally assaulted her spewing suggestion after suggestion in rapid fire succession. While Craig certainly put forth more creative ideas than I, I think my perspectives added some value. Because my stop in Butte was quite fresh in my memory, I drew on that to tell Stephanie how the citizens of that town had turned the Berkeley Pit, the “country’s largest body of toxic water”, into a tourism opportunity and that, given the natural beauty of the area and the proud history of her tribe, finding opportunities here should be a bit less challenging.
We continued a lively conversation on the bus and by the time we got back to the hotel, Wendy, Craig, and I had agreed to meet for dinner. At this second shared meal of the day, our conversation was topically broad ranging from a comparison of experiences on our Big Ash Country travels, to a shared interest in baseball, to politics, and even to the Mario Livio book I was reading at the time.
Saturday arrives and I depart.
The forecast for the ninth anticipated no significant improvement regarding the wildfires and with Waterton Park – Glacier’s Canadian sister park – already closed, I didn’t see much reason to stay. I’d told Craig and Wendy at dinner that I’d checked with the hotel and been assured that I’d face no penalty for checking out a day early so my new plan was to leave in the morning and return to Calgary where I anticipated I could find some things of interest to close the trip.
According to Google Maps, I’d need about four hours to drive from East Glacier Park Village to Calgary. Even factoring in a stop for lunch I had no reason to hurry so when I saw my new California buddies in the dining room eating breakfast, I wandered in to say a final goodbye and reiterate how much I’d enjoyed meeting them. I sat and we chatted for nearly an hour.
The drive to Calgary wasn’t entirely without incident. First, when I tried to use my Global Entry Card to cross the border into Canada (crossing farther west at Carway than I had on my entry into the States), the guard couldn’t get his reader to scan it. Fortunately, I’d brought my passport as a backup and I crossed into Canada with no other issues.
The second bit of trouble was of my own making. I was able to book a second night at the same hotel that I’d booked for the tenth. However, when I entered the address in my phone’s GPS, I input the wrong quadrant in Calgary so it dutifully guided me to 1847 18th Street, NW when I needed it to take me to 1847 18th Street, NE. Including my trouble at the border, a stop for lunch, and getting lost, my expected four hour drive took nearly six. I checked into the hotel, meditated myself into a nap and, when I woke, looked for a place to eat dinner. I found a nearby Indian Sri Lankan fusion restaurant and ate too much. (I think I had the veggie pakora and the chicken kothu parantha.)
With the itinerary change, I’ll have much more of a chance to wander around Calgary than I expected and my report on that wandering follows in the the upcoming posts.