John Rachal's Blog

DAY 56, July 16, Tuesday

I got up a little after 6 and snuck out so as not to disturb Val so that I could meet my Kalispell hiking buddy Brett for breakfast. Kalispell is about 25 miles from our campsite in Coram, and we had a big Sykes breakfast and a too brief visit before he had to go to work. He has hiked every trail in the park, over 2,000 miles, and is an excellent wildlife photographer. My favorite shot of his is an owl flying head on right into the camera. Last year we went to the east side of Glacier and hiked to Firebrand Pass, a 10 or so miler at the top of which the steady wind was so strong that you could drop a rock the size of your big toe from head level and it would land three feet away from the point at which it would have landed had it fallen vertically. We almost had to yell to each other due to the wind noise. Our toughest hike was probably Mt. Brown Lookout, a little over 10 miles up and back down with 4,200 feet of elevation gain, about 16% average. Last year I asked him if he were going a little slower than normal to accommodate my old man pace. He gently said, with a tinge of embarrassment, “maybe just a little.” Why is it that all these revelations of encroaching decrepitude continue to surprise me? Do I think I’m 30?

I got back to our camper around 930 and then Val and I went to her favorite breakfast place, Montana Coffee Traders in Columbia Falls. We returned to camp and finally managed to fix the broken rivet on the roof of the camper. The ladder, though only four feet, is a necessity, and I had considered not even bringing it. We have also learned of things that are not necessities, or at least so far have not been: the four foot table, the tent-like Clam, the solar panel, and even the generator. We’ve used the Clam once, the generator about twice, the table and solar panel not at all. Admittedly the latter two are up in the Thule roof carrier and are thus a pain to get down. However, we are bound to have increasingly warm days as we return through the lower 48, and that generator could come in handy for air conditioning whenever we are dry camping, at least for a couple of hours. Many places restrict generator usage to certain hours—a good rule. The solar panel at least keeps the camper battery charged, and is fine for our LED lights, but 110 outlets would still be useless without the generator.

We also went into Whitefish for a while, a very upscale tourist magnet, and I bought a Going-to-the-Sun biking jersey, feeling a little guilty about it since I have not actually done that ride. But I’ve driven it at least a dozen times, so maybe that counts for something. We also went to the Visitors Center in the park to look at hiking opportunities. We needed to stay where we still had phone connection since there was the unlikely possibility of the Chevy place calling to tell us to bring the car in for diagnosis of our problem. That did not happen, however, and so I built an evening fire while Val made a delicious frying pan pizza.

DAY 57, July 17, Wednesday

I left about 7:15 for the Chevy dealership in Kalispell. The diagnosis was a failed shock absorber, causing the air compressor to constantly try to adjust for the weight or lack of it in the rear. They could overnight a shock from Reno, and possibly the car could be good to go by Thursday afternoon. I drove to Hungry Horse for breakfast.

In the afternoon she drove me over to the park where, after some struggle, we found where the Apgar Lookout trailhead was. It is a 7.2 mile up and down hike with just under 2000 feet of elevation gain, or 10% average grade. I crossed paths with a 73 year-old retired Air Force guy who had started up but soon came back, concerned about bears since he was walking alone. It was an understandable concern, and if I had thought I was the only person on the trail I would have done the same, especially since the foliage was not six inches off the trail and varied from knee high to shoulder high. I suggested we hike together, to which he gladly assented, and we talked the whole way up and back down. The temperature cooled as we ascended, and it was quite windy at the top, from which the view was pretty spectacular: forested mountains all around, including some below us, small lakes here and there, and a tiny little thread that was the trail far below. My ignorance of flowers is vast and deep, but there was Indian Paintbrush and several other colorful species along the trail from perhaps midway on up. We also saw a dusky grouse, though at the time we thought it was a ptarmigan. For the last mile or so coming down it rained, but we both had rain gear.

Val came back and was waiting to pick me up after about three and a half hours. It continued raining lightly at camp so I didn’t make a fire. Instead we went to Columbia Falls for a fine Mexican dinner.

It was a fine day.

DAY 58, July 18, Thursday

About 1 am I suddenly had a vicious inner thigh cramp, pretty much the same ones I occasionally have from cycling if I don’t drink enough or take electrolyte pills when the distance is long and the weather warm. Apparently I hadn’t drunk enough during and after the hike. I’ve talked to some of my biking friends, and we have agreed that these are not just “darn, that hurts” pains, but screaming pains like you’re on the rack in some chamber of the Spanish Inquisition. It’s also frightening because you don’t know how long they will last. Val gave me a Gatorade, which I downed quickly to get it into my system. I did not bring electrolyte pills from home, but sure wish I had. Happily these sharp, wrenching pains didn’t return. Val said that any neighbors awakened by all my noise must either think we were having—or at least I was having—incredible sex, or that she was killing me. It’s a bi-polar world.

Again we had breakfast at Montana Coffee Traders. I actually had more than I could eat, which would come as a surprise to many, not least a now deceased Southern Gentleman friend from the 70s who once said at a dinner party that I ate like a field hand. I took it as a compliment.

We had Leo and Lucy, and we ran a few errands in Kalispell before taking the car in for its new shock in the early afternoon. It’s not as if you can tell a difference driving, but there may be some test when we hitch up again and see whether there is much or any sag between car and camper. But a problem was officially diagnosed and repaired and so we feel pretty good about it. The dogs waited patiently with us in the waiting area of the dealership.

The four of us did a short stroll in Lone Pine State Park, essentially a single mountain on the edge of Kalispell where I have hiked before. There are some panoramic views of Kalispell from the top. Unlike national parks, dogs on leash are allowed on the trails that crisscross the mountain.

By now it was 5 pm and the dogs had been with us throughout the day. We ordered a to go pizza from Moose’s, a favorite Kalispell haunt with peanut shells all over the floor. We drove back to camp, 25 or so miles, fed the hounds, and ate pizza at our picnic table. Then we drove over to the park, sans dogs, did a little shopping at Apgar village, had huckleberry ice cream, saw a rufous hummingbird, came home, and called it a good day.