Glacier in October

Lake McDonald - View from our camp site

This past Monday and Tuesday nights we camped at Apgar Picnic Grounds on the west side of Glacier National Park. Picnic area because all of the campgrounds in the park that would accommodate The Pickle are closed for the season. The sign on the barricade at Apgar Campground  read, "Winter Camping sites available at Apgar Picnic Grounds." And just down the road we found a place to light for the night. No amenities, of course, but we did face a fantastic view of mountains and Lake McDonald. Not bad for a Lifetime Park Pass and $6.00/night.

    Before getting situated at Apgar, we tested The Pickle by climbing to St. Mary on the east side of the park on Hwy. 89. "She" performed admirably, chugging up and over the long pass of curves and drop-offs. Michael was pleased with his latest carb-tweaking job - this time to lean out the gas on the primary jets.
     Tuesday, our full day at the Park, was spent driving on the part of the Going to the Sun Road that was still open and then driving back east on Hwy. 2 to take in the scenery one more time. Fog had settled in that morning, so our photo shoots were hindered a bit until 2 or 3 in the afternoon when the clouds lifted and the mountains were unveiled.
    This was our first time seeing Glacier in October. We were astounded by the golden garb of the deciduous larch tamarack trees. Mixed with the dark greens of pines and cedars, the steep hillsides of northwestern Montana are breathtaking.

 

Pepi atop St. Mary's Pass

 

                                        

Off-the-Grid

Whoa! We've been off- the- grid, out- of- the- loop and incommunicado for a few days. That means no cell phone service in the National Forest campgrounds we squatted in across northern Montana and Idaho, and few places along the way to stop to hook into wifi, at least not at times when it was convenient for us. You can imagine my excitement when we got to Leavenworth, Washington, and I had FIVE bars on my phone. Right now we're doing laundry at Just Plain Laundry in Plain, WA, and conveniently, the wifi from the neighboring hardware store stretches over here so I can keep track of washers while I'm updating. I feel like we've reentered civilization, and it is good.  We camped last night at Lake Wenatchee State Park just a few miles from this little town situated in the southern Cascades, just off Hwy. 2. We will stay put for another night so we can get caught up on a few things.

 

 Montana

When driving across central Montana through the Judith Basin that lies between the Little Belt Mountains to the south, the Highwood Mtns. to the west, and the Judith Mtns. to the east, one is compelled to think of synonyms
for the word VAST:
panoramic, extensive, expansive, sweeping, limitless, boundless

  All of them apply.

 

 

Last Sunday (20th) we stopped for a break from all the immensity in the little town of Stanford. It's the county seat of Russell County, named after the artist of the Wild West, Charles Russell. Stanford's main street was decked out in Fall/Halloween displays. Not many people around or businesses open - it was Sunday afternoon - but there was some activity at the Pump House, the local tavern and adjoining restaurant. A local greeted us with, "It's a beautiful day in the Basin!" Indeed, it was. Breezy, with a chill, but sunny and cloudless.  

  

 



Teddy Roosevelt

 We arrived at the southern entrance to Theodore Roosevelt National Park on the first day it was open after the government shutdown. From the little westernized tourist town of Medora (named for the wife of a French marquis who was
 a cattle baron in the late 1800s,) we climbed up into the North Dakota Badlands to Cottonwood Campground. Two other sites were occupied.  The campground is rustic this time of year. The running water and flush toilets had been turned off for the winter. Even in the summer there are no electric hook-ups in the park, but we had recently "dumped and pumped" and our 12-volt system was in order so we were good to go for at least two nights.

 

 

Highlights of our 2-night Stay

 

A pre-sunset drive in the Volvo through part of the park. Mule deer abounded at that time of the day (crepuscular, Don?) Prairie dogs scampered, and we saw one large buffalo ambling over a ridge. The almost full moon, just risen, was framed between two buttes.

 

COLD! That first night especially - 25ish and breezy. Our furnace and blankets kept us snug. Nina at our feet helped, too.

 

Friday's drive: A complete tour showed us the full range of these North Dakota Badlands, along with a herd (25 or 30 at least) of bison, three wild horses, many magpies, and, of course, a multitude of prairie dogs. The wind was biting cold making the warmth of the Volvo ever so inviting after our photo shoots and short hikes.

 

 

 

                               

                                                                

       Before leaving the park Saturday morning, Michael took some time to "fiddle" with the carburetor, an almost daily activity. He's attempting to find that magic adjustment that will lessen the blow to our trip fund and our allegiance to the fossil fuel industry.  A tweak here, a tweak there to give us another mile per gallon. Didn't I say every drive is a test drive??

 

 





North Dakota - Discover the Spirit

Wednesday, the 16th, we visited my birthplace - Litchville, N. Dak. My father was pastor of a Reformed Church there from 1950 - 1957. Since I was barely six when we moved away, my memories of the tiny town of 200 ("More or less" as the town sign says) are sketchy at best. It didn't take a long time, however, to just drive around until we found the church and parsonage on the edge of the village. Amazingly, they looked about the same to me - even the inside of the church, although the little partitioned Sunday School room in the basement that I remember was no longer there. The three-story school building a  couple of blocks away looked very much the same, too,  minus the tubular fire escape on one side.

Stream & foot bridge - L. Yellowstone

Not far from Litchville is Little Yellowstone Park, an occasional picnic spot for my family when we lived in the area. The small stream that gurgles through the shady park provided a wading spot on hot days, but at home in Michigan, I have a little black and white photo taken of me when I was about 2 years old, at Little Yellowstone, wearing a camel hair coat. We must also have gone there 60 years ago on days when it was as chilly as it was this time. 

Pyramid Hill near Fort Ransom -
Built by ancient Tewackonians??
A Viking statue sits atop -
 not so ancient.

    Our campsite that night was at Fort Ransom State Park, 15 miles or so from Litchville. It's a small campground and we had our choice of sites since we were the only campers there. We chose the site nearest the Sheyenne River with still-red sumac growing nearby. Surprise find --- a working pay phone on the campground community board. The campground is named for the cavalry fort that existed nearby for a few years in the late 1870s.
     The landscape in central North Dakota in mid-October is an orchestra of monotones: straw -colored corn, grayed-out rusty oak leaves, grasses in ditches and wetlands in shades of brown, sienna, and tinges of red. The beauty of the landscape lies in its peaceful sameness.

 

Picking corn, hunting pheasants - it's fall in Iowa.

We spent the weekend in Estherville  at Michael's brother's, parked in his driveway, enjoying Dean and Linda's hospitality.
Our drive down from the cities on a sunny (but windy - what kind of gas mileage does a GMC get in a strong                                            headwind?) Saturday morning gave us a front seat look at  Midwest farming in action.

Get this --Estherville, Iowa has a claim to fame!
It's the place where, in 1879,
a large meteorite fell to earth.
It's one of the largest recorded meteorites
known to have landed in the world.

Tomorrow we say good-bye to Nina's new friend, Precious, and her family to head north and west.

And We're Off!

         Meet Pepe, our very green alligator who is going along for the ride in The Pickle. Pepe is short for pepenillo, a Spanish word for pickle. (Sometimes we just think of him as Peppy.) You'll probably see a lot more of Pepe in future blogs so credit for Pepe's presence goes to friends Ron & Michelle Edwards, who thought he would make a fitting stowaway.

         Anyway we've completed Day 2 of our westward migration. Our first night (last night) was spent at Indian Lake State Park near Manistique, MI, in the UP. We pulled in around 5:30 and after a walk around the campground loop, were able to catch a beautiful sunset over the panoramic lake while chicken was cooking on the grill - a satisfying end to a stunningly beautiful drive along Lake Michigan on Hwy. 2.

       Weatherwise, however, today topped that, coming in at a perfect fall day. Perfect for driving on tree-lined 2 through Iron Mountain and into Wisconsin on 70. Of course we had to check out one of several National Forest campgrounds along the way, just on the chance that we could snag an inexpensive campsite for the night. Alas, after eight miles on a winding, gold-drenched pathway, we were halted by a barricade and "Campground Closed" sign. Besides enjoying the great scenery though, Michael had a chance to test his backing-up skills. Going in reverse was the only way out of a dead end situation, and, with a bit of maneuvering, neither the GMC nor the towed Volvo ended up in the ditch. Success all around! We are now camped at a private campground on Big Germain Lake outside of St. Germain. If you are looking for quiet, this is the place to be.

Nina and Pepe, Captain & First Mate.

Sunny or Cloudy

      Four years ago Michael found our GMC for sale. It was in good condition. It worked. It was in our price range. At the time, Michael had been retired for a year. I knew I still had a few years of teaching in front of me before retiring, but I also knew our retirement years were on the horizon. Our thoughts: We could spend those golden years traveling --- in an old RV! We bought it and dubbed it "The Pickle."

 

    Fast forward to today. I'm now retired and we still have the GMC.  Following this admittedly thin line of logic, we decided it was time to plan the big trip that would justify the Green Machine's purchase. How big? Well, three years ago Michael and I drove the Incredible Hulk around the northern edge of Lake Superior, veering west from Minnesota to Corsica, South Dakota, to attend my family reunion before returning to Michigan.

Two years ago Michael (and Nina) journeyed to Du Quoin, IL, to the National GMC Convention, and last summer, we, with the help of some good friends, babied the rig to Sedalia, MO.(It was 106 degrees! Really! Oh, where can we find some unpolluted-non-ethanol gas?)  We were towing a 4,000 lb.trailer containing two motorcycles and an air conditioner to attend the National BMW Motorcycle Meet.

 

Obviously, our retirement trip needed to be bigger, yes, AND it needed to save us from another Michigan winter.

                                                                     

     Suddenly we were telling everyone we talked with about the trip, and curiously, it seemed to take on a life of its own. The words "West 'til we run out of land and then south 'til we hit water" became Michael's mantra. He mapped, he Google Earthed, and he came up with a route. So it was set and it felt right to have an adventure to anticipate and prepare for.

 

     As summer waned, we set a departure date, and as we have gotten closer to that date, we've wavered between two distinct emotions. Dread (when I think of our trip's potential catastrophes and side-of-the-road breakdowns) and eager anticipation (when I am confident of the unfolding eventualities of adventure.)

   Looming or promising.

   Apprehensive or optimistic.

   Cloudy or sunny.

  Four days to go!! Clouds are lifting!!