Great Falls to East Glacier

I’m posting this a bit late due to the lack of internet service at our lodging in East Glacier  Park, MT.  We're in a pretty remote area in northwest Montana and we booked our lodging at the last minute, so it’s no great surprise that we don't have internet.  Probably could have set up a cellular hot spot, but I'm not sure even that would have worked.  So, I'll write this in Word and copy it to the Blog when I have service.  I know, TMI.

The ride today was a short one...maybe 150 miles or so...but it was a great one.  We departed the Hampton Inn around 10:00AM under bright blue skies and temps around 50F.  I had my Gerbing electric liner cranked up and was very comfortable.  With the brilliant Montana morning sun at our backs, we hopped on I-15 and after a dozen miles we exited onto Hwy 89 which could have taken us all the way to East Glacier, had we not taken a couple of scenic detours.

Our first detour, following a missed turn, happened just as we crossed the Sun River and took us due west on Hwy 21.  It was a scenic route through huge ranches growing wheat and grazing Black Angus cattle.  With zero traffic to deal with, we gobbled the miles as the Lewis and Clark National Forest and The Sun River Game preserve loomed ahead.

At Augusta, MT (Hwy 287) we turned north and were treated to fantastic views of the mountains to the west.  The rolling prairies leading up to the mountains were a beautiful golden brown and stood in stark contrast to the occasional lush green irrigated alfalfa fields that KC described as, “So green you can’t look at them”.

After 25 effortless miles on empty roads that ran past endless ranches, we entered the town of Choteau, MT (pronounced “Show-toe”).  KC stopped for a health break outside of town and suggested that I ride ahead and scout out a pharmacy for something (he’s trying like hell to catch a cold).  I found an old Rexall Drug store on Main Street...echo's of 1950 and texted the info to KC.  The pharmacist gave him something that KC had to sign for and advised him that “its what they use to make Meth”.  Gee, I can see the national ad campaign now..."If its good enough to make Meth, just think what it can do for your runny nose.”

After locating the pharmacy, I went on to get fuel, a quick gas station lunch and found (BONUS!!!!!!) a sticker outlet.  I am, as KC has told anyone who’ll listen, a “Sticker Queer”.  Guilty.  My sticker collection is a source of some pride (for me) and a fair amount of ridicule (from KC), but mostly serves as a reminder of where I've been.  I love the artwork in some and the variety of styles they come in.  Displayed on my BMW panniers, I think they look very cool.

It was obvious by now that we were on a Blackfeet Indian Reservation with all of the depressing characteristics one expects to see in these places.  At the gas station "food court" I sat a table away from a Native American woman wearing dark sunglasses.  For 20 minutes I observed her sitting motionless and expressionless, with her mouth halfway open.  The entry from my journal reads, "unremorseful mouthbreather".  Her lower lip pouted outward, exposing her bottom teeth.  I tried to look around the edge of her sunglasses for a sign of life, but I think her eyes were closed.    For no apparent reason, she slowly stood up and shuffled across the width of the store and out the front door.  If I was her father, I’d have named her “Breathes Through Mouth”.

While riding on Hwy 89 north of Choteau I began studying my Butler Motorcycle Map of Montana and noticed some roads to our west that appeared to get us where we were going, but in a meandering and less direct manner, while doing so right at the base of the mountains...exactly the kind of thing that touring motorcyclists love to discover.  Over the intercom, KC and I began discussing the possibility of making a second detour.  We weren’t sure if the roads would be paved or gravel, but agreed we should try it and if things turned to crap we could always go back.

Turned out to be a great decision.  About 10 miles north of Dupuyer, MT, just past the Broken Pick Ranch (I gots dem ole broken pick blues), we took a left turn on to a great paved road that wound through more ranch land and, indeed, brought us to the eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains, which rose abruptly...straight up, no foothills here.

After a hard right onto the “George Duffy Comes at Night, Jr. Memorial Highway” (apparently old George was something of a night owl), we went through more gorgeous prairie land with the Bob Marshall Wilderness Area just off my left elbow.  Passing through Heart Butte, MT the road became more winding and hilly, crossing a beautiful canyon that held The Medicine River.  The wind kicked up hard and from behind, KC observed that I was going straight down the road while leaning 20 degrees to the the left.  After a good 50 miles, our second detour dropped us into Browning, MT and its unmistakable Blackfeet Tribal presence.

From Browning we headed due west towards Glacier National Park after a miserable bit of road construction (which had “Motorcycle Advisory” signs at the OTHER end...not that it would have changed our plans).  Climbing the switchbacks that skirted along side Glacier National Park, we began to see glaciers clinging to pockets in the mountains and views that were ethereal.  Looking back to the east, we could see the prairie running eastward forever...I swear I could see all the way to Chicago.  The mountain peaks on the edge of nearby Glacier were extreme, black, steep, craggy, towering, immense.  I run out of words to describe them.  Like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Unfortunately, the light was not great for photos.  Hopefully we’ll have a better chance to shoot some good pics tomorrow.

Our lodging for tonight is, lets see, interesting?  It is an old fashioned motor court style of lodging.  Individual cabins with beds, heat and running water.  Unfortunately, they DO allow, no perhaps they encourage, smoking. My room reeks of cigarettes.  Can’t remember the last hotel I stayed in with an ashtray.  Having said that, I am grateful to have a warm room to spend the night.  Lucy and Ethel would have been speechless.

For dinner, we rode into town and found a Mexican restaurant called Serrano's which is situated across the street from the Amtrak train station.  While we waited for Serrano's to open, a passenger train departed from the station.  I have no idea where it was headed, but I would love to have been a passenger.

Normally Mexican food is tough to screw up and a crowded restaurant is usually a good sign.  But this chef found a way to screw my food up and I made it about one third of the way through my burrito. There was something in the spices that I objected to...but I can't say for sure what it was.  In all honesty, missing a meal is not exactly a problem for me.

Tomorrow we will ride Going-To-The-Sun Road through Glacier NP which is the grand prize for me on this entire trip.  I can’t wait.