Midnight Madness Reprise on Going to the Sun

Last night the weather was perfect, albeit a little cold, for a last midnight bike ride up Going to the Sun. This time I started at the Avalanche parking lot, hoping that I would see others and have some bear scaring company for the first part of the hill climb. Unfortunately it wasn't to be, so I headed out solo at around 11 pm, with late fall clothing. I was wearing thermal tops and bottoms, my jacket, hat and gloves, and I really needed every stitch of clothing, since it got really cold.

Before the tunnel I encountered a frantic man looking for his wife who started the hill climb from the other side at 7:30. He stopped me to ask if I had seen a woman riding solo, and told me that he was deathly afraid of heights. Fortunately just as I took off again, she showed up. She miscalculated when the moon would be high.

The moonlight wasn't quite as bright as on Tuesday, but it was still an amazing thing to see the celestial high beams come on as I turned a corner. It's both eerie and serene to ride this hill in the moonlight.

Last night I encountered around 20 cyclists going from east to west and less than 10 going in my direction. I was significantly less nervous, and the climb was uneventful except for a few clueless drivers who forgot to turn off their high beams.

I had two animal sightings last night, both in the car. On the way to Avalanche I spotted a bear cub near the water, and on the way back to the campground just before 2 am I saw a fox in the middle of the road. What a beautiful creature!

Today we're taking the shuttle to Logan Pass and will be attempting the high line trail. Gail is gung ho about testing her limits, but I promised that we'd turn around if she had mixed feelings. It's another beautiful day at Glacier, and that's lucky because it's our last day here. Tomorrow it's off to Sheridan, Wyoming.

Glacier continued: whitewater rafting and Avalanche Lake

We're really getting into the Glacier groove now, and yesterday was the big splurge of the vacation. We had to choose between horseback riding and white water rafting. We chose the latter, and  unanimously feel that we made the right choice. Leo was more than a little bit worried at the start, but after plenty of reassurances he quickly got into the spirit of it. We glided down the middle fork of the Flathead river and encountered some exciting rapids along the way. At one point I was launched right out of the boat, but no harm was done. Matt, our terrific guide and all-around renaissance man quickly yanked me right back into the boat, though I really wanted to climb in unassisted. I guess Matt was a little worried about the giant rock that we were about to collide with. Matt has been leading whitewater rafting adventures for more than 15 years, works as a carpenter, and does large format photography. He is currently studying to be a bush pilot, so he really has a lot going on.

By the end of our adventure Leo was screaming more out of joy than fear, and was regularly calling for paddle high-fives. It was great to see the way he grew in self-confidence, and we've been seeing this pattern quite a bit with our boys as we have faced minor adversities and somewhat challenging hikes. There's no question that the boys have been benefiting in many ways from our great adventure, and now they can speak at length about what they learned about each National Park that we've visited, thanks to the junior ranger programs and all of the helpful rangers and signage.

Today we hiked the lovely and quite popular Avalanche Lake trail, and were rewarded with stunning views of mountain waterfalls and glaciers. The hike started off with temperatures in the 40s and heavy clouds and fog. By the time we reached the lake, the sun was breaking through the low-hanging clouds and the views were amazing. I couldn't help but think about the 19-year old hiker and Lake McDonald seasonal worker who has been missing for over a week now. Over 50 people have been searching for him on foot, with helicopters, and with high-tech infrared equipment to no avail. I can't imagine what his family is going through, and hope that a miracle occurs, though at this point it doesn't look good at all. We see his face on posters everywhere. He was travelling from Logan Pass, bushwhacking down to Avalanche lake by himself.

As we come to the end of our Glacier visit, it's finally time to do our giant load of laundry and plan for our next drive on Sunday, which will probably land us in Sheridan, Wyoming. I kind of like these quiet afternoons. Hopefully the clouds will clear and I'll have one last go at Going to the Sun road tonight, this time starting from Avalanche.

Glacier Paradise

Gail writes:
Glacier National Park is certainly a breathtaking place. The views of the mountains from our campsite across Lake McDonald are lovely, and the water is bracingly cold. Yesterday we took the shuttle up to Logan Pass. The Park Service is really encouraging use of the shuttle, since Going To The Sun Road is undergoing construction and they’re trying to minimize traffic. The shuttle driver was knowledgeable and provided good commentary on the way up. I’m sure the road is stunningly beautiful (Armin & the boys told me so), but I spent most of the ride studiously examining the seat in front of me and the rocks on the mountainside. I sneaked a few peeks at the sheer drops on the roadside and had to shut my eyes.

I was glad when we reached the top and had our feet on solid ground. We did a 3-mile hike that was one of our most challenging because of the snowy conditions. The boys absolutely LOVED the fact that it was the end of July and they could throw snowballs at each other. We slipped and slid on the snowfields and were rewarded by a close-up look at a mother and baby pair of mountain goats. They were not more than 5 feet away from us, calmly munching on grass. The father goat tried to join them, but the mother gave him a stern warning to keep his distance. We hiked past them to the Hidden Lake overlook, where we enjoyed the spectacular views. On the way back, we saw the goats again. This time they were lying on the snowpack, licking at the snow. A crowd had gathered to watch and take pictures, and everyone was very amused.

The shuttle trip down was a bit slow, and we finally got back to our campsite at around 5. We made a tasty dinner and then headed out to the amphitheater for the evening program. Usually it’s a ranger talk, but this time we were in for something different. It was a one-woman play by an actress from Boston who portrayed early settler Josephine Doody, a working girl who certainly had some wild times in the late 1800s-early 1900s. She spent some time addicted to opium before she got straight and became a bootlegger. The play was very entertaining, and I learned a lot about the struggles of life on the frontier.

Armin set out after the program for his midnight bike ride. I was glad when he came home safe and sound at 2:30 this morning!

We had a leisurely morning before we set out to find a hike that a ranger had recommended. It started at a little-visited area of the park, near the town of Polebridge. The ranger had told us that there’s a good bakery in Polebridge, so I was excited. The town is miniscule—barely more than a wide place in the road. But it boasts the Polebridge Mercantile, a store/bakery that’s been on site for nearly 100 years. We enjoyed huckleberry bearclaws, brownies, and cinnamon rolls, all of which were made from scratch and very tasty. Next door to the store was a saloon/restaurant. The menu even featured a quinoa salad and vegan burrito! There was a poster for an upcoming show at the outdoor stage, and another poster at the store invited folks to meet on the porch for an ongoing discussion of Plato’s works. What a trip! I wanted to hang out there all day, eating pastry, people-watching, and maybe enjoying some quinoa salad.

We tore ourselves away and headed out to find our hike. We couldn’t find the one we wanted, but then found another trailhead and had a short (2.4 mile) meadow hike that was just full of butterflies.

We’ve made reservations for a whitewater raft ride tomorrow. I’m really stretching the edges of my comfort zone for this activity, but everyone else is up for it. I’m sure the guides will make sure that everyone is safe and sound—you’ll get the full report tomorrow.

As our time in Glacier dwindles, we’re starting to make plans for the drive home. We’d budgeted 10 days to get back to Ithaca, but I think we’re going to push it and get home sooner. The boys are itching to see Poe and their friends, so they’re willing to have some long driving days. We’ll leave here on Sunday and aim to be home on Friday. We’ll be road-weary but glad to see our yellow and red house.

Going to the Sun Road midnight moonlit hillclimb

The weather has been perfect here at Glacier, and even though July 31 wasn’t the full moon, I decided that it was close enough to do my first moonlit Going to the Sun hill climb since the last time 21 years ago, just before I met Gail. I was incredibly nervous and filled with self-doubt in the hours leading up to last night’s ride. The climb itself isn’t dangerous, but it takes on a completely different dimension at night. There’s wildlife, illumination, and the road construction to take into consideration, as well as dipping temperatures and sheer drop-offs.

I arrived at Lake McDonald Lodge at 10 pm. The lodge is 21 miles and 3,430 vertical feet away from the Logan Pass summit and my turnaround point. I nervously took inventory of my gear and waited for other cyclists to show up. Surely there would be others on such a perfect night.

In addition to the leg warmers that I wore for the whole ride, I packed arm warmers and lightweight winter cycling gloves, as well as an additional long-sleeved layer. For illumination I had my trusty Cat Eye Opticube headlamp and a blinky taillight. I took two spare tubes and a Clif bar, and wore my clear bike glasses and favorite wool socks.

At 10:55 I still didn’t see any cyclists approaching, but was hopeful that maybe there were others who started further up by Avalanche, so I hit the road. The moon was bright and was finally above the tall pines, so I thought there would be plenty of moonlight to guide me for the first 11 flat miles, but I was very much mistaken. This section of road is densely forested so the moonlight was largely obscured. A number of cars were passing me west-bound, and at least two of them didn’t switch off their high beams, which was more than a little scary, since I had a hard time seeing where the shoulder was. My biggest concern at this stretch was an unwelcome chance encounter on some bears, but fortunately I saw no wildlife until later.

After Avalanche was startled by what I thought to be a bright headlight from a car. I turned around and instead saw an awe-inspiring moon illuminating the road brilliantly, and my spirits soared. From that point forward I had ample moonlight, and in fact I set my light to its low setting so that moonlight would be my primary source of light for the rest of the trip.

Shortly after Avalanche the climb really started, and the average grade for the 11 miles to the summit was 5.3%, a very manageable climb. Just past the only tunnel, I passed a couple on mountain bikes, which buoyed my spirits. They started at Avalanche, so I figured that there might be others.

As I passed The Loop, the only switchback on the west side of the pass, I noticed a bunch of people in the parking lot as well as some other cyclists, so I was hopeful that I would encounter others. My next encounter was with wildlife—a mountain goat was nibbling grass on the edge of the cliff, but skittered down the mountain as soon has it heard me.

Next up was the road construction, and the road surface went from smooth pavement to hard-packed dirt. The dirt sections were completely manageable for the ascent, though they proved a bit trickier on the descent. There were sections where the road narrowed to one lane and I encountered a few ridiculous traffic lights on long timers. Dear reader, you might guess what I did.

With about 2,000’ to go, I encountered a lively group riding at a leisurely pace. It was a party on wheels, with about ten cyclists having a blast, listening to music and joking around. I think I scared some of them as I passed, though I tried to made sufficient noise. It felt good to occupy the whole road for a minute, but I wanted to continue at my pace to the summit.

The rest of the climb was serene and uneventful, as the sky got ever brighter in the other-worldly moonlit mountain range. The summit was a bit anti-climatic, and after a quick minute break to eat my Clif bar, I headed back down, this time with arm warmers on, since it was getting much cooler. When I reached the big group, I turned around to join them for a short bit. They were from Kalispell, and even though they had to work in the morning, they were really enjoying their adventure. This group started at The Loop, so their climb was a bit shorter. They had some good advice about how to find others for a possible second time up the mountain and were exceedingly friendly and filled with good cheer.

The descent was very slow—my mantra was that it’s better that it’s a slow descent than my last descent. Managing the road construction was much tougher on the descent, and I was riding the brakes quite a bit, which left my shoulder and neck muscles really tense. I was actually relieved when the road finally leveled out, and just powered my way back to the safety of the car.

On the way back to the campground, I stopped by Apgar Village briefly to upload my ride to Strava. I was pleasantly surprised that I snagged the KOM for the HC climb, and with that happy thought I hopped into the tent at around 2:30 am in hopes of getting a little sleep before the morning arrived. I hope to do the climb one more time, maybe on Thursday starting from Avalanche.

Missoula to Glacier

We've finally landed at Glacier, a place that is very near and dear to me. This is my fourth visit, and we look forward to our week's worth of adventure here. Evidently the summer weather here has been a bit unsettled. A few weeks ago there was a massive mudslide that blocked Going to the Sun Road somewhere near Logan's Pass, so the road was closed for a while, but it's open again. Also, there is road construction west of the Continental Divide (chip seal road work or something), which is actually good news. It means that there are free shuttles running every 30 minutes, so we will be driving very little while in the park. Today we'll make our way via shuttle to the top and do some short hiking. 

Yesterday I spent a little time cleaning my bike's drivetrain and getting ready for riding the Going to the Sun Road at midnight, hopefully more than once. 

Climbing under a full moon back in 1991 was one of my most lasting memories, and I’ve been so looking forward to repeating it. Maybe I’ll go tonight, but if not, definitely on Wednesday.

The Fish Creek Campground has a swimming area on Lake McDonald right across from our site, and the view there is sumptuous. That’s the best place to be at the campground, especially since the mosquitos are unrelenting in this very heavily wooded campground. Gail was fairly miserable last night, but hopefully we’ll find a way of defeating them or at least ignoring them as much as possible.

On our way to Glacier we drove through Kalispell and Whitefish, two more cities which seem to have grown almost exponentially since I last passed through nearly 20 years ago. The tourist industry in northwestern Montana sure has matured…Whitefish is building its downtown like crazy, with an abundance of overpriced restaurants and tourist attractions, but we still managed to find a great and inexpensive pizza joint. We also visited Glacier Cyclery, where both boys got nice souvenirs. Leo really wanted a cool Going to the Sun jersey, but unfortunately they had no kid sizes. He did wind up with a women’s size Pearl Izumi jersey which he loves and is not likely to take off for a long time. He’s convinced that it makes him ride faster, and judging by how he was tearing around the campground last night, I think he’s right. Toby got some cycling sunglasses that fit him nicely, and he is quite pleased with how he spent the last of his souvenir cash.  I was sad to see that they retired my favorite jersey design, and wasn’t prepared to shell out $130 for a long-sleeved Merino wool jersey, even though it was just the thing I’m missing from my cycling wardrobe.

Images to follow soon…down to one bar of signal.

Yellowstone camping recipe

Gail writes:

Yellowstone is a big place. You don’t quite realize that until you’ve driven around for about 7 hours and covered a fraction of the territory (as a point of reference, that’s almost as long as it takes to drive from Ithaca to NYC and back). That pretty much sums up today. We left camp at around 9:30 and drove around to various hot springs and viewpoints. We lunched at Mammoth Hot Springs (where we got to say hello to a pretty grey housecat whose family was moving from Wisconsin to Nevada) and then walked a bit until thunder and lightning sent us scurrying back to the Visitor Center. After things cleared we went to Boiling River, where Armin & the boys soaked in the hot/cold waters.

Then we headed back to camp, and from here on in I offer up a recipe for camping adventure & dinner:





1. Arrive at camp to find winds gusting to 40 mph and thunder rumbling in the distance. Re-stake the tent as it tries to get airborne. Order everyone into the tent to hold it down. Read while it rains and rumbles.




2. Once the wind dies down and the rain is manageable, drag your cooler, stove, and kitchen boxes out of the car to start dinner. Open that bottle of wine you bought in the Grand Tetons and pour it into the fine plastic cups you brought with you.




3. Use 1 burner of your stove to make mac-n-cheese for the boys. On the other burner, start sautéing sweet potato and corn with some salsa. Add rice and water. Simmer. Drink more wine. Open the tortilla chip bag that is puffy because of the altitude. Munch on them and wait a while.




4. Add a can of drained black beans to the sweet potato mixture. Simmer some more until everything’s done. Serve up the boys’ mac-n-cheese, drink some more wine, and rummage in the cooler for the artisanal multigrain tortillas. Juggle things on the burners so you can heat them up. Watch your boys have a pinecone war with some kids from New Jersey. Pull up your raincoat hood against the next round of rain and enjoy a delicious burrito. Stamp your feet at the ground squirrels that want to eat your food. Finish the bottle of wine. Let the guys do the dishes while you blog.




5. Watch the sun come out over the mountains and put away the cooler, stove, and kitchen boxes so the ground squirrels and bears won’t get into them. Take a deep breath of cool mountain air and realize how lucky you are to be on this adventure with the people you love most in the world.

Armin writes:
The drive to Mammoth made it abundantly clear that heading north on the bike out of the Madison campground would have been a terrible idea. In addition to the endless stream of campers and RVs suddenly pulling off to view wildlife or make a sudden decision to visit a thermal area or waterfall, the road is under construction right now. Chip seal road work is very annoying, especially when there is loose gravel for about 30 miles, so I headed west on the flat-ish road to West Yellowstone. 

I was overjoyed to see the "Welcome to Montana" road sign, since Montana is my favorite state. West Yellowstone is a tiny park border town, and the ample signage advertising lodging and food had me imagining a focus group that was asked to identify the most appealing words for weary campers. My incomplete list includes:

Espresso
Internet
Showers
Hot Tub
Pizza
Gift Shop
Wildlife

Sunday afternoon update:

The list was much longer yesterday, but now I'm just exhausted and happy to be safely in a Missoula motel. We stopped for a nice lunch in Butte, Mt., and while waiting at a stop sign behind the sheriff of Butte, he decided that he was too far into the intersection and backed right into our van, in spite of the fact that I was laying on the horn. How could he not have seen or heard us? Perhaps he had is Lady Gaga CD turned up too loud. I didn't have enough time to throw the van into reverse, and was extremely bummed out about the bumper and body work damage. Fortunately the damage was cosmetic, and we were able to continue our journey to Missoula. You can bet, though, that if I lived in Butte, I certainly would not be voting for Sheriff John Walsh in his re-election bid.

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Animals

We have ran into many animals on our First and second days in Yellowstone. I managed to photograph a few, including a bison hanging out in the general store parking lot