Month: June 2023

One thing we love doing after a long day in Glacier is stopping for dinner somewhere on the way home. Not only is it fun to eat out, everyone’s generally tired from hiking and soaking in the sun. On our latest expedition to the Park, we planned to go to a place called Gunsight Saloon in Columbia Falls. It’s (mostly) on the road home, and they have good food. Plus, they’re open until 10.

We headed out of the park around 8:30, but unfortunately we ran into road construction along Lake McDonald. We were stopped for about forty minutes– which we made the most of by climbing out of the car and down to the shoreline, where we skipped rocks and enjoyed the cool water for a while. But it meant we’d be arriving at the restaurant around 9:40, which is uncomfortably near closing time. We didn’t want to be “those people”, so we looked for other food options along our route. Not much was open.

Except… Packer’s Roost. It was listed as a bar and grill, their menu looked solid, and they were open until two in the morning or some other ridiculous hour. Oh, and it was literally right off the highway we’d be driving. Deal!

We pulled up and immediately realized it was more bar than grill. Biker bar, to be exact. It was dimly-lit and the crowd looked a bit… rough. We had young kids with us, but they were hungry (and grumpy) so we figured as long as no one insulted someone’s Harley we’d be fine. We sat down, flagged down the sole waitress (not an easy task), and placed our order.

Then we waited. Some bar patrons played the slot machines next to our table; one older woman explained how they worked to ten-year-old Sebastian as she pumped her Social Security income into the machine. We waited some more. People came and went. The bar was filling up. A few people sitting there were obviously drunk. We waited. Some guy was hitting on some woman, but she didn’t seem interested. More waiting.

We took a group selfie to pass the time.

Still waiting. There was only a single waitress, and a single cook, and I honestly believe they were doing their best. Generally speaking, I’d guess that a bunch of half-drunk people in a dive bar at 11pm don’t care much how long their food takes to make. We, on the other hand, were getting pretty frustrated. It had been almost an hour and a half when our plates were finally delivered.

The food was good, but lukewarm at best. I’m pretty sure it had been sitting on the counter for a good ten minutes before it was brought out to us. By that time, the younger kids weren’t even interested in eating; they just wanted to sleep.

We arrived back home well after midnight. We agreed it would’ve been better to just skip the bar, come home, and either eat a little bedtime snack or just forego food entirely and hit the hay. On the other hand, we were all joking about how we ended up in a biker bar at midnight eating barely-warm food. Good times.

On a side note, when I told the story to a friend of mine the next day, he was incredulous. “You brought your friends and their family to Packer’s Roost? At midnight?” I guess that’s not recommended. But we all survived and have a good story to tell. All’s well that ends well, I guess.

Naturally the Campbells wanted to visit Glacier. It’s a given that our guests– whoever they are and whenever they visit– want to go up to the park. Fortunately we love it too, so we bundled everyone into the cars and drove north. We ended up visiting the park twice during their stay, because it’s hard to fit everything into a single day.

Because it’s still June, wildfire season hasn’t begun in earnest and the views were clear. The drive up Going-to-the-Sun Road never disappoints.

As we neared the high point of the road, at Logan Pass, we saw a flurry of snow on a huge, steep hillside of snow and ice. We thought it might be a mini-avalanche, with some snow and rock rolling down the incline. It turned out to be two mountain goats! I guess they didn’t have a better (or faster?) way down the hill, so they just rolled and slid. Once they arrived at the bottom, they picked themselves up, shook off the snow, and sauntered along like nothing had happened. One of them walked right past our car as we waited for them to clear the road.

We spent some time enjoying lunch on the shore of St Mary Lake, which is always beautiful.

Following that, we went to St Mary Falls. For most of the Campbells’ stay, their ten-year-old son Sebastian was my little companion. He was always asking me to play foosball and ping-pong and spikeball with him, or to use my camera to take some photos, or demanding I sit next to him at meals, or just walking alongside me on the trail. He nicknamed me “Coco” and I called him “Sparky”, and we had a good time together.

The trail isn’t beautiful at the start, but when you get to the falls the hot, exposed walk is worthwhile.

Continuing along, we passed the three other (unnamed) waterfalls along the trail.

The end of the line is Virginia Falls, which is about fifty feet high and wonderfully refreshing as it blasts cool air and misty water on all of our hot, dusty bodies.

Just below Virginia Falls is a cascade, and I managed to get a good shot of it.

Here’s the full shot from a little distance down the creek:

This has become one of our go-to hikes for visitors, and one of our favorites in Glacier.

After a long day of hiking and stopping at a bunch of spots, the kids were pretty tired. On our way out of the park, we were rewarded with a gorgeous rainbow (actually a double rainbow, if you look closely enough).

What a way to end another glorious day.

We’ve taken to recommending Holland Lake (and the accompanying Holland Falls) to our friends when they visit. It’s a bit of a drive, but the hike is relatively easy and the view is spectacular. We trekked up the trail today and were rewarded with a refreshing cool mist after the last half mile of hot, rocky gravel.

Of course you have to celebrate at the top, overlooking the lake.

As usual, there were a couple of chipmunks darting around the rocks. Most people stop for a snack, and the chipmunks know they can get some crumbs.

Although the sky was cloudy, the water was really still and made for some great shots.

Another good day at Holland!

On the way to Glacier National Park, there’s a roadside tourist attraction called the Montana Vortex (also known as the House of Mystery). There are signs all over the area, with catchy slogans like “Amazing!” and “Fun!”. Despite passing it every time we head to Glacier, we’ve never stopped. Well, the Campbells said they enjoy seeing wacky tourist attractions on their trips, so we all agreed to give the Vortex a shot.

The massive sign out front is breathtaking, especially since up close it’s clear this is a wall-size print of a poorly-edited JPEG.

Our guide was Matt, who was very enthusiastic about the incredible, unexplained phenomena created by the Vortex. He mentioned “quantum physics” more times than I can count, apparently as a way to not only lend credence to the “theories” about the Vortex, but also as a way to basically hand-wave away any questions we might have.

The Vortex, we learned, is one of several in the western United States. In fact, there are three separate vortices right on this spot! The largest one is 216 feet in diameter, with the smaller ones measuring 72 and 54 feet across, respectively. (How does one measure the size of a vortex?) You’ll notice 72 and 54 divide evenly into 216, which is evidently a magic, mystical number occurring frequently in things like this. Two other vortices in California are 216 miles apart. There are 21,600 arc seconds in a circle. Amazing!

One of the unexplained phenomena caused by the Vortex is people shrinking and growing relative to one another. To demonstrate this, Matt asked some people to stand on either end of a little concrete slab. Here are Eliza and Murren facing each other. Note that Eliza (on the left) is taller than her sister.

Because the energy lines of the Vortex cut through the slab (notice the blue line painted just in front of Murren’s feet), these two women are actually in separate universes. When they switch places…

It’s incredible! Now Murren is taller! Energy lines! Quantum physics!

After this, we entered the main attraction at the Vortex: the House of Mystery. It’s in the background of the photos above, and is basically a ramshackle shed built on the side of a hill at an 18-degree angle. When you walk inside, you feel a little dizzy because everything is so slanted. What I’d chalk up to disorientation between what you see (the inside of a house) and what you feel (gravity pulling at 18 degrees from perpendicular), Matt chalked up to the effects of the Vortex. It turns out the Vortex is centered in the house, right inside this circle they’ve conveniently drawn on the floor:

It makes for some fun photographs, anyway. We all took turns standing in the circle, closing our eyes, clearing our thoughts, and feeling the Vortex swirl through us.

Later, Matt asked the group if we could tell which direction the Vortex swirls. I said it was clearly counterclockwise, and I was correct! It’s probably because I took an Electricity and Magnetism course in college, and know the Right Hand Rule about current flow and magnetic fields:

Once we were all a bit dizzy from the House of Mystery, we stepped outside where Matt directed our attention to several trees that were growing in strange shapes:

As any student of the Vortex and its mysteries could tell you, this is obviously because they’re in the energy field. Fortunately for us, at one of the “nodal points” of the energy field is a Healing Stone. The owners of the Vortex were kind enough to place several chairs in a circle around the Healing Stone, so all of us could put our feet on it and receive healing energy (it’s important to remove shoes and socks, so the energy can flow more freely). We all agreed it looked like a smooth rock that had been painted blue, but we figured what the heck. We sat down and healed ourselves for a bit.

There were several other demonstrations of quantum physics, but we couldn’t get them to work. We were told it’s probably because our bodies are in a state of “particle being” rather than “waves”. Of course this is a reference to the famous Double-Slit Experiment which proved the wave-particle duality of photons and led to the birth of quantum mechanics. We were all a little bummed that we were too particle-y, but I guess them’s the breaks. Quantum physics is a fickle thing.

In the end, we had a good time, despite all the mumbo-jumbo about quantum physics and numerology. It also provided multiple ongoing opportunities for jokes as we spent the day together. (“Do you feel that? I think it’s a vortex!”) (“I’m pretty hungry. It’s probably because my particles aren’t wavy.”) (“Look, a tree that’s not straight. It’s probably in an energy field!”)

Like pickleball, spikeball is a “sport” that’s been gaining popularity. It’s relatively inexpensive, easy to set up, and easy to play. Since we’ll have a bunch of visitors over the summer months, we figured it might be fun to get a spikeball set.

Today was our first run. Our friends the Campbells are visiting from Colorado, and they were excited to give it a go. I look pretty good making a lunge for the ball:

Eliza and I made a good team– we worked hard to use our three allotted hits to bump/set/spike the ball.

The ladies took a turn as well.

After a few games, we organized a quick tournament. Here’s the championship round, which went to 20-20 before the guys took home the trophy.

Bottom line: we were all terrible. Terrible. Despite our efforts, it was rare to get three hits, and most of the volleys went back and forth precisely once. We’re hopeful that we’ll all improve with practice… I guess Pepper and I will find out over the next few months.

This was the sky last night, just shy of midnight. Pretty cool!

This is the third straight year I’m excited about the solstice. This northern-latitude living definitely spoils you with long days a few months each year! In keeping with the tradition we started last year, I threw an ice-cream party. We had about 70 people show up to enjoy sixteen different flavors of Tillamook, along with all the necessary toppings. We even had a contest where four people (drawn at random) competed to see who could build the tallest cone in sixty seconds. A ten-year-old girl handily beat her older competitors by constructing an absolutely massive wad of ice cream atop her sugar cone. She took home the coveted Golden Scoop as a prize.

Driving home, the clock was about to strike nine as I climbed the familiar hill on Highway 35 where the Flathead Lake lookout is. I pulled over and snapped a selfie.

Sunset wasn’t until 9:40 tonight, so there was still quite a bit of daylight to enjoy. Sixteen hours and three minutes in all today. And that’s just considering actual daylight, from sunup to sundown. When you consider “astronomical” twilight, which is a measure of true darkness, there’s only a period from 1:01 to 2:16 in the morning when it’s dark. So awesome.

In 1995, this was the best photo we had of Pluto. It’s 16×16 pixels in greyscale, captured by the Hubble Space Telescope, which at the time was the most powerful optical telescope ever built.

Twenty years later, in 2015, the New Horizons space probe took this photo of Pluto.

What’s interesting is how the first photo definitely shows a brighter area slightly right and below center. In the higher-resolution image, that’s clearly the large white area of nitrogen ice.

What’s even more interesting– to me, anyway– is the dramatic progress planetary science has made in those twenty years. There are many ways this metaphor of progress could be applied to daily life. One I like to think of is how we might view someone we don’t really know. Perhaps we meet them and chat for a few minutes, or perhaps we just see their behavior from afar. What we know of them, and the story of their life, is a grainy greyscale 16×16 pixel image. There might be a bright detail, either positive or negative, we latch onto. We might feel like we know them well enough to predict them, admire them, judge them, or condemn them.

But when we take the time to really know them, our understanding and our view of them can change radically. We can see the craters from eons of meteorite impacts. We can see the frozen, inhospitable nitrogen ice. Maybe we can imagine the cold, dark, lonely depths where they’ve been. And we can also see the color and beauty and majesty in them.

Of course we can’t get to know everyone to that degree. It may take twenty years! Yet even knowing that, sometimes I find myself looking at the low-resolution greyscale image I have of someone, and catching myself judging them. I remind myself that everyone has a story, everyone has a reason for being who they are and doing what they’ve done, and it’s unfair and short-sighted of me to think I know even a fraction of it.

Let’s all be a little more forgiving, a little more understanding, a little more caring, and a little more humble. Let’s look for the beauty.

We have lights all around the exterior of the house. They’re quite fancy, but they’re also twenty-two years old and showing their age. After twenty-two winters with snow and ice, and twenty-two summers with the sun beating down, they’re looking a little worn.

The glass broke on a couple of them, and I couldn’t find anything to match it. It wasn’t surprising– after all these years, these lights are certainly not being manufactured any more (not that I could even determine who made them, as there was no label or indication anywhere). I managed to find a couple full lights in a similar style, bought them, and replaced the broken ones.

But then I was left with a quandary: the new ones were not only a slightly different style, but a completely different color. The answer: re-paint everything in a single matching color. Not only would that conceal the mis-matched lights, it would help make everything look a little newer.

Enter four cans of “hammered” copper spray paint, many hours disassembling the twenty-odd lights, laying out the pieces, cleaning them, painting, and then re-installing everything. It was painstaking, but I think the result is nice.

Pepper tells me it’s unlikely anyone will notice, and she’s probably right. But it’s one of those little details on the house that keeps it looking good…

Our friends Bob and Nancy invited us to join them on a bike ride along the trails on Blacktail Mountain. We agreed, but then realized we haven’t been on our bikes in almost a year! They’ve been sitting quietly in the storage room, mostly because we don’t want to take them out on the highway in front of the house. As it turned out, mine had two flat tires (ugh), and both of them needed a bit of tuning. We got everything sorted and headed out on the trail.

It was a bit chilly, cloudy, and windy when we started, but as we made our way up the trail we all warmed up nicely. “Always start your hike (or ride) cool”, the saying goes. By the time we’d covered maybe ten miles, the clouds were breaking up and it was a gorgeous spring day.

In the photo above, you can see the trail winding down the mountainside in the background. I was surprised there weren’t any other people on the trail, either biking or walking. But hey, no complaints. We enjoyed our ride and eventually stopped for a quick selfie with Bob and Nancy.

Another good day to enjoy the beauty of Montana! Hopefully we can use our bikes a bit more often this year…