We didn’t quite make it out of Montana our first night out of Flathead Lake. Having given ourselves the luxury of an unstructured day, we began hitching and stowing at about 3:30 in the afternoon. Then, during the pre-trip check, we discovered a low tire on the trailer. Changing it further delayed our departure. We pulled into a Forest Service campground on the Bull River just as evening fell. This was one of the few times on the Journey when we were truly disconnected, no cell signal, no internet via air card, no satellite signal, and had we wanted to stay more than just overnight, no solar charging because we were tucked away under the trees. The area was very much like our beloved Smith River in California, except that the trees were firs and pine, not coastal redwood. In the morning, the animals enjoyed exploring the campground and Noche got to romp with “Jock”, an English Springer Spaniel owned by a guy working on a project at the day use area.

The next day took us to Ponderay, near Sandpoint, Idaho where we had a very fruitful (if longer than preferred) layover. We had been in search of a fresh water source and dump station since leaving Flathead and found a very nice set up at the Bonner County Fairgrounds. Since we didn’t seem at risk of being in anyone else’s way, we stayed at the dump station while Laura showered and caught up the dishes. On our way to the Fairgrounds, we spotted a place to have the tire repaired. Laura went across the street to a nice grocery store called “Yokes” (they had really good coffee, by the way) while we waited. The tire was remounted after repairing what they thought must be a bad valve stem. Looking again, once it was at eye level on the back of the trailer, they discovered that it was bubbling through a tiny crack in the wheel itself. Now we have a new wheel that doesn’t match the rest and our wallet is a little lighter. We’ll be keeping an even closer eye on the condition of the tires from this point on. Four hours after arriving in Ponderay and fully stocked for boondocking, we got back on the road. Ironically, there were no good options for boondocking anywhere near our travel path within the time frame that we were ready to stop for the night. We located Riverside State Park outside of Spokane. Driving to it took us through congested, narrow city streets. Entering the park, we were taken aback by the prices. $30/night for a site overlooking the river with electricity and water. Welcome back to coastal pricing. Oh, and by the way… as soon as we left Montana the price of fuel jumped about 20 cents a gallon. After looking at the “premium” sites, we drove up to check out the other sites up the hill. We’re spoiled by the beautiful places that we’ve been and weren’t very impressed with what we found here. We decided to spend the money to camp by the river and were rewarded by a very active osprey nest just across from our campsite.

In the morning, we discovered that Riverside State Park was more interesting than we realized. We took the dogs for a walk across the “hanging bridge” to a connector to the Centennial Trail… a paved bike trail that runs all the way from Spokane, Washington to Coeur d’Alene Idaho. The bridge spans a rapid known as “bowl and pitcher”. There were striking, unusually shaped monoliths rising from the riverbed.

Once we got on the road, we spent some time on US 395, heading south. The last time we were on US 395, we were outside Lone Pine, CA on April 2, just a few days after we set out from Santa Cruz. Somehow, it seemed significant… crossing back into Oregon… and on a highway that had routed us away months ago. We left 395 to head west on I-84, which runs along the Oregon side of the Columbia River. Shortly, we noticed the Boardman Tree Farm. Laura had an internet signal, so she did a Google search and we learned more. Originally planted as a pulp crop, this 17,000 acres of hybrid Poplar trees is now destined to be sustainably harvested to provide a permanent source of up to 100,000 board feet of lumber each year, processed at a new sawmill built specifically for this farm.

Our overnight stop was just below John Day Dam, enjoying one of the most striking sunsets that we’ve seen. Colors that looked artificial. The dam, when illuminated, is also quite attractive from our vantage point. We hadn’t planned on boondocking but were prepared and when this option presented itself we took advantage of having systems in place. We never realized what a major transportation corridor this is. In addition to shipping traffic on the river itself, there are also very active rail lines and major highways on both the Washington and Oregon sides of the river. In the morning, while enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun, Laura spotted a sturgeon (at least 4 feet) leaping entirely out of the water. We watched this loaded barge chugging up the river with a huge smiley face on its side enter the locks at the dam and disappear behind the giant sliding door that we allow it to continue its journey.

After everyone’s needs were met, we continued on down the Columbia River Gorge. We crossed I-5 and passed through Portland. Crossing the river one more time, we felt the intensity of being in a city and were very happy that we had no need to get off the highway. Heading west on route 26, we climbed through the Coastal Range, stopping to fill our water bottles at an artesian well along the side of the road. We watched the thermometer drop down from the 70s to the upper 50s as we saw a fog bank to the south and west. That was when we knew we had arrived. Once again, we were on the Pacific Coast.

One of the benefits of pulling your home along behind you is that when the weather changes abruptly, all you have to do is dig out the winter clothes that you stored away. That served us well starting in Grand Teton. After months of shorts, tank tops, and air conditioning having traveled so far north and climbing into the mountains, we actually needed long pants and socks! Cream ‘o Wheat became the breakfast of choice.

After leaving Yellowstone, we entered Montana and made our way north. Heading out on Friday of Labor Day weekend, we had some concern about the availability of camping. To our delight, our “Free Camping” (it actually includes everything $12/night and under) book helped us locate another sweet little city-run campground. This one was in Drummond, on the banks of the Clark Fork River. It was about 5 minutes off the interstate, which sounded way better than the other options listed in the book, which were all many miles down what it described as a “rough forest service road”. There were other folks in the campground, but it wasn’t close to full, even though there are only 12 sites, and it was much nicer than a Wal-Mart parking lot for an overnighter. They charge $10/night for with no hookups and $25 if you want electricity (that’s the highest charge we’ve seen for electricity).

The next day driving took us through gorgeous mountains and along sweet lovely rivers. We stopped for a few hours in Missoula to catch up on laundry and to go in search of decent coffee. We found a very nice laundromat with wireless internet (and attached casino) adjacent to the parking lot for some government offices that were closed, which was quite convenient for parking the rig. After fixing lunch, Laura finished the laundry while I went off in the eternal quest for fresh quality coffee beans. Not very happy with the product of my efforts.

Back on the road through more beautiful mountains and other scenery. One thing that we’ve noticed is that all of the horses we see look great. Glossy and well fed, but not fat. Late in the afternoon, we arrived at Flathead Lake. Our host, Gene Presser, was an inspiration to us when we were first considering this adventure. We met him at Brannon Island Recreation Area, where he was camped with 3 dogs and a cat (sound familiar?) Gene has about 45 acres here on the lake, with a huge house that he rents out for family reunions and the like during the summer months while he stays in an Airstream trailer on the lakeshore. We set up a little ways from his trailer, on the other side of a tree, but equally as close to the water. Out our door we look at “Wild Horse Island” which is to be home to a band of Bighorn Sheep, Mule Deer, and coyotes in addition to the wild horses. On Sunday, Laura woke up feeling a bit under the weather the wind picked up with a good chance of showers, so we decided to spend our day doing things hadn’t had time for recently, like cleaning out the back of the camper and allowing the dogs some off leash time. We had a very enjoyable dinner with Gene before walking up to his rental house. A great reunion/party house with amazing views of the lake. While we were there, Gene offered up fresh veggies out of his raised bed garden. What’s better than fresh carrots, straight from the ground only moments before? Well, fresh corn on the cob, actually…but anyway… they were great.

Labor Day Monday, arguably the single best day on our journey so far. We set off from camp via canoe. Paddled across a section of the lake to Skeeko Cove on Wild Horse Island, which is part of a State Park. Beautifully clear water. As soon as we landed, we were approached by a staff person, who was very welcoming and knowledgeable. He gave us some useful information about the hiking opportunities and wildlife we might be on the lookout for. In addition to seeing numerous mule deer, we encountered a herd of big horn sheep. We expected them to be skittish and reclusive, but quite they were quite the opposite. They seemed as interested in watching us as we were in watching them. After we made our way back down the trail, we heard thundering hooves, and the next thing we knew, the sheep were a few yards away from us, with juveniles bumping heads and leaping into the air. As we reached the other side of the island, a place called Eagle Cove, Laura said that her day would be complete if she saw a bald eagle and a wild horse. A few minutes later, her bald eagle wish came true. Sadly, we didn’t see either of the horses still left on the island. In addition to the bald eagle, we spotted an osprey, a Clark’s Nutcracker, a number of Black-billed Magpies, Red Breasted Nuthatch, Flickers, some type of Chickadee, Juncos, and a juvenile woodpecker that we’ve yet to identify. The impending rain showers held off until after we got back to camp and got the dogs some outdoor time. We had soup to warm ourselves. A light rain came through, Laura went out in search of a rainbow. Not one, but two… a double rainbow. Two hours later, I looked out the window to discover an even brighter double rainbow. By the time I grabbed the camera, it was gone but I was able to get a shot of a single reflected in the lake.

On Tuesday, we spent the day at Glacier National Park, and quite a day it was. We left the trailer and bikes on the lake, giving us the ability to take the Going-to-the-Sun road, which has both length and width restrictions (once we were up there, we understood why, especially the width restriction). Our first impression, while driving along Lake MacDonald (ho hum, another world class, crystal clear lake) was that while a very beautiful area, it was similar enough to other places we enjoy to not inspire much of a “wow” response. That didn’t last too long. We rounded a turn in the road and got our first glimpse of the mountain peaks that make Glacier the special place that it is. This post wouldn’t be complete without comment on the road construction and related delays. We were stopped by flag persons 5 different times, for up to 10 minutes at a time. We were glad that we didn’t have a schedule to keep. It just gave us time to get out, look for wildlife, and ooh and ah at the cloud-shrouded mountaintops, waterfalls and snowfields. And there were times that you just had to stop in the middle of the road long enough to snap a picture or two of something really special, like the young bighorn sheep that we encountered by the side of the road, or the three mountain goats that were wandering down the hiking trail (sorry, that photo didn’t work out.) We drove all the way through the park before returning to Logan Pass to hike to Hidden Lake Overlook. The sign at the entrance stated that we were at the Continental Divide. We’ve been dancing along the Continental Divide since the day we left Fort Collins. When we reached the Visitors Center, there were no less than 3 other 4-wheel campers in the parking lot. It isn’t that common to run into even one, particularly once you leave California, so seeing that many in one place at one time was noteworthy. We had met someone else travelling in a 4-wheel early in the day. Oh, and while we were stopped in a turnout looking out at a vista, a van pulled in ahead of us with a “KPIG” (our favorite station, broadcasting from Santa Cruz County) bumper sticker. It turns out he lives on Hames Road, not far at all from Mike and Westi. He left the first of August, had logged more than 10,000 miles and was on his way back home. The hike to the overlook took us through fields of wildflowers still in bloom, past too many creeks to count, and past some of the most beautiful rocks we’ve ever seen. The rocks were one of our favorite parts of the hike. While we were excited about seeing exotic wildlife, it was actually much more fun to watch a pair of squirrels cavorting along the trail. One scampered after the other for what seemed to be minutes. We thought they were done, and we continued on our way and then they showed up again, exhibiting the same behavior. Whether it was a “turf war”, courtship, or just play will remain a mystery.

The overlook of the lake was well worth the hike, but the pools in the meadow were at least as lovely. As we returned to the trailhead, the sky seemed threatening and we were happy to get back without getting rained on. On the way back we stopped at a popular roadside fountain which had been vandalized, now it was just a plastic pipe streaming water out of the hillside to walk the dogs and fill the water bottle. We learned a little more about the area from the informational signs posted there: the Flathead River (remember, we’re camped on the shore of Flathead Lake) drains Glacier National Park, the “BOB” wilderness area, and the southeastern corner of British Columbia. There was another sign describing how the area known as “bad rock canyon” got its name, the scene of another tribe ambushing the local Flathead tribe after stealing some of the Flathead’s horses. I doubt that we’ll forget our time in Montana any time soon. (From Laura… we won’t forget and we WILL be back!)