Tracey:
We made it up to Glacier, our most eagerly anticipated of the national parks, and after only half a day here we’re pretty certain it will be our favorite. The vibe is noticeably different from others we‘ve visited (actually that’s one of the cool things about the Park system - even parks that are so close that they rub up against each other - like Grand Teton and Yellowstone - have their own unique personalities). We immediately dubbed this the antidote to Yellowstone -- YNP was crowded, people did much more driving than hiking, and they drove as if they were back in the city; here, there were hardly any vehicles on the road, no “bear jams,” and the cars we did encounter drove slowly.
We made it up to Glacier, our most eagerly anticipated of the national parks, and after only half a day here we’re pretty certain it will be our favorite. The vibe is noticeably different from others we‘ve visited (actually that’s one of the cool things about the Park system - even parks that are so close that they rub up against each other - like Grand Teton and Yellowstone - have their own unique personalities). We immediately dubbed this the antidote to Yellowstone -- YNP was crowded, people did much more driving than hiking, and they drove as if they were back in the city; here, there were hardly any vehicles on the road, no “bear jams,” and the cars we did encounter drove slowly.
We arrived with the rain clouds and though Lake McDonald was a sheet of glass as we checked into our cabin, by the time we got our luggage unpacked the wind was blowing hats off and the lake had so many whitecaps it looked like a bay. It began raining pretty hard and we considered hanging out in the room, but since it wasn’t even three o’clock we decided that we’d be better off taking a drive, even if the visibility was limited. The woman at the front desk had given Dave a tip about a small town with a good restaurant and bakery along the border of the park, about 30 miles northwest of where we’re staying, so we decided to check out that part of the world.
What she failed to mention was that there are only two ways to get there - one route through the National Forest and one road through the park - and both involve unpaved washboard roads. We weren’t looking at a map and ended up on the route outside of the park and after dodging rocks and pummeling our kidneys for a couple of miles, we pulled out the map and saw that we had six miles of 10-mile per hour roads through the middle of nowhere (while the other road was unpaved for the entire 30 miles and only a single car width, so we’d inadvertently chosen the right one). We considered turning back since the Hyundai isn’t exactly an off-road vehicle and we figured we’d get there and be most under whelmed. But there wasn’t much else to do in the rain, so we kept on rattling along (which showed me that I am indeed my father‘s daughter - while I might not walk over hot coals and broken glass to get to a good bakery, I did risk having the fillings shaken out of my teeth). Much of the land on both sides of the road was completely burned in a fire in the late eighties, but unlike the fire-scarred areas of Yellowstone, lots of deciduous trees and shrubs are mixed in with the evergreens, filling in the bare spots with beautiful color. We also had a view of the northwest face of the mountains (a different perspective from our lakeside location) and saw our first snow-covered peaks, along with some glaciers.
We arrived in the town of Polebridge to discover that it wasn’t a small town with a restaurant and general store/bakery - the store and saloon were the town. Apparently during the big fire of 1988, the rest of the town burned down, but they were able to save those two buildings and a few houses. There’s also a few cabins that they rent out and that’s it. But as we stepped inside the Polebridge Mercantile, the pleasant surprises began - we were greeted by every good smell a bakery has to offer, along with a three-legged dog. Reggae was playing from the rear, there were various pleasant hippie-ish folks working there, and they even had wi-fi (when we asked about wi-fi at the lodge, they just kind of laughed). They bake everything from scratch each day and had about a dozen different croissant, sticky bun, sweet roll sorts of things, and almost as many varieties of cookies. As we struggled to decide what to order (“one of everything“ wasn‘t an option), we wondered how they could possibly sell all of this stuff in such a remote location, but apparently word travels, as folks steadily trickled in. We finally chose three of the croissant-type concoctions: jalapeno/artichoke/cheddar/mango salsa; spinach/garlic/blue cheese/poppy seed; and chocolate/ricotta. Then we decided that since we’d made it this far, we’d hang around until the Northern Lights Saloon opened and have dinner there, showing great restraint by eating only one of the pastries and using the opportunity to go online (gotta love that wi-fi!), tweak our lodging reservations, and gain an extra night in Glacier (there‘s a decent chance of rain the next couple days, and it‘s supposed to be lovely on Friday, the day we were originally scheduled to leave).
So five o’clock found us waiting outside of the very rustic Northern Lights Saloon, along with a few other people who’d washed up on its shores in a similar manner. As the space is tiny, it ended up being a party, everyone sharing tables (there were only four, with 20 chairs) and swapping stories. They had Willie Nelson on the stereo, a full bar and about 6 items on the menu of the day. We had blackened trout with veggies and a coconut shrimp curry and Moose Drool beer and apple pear pie for dessert. We met two couples from Chicago (one is expecting to spend the day with us when we pass through next weekend on our way home - don‘t worry, Mom, we don’t think they’re swingers), some folks from Duluth, and shared a table with a couple from Phoenix. Today was our wedding anniversary (14 years, hard to believe) and we’d said earlier in the trip that maybe we’d treat ourselves to a more expensive dinner that night, but this place was perfect and much more memorable. Saw a big old black bear hustle across the road on the way back and sunlight gracing the distant peaks; this detour was definitely the way to spend a rainy afternoon.
