We packed out of Ironwood, MI about 9:40 and set our sights on Calamut and the Keweenaw National Park – almost all the way across the “thumb” of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. It had rained mercilessly during the night with one big crack of thunder that shook the motel. (So my driver tells me! I was already dead to the world and didn’t hear a thing!) So the morning was a crisp 52 degrees with winds blowing through accumulated clouds. There were small patches of sun from time to time as we traveled on.

Passing by a small lake as one of the rare appearances of the sun broke through, I hollered, “Oh, stop, please!” I wanted so badly to take some photographs and I hadn’t taken hardly anything with my big Nikon. The town was Wakefield and we did get gas, so that made it all worth while. The lake was Sunday Lake. How appropriate; it was Sunday and we had found the lake. Needless to say, in the sun, it was beautiful. (And, probably beautiful without the sun as well, but it had been a long time since we had seen the sun!)

Because of my complaining, my driver took a detour that would bring us closer to the shores of Lake Superior. We stopped in Ontonagon for comfort and asked directions to a place where we could visit the lake. The elderly clerk at the Kwik Stop was kind enough to direct us but we came out and neither of us could reconstruct what the names of the streets were she had mentioned. I whipped out my phone and pulled up maps. I found the city park she had spoke of and then realized the names of the streets were easily identifiable if one simply understood the dialect. We did find the Ontonagon city park and it was well worth the effort. The lake waves rolled up on the thin strip of sand practically at our toes. The wind whipped with ferocity and the waves responded. Standing there it was difficult to remember we were at the lake shore. I photographed with delight and was just about to return to the car when the clouds parted and sun shone down just for my pictures! Nothing like grace to bring the brilliance of the colors out of the landscape.

Arriving in Calmut about 2:00 (only it was actually 3:00 because we had crossed over into the Eastern Time Zone again) we went right to the Kewneeaw National Parks building – only to find it closed! My driver had made extensive notes for our stops and there was no warning that the place wasn’t open on Sundays. Turns out, just from September 15-30 it would be closed on Sundays. Starting October, it would only be open on Wednesdays thru Saturdays; after October it would be closed for the winter! Just a little notice would have been nice.

Well, we both needed a comfort stop, so we turned the corner and decided to walk down the main street of town to see what we might find. Everything looked closed and locked up tight. But, just a few blocks down there was a shop open. We asked the clerk where we might find a coffee shop. “Oh, I don’t know. Well, maybe at the end of the shop, here, we sell some coffee.” That was so vague, I just had to ask, “Is there a restroom anywhere?” There was some hesitation, “Well, the gas station around the corner.” I thanked him, not adding that I might be able to look in his shop if I didn’t need something else worse! We walked to where he thought there might be coffee. The place sold beans, but it didn’t look like there was brewed coffee available. That settled it, I was going to find the gas station. A kind patron at the counter turned around and offered, “There’s a coffee shop across the road and they have a restroom.” Thank you! We went across the road only to find that establishment closed. Now, I really was going to the gas station. Although it was sunny, the wind was blowing strong enough to rip the skin right off your face.

At the gas station, of course, I had to ask for a key, but the station manager was a grizzly old fellow who could have cared less and just handed me the key. Well, relieved, I could now enjoy the little town that looked like a place trapped in time. It’s the kind of place that would make a great movie set for a small town in the mid ’50’s.

Back in the same little shop, Randy saw a sign that said “Fresh Coffee – $1.” So, he asked again and pointed to the sign. “Oh, yeah,” the young man said and got a cup to pump the coffee into. After one pump the pot was empty! So Randy got about an inch of coffee for free since the poor guy didn’t think he should charge a dollar for that. So, we bought a piece of fudge named “Lake Superior Mud,” a mix of vanilla and chocolate with caramel swirled in the middle. Very creative.

An adjoining shop sold products made on the UP (Upper Peninsula) and I saw a shelf full of a variety of my son’s favorite hat. I texted him a picture and we ended up talking by phone – after, of course, the phone died twice in the process. But we did get him a hat in the right size and desired color. Nothing like buying local products. Especially one so unique and made right here on the UP.

We drove back to Houghton where we had reserved a room. Being famished, we made our usual question to the desk clerk, “Where would you recommend for dinner?” She gave us a number of options and we set out on a walk to take a look and see what sounded the best. The Chinese place was closed; the Italian place was just closing it’s doors at 4:00; the pizza place was open; the bar and grill, closed. It was beginning to look bleak. The only other shop on the street that was open was a book store. Not being able to pass by a book store, even when hungry, I stepped in to look. There was no one anywhere around and the clerk stepped out from a back room. He wanted to know how I was. “Well,” I began, “we’re actually looking for a place to eat. Where do people eat here on a Sunday?” He laughed, obviously having recently immigrated to the area. In his thick accent he recommended “The Library.” Oddly, I could understand him just fine, where the local accent was much harder to decipher!

“The Library,” located right on the canal, proved to be the place. Turns out they had a signature soup, creamy Swiss cheese and onion, and it was delicious. Randy said he had the best sandwich of the trip so far.

Afterward, I walked down along the canal and took some pictures. The sun was setting and the place was so entirely picturesque, it was a delightful walk. One thing I noticed – the entire town is in some way trying to reinvent itself. It had once been a mining town, but now the mines are deserted and turned into tourist attractions. The movie theater is a refurbished insurance agency; the churches are museums; the old library, a bar and grill; the Hanford House, a tattoo parlor; and so on. It’s a tiny little town on a beautiful canal leading into Lake Superior trying to grow up and transform itself into a tourist destination.

We left Thunder Bay, Ontario (and the Eastern Time Zone) by crossing the Pigeon River back into the USA. It was so thick with morning fog we could hardly see the road ahead of us. We needed that great reserve of faith to believe there was a lake out there somewhere. We were closely following the shoreline of Lake Superior, but nothing was visible!

By 8:30 we were back in the Central Time Zone and were just in time for the doors of Grand Portage Visitor Center to open. It’s a lovely spot situated on Lake Superior that tells the story of the French traders and voyageurs working with the Ojibway Indians to find an overland passage for portage of their goods. They needed to carry materials overland to avoid the Pigeon River’s rapids. There was a very informative museum and film detailing the history of the cooperation between the trappers and the Native Americans.  Of course, beaver pelt was the commodity that was in great demand. In 1793, over a period of one year, they shipped 180,000 beaver pelts across the grand portage to Lake Superior and points East, all the way to Europe and beyond. Some even made it as far as Russia.We walked down into the fort of Grand Portage that has been recreated on the exact spot. Electing not to stay for the ranger led tour, we saw what interested us and moved on.

Once again, moving south along the shoreline of Lake Superior, we marveled when about noon the lake revealed itself. We stopped at a Minnesota State Park for comfort and coffee and took a little hike. It was situated on a cliff right at the lake’s edge. Stunningly beautiful . . . what we could see of it. The fog was still lifting.

Eventually we reached Duluth and turned east when the lake allowed and drove into the city of Superior in Wisconsin. The Northern Lakes Visitor Center for the Apostle Islands was our destination. These 22 islands in Lake Superior are a National Park and only accessible by boat. We didn’t allow for the time to go out exploring by boat, but we did learn all about the history and ecology of the region. It looks like another place to plan for a return trip when we can stay longer and fully explore the entire area.

One of the attractions in the museum was a display of tapestries made by an Ojibway woman who wove them on her loom. She combined ancient technique with current technology and computer assisted images, but the results were like nothing I had ever seen. Quite remarkable – and beautiful.

As we made our way to the car after our visit, we realized we were hot! During our travels from Thunder Bay at 7:45 a.m. to Ashland, Michigan at 5:15 p.m. the temperature had gone from 42 degrees to 78 and from dense fog to scattered clouds and showers. That’s quite a difference in one day’s travels. No wonder we felt hot!

Our stomachs told us it was time to stop for fuel, so we made a swing through the main street of Ashland and settled on cheap and quick – pizza. It was nothing great; it wan’t bad; and it filled us satisfactorily. While we ate, a huge cloud burst emptied the skies and we thought we would get drenched going back out to the car. However, by the time we were finished, the rain had stopped and the clouds had parted so we could see tiny streaks of pink across the horizon over the lake.

One more jaunt of about 45 miles before we could rest for the night. We finished our fourth hour of “Philosophize This” for today just in time as we crossed over into Michigan State and found our motel in Ironwood.

It was a full day; filled with information; interesting facts; stunning views; intricate weavings; and philosophical discussions. What more could we ask for? It was Superior in every way.

After such a long day yesterday, we didn’t crack out quite so early. By 10:00 a.m. we were crossing the border back into the USA to visit Voyageurs National Park. This is the place where French voyageurs came to trap the much sought after beaver, then found routes to return East with their valuable pelts. The day was overcast and grey, but the lakes were beautiful, nonetheless.  We walked down to the shoreline and visited the native tepee made of birch bark, as well as watched the informative firm and visited the museum. We learned there are 122,000 acres of park, but only 10 miles of road. Most of the park is water, and best explored by canoe or kayak. Since we had forgotten to strap a canoe on our little Prius, we had to make do with what we could see from land. It was still beautiful. But, someday, maybe a water exploration is in order.

Crossing back into Canada, we traveled the Trans Canadian Highway 11 on to Thunder Bay where we had reserved a room for the night. There is a LOT of water and marshlands and very little evidence of civilization over the almost 200 miles! The trees were turning – yellow and red – and at one point we almost hit a hawk or an osprey. Two large birds were feeding on some road kill and swooped up when we approached. Then one swerved to the left, then back right and got dangerously close to our windshield. We heard it lightly skim the roof of the car. That was an experience of nature up close and personal . . . well, maybe just a tiny bit too close.

After driving about two hours we knew we needed a comfort stop. There was nothing on the map, nothing on the GPS, nothing giving any information of any possible stop. Finally, we saw a sign for Atikokan. We turned off. Atikokan is a tiny town of about 1,000 inhabitants. We drove down Main Street and decided to stop at a bar and grill. It wasn’t open. We went farther down the street to PJ’s Pizza. It wasn’t open. We crossed the street to ask someone in the Bargain Market where we might find a bit of lunch. Just then two women emerged and I asked, “Where might we find a little lunch in town?” They graciously directed us to “the mall” and a tiny restaurant called “Little Darling.” They assured us we would find something delicious there.

The “mall” was a building with maybe 3 shops in it, and in the back was “Little Darling.” We hesitated, but we didn’t have much other choice.  And, besides, we were more interested in their comfort facilities, and not so much their food. Ordering hamburgers, thinking that would be quick, we took a seat and waited. The hamburgers came in a homemade bun, the meat mixed with spices and onion. They were juicy, hot and entirely delicious! Those ladies knew what they were talking about. Always trust the recommendations of the locals!

More and more and more of Trans Canadian 11, until Randy said “Oh! I saw a beaver dam. We have to turn around.” Which he did. I jumped out of the car – there was no one on the road but us – and ran across the street to take some pictures. It was a full-blown beaver dam, with a lake at the highest level of the dam, and a stream flowing out at a lower level. It was almost more exciting than seeing the hawk just about hit the windshield!

People always ask why I like beavers so much. Well, I tell them, beavers are industrious, hard working and very family oriented. They spend a major part of their time building and maintaining a home for their family. And, most interesting of all, people think beavers live in lakes, but they don’t. Beavers live in streams and create a lake around them. I feel like that’s the story of my life. And, so beyond being very cute and furry creatures, I identify with the hard working, creative and family minded beaver.

There were 4 more hours today of “Philosophize This” to entertain us and we learned about Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas. Spirited conversations followed each episode. The miles (or kilometers) flew away behind us.

About 5:00 we needed another comfort stop and by this time we were coming close to some habitation. Stopping in the village of Kakabeka Falls, we also got some petrol for Dixie before making the final kilometers to Thunder Bay.

Checking into the motel, we asked the clerk for a recommendation for dinner. He directed us to “Naxos” just a block away. We could walk! So, we did. It was Greek food and was tasty and delicious. Just perfect after a long day. I had never had avgolemono soup before, but I will be trying the recipe at home as soon as I can. It was unforgettably delicious.

Although few, the local Canadians we met today were delightful and we will long remember the kind advice they gave us for finding some delicious local cuisine. Everything is grace.

We left Stanley with an early roll out and were on the road at 8:06! But, we knew it was going to be a long road day. Overnight it had rained, so the air felt blessedly fresh and clear, even though the skies were overcast.

Having started listening to “Philosophize This,” we spent the entire day (8 hours of driving . . . so about 6 hours of “Philosophize This”) listening to more. It was especially fun to stop after each episode and discuss what we had learned.

We made our first comfort stop in Rugby, ND which boasts the notoriety of being the geographical center of the North American Continent. We remember stopping there for gas in 1989 when we were traveling with the kids on the way to grandma’s house. The station manager was so delighted we were interested in their unique geographical statistic that he gave each of the kids a Popsicle! It wasn’t as hot today, however, as it was on that day! A light rain continued to fall throughout the day today, but it was blessedly fresh after so many days of being in a cloud of smoke. I’m sure this rain is the answer to so many prayers.

We made another stop at the intersection of Highway 66 and 44 – just a bump in the road. This is in the northern most area of North Dakota, and we were traveling east to Fort Frances, Ontario. The landscape was surprisingly beautiful, even in the rain! Road work delayed us for about 20 minutes along the way and we made our last U.S. comfort stop in Warroad, MN, right at the foot of Lake of the Woods. A few miles farther down the road and we crossed into Canada at Boudette as we took the bridge over the Rainy River that marks the border.

Canada seemed more colorful, even in the rain. The trees are turning and with the fields of sunflowers, hay and what we think may have been a golden wheat, as well as some pumpkins . . . it was a delightful ride.

Our room for the night is on the Ontario side of  Rainy Lake at the La Place Rendez-vous. And it is RIGHT on the lake. Even in the rain and waning light, it’s beautiful.

We were so hungry after such a long day in the car without stopping for food, that we checked into our room and went directly to the restaurant. Thankfully, the second to the last empty table in the dining room was available for us. Gratefully, we enjoyed a hot meal that was more than adequate. And, afterward, even before bringing in the luggage, we walked out to the lake shore to take some pictures.

When we finally went inside it was still lightly raining, baptizing everything in sight.

The wildfires throughout the West have seemed to consume so much of our worry about where to go and what we can see this trip that they even invaded my dreams last night. I kept hearing helicopters coming over our motel and landing on the rooftop – over and over again. I was sure we were supposed to get word of an evacuation to get out of our room and to the helicopters, yet no one was coming to wake us with the warning. Eventually, I woke up enough to realize it was simply the very loud air conditioner kicking on in its effort to keep our room comfortable.

As I checked out of our room this morning I asked the clerk how the name of this town is pronounced. We were saying “Have’ ra” with short “a”s, somewhat like we thought Havre would be pronounced in France.  But the clerk was incensed. “Well, we’re not French around here! It’s “Haw’ ver”.” I’ve learned to always ask the locals and never assume I know something I don’t! Traveling is a learning experience, too.

Today was a long day in the car just making tracks. Some days simply have to be like that to get to the next place of adventure along our route.

The sky was overcast, still laced with smoke from fires, and the temperature 39 when we packed the car to head out. We slid onto Highway 2 and just kept going. The landscape was Montana ranch lands and hay fields with that signature Big Sky as far as the eye could see. Well, today that wasn’t as far as usual because of the lingering smoke coming down from the wildfires in Canada.

To keep us entertained as we drove, we listened to Steve West’s podcast “Philosophize This.” Randy had downloaded 5 years of his by-monthly recordings and we were rapt. At one point he taught us about how Plato, as a young man, had gone on a long road trip and how it had expanded and enriched his life. “That’s what we’re doing,” we exclaimed to each other. At the end of every episode, Steve West says “Thank you for wanting to know more today than you knew yesterday.” I can’t help but think there is grace in that gratitude – and grace in the knowledge that comes from being inquisitive. I think we’ll be learning a lot more as we go.

We made comfort stops along the way: at a town park in Malta, where I saw two deer; in Glasgow, where we also filled the gas tank and had a cup of delicious tortilla soup; in Wolfe Point; and after crossing over into North Dakota and the Central Time Zone, one final stop in Williston before reaching our destination for the night in Stanley, N.D.

We had a quick sandwich at the motel restaurant and wish we hadn’t. It was a reminder that some places are better than others . . . but you never know until you try!

I took a long walk out along the parking lot and the prairie. It was a beautiful evening with the sun trying to peek through the gathered clouds and haze. A small river flows right along the parking lot of the hotel and wild flowers fill the adjacent fields. As I walked I prayed and sang: “From the ocean, through the mountains, to the prairie, now I roam. God bless America, my home sweet home.”

Our last morning in our little apartment began with scrambled eggs with cheese and toast – just because we had to eat the last of our provisions. We washed up the dishes and packed the car. We were set to go by 8:30 and leaving Meadow Lake by 8:45 after my driver got his morning coffee. But, first . . . a warning light was telling us that tire pressure was low. Thankfully, we were still in town and pulled into a station to put some air in the tires. After a bit of fumbling around, we realized the air hose wasn’t working properly. Off to another station farther down the road. Their air hose worked just fine and the tires were happy again; the light went off and we went on.

On our way to Havre, MT, our destination for today, we took Highway 2 all the way, noticing how the landscape went from mountains to rolling hills before flattening for grazing or agriculture that supported livestock. There were lots of fields with hay bales as we moved East through the area. But, the land is very dry here, too, and we could still see clouds of fire smoke hanging over everything.

Arriving in Havre by about 2:00 we promptly found a place for lunner (that’s lunch and dinner). Deciding where to eat on the road is always an exercise in discernment . . . and then trusting that what we do find is actually what we really wanted. We set out for a place called Duckie’s Cafe and ended up at Wolfer’s instead because we’d missed a turn and were trying to backtrack. However, Wolfer’s was between here and there and it looked inviting. It was a tiny diner right out of the 1950’s with a menu to match. We ate and were more than satisfied, taking half of our plates with us to finish later.

Next stop, the nearby town of Chinook and the Blaine County Museum. This museum also covers as a National Park site for the Bear Paw Battlefield where the Nez Perce Indians were forced to surrender their lands to U.S. troops after a four month battle in September of 1877. It was the last battle of the Indian Wars. It’s always so sobering to learn the details of some of the injustices that our country has inflicted on others. But, it is a necessary learning. If we are not aware, we are destined to repeat our mistakes instead of learning how to work to overcome them the next time.

As we have found so many times, some of the little county museums are amazingly detailed. Only this one was not little at all. It was two full floors packed with Montana history from the earliest days of settlers in the area.  One of the most fascinating displays for me was a photo collection of locals who had sat for the town photographer in the late 1800’s to early 1900’s. The collection is extensive, as the family of the photographer donated all his work to the museum. The selected subjects that were displayed were engaging and haunting. One of the most touching for me was a photo of an Hispanic man, a migrant worker who came to these parts to work in the sugar beet fields. In the portrait he is wearing suit and tie and hat, with a small picture of his wife and three daughters tucked in his jacket pocket.  It was probably the only way he could have a family photo.

There were also rooms and rooms of beautiful Native American hand crafts; settler quilts and lace; as well as tools and implements for both home and farm.

There were two objects that I could not help capture in a photo. I could hardly imagine what use they once had! See if you can figure out. The answers will be posted tomorrow.

We stayed until the museum closed and Randy helped the curator take down her flag signaling she was going home. It was an informative and  educational afternoon. Since all the signage that was once at the Bear Paw Battlefield was now located in the museum, we elected to skip driving the extra hour to stand on the actual site.

Instead, we found our way to the motel and packed in for the night. I took a two mile walk along Highway 2 (there was a wide sidewalk through town) and then we settled in to rest up for tomorrow’s adventures.

The day began slowly, with more haze and smoke in the atmosphere. That’s certainly what slowed us down. We ate breakfast late and didn’t make it down to the coffee cart until they had closed for the day!

So, we read, did the wash, and started packing up our belongings before we decided on an afternoon ride over to Whitefish Lake. It turned out to be a most welcome journey. There are not superlatives enough to describe the beauty of this spot! I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. There were only about ten people on the beach on this 80 degree day in September. Someone had strung two hammocks between the trees and I had to capture the iconic shot. What’s a day at the lake for if you can’t spend it in a hammock reading a good book?

As the afternoon progressed, the smoky haze lessened and we saw some more of the panoramic Montana countryside. Mountains providing a backdrop for fields of hay; horses enjoying the sunshine; and deer out walking at the same time I was!We came back to make our chicken salad for dinner and then walked down to the Pro Shop where we had made arrangements to rent a golf cart for the evening. Neither one of us having ever golfed, we had never even ridden in one. This golf course is so beautiful and so expansive – and because of the fires, so sparsely used, I had asked if we could just get a golf cart and drive around the course for the pleasure of it. The manager told us to come back at 7:00 and we could have a cart until dark.

We felt like two little kids at the carnival. It was so much fun just driving through the trees, along the greens, and in and among the meadows with deer casually munching their dinner. We got lost several times, not really knowing how to read golf maps, but eventually found our way back to the Pro Shop just after sunset. If anyone thought we were crazy, they never let on. The two guys at the Pro Shop were gracious and helpful in every way. We only wish we had asked for a few directions!

As we returned to our place, the pink sky over the mountains was fading fast. This being our last day, we admired it before going in. We want to remember this beauty and this time forever.

The sun was peaking through the blinds as we awoke this morning. Pulling the windows open we could see blue sky decorated with creamy white popcorn clouds. Tall trees and mountains were visible in the distance.  Had we been transported to some strange new land while we were sleeping? No, the winds had simply blown all the smoke and haze away.

Pancakes and bacon were consumed while catching up on hurricane Irma news.  After the dishes were done we decided we would return to Apgar Village to see if the landscape looked different there.  But before we left Randy said, “Why don’t we just drive all the way to St. Mary’s on the East side and see what it looks like there?” We can try, I thought. Well, why not?

We left in a blast and took only jackets and water bottles with us, not really serious about the drive all the way to the Eastern gates of Glacier. But once on the road, Apgar Village was bypassed in favor of just continuing on. The views were stunning and beautiful, as if someone had pulled back opaque curtains and all the beauty of the landscape was now visible. Not only that, the air quality seemed greatly improved and the smoke smell was reduced to almost non-existent.

Since we couldn’t drive “Going to the Sun Road” due to fires, (and we didn’t want to drive the mountain twists anyway) we continued on Highway 2 across the Continental Divide. Arriving in the town of East Glacier about 12:25, we continued into the park to see the Two Medicine Lake Area. Stopping at the Ranger Station we bought some maps and asked directions to any points of local interest. A near-by beaver lodge on the Two Medicine River was something we did not want to miss. So, we followed the Ranger’s directions and walked a ways along the river until we found it. We felt dwarfed by the massive peaks rising on each side of Two Medicine Lake. It was gorgeous. Rugged and pristine. And, as described, we found the beaver lodge along the river leading into the lake. Since beaver are mostly nocturnal, we didn’t see any activity in the light of day.

Since the last stop had been so refreshing, we traveled on. However, we did take the longer option and took US 89 until we reached Highway 464 to come back around and approach St. Mary’s from the north. It was only a few minutes longer and had no twisty mountain roads. Traveling along US 89 we came down from the mountains of Glacier and drove into the ranch lands of Northern Montana.

I was looking for something in the car when Randy gasped and exclaimed, “Buffalo!” I quickly looked up to see hundreds (maybe a couple of thousand) of buffalo, or bison as they are more accurately named, on the move along the roadway. Randy pulled off the road, then crossed over to the authorized pull-off on the buffalo side. (This is Eastern Montana . . . there weren’t many cars on the road, so such a maneuver wasn’t difficult.)

We stood in awe for several minutes, just watching these massive herd animals moving together.  Then we got out our cameras and took some shots. The experience made us wonder what it must have been like to come upon a herd of buffalo like this if you were crossing the planes in a wagontrain, or even if you were hunting buffalo to feed your family. Life must have been so very different in the early days of our country’s expansion.

Arriving at St. Mary’s Visitor Center on the Eastern approach to Glacier National Park about 3:00 p.m. we felt we’d made good time. The Lake MacDonald Lodge and surrounding area was closed due to the fires, and Logan Pass seemed just a little farther than we felt we had time for. So, we enjoyed the information, museum, and educational film before loading back in the car to return to the West side.

Enjoying the change in landscapes in reverse, we passed the herd of buffalo again and followed the Middle Fork of the Flathead River and Highway 2 back into Columbia Falls. As we passed the park’s Western entrance, we took a side trip in to see if MacDonald Lake was visible today in the setting sunlight. As we walked down to the lake I gasped as I saw the mountains bordering the lake jutting into the sky. Then, I gasped again as I realized they were filled with smoke as a result of fire that was coming down the mountain to meet the lake shore. We stood and watched for a time, sad all over again that the fires had consumed so much of the park lands. Leaving, we stopped once again along MacDonald river to see a beaver lodge in the evening light, hoping to see someone coming out in the twilight. If we hadn’t been so hungry, we might have stayed longer. But, suddenly we were really hungry. Those pancakes this morning were good, but they weren’t that good.

The place we had in mind for nourishment was closed by the time we arrived, so we looked across the street to see most of the cars in town parked in the lot of “The Nite Owl Back Room.” So, why not try a little “local color?” we asked ourselves. It was a roadside diner in every sense of the word. A few Formica tables; booths along the wall; a bakery case by the cashier; and a menu with everything from soup to nuts. It was so extensive, in fact, we couldn’t make up our minds. Just as we were about to order, a woman from the booth behind us got up to leave and stopped to advise us, “Try the Back Room. It’s senior buffet night. All you can eat for $12.95 and the chicken is to DIE for. They have everything you want and it’s so worth it.”

Of course, we opted for the Back Room Buffet, having officially crossed over to the dark side of “senior.” It definitely required a trip to the Back Room, which was a sizable dinning room filled with all the people who had come in the cars in the parking lot. We’ll have to remember to pay that one forward. Just a little reminder that grace comes in all shapes and sizes!

There is no disputing, the chicken WAS to die for! We finished everything off with a bowl of huckleberry ice cream and rolled back to our little apartment full, happy, and satisfied we had not only found a delightful eatery, but had experienced the graciousness of Montana hospitality and had SEEN some of the beauty of Montana we had longed to see.

We set alarms to be up by 6:30 a.m. so we could prepare for our guided tour through Glacier National Park.  We were very excited even though it was still dark and the temperature read 45 degrees. It must be Fall.

After a quick yogurt for breakfast we packed our day bags. Contents: One water bottle; one sweatshirt; one hat; one bug band; one granola bar; two cameras. Only the necessities.

It was a 45 minute drive to the pick up point, but we made it in good time. No one else was on the road. There was still smoke visible (and smell-able) as the dawn pushed back the darkness. All of the sudden, we could see in the sky before us half of a bright orange orb that we knew must be the sun. Only, it appeared to be cut in half as if with pinking shears. “A mountain!” we both exclaimed at once. We realized the other half of the sun was obscured by the slope of a mountain. And, as the day grew lighter and lighter, we could actually make out the outlines of some of the mountains around us. We had seen the sunrise through a gap in the mountains. It felt like waking up in an entirely different world from the one we had been in for the last 3 days.

The park ranger at the entrance to the park checked our pass and wished us a happy “Good morning,” as he handed us a map and waved us through. We drove on to Apgar Village where we had determined our Red Bus Tour of the park would start. There were no other cars in the parking lot. We parked and went to the meeting point. While the General Store’s OPEN sign was lit up, everything else around looked dark and closed. The lodge office, where we had just made the change in our reservations for the tour just the day before yesterday, had a sign explaining they were closed for the season. What? The place almost looked abandoned.

It was starting to feel just a little Twilight Zone-y. Randy got out his phone and made a call. There was only a recording. He checked the Red Bus website and they had a message that all tours had been cancelled from the West side of the park. What? Another call and some waiting before talking to a real person. Yes, indeed, all tours from the West side of the park had been cancelled! Turns out, the Park actually suspended all commercial enterprises because of predictions for increased threat of fires over the weekend. And, the woman who had changed our reservations only moved our name over to today, but had failed to include our contact information, so we never got notified of the cancellation.

Time for plan B. We left Apgar Village and took the road to Camas that led us into the park to the north. A short distance away we stopped the car after crossing a lovely little stream, Fern Creek, and got out. Finally, here was something we could see. A slow flowing gentle creek on one side of the bridge. But on the other, a mirror-glassed water way adorned with an expertly constructed beaver lodge nestled along the shore. To complete the picture were lush evergreens along the banks and in the distance, purple- smoky mountains rose into the haze to complete a scenic backdrop lit by the early morning sun. This may be the best and the only picture we have from this trip to Glacier. For a few minutes we simply stood in awe. It was like we were the only two people in the world. The silence was stunning – and captivating. Then we heard the birds and insects and even the ripple of the water. It was a graced moment.

While more of the landscape was becoming visible, it certainly was not smoke free and we made an executive decision to return to Glacier at another more opportune time. We knew we would be compromising if this was our entire experience of Glacier National Park. On the way out, we stopped by Apgar Visitor Center again to check out the park’s webcams of other park locations. As expected, the cams showed there was still so much  that was obscured by smoke. Assured now we had made the right decision, we left knowing we will be returning sometime in the future.

Before we got to the car, however, we stopped to marvel at the large plants with tiny purple flowers growing everywhere  . . . the very kind of plant I’ve been pulling up from our yard as weeds for years! It’s amazing how in nature there are no weeds – only plants growing and flowering where they are most at home. Walking the immediate grounds we saw a deer lazily munching some breakfast, unconcerned with these out-of-towners who just found out their Red Bus tour had been cancelled. Another graced moment.

We were back at our apartment at Meadow Lake by 11:30 a.m., just in time for a short nap before deciding what else to do for the day. We ended up getting trapped in reading our novels; made a quick salad for dinner; watched the weather channel’s coverage (which we do not get at home) of hurricane Irma; and went out for an evening stroll around the golf course. Even with such unexpected outcomes, the day was lovely. Never undervalue the possibilities of Plan B.

We packed out early to move to our new rooms located just across the breezeway. Completing that by about 10:30, we settled our luggage and replaced the food in the fridge before making some calls and setting up a car appointment for a day when we will be in La Crosse, Wisconsin.

Even though the haze outside seemed thicker and browner than it had the last few days, we elected to go out to explore the little towns in the surrounding area. Setting our destination as the historic town of Whitefish, we took back roads to see what we could of the landscape along the way. Visibility was less than half a mile and in some places  even less than that. It seemed like something out of a post apocalyptic movie – eerie and strange. But, what’s a visitor to do? We continued to visit. The most disappointing thing, however, was how much it felt like we were back home in a heavy layer of marine fog with zero visibility and not in the majestic mountains of Big Sky Montana.

Whitefish, which locals assured us was framed by mountains, was a cute little frontier town that built up around the railroad. So, we visited the original Whitefish railroad station house and the museum that accompanies it now. I weighed myself on the original luggage scales and we admired the monument to all those who spent their lives working on the railroad. We walked the town and visited some small shops where we found a host of interesting local products.  It looks as if the locals have a great sense of humor!
Apparently this area is famous for huckleberries and we saw several items made from local huckleberries – from honey and jams to soaps and lip gloss. The most interesting item for sale was an easy chair made from antlers. Now, how could I possibly make this amazing piece of furniture fit in my front room, I ask you?

By the time we made it to Kalispell all we were looking for was a place for a nourishing meal. We stumbled on Bullman’s Woodfired Pizza and we went no farther. While we wondered how they could cook with wood when there is a burn ban for the entire state, the pizza smelled so good we trusted they knew what they were doing. Randy tested a Montana beer called  “Wheatfish.” (I will never forget the first time we were in Montana in 1977, when we encountered “Moose Drool” and I think it’s still popular.) The pizza was thin and savory; crispy and excellent.

Being out in the haze most of the day made us feel tired and draggy, so about the time we were done with our meal we decided to return to our apartment in time to watch the national news. Not only are there fires all over the West; multiple hurricanes in the South and Southeast; now there is news of a massive earthquake in Mexico. All our efforts to abandon the news while on vacation have gone by the wayside. We pray everyone can be safe and receive the assistance they need.

So, this was a day of exploring in the area. Enjoyable, but thick with smoke and some disappointment that we cannot see the real character of the surrounding landscapes.