A Trip Through Glacier National Park

 

The South Wing of the Grand East Glacier Lodge:

It all started when we neared the hundredth anniversary of national parks. I binge watched a series of hour-long documentaries describing America's great national parks. 

And the one that really captured my imagination was nearby Glacier National Park. 

I was a bit confused that the first national park was created in 1916 (obviously, hundredth anniversary), but Glacier Park was founded in 1911. But I believe Glacier was a private park first. 

Anyhow, the documentary described a time before rampant automobiles when Glacier was a Swiss-like mountain retreat for wealthy train travelers from the east coast. Rail was a dramatic way to approach the great mountains of the continental divide which arise out of the plains like an immense squall line of storms. 

And the arrival point was the great log lodge on the east side of the park. The park was owned by the Great Northern Railway and the company had a deal with the local Blackfeet Indians to receive the trains in full regalia.  They showed brilliant color footage of this occurring still in the 1950s. The grand lodge was just a short walk from the train station and was incredible. The lobby was open to three stories the entire length of the lodge, held up around the perimeter by twenty log columns of 6ft diameter, with the bark still on. 

While watching I wondered if the lodge still existed. 

OMG! IT STILL EXISTS!

I immediately went online to get a reservation there, and at the Lake MacDonald Lodge for three days on the way home from mike Eisenman's wedding in Billings two weeks hence. 

The photo above is actually of the "new" wing (built in 1924), which looks fabulously Swiss chalet-like on the outside, but is an unremarkable three stories of rooms and halls on the inside. The only redeeming features of which are the large open decks with ancient rocking chairs. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to use them. Everyone was hanging out in the Main lobby playing board games and listening to live music like it was 1935. 

 

The Main Lodge:

Which is unremarkable from the outside . . . 

 

The Main Lobby:

. . . But amazing on the inside. The desk is on the left of this picture from the north end second floor balcony. The pillars are shocking, but also notice the enormous half round log table in the foreground. The other end of the lobby is a random array of large, comfortable, rustic furniture in front on a huge open fireplace in which a fire of 5ft long logs is constantly burning. It is everything I could imagine and more. 

 

Lobby from the Third Floor:

The tops of the pillars are "American log ionic". Yes, that's the top of a fairly large teepee rising from the second floor mezzanine. It's a truly incredible space. A lightly amplified guitar/vocalist could be heard easily throughout the structure. It was a pleasure to leave the door of our third floor room open and let the light music of the lobby waft in as we rested on the bed. 

 

Tour Bus:

The ubiquitous open-topped tour busses were recently given a new lease on life by the Ford Motor Co that included newly welded frames and powered by propane. We talked with a driver who said that he and his wife live in their RV on site and drive tour buses in the summer, then drive their RV back to Florida for the winter. 

So, Mattoon. I have an idea. Drive busses in the day, play music in the evening for a couple months next summer?

 

Two Medicine Lake:

Well we're here. Let's hike. There are a few heavily trafficked trails in Glacier, mostly near Logan Pass -- the Garden Wall for example -- which we will try tomorrow. But the lakes and peaks on the east side of the park are relatively less travelled. 

The garbage cans in the park are all bear proof, but being a tourist, you think it's just over precaution. So before hiking, I ask the desk clerk: 

"We're hiking Two Medicine Lake tomorrow, should we take bear spray?"  

Without hesitation she said:

"Definitely yes!"

So I went right over to the gift shop and got a big can of the stuff. While unpackaging it I remarked that I would hate to set it off in the lobby. To which the sales clerk said:

"It would be the first time, this season."

 

Tour Boats:

I had read of these old wooden tour boats, mostly of those on St Marie's and MacDonald Lakes, in Woodenboat magazine. I'll have to go back and reread that article. 

 

BIG Bear Scat:

In the first half mile of our first hike we were walking through a shoreside mess of very tall grass. Some would call it bear grass it was creepy. A very large bear could be 5 feet from you without your knowledge. Right on the path we found this substantial pile of fresh bear scat. I immediately pick up some to see if it was warm (what must the bear watching from the tall grass be thinking). It was wet, but not warm. No human bones, bells or pepper in the scat. Only berries. 

I immediately convinced Nan to high tail it back to the parking lot. On the way we saw three groups of hikes heading out, none of whom did we convince to turn around. 

 

Cable Bridge:

About a mile and a half along the trail on the other side of the lake from the bear scat we found this delightful cable bridge, a tenth of a mile beyond which we encountered a group of halted, shushing hikers. I'm like:

"What is it?" In a full voice. 

(Whispering) "A bull moose."

(Me, full voice) "Where? I don't see it."

Huge bull moose stands up abound 30 yards away and begins sauntering toward us. 

(Me whispering) "Oh. Sorry."

(Me walking away quietly and quickly). 

Nancy follows at a leisurely pace. 

 

Lake MacDonald Lodge:

This lodge was built about 30 years before the road to it was built. In the early days, all the visitors arrived on by boat, sonthenlake side of the building is the gorgeous, front side. Since the road, visitors now arrive by the somewhat boring back side of the building. 

 

Lobby Skin Lights:

I read a short history of the lodge while sitting in the rustic Lobby that mentioned that an early (and often) guest of the Lewis family, which built the lodge, was artist Charles M Russell. He had a cabin across the lake and would spent most evening with the Lewis family in this lobby. It is said he was a great story teller. Might it have been fun to sit there then. 

 

Lodge Lobby: 

Not as grand or imposing as the East Glacier Lodge, but this one is much more intimate. Quite comfortable. 

 

Lodge Stairs:

This is where I began my research into how log railing and stairs go together. 

 

Log Railing:

It was here that Nancy figured out how I would install log railings on an upcoming job. How to you place both ends of a too-long log rail into already fixed log posts?  2" hole on one side. 1" inch hole on the other. Slide the rail all the way into the 2" hole, then back into the 1" hole. Then secure it with a hidden screw into the gap. Easier said than done, but clearly the right way. 

 

Dead Animals in the Lobby:

Well, it is a lodge. And actually, I'm not sure it's a bad way for an animal to go. Would I like it to happen to me? Not my face. But some other facet would be fine. 

 

The Garden Wall:

This hike is extremely popular. So much so that you had better get there early to park at Logan Pass, or catch the free shuttle from the Lodge. The section shown above is beyond the incredible, wet, flowing garden area of a half mile before, but look at the incredible, inexastibke 40 degree slope on which we are standing. 

 

Going to the Sun Road:

The previous picture was taken from this spot, well above the hectic traffic of the road below. 

There are over 700 miles of trails in Glacier Park, most of them not near as well trafficked as this one. 

I'd like to summarize with some of the details I learned from the documentary that sent me on this trip. In the early days, visitors entered for a two week stay starting at East Glacier. They would then spend the next two weeks on a guided horseback tour to the many back country chalets at places like Many Glacier Lodge and two still extant mountaintop chalets. One could even hike all the way to Waterton Park in Canada.

I mean to visit all of these historic lodges in the near future. 

A Trip to Vancouver and Back

It all started because Elaine found that plane tickets to Europe cost about half as much if the embarkation point was Vancouver BC. So I volunteered to drive her and a friend the 7 hours through Seattle and up to Vancouver for the drop off. We planned poorly and hit rush hour on Seattle's northbound 405. We took the express lanes so it wasn't too bad. The whole trip over was fairly uneventful. 

I found a nice 1920s bungalow Bed & Breakfast (Clair's) in a small Vancouver suburb named Ladner. The decor was a bit colorful, but we had a wonderfully pleasant host. 

Here are my digs. 

Cosy twins in the next room with the roof eaves right overhead always makes for the most comfy sleep. Everyone slept well. 

I got the kids to the airport with plenty of time and then began my somewhat leisurely drive home. 

Two things I want to do on this trip: 1) see the air museum in Concrete WA, and 2) drive the North Cascades highway. 

I didn't write it up as an adventure, but last year Mike and I flew over to the Arlington air show. 

Here we are sitting under the wing of the Monocoupe amongst the completely fried grass that year. 

Anyhow, while there we met Drew, a pilot/mechanic from the North Cascades Vintage Aircraft Museum. I couldn't help but notice the tattoo on his forearm that looked just like a sticker on the door of my plane portraying the logo of the National Air Races of the 1930s:

Here's a facsimile of the tattoo. He just had the winged head. You can barely make out the sticker on the door of the plane in the above image. 

Drew's museum brought down at least five planes from their collection, including a Mooney Mite, which is why I started talking with Drew in the first place. I have a Mite project and I'd never seen one all together in person before. I had a lot of questions. 

This museum is never before heard of is why I wanted to stop in Concrete. It's a pretty good collection, but way off the beaten path. 

The museum was closed this day, but the  airport gate and a couple of the hangars were open, so wandered in an used my Monocoupe card to get a private tour of the entire collection. Ever since I bought this plane, I get private tours from every aviation museum I come upon. I don't even have to have the airplane with me. And they've usually heard of me. It's a small circle of people that know and appreciate planes to this level of detail. 

On with the tour. The museum has 6 hangars that house about 8 planes each for about 50 planes, most falling in the pre-to-post war period. Oh yes, the thing to notice in the above pic is not the cub in front, but Douglas cockpit up in the peak of the hangar. I can't tell if it's a DC-3 or a DC-6 from here, but I'll guess 3. 

The first plane I noticed amongst all the fine planes here was the Baby Lakes. It was designed as a mini Great Lakes, and from all I've heard, it lives up to that name very well, except for a reputation for short-coupled quickness worse than a Pitts. The only way to land it is with a locking tail wheel. I, of course, liked it because it was tiny it was, making it the most affordable and achievable plane that a young man could ever dream of. Look at it! It's barely 5 feet tall. 450# empty. Ah the hours I wasted on that dream (and the Powell Racer -- look it up )

Next is the museum's newly acquired Beech Staggerwing. The story of the flight from Pennsylvania is found here: http://vintageaircraftmuseum.org/. It's an interesting read, much like my own blog of last summer's cross-country odyssey in the Monocoupe. 

But here is the real reason I wanted to visit this museum. "The Spirit of Dynamite" is a 165 hp Warner Scarab powered Clipwing Monocoupe. And it is beautiful. You know, I was so busy looking at all the planes that I forgot to take a moment to look inside this one to see if it has the offset right stick as mine does. 

Wait a minute, I think I recall that I did, and it does. 

Well, that was an awesome start to a road trip. Can't wait to go back there. In fact, this trip turned into a series of visits to airports I've never seen before. It's kind of like that scene in the Patton movie where George C Scott says "I can smell a battlefield."  I am the same way with airports. All told, I stopped at six airports in this trip. Few pictures, though. 

On with the trip. Here is the Diablo Dam, of Seattle City Light. This is at the west foot of the North Cascades pass, the low end. Something like 2000 ft elevation here. 

Interesting pass from a pilot's perspective. The east end still has snow in the second week of May. Its 5300 ft at ground level, and I wouldn't fly it below 6000 ft, but the peaks immediately surrounding are in the 8500 ft range. And it's quite a long pass, around 40 miles. As passes go, Snoqualmie is much lower, shorter, and amenable to engine failure. And if you're really a chicken, just fly the Gorge. The highest spot on the way to the Gorge is just east of Colfax. 

And I'd never been to Winthrop (the entire Methow Valley for that matter) before, and it turned out to be THE perfect week for doing so. The locust trees in Winthrop were in full bloom. And I've never seen thicker or smelled more fragrant locust blossoms. Everywhere by the river. 

The above pic shows my seat and beer (a wonderful milky stout) for lunch at "The Schoolhouse" brewpub. It was actually hard to find the place. I saw the sign by a skinny door/building that I walked right by, wondering "where is this brewpub?" Turns out the building is sort of triangular, narrow as the door at the front and widening as it backs to the river. Plus the Main Street entrance is 10 ft above the river bank, so the back patio has two levels, the lower, larger one being right on the river bank with a beautiful natural canopy of locust blossoms. 

And the blossoms, here hanging right over my head, imparted a lovely scent reminiscent of orange blossom water, which was exceptionally complimentary to my meal. Well, that was a lucky find. 

It was so nice that I bought a tshirt. 

I poked the nose of the car into the Winthrop and Twist airports, but saw nothing of interest until the Pateros airport where I found a passel of Sikorsky CH-34 (Choctaws). Not sure what they're used for. Didn't stop to ask. 

Lots of them. 

But the real find at the Pateros airport was the future tour bus of my new band: "Electric Love Bucket." I should have found out who owned it, but, again, I didn't stop to ask. 

All this airport and scenery touring ended when dusk (and the wandering deer) caught up to me at Grand Coulee, so I got a hotel for the night. 

Tomorrow: Steamboat Rock. 

The Great Dry Falls

Awhile ago I decided to take a day flight around eastern Washington to see the Great Dry Falls. Long story, but what are we here for if not to tell and read a long story. 

10,000 years ago a glacier repeatedly blocked the mouth of the Clark Fork River where in enters Pend Orielle Lake in northern Idaho. This ice dam caused a lake to form in Missoula about a a thousand feet deep. Glacial Lake Missoula. About every 50 years the water would get deep enough to float the ice dam, breaking it up and the entire lake would empty through eastern Washington and the Columbia River in four to ten days. This occurred at least 50 times, and probably more like 75. 

A look at eastern Washington on google maps easily shows where the water coursed. 

All the land that is brown is where the floods repeatedly ran. 

All this info is detailed in the book “Cataclysms on the Columbia”, which should be required reading for anyone traversing eastern Washington. 

So I headed WNW from pullman for about an hour to reach Steamboat Rock, at the head of Banks Lake, which was a higher dry coulee below (in river speak) but above (in altitude) Grand Coulee Dam. The dam uses Banks Lake as a reservoir, pumping water up into it for use as part of the Columbia Basin Project or for later electrical generation. 

Steamboat Rock is at least four times larger than an aircraft carrier, and a couple hundred feet above the lake. It’s quite fun to hike around on. It is a rock in the middle of a coulee that withstood the floods. 


This pic gives a better idea of what a coulee is. Eastern Washington has layer upon layer of basalt, deposited by volcanos on either side. Rainier, Adams, on the west, the great Yellowstone on the east. The floods came through and tore up large longitudinal swaths through ten or twenty layers of basalt, each about 10 feet deep, which end up as u-shaped valleys of up to 200 ft depth, an drywall but 10 days very 50 years. 

Note the top of the plateau which has little soil. Where ever the water ran, it stripped the rich soil, most of which ended up in the Willamette Valley - read the book for details on Lakes Wallulla, Condon, and Willamette, which only existed for 50 or so days every 50 years. 

Yes, the soil was a couple hundred feet deep in eastern Washington, a very rich loam created by eons of volcanic ash deposits. It was all as rich as the farming area called “The Palouse”, on the border of eastern Washington and north Idaho, but most was washed away by the floods. 


Back to the story. I flew south down Banks Lake, at the end of which is the Great Dry Falls. Here is the approach to the falls. Note that I am 1000 ft up at this point, and that is a road crossing the dam at the end of Banks lake, with tiny little cars on it. The picture cannot capture the entire field of view, which runs from 45 to my left to the same angle on the right. 

This waterfall was three times the size of Niagara. 


Same place, looking to the left. The falls were in the trench. 


And to the right. 


Half of the fall is a trench to the left (east) that can only be seen from the air, or by boating the lake that sits at the foot of the 10 story falls. I have yet to kayak that, but it’s on my todo list. 


The western half of the falls have eroded back up to the north and cane be viewed from the overlook on the highway on the west side of the pit. You can barely see the visitors center on the far side of the Dry Falls. 

Staircase Rapids

Here's the next installment on my "Hiking the Scablands" series.  Unfortunately, there is very little hiking to be had on this entry.  Maybe 10 ft.

But there is interesting Missoula Floods geology, so I'm posting it. Today's lesson takes place about 6 miles NE of Washtucna, on Hasse Rd. 

This is a blowup of the small square in the first image. Missoula floods, read up in my previous posts, or elsewhere on the web.  In this case, the flood was 2 1/2 miles wide down a series of 20 ft falls a mile or so apart -- at least four steps.  That's right -- a large waterfall in four twenty-foot drops, 2 1/2 miles wide and 4 miles long.

Above I've outlined two of the cliffs (the cliffs are below my line, so I wouldn't obliterate the cliffs on the image).  The arrows show the flow of water.  The X is were I stood when taking the below pictures.  Note the piece of the Palouse still standing in the middle of the second row of falls, splitting the flow.

This is looking to the west (sorry, into the setting sun).  Here is a dry fall 2 1/2 miles long and 20 foot deep.

Looking down flow, to the SW, you can see the one remaining Palouse hill splitting the flow.

And a zoom in the same general direction barely shows the next drop a mile or so downstream.

This land is now all fenced off and used for cattle, but you used to could hike the first ridge from the west end.  Sorry, no hiking today.  I mean to fly down these rapids at low level this summer.  I don't have a go-pro camera, and wouldn't expect it to give the same effect as being in the airplane with all of the peripheral sights necessary to get the full effect anyway.

Next entry: I do have aircraft photos of the Great Dry Falls from an airplane last summer, and steamboat rock.  It's on my todo list to hike what I can of it, and that will be a mighty bit of hiking, assuming it's all accessible.