End of Hitch One, Canada Day, Polebridge, Independence Day
I woke up on the couch of the Fish House after another late night at Fritas from the sun glaring down through the window. We had to celebrate the end of hitch one. It was entertaining, but quite a struggle. Multiple times during the 9 days groups had to turn back from a trail due to high creeks, blocked roads and snow. Those three things seem to be major symbols of this blog, but it’s what’s on all of our minds. How will we be able to do three passes on every tree in the park and the Whitefish range, if we are already behind pace, and if there is no relief in sight?
Well, good news came in the form of a string of gorgeous hot, sunny days, and they led us right into our Off-hitch, which almost makes me dread going back into the field tomorrow, but just almost. I’m currently sitting in the laundry matt in Coram, reviewing the crazy-fun days we had over the holiday and preparing to head across the boarder Waterton National Park in Canada to hike back through Goat Haunt and the Belly River.
Canada Day: July 1st
From the Fish House couch the entertainment began. I called my roommate, Evan, who crashed at the Amphibian House next door to see if he wanted a ride back into town, and it turned out that he was attempting to hitch hike back already and was half way there. So I picked him up, and we decided to get the rest of our crew to go thrift store and grocery shopping. On our way out of West Glacier we noticed the Alberta Visitor Center was crowded and sporting flags and hockey jerseys. It was Canada Day, and even I had no idea it fell on July 1st. Looks like Canada trumps the U.S. in at least one category.
We stopped by and received free hot dogs and paper Canadian Flags. Our Canadian holiday is only beginning. Logically, thrift stores came first on our list. We went to a used sports store and found plastic roller blades. Lights went on in the five of our heads. How fun would it be to roller blade to Apgar to get huckleberry ice cream and look like idiots doing it? The thought was irresistible, but we waited to see what the rest of the thrift stores had.
Turns out the next stop had skates, and we were all able to find skates that fit. They came in all color combinations: straight black, purple, pink and green. The only other objects I purchased were an electric teakettle for a dollar (totally going to be donated to the Kaimin Kitchen) and a knife for 50 cents.
We strapped on those skates and booked it down to the U.S.G.S. office, where we got some of the biggest laughs imaginable, and from there we traveled down the worst bumpy paved road to Apgar. I’ve never worked so hard to skate so slow in my life. I need some WD40 and lube for round two next off hitch. The folks in Apgar gave us some priceless looks. It was as if they looked at us in our eyes, they’d come down with the roller skating disease, said Bobby.
The huckleberry ice cream was delicious as well as the late afternoon sun that fell on Lake McDonald. We turned around to get to Polebridge, where we would spend majority of the next four days.
Polebridge is not a town, city or even a village. The closest thing I could categorize it may be a commune. The winter population is 8, said a local, as we shot off fireworks in his back yard. “There are two that live in the mercantile, two in the saloon and us four.” The settlement rests on the fault line of the Livingston Mountain Range in the North Fork of the Flathead River valley, where the water’s still freezing from the melting snow and glacial lakes.
The mercantile could easily have the best baked-goods in the country, and the bakers wake up at 5:30 every morning to the sound of the single power generator in the field out back. They cook up hundreds of sandwiches, cookies and pastries and ring up tourists, park employees and locals on an old-fashioned till that might have been used when the merc first opened its doors. It’s powered by 30 percent solar and the most of the rest of the energy is in the form of propane stoves and lanterns.
The first night we set up camp behind our new friend Lauren’s cabin. It was pizza and volleyball night, so the saloon cooked up homemade pizzas that we washed down with pitchers of Kokanee (for Canada Day of course). The volleyball didn’t end until all we could see was a white ball against the black night and the slightly illuminated Rainbow and Numa peaks in the distance.
July 2nd
I’ve never locked my keys in my car, but that all changed the morning of the 2nd. I’m starting to get the reputation of a walking disaster. One of the hikes last hitch I decided to hook my Chacos to the back pocket of my backpack, and every mile or so I would realize that it was wide open and shit was falling out in the trail. All ended well, when the North Fork Trail crew called a few mornings later to tell us that they found my sunscreen, head lamp and backpack rain fly.
Anyways, we were all set to hike up to the lookout on Numa Peak. Breakfast sandwiches and coffee in hand, we left the parking lot, when I realized I left my socks in my car. I left it unlocked with all of our wallets, keys and phones inside. I had the employees of the merc looking after my car, since the crime rate there is so high…
I grabbed my socks, locked the door and shut it.
The shit show began. The owner of the mercantile was expecting a shipment of 6 portapoties for the 4th of July festivities, and my car was right where they wanted to place them. She told me not to worry, enjoy the hike and she’ll try to find a way to unlock it, because she was going into town.
The hike was brilliant. We hit snow a couple hundred feet from the look out and continued to trek through it as Bowman Lake glowed a blue that only exists in Glacier Park. It’s from the glacial silt I’m told. Rainbow and Square peaks stared at us on the other side as well as the snow covered peaks of the Whitefish Range across the valley. Those 12 miles were a perfect way to get the locked car off my mind, but I soon had to face it.
We got back around 7 pm. The owner bought a lock jimmy from an auto shop, and Bobby, Cayley and I took turns hacking into my car under the hot afternoon sun. People came and went, giving us tips or a hand, but nothing worked, so I used Lauren’s AAA card to get a tow truck out to the 45 miles of dirt road. They were nice enough and said they’d get there in an hour.
That hour passed, when another employee found me and said that AAA was on the phone. It turned out that it would be a $100 surcharge, because it’s a “special” road to get up there. I told them I’d pay with some snarky comments about how it took an hour to figure that fact out.
As I hung up the phone, one of the guys who was working with us found me to say they’re making progress. I checked it out, and realized that this might be legitimate. So I raced back inside to cancel the truck.
At the shit show’s height, we had two tire irons propped into the window with a clothes hanger, a metal meter stick and the jimmy inside, attempting to grab either the handle, the latch or the unlock button. The thought of calling AAA back was only a few seconds away, when Grant, a local, got dropped off. He laughed and commented on our struggle. He told us that he has years experience breaking into cars at Big Mountain. I decided otherwise to ask if it was to help or to steal, but within 5 minutes of his arrival, he was able to push the unlock button with the meter stick.
And after a celebratory pitcher of Kokanee and free day old Polebridge sandwiches, we arrived back in West Glacier a little before midnight.
Independence Day
We brought reinforcements to Polebridge the next day. All of our bear crew and amphibian crew were present and even some of the fish crew. Who knew that this tiny place could put up such a 4th of July party?
We camped on the banks of the North Fork on the 3rd and made our way down the dirt road to witness the thousand or so people lining the parking lot and entrance. The parade was about to begin. The mercantile was closed for an hour, and the line at the door remained until the conclusion to get the best spot for lunch and cases of beer.
There may have been 5 floats, and it took about a half hour to complete the whole circuit. Once the parade finished, volleyball and beer was back on. It was an all day drink fest, but I still can’t tell if I was ever drunk. I guess I found out at the fire, when I hit a brick wall thanks to a local’s generous offering of devils lettuce.
I’m not one to be patriotic, but I thoroughly enjoyed this Independence Day, and all the locals were hooting and hollering about ‘Merica, and how fortunate we were to be free and in Polebridge in this country.
The Polebridge Porch Band assembled on the far side of the fire, and Devin the MC, rambled on about whisky in his whisky, as he drank more PBR. The first song was brought to us by PBR he said and sang a song about dandelions.
Oh lonely little dandelion seeds
Looking for a place to be
but everyone thinks your just a weed
but he’s just looking for a home.
Then the bluegrass began, and I doubt those are the lyrics, but they’re close enough. The guitars, mandolins and beers were passed around the fire to those who wanted to play, and we made it back to camp under the stars.
Ever thought you were like a dandelion seed?
Happy Birthday North ‘Merica all in one long weekend.
back to the backcountry.
cheers
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