About Glacier National Park. I shall give you the somewhat condensed version, or you’ll be here reading until dinner.
First, let me say that I have never been — nor shall I ever be — someone who likes to camp. “Roughing it in nature” and “vacation” are not synonymous in my lexicon. K? K. Still, I wanted to have the back-to-nature experience at this great location. So back in March, I reserved a “small cabin” at beautiful Lake McDonald.
Now, when you think of the phrase “small cabin,” what image pops into your head? Something like this, right? Well you’d be correct, because that was our cabin. Sort of. The reality is it that only one fourth of the “small cabin” belonged to us. This fourth. This is the small cabin I reserved for $130? A room with an old-fashioned, two-fauceted sink, and a shower so small I kept bashing my elbows on the wall while washing my hair?
But hey, it gets better. Let me backtrack.
As we crossed Montana, our sunny skies, as predicted by the weatherman, turned gray. By the time we were able to glimpse the mountains miles in the distance, it was starting to rain. And the temperature dropped seemingly with every mile.
At the entrance to the park, it was 44 degrees and raining, and that is how it stayed. No matter, though; we still got to drive on Going to the Sun Road — one of the main reasons we wanted to go to Glacier in the first place. So here we go…here it is!
Closed. CLOSED? Closed. For repairs.
OK, no prob — that doesn’t dampen our spirits. We’ll check into the lodge, get situated in our cabin, and go exploring. After the initial shock of the appearance of our lodgings wore off, we set out (with me in my winter coat and hood) to see what there was to see.
At this point in my snark-filled treatise, I will say that Lake McDonald has got to be one of the most gorgeous places on earth. (See the photo.) And the lodge is beautiful; we had a nice dinner in the rustic ambience of their restaurant, and enjoyed a nice (albeit brief — it was pouring down rain) walk around the grounds.
We also didn’t mind that there was no cell service, no internet and no TV. The Thriller spent the last two hours before bed poring over maps and park literature, and I read my Nook. It was great. I guess it was the fact that the Sun road was closed (not anyone’s fault, really), and that the weather was completely crappy (I shall blame God for that).
OK, that plus the gargantuan cluster that was our “small cabin.” I must have missed a memo somewhere.
ANYWAY…we decided that the rain was not going to hinder us, so after dinner and the brief stroll, we got in the car and drove as far as the road would let us. We stopped for some stunning views, and I had to take some video of the rushing Flathead River, as it raced towards Lake McDonald.
At the end of the evening, after reading, it was time for bed. The double bed was fine, as long as you didn’t move. A muscle. Creak, creak, crackle, groan, honk, squeakity squeakem squeaker. Dear Lord in heaven. So not “vacation.” And I don’t feel guilty about wanting to be pampered on vacation, any more than I begrudge camping enthusiasts their feelings about getting down and dirty in the unspoiled confines of a tent in the wilderness. Whatever floats yer boat, mate.
Back to my tale. By 3:30 a.m., we were both laughing, because it was either that or kill someone. After the Thriller came back from a potty break and announced that “there was an ant the size of a helicopter in the bathroom; he’s gone now,” I buried my head in the crook of his arm (he always smells like fabric softener — I love that), and we decided to just make the coffee and get on with the day. So, here I am, on the laptop in the car, just outside Kalispell, ready for our jaunt to Spokane for the evening.
Who knows…perhaps we’ll do Glacier another year. But I can tell you for certain that if we do the Lake McDonald cabins again, I will talk a lot more to the reservation droids. Still, a good experience, and despite the weather, I’m glad we went.
I think. HA