Here's the blog I wrote last week to bring you up to speed. I couldn't post it at the time, but here it is now. To keep you wanting more:
Vild Fires and Volvo Voes, Among Other Things
It has been said, facetiously, that a lot can happen in a year. I’d tell you that a lot more can happen in even just a few days. For it has indeed been more than a few days since my last entry here and quite a bit has occurred.
First, we must remember the unforgettable lines stamped on each copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy: Don’t Panic. Digest those words, make them your credo, yes, even consider having them tattooed in fluorescent ink inside your eyelids.
We arrived in Columbia Falls, Montana, on Sunday afternoon, August 5th, around 2 p.m. After a warm greeting from Paul and Melissa, and meeting their daughter Zadie for the first time, we set to work on pressing matters. Which were? Extracting the fly fishing gear from the car and then lifting the car over our heads and shaking all the bags, toys, and assorted detritus of the road trip loose from every nook and cranny a Volvo offers. The dirt driveway soon resembled the garbage cans you find at one of those do-it-yourself car washes, the garbage cans right next to the industrial strength vacuums. Disgusting. Stuart was soon out on Spoon Lake with “Uncle” Paul in one of the canoes here at the cabin, while Elliot and Toby rejoiced in being set free from the bondage of their car seats.
Monday morning brought our foray into Columbia Falls to buy fishing licenses and to get a feel for what the local waters might hold for the avid fly fisherman. Sprinkled in among the many profanities at Arends Fly Shop was a chuck wagon full of information about the boulders and fast water of the Flathead River. Bull Trout and Westslope Cutthroat Trout run in these water, as well as rainbows deep in fast runs. But there was a clear warning that proved very accurate about the Flathead, particularly the North Fork where we are doing much of our river fishing: The water is “gin clear” and a helluva lot deeper than it looks. That spot where you think you might find yourself thigh-deep is actually going to put you in over your head. The water is that clear.
And what beautiful water. Paul and I were out on the main stretch of the Flathead by afternoon, and though we landed no fish, I did have about a dozen hits from trout of varying size. This was Paul’s first serious effort at fly-fishing and he did well. Since Monday, we’ve spent much of our fishing time, for a number of reasons, out on Spoon Lake casting flies for cutthroat trout, which are in abundance in the water here, as well as the dreaded Yellow Perch.
In other, more breathtaking news, we are suffering the effects of at least two of the five major wildfires raging here around Glacier National Park. Due west, beyond Whitefish, MT, a huge fire roars skyward, sending a steady plume of smoke our way. Pretty sad to see, and it does a fair job of wrecking the views within “super scenic” Glacier National Park itself.
Tuesday we went into the park via the North Fork Road, a washboard dirt road 15 miles long – it took 45 minutes. Much of the drive found the trout-laden North Fork of the Flathead on our right and scorched forest on our left (scorched by wildfires four and five years ago. The vistas were stark and gut-wrenching. The ride was butt-busting. But we eventually made it into Glacier and down to MacDonald Lake, where we ate a picnic lunch before the afternoon was washed out by an enormous thunderstorm. No rain fell on the fires (not that it was enough to help anyway), but it was enough to ruin our planned hike.
In the evening, Paul and I ventured onto Spoon Lake in the canoe, fishing from after dinner (7:30) until sunset (9:45). As the sunlight finally broke from the horizon, we were swarmed by the most insistent squadron of bats I have ever encountered – bats which swooped across the bow of the canoe and swirled between Paul at the bow and myself at the stern. The result? Well, I have never paddled a canoe faster in my life. Bats were still dodging our swinging fly rods as we bolted from the shore for the door of the cabin.
Creepy.
This morning we once more drove into Glacier. This time on a paved road. And Volvo struck again. After leaving the booths where the Park Service collects its fees, two warning lights came on in the dash – the transmission was misbehaving. Badly. We were in two cars and the Savelles tried to soldier on over the insistence of the blinking warning lights. Eventually, the weakened transmission (going in and out of “limp home” mode) forced us to abandon our plans within Glacier once more. In the afternoon, Paul followed me as I drove the Volvo into Kalispell to the nearest capable transmission specialist. Nick at Flathead Transmission Services was unable to diagnose to problem, but sent us on to Celtic Motors, where they specialize in Celtic cars. No. Actually, they specialize in Beamers, VeeDubs, and Volvos. At Celtic, they’re nearly positive, once again, that our problem is a faulty sensore. But we won’t know until THEIR diagnostic computer is back from being repaired, possibly a few days.
Not to worry, folks at home. We have some time to spare, and have plans to rent a car and spend the weekend down at Yellowstone and Grand Tetons. If there are major problems with the car, my “friends” at Volvo can expect a court date. And a car I once loved is now slated for the auction block. Seriously. Enough is enough.
Anyway, we’re in fine spirits and continue to have a great time. The landscape out here is awesome, truly, and Spoon Lake itself is home to dozens of loons, which wake us with their haunting morning call. At the far end of the lake a nearly-mature bald eagle has made its home, and we have seen mule deer just a few yards from the front door. Standing on the deck overlooking the lake in the early morning or anytime between 6 p.m. and sunset, you can see the circular ripples made on the surface of th water by rising trout. And despite car trouble, we’re going back to the park as well as heading out for still more wading/fly fishing on the incredible North Fork of the Flathead. And why not? Today, Paul caught his first fish on a fly. Good for him.
Honestly, don’t let our car trouble worry you. We’re not letting it. It’s simply adding some drama to a saggy blog.
And did you guess there’s no WiFi (or Internet to speak of) at the cabin?
It has been said, facetiously, that a lot can happen in a year. I’d tell you that a lot more can happen in even just a few days. For it has indeed been more than a few days since my last entry here and quite a bit has occurred.
First, we must remember the unforgettable lines stamped on each copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy: Don’t Panic. Digest those words, make them your credo, yes, even consider having them tattooed in fluorescent ink inside your eyelids.
We arrived in Columbia Falls, Montana, on Sunday afternoon, August 5th, around 2 p.m. After a warm greeting from Paul and Melissa, and meeting their daughter Zadie for the first time, we set to work on pressing matters. Which were? Extracting the fly fishing gear from the car and then lifting the car over our heads and shaking all the bags, toys, and assorted detritus of the road trip loose from every nook and cranny a Volvo offers. The dirt driveway soon resembled the garbage cans you find at one of those do-it-yourself car washes, the garbage cans right next to the industrial strength vacuums. Disgusting. Stuart was soon out on Spoon Lake with “Uncle” Paul in one of the canoes here at the cabin, while Elliot and Toby rejoiced in being set free from the bondage of their car seats.
Monday morning brought our foray into Columbia Falls to buy fishing licenses and to get a feel for what the local waters might hold for the avid fly fisherman. Sprinkled in among the many profanities at Arends Fly Shop was a chuck wagon full of information about the boulders and fast water of the Flathead River. Bull Trout and Westslope Cutthroat Trout run in these water, as well as rainbows deep in fast runs. But there was a clear warning that proved very accurate about the Flathead, particularly the North Fork where we are doing much of our river fishing: The water is “gin clear” and a helluva lot deeper than it looks. That spot where you think you might find yourself thigh-deep is actually going to put you in over your head. The water is that clear.
And what beautiful water. Paul and I were out on the main stretch of the Flathead by afternoon, and though we landed no fish, I did have about a dozen hits from trout of varying size. This was Paul’s first serious effort at fly-fishing and he did well. Since Monday, we’ve spent much of our fishing time, for a number of reasons, out on Spoon Lake casting flies for cutthroat trout, which are in abundance in the water here, as well as the dreaded Yellow Perch.
In other, more breathtaking news, we are suffering the effects of at least two of the five major wildfires raging here around Glacier National Park. Due west, beyond Whitefish, MT, a huge fire roars skyward, sending a steady plume of smoke our way. Pretty sad to see, and it does a fair job of wrecking the views within “super scenic” Glacier National Park itself.
Tuesday we went into the park via the North Fork Road, a washboard dirt road 15 miles long – it took 45 minutes. Much of the drive found the trout-laden North Fork of the Flathead on our right and scorched forest on our left (scorched by wildfires four and five years ago. The vistas were stark and gut-wrenching. The ride was butt-busting. But we eventually made it into Glacier and down to MacDonald Lake, where we ate a picnic lunch before the afternoon was washed out by an enormous thunderstorm. No rain fell on the fires (not that it was enough to help anyway), but it was enough to ruin our planned hike.
In the evening, Paul and I ventured onto Spoon Lake in the canoe, fishing from after dinner (7:30) until sunset (9:45). As the sunlight finally broke from the horizon, we were swarmed by the most insistent squadron of bats I have ever encountered – bats which swooped across the bow of the canoe and swirled between Paul at the bow and myself at the stern. The result? Well, I have never paddled a canoe faster in my life. Bats were still dodging our swinging fly rods as we bolted from the shore for the door of the cabin.
Creepy.
This morning we once more drove into Glacier. This time on a paved road. And Volvo struck again. After leaving the booths where the Park Service collects its fees, two warning lights came on in the dash – the transmission was misbehaving. Badly. We were in two cars and the Savelles tried to soldier on over the insistence of the blinking warning lights. Eventually, the weakened transmission (going in and out of “limp home” mode) forced us to abandon our plans within Glacier once more. In the afternoon, Paul followed me as I drove the Volvo into Kalispell to the nearest capable transmission specialist. Nick at Flathead Transmission Services was unable to diagnose to problem, but sent us on to Celtic Motors, where they specialize in Celtic cars. No. Actually, they specialize in Beamers, VeeDubs, and Volvos. At Celtic, they’re nearly positive, once again, that our problem is a faulty sensore. But we won’t know until THEIR diagnostic computer is back from being repaired, possibly a few days.
Not to worry, folks at home. We have some time to spare, and have plans to rent a car and spend the weekend down at Yellowstone and Grand Tetons. If there are major problems with the car, my “friends” at Volvo can expect a court date. And a car I once loved is now slated for the auction block. Seriously. Enough is enough.
Anyway, we’re in fine spirits and continue to have a great time. The landscape out here is awesome, truly, and Spoon Lake itself is home to dozens of loons, which wake us with their haunting morning call. At the far end of the lake a nearly-mature bald eagle has made its home, and we have seen mule deer just a few yards from the front door. Standing on the deck overlooking the lake in the early morning or anytime between 6 p.m. and sunset, you can see the circular ripples made on the surface of th water by rising trout. And despite car trouble, we’re going back to the park as well as heading out for still more wading/fly fishing on the incredible North Fork of the Flathead. And why not? Today, Paul caught his first fish on a fly. Good for him.
Honestly, don’t let our car trouble worry you. We’re not letting it. It’s simply adding some drama to a saggy blog.
And did you guess there’s no WiFi (or Internet to speak of) at the cabin?
2 comments:
Shoulda gotten the minivan buddy. No, its not sexy and its not European - but it is oh so suburbia - with plenty of room for all types of car seats and dogs.
Sounds like quite a trip and you're right, it wouldn't be the same without the car troubles... Seriously though it sounds amazing...
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