The Pigotts of Keno, Oregon

Fred and Cindi Pigott of Klamath Falls, Oregon, have been our friends for just about forever, for Cindi and I over 30+ years. Cindi is a psychiatric nurse and Fred is the 'house god' and a darn good one, too! I must also add that they are the official Mrs. Claus and Santa Claus for the Klamath Basin!

After more than thirty days on the rails, we needed some friends, even for just a day. Cindi and Fred are true friends - who else would pick up a couple of tired souls at 10 p.m., have a bed ready, and the next day clear their busy schedules for a marathon of talking, eating, talking, eating, laughing, sharing the events since we had last spent time talking, eating, talking, eating, laughing?

Cindi is a knitter, too, so we knitted, lost stitches together, and knitted some more. It was a really busy day.

They live in Keno, near the Klamath River on a few acres and enjoy the amenites of growing a garden, raising chickens and knowing all their neighbors. Wanda, a neighbor, stopped by to let Fred know one of his chickens was on the road and she had given up chasing it.

Cindi shared her homemade feta cheese, hand-picked berries in a homemade pie and Fred honored us with bar-b-qued ribs (with a special sauce, no doubt), fresh picked beets and green beans (purple until they're cooked) Home Grown Delicious, cooked with love, eaten with passion!

At the end of the day, Cindi delivered us to the station - the train would be on time - darn, but we would meet again soon, for sure.

Bob and I slept better than other night on our trip and I know the reason why. Good friends, good food, good laughs, and a promise we would be together soon. Who wouldn't feel content with a day of home grown friendship?

Did I hear that correctly?

2:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. Saturday - Portland to Klamath Falls

My listening skills have become much more acute - or is that eavesdropping skills - in the last thirty days. I have noticed that my ears catch phrases and sentences as I walk or sit near others who are having conversations, and my imagination takes over.

Great fodder for stories or just to wonder: The Storytellers and the Listener

Our seats were assigned for the trip from Portland to Klamath Falls, Oregon. Behind Bob and I sat a man and a woman, strangers until they boarded. He promptly announced to his seatmate, "I am going to sleep the entire way. If I snore, and I promise, I will, just nudge me." She agreed to comply, but asked one question, "You're going to Klamath, too?"

Not a moment of silence, not a snore was snorted the entire 8 hour trip. (Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, Bob and I left our seats to the quiet of the observation car for part of that time, but I would be willing to bet they did not take a breather, a nap, nor a bathroom break.)

For a person who loves to hear people talk, I was fascinated. Every aspect of each of their lives were revealed: childhood, school years, college, first jobs, last jobs, military experience, marriages, children, step-children, parents, religion, spouses' employment, fun times, bad times, best times, every time in their lives. Susan even offered to share her "blankie", but Paul declined.

The woman, Susan, asked Paul most of the questions and he answered with stories complete with beginning, middle, and ending. She rounded out each phase with her own story or summarized what he shared.

I remember: that Paul had won $17,000 in one night in Las Vegas - he shared the rest of story about how he lost most of it -

I think both were storytellers and loved to talk, question, and what was so unusual is that both listened to each other - I did not detect any interruptions, any hesitancy, any exasperation's during their exchanges, only acceptance. Maybe the art of conversation is not dead!

I remember: that Susan had been a dance major in college, but returned to college after she turned 40 to become a nurse. She now only dances in church. At one point she prayed for Paul.

When the conductor announced we were now in Klamath, I thought for sure there would be a big hug, "see you soon." But, "goodbye" was said in unison, their last word together.

I wonder, since they both live in Klamath Falls, if they meet each other on the street or in the market, will they be able to continue with their day's plan when asked, "how you doing?"

I felt privileged (and, of course, pretended not to have heard a word) to share in their 8 hour talkathon - and even though Susan possessed a witch's cackle laugh ( at times and I wished and prayed that Paul would not say anything funny for Susan to respond to) - I would not have minded sitting in the middle.

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10:00 p.m. Sunday night

Klamath Falls Amtrak Station sitting on the pews waiting for the train to arrive:

Sitting directly behind me was an elderly lady, about as big as a lady bug, dressed in a black velvet pantsuit, trimmed in gold braid, complete with a velvet beret.

She began her conversation with the gentleman sitting next to her, apparently a friend of a friend who had given her a ride to the station,

"I never rode a train in the USA until I was forty, but I had ridden trains in England, Russia, Africa, and Asia when I was much younger." No response.

She continued, "In London, for my first train ride as a young woman, I was so excited. I asked a man who was standing nearby to please take my picture since this would be my first ride on a train. He went to great lengths to make sure I stood just right in front of the huge locomotive. I said, 'thank you very much,' and we both went our separate ways.

"Within a few minutes a young man ran up to me calling, 'stop, stop,' and put into my hand an emerald, a good size emerald that I have to this day."

No questions, nothing - I wanted to jump over that bench and sit at her feet, "tell me more, tell me more." (Even if it was a 'once upon a time' story)

Her friend did have his own story which he mumbled about meeting General McCarthy's daughter at a train station, but he added no details. The lady waited, and added a few more tidbits, "I've met many famous people, like the time that President Eisenhower bought me a glass of wine. And, the time I had my picture taken with Bishop TuTu in South Africa."

She then encouraged him to get on home to his wife and that she could wait on her own since the train would be here soon.

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Portland Street People

The heart of Portland is more than just the inner city. There is something more here that sets it apart from Chicago, Milwaukee, and the Twin Cities. In each city I practiced observing the people as I walked to see what I could see. Besides, cheap entertainment, I got some exercise, had some conversations and would return to any of these big cities anytime.

In Portland I saw the interaction of street people, people who really do live their lives on the street with tourists, businessmen and women, students, families, everybody. A couple of words describe my observations: tolerance, acceptance. We were all in close contact, but not touching, not talking, moving around each other - like a fast dance.

Images that I will remember

Young girls on different corners, 20ish, sitting on the sidewalk surrounded by backpacks, pillows, shoes - very organized - kind of like they all belonged to a club with the same set up. The girls sat alone, not in groups, and did not hold signs, money cans, or ask for money.

Young guys, also 20ish, but in groups of two or three huddled with their stuff, but always with a sign, some creative like, "visions of pizza." The boys also made noise either drumming the same beat over and over again on plastic buckets or talking loud to be seen and heard. All had a container to drop money in.

Older women, no teeth, wrapped in blankets with their money can rattling, usually near the light rail. They always tried to get our attention.

An agitated man, with hair out of control to match his actions. He was washing his bloody forearms (looked scratched and picked at) in a fancy four spout drinking fountain on street corner. He was ranting to the people nearby who were waiting for a bus. I was going in the same direction and followed him as he walked around City Hall scratching his arms. I assume drug use is rampant here.

A teenage boy asking for 25 or 50 cents from people on the light rail. He worked the entire car without any givers, some nodded 'no' others just turned away. I had seen him the day before, but he had gotten a $1 from a woman.

A young woman and her baby sat nearby at a coffee shop. As she got up to leave and began packing up all her baby stuff, I made a comment that I remembered hauling all that stuff many years ago. She said offhandedly, "I'm homeless. I won't be able to leave a tip for the girls." And, then she was out the door. The waitresses came over and said they were going to buy her food - but she had left the money on the table. She had told them the same thing like she had said, "I'm from out of town." They had never seen her before. She had Gerber's for the baby, both were clean and looked like they were in town for a day of shopping.

After that encounter, I noticed many more young women with big backpacks, or pulling suitcases on rollers carrying a baby or pushing a stroller. The scene made me take a second look wondering if they were at home on the street.

A man sitting on the sidewalk across from Powell's Books taking up most of the corner with cartons of leftover food, bags of stuff, and items like an ipod wrapped with duck tape and a radio. He was very busy organizing his space. The crowds just circumnavigated his area.

I didn't notice as many older men. Any that I did see were going someplace with a purpose, not lingering like the others.

To understand what I think about these situations, I'll need some time and more information.


Otherwise, the others were busy on their iphones, either playing games, texting, or talking. As I mentioned earlier, many read books at the transit stops. Many people eating and drinking in groups or alone at the many, many outdoor cafes and pubs. The most crowded store was Nordstorm Rack. (guess how I knew?)

Another Beautiful Day in Portland

We have lucked out with the outstanding weather, clear and cool, during our visits to the big cities. Portland is no exception. Today I headed to the Portland Art Museum downtown.

I was ready not to watch the people, but look at some art. The museum is in the 'cultural district' where the history museum is located, plus a few live theatres and bistros. A beautiful park with statues and fountains - blooming roses - separate the buildings. About 50 skateboarders were hanging out enjoying the cement around the fountain.

The museum, like all I have visited, is a wonderful place full of masterpieces. Portland's museum has exquisite exhibits of Asian and Native American art plus many modern pieces, four floors worth. I stayed the entire afternoon.

On the fourth Friday of the month from 5-8 pm, entrance is free, plus there's free food and music. I was on my way out when I saw the crepe caterer and a string quartet setting up. But I had shopping to do or more walking.

I headed to Lloyd's Center - a huge enclosed shopping area east of Williamette River and near the Convention Center. I was surprised to see an ice rink in the middle of the mall filled with skaters! It was a cool place to be in more than one way. Throughout the mall are very comfortable chairs, usually in pairs with a small table in between. Many were occupied with people sharing conversations, having drinks and snacks.

Today I noticed police out and about more than yesterday. On foot, on bikes, on segways, in cars - they were everywhere.

Tomorrow we leave Portland in the early afternoon and, hopefully, arrive in Klamath Falls at 10:00 p.m. Cindi and Fred will be there to meet us and we can't wait for a visit in a living room, no take out, with some great friends.

Portland

Portland is easy to maneuver as long as you know which way you are going, north, south, east or west, that is. I caught the free light rail intending to walk throughout the town and ending up at Powell's Bookstore, the largest independent store in the USA! Digital boards inform riders of rail and bus information. Portland is a moving city, not only on public transit, but many walkers, bikers and skateboarders (both ride on the sidewalk) and, of course, cars and trucks.

I thought I was following the map, but nevertheless, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city almost gave up my quest --- and just around the corner I found Powell's. It was all I had dreamed it to be - 4 or more floors, full shelves everywhere, well-marked, only the sound of turning pages - filled with readers.

A few observations as I spent the afternoon walking:

An Italian Festival in Pioneer Square, free with food and singing, dancing and grape crushing going on for three days

Recycling very accessible. Billboards, store fronts promoting 'green' efforts

Woman riding a bike with a small covered trailer delivering 'take out' from area restuarants

Small cars advertising 'wheels when you need them' - looked like people who ride bikes or take public transit rent the car when they need different wheels.

Portland has a Chinatown

Many more homeless people than other cities, most striking - the young girls who were camped out with all their stuff on the street - and boys, one had a sign "visions of pizza"

Good place to people watch. Usually I take pictures of the outside art, but in Portland the sculptures are here, rather subtle and subdued. The people were more interesting, but my camera doesn't have a good zoom and it's not too cool to get in their faces. Although, I did see people with camera sitting on benches (many places to sit in Portland) zooming in on people.

Lots of music - like drumming on 5 gal. plastic buckets, violin

At the bus and rail stops people reading - didn't see that in the other cities

City center filled with top brand stores: Tiffany & Co., Saks, Nordstorm, Coach, Brooks Brothers, etc. - a few blocks away another "mall" with the same high end stores --

A block of individual "roach coaches" selling any kind of food you want - all painted in different colors and resembled playhouses

Was asked for directions more than once - do I look like I know where I'm going?

Got the feeling people are very tolerable, accepting - considering the diversity of the people within the city.

Many young people - University of Portland within city limits - ? Or, they like the social life - many cafes, bars, - seemed like a lot of groups of 3 or 4 doing the city.

Play a Little Music

The piano is one of 8 that are placed in public places around Everett, like the library, cafes, a few businesses, etc. The pianos are decorated and are real street art. As I've traveled on this trip - street art has really captured my attention and delighted me whenever I find it, by accident.

No one played while we waited for our train, darn!

We rode the Cascade, a commuter train between Bellingham (northern WA) to Portland. We had a movie, if you had earphones, leather seats, a table and a very quiet ride - even though the passengers seemed to be mostly students.

Although, we began the ride sitting across from a retired couple from Arizona who had lived in the Seattle area and shared their experiences of sailing their boat in the Sound. - Then sat across from a young man, 28, who shared info about his job of auditing companies who want to be certified as using natural resources in a responsible sustainable way - like certifying organic foods, kind of. He had an interesting backstory -- I am getting really good at asking questions finding out stuff - good thing this was a short ride.

Bob is napping, but we are in city center near the free light rail and free street car lines so I plan on hitting the town soon.

POWELLS , the biggest bookstore in the whole world is here - page me when the train is here!

Over the Sea and Through the Woods

5:00 a.m. comes early, but we were in the ferry line to cross the inlet from Whidbey Island to Port Townsend at 6:30 a.m. along with about thirty other drivers.

Instead of touring Port Townsend (a place that warrants at least a day of checking out) we headed to Port Angeles to enter Olympic National Park.

The entrance to the park is just a few miles from town and a road leads to Hurricane Ridge, 17 miles from the entrance, for an inside view of the park and outside view of Mt. Rainer, Mt. Baker and the Puget Sound - spectacular. GREEN TREES WITHOUT A BREAK FOR AS FAR AS YOU CAN SEE!

We had flown near the peaks on trips to Whidbey or Friday Harbor or Alaska in the past, and knew the Olympic range must be a wonderland. There are more glaciers there than anyplace in the lower 48 (funny, that was not mentioned at Glacier Park)

Washington is not called the Evergreen State for nothing. We didn't see any signs of the rust beetle disease that is killing the trees in the Rockie Mountain west.

The forest is full of trails - not crowded - not commercial - no inns - The road ends at the vista point - that's it. If you want, and if we had time we would, you can travel 101 around the park making a loop ending at the bottom of the peninsula.

We had a plan to visit three parks: Olympic, Rainier, and Cascade.

Park #2 to Rainier, about a 2 hour drive through the back roads of WA, crossed a toll bridge into Tacoma and headed east through some small towns and into more trees. Rainier National Park is the MOUNTAIN - which you can see better from Puyallup (about 30 miles west of the peak) Mountain climbers love it.

We entered the park through a dark forest of cedars, redwoods, and ferns - a lot like northern CA - the road to Paradise, where the big visitor's center is located was being worked on and there was a notice that the parking lot was full! Remembrance of Glacier Park's parking facilities. I think many, many Americans decided to visit their parks this summer.

Rainier Park bows to the mountain. It feels like an old place with the thousands of years old trees, not much commercial, lots of trails (that's good) - even though it is a short drive from Seattle there isn't much happending outside the park either, a few cafes, a few, very few motels and that's it. Looks like a good place to get away if you are a hiker.

Anyway, we had a short visit - and skedaddled north to get to Cascade National Park - which was closer to Everett where we would be staying the night and catching the train today.

Best laid plans - we should know better than to be marathon visitors, anyway) Rush hour traffic slowed us down and encouraged us to be thankful we don't have to stop and go every day to work and back home again.

We figured it means another trip to Whidbey and a day trip to the Cascades and Port Townsend. I clocked 700 miles on the rental car - so I'd say we got around.

The Way to Whidbey Island

Discovered an obituary in the Sunday Spokane Spokesman-Review:

Kirk, Lois Sheeley

Date of Birth 4-11-1953

Date of Death Still open, but between today and two months.

(next to her picture) BLOOM WHERE YOU ARE PLANTED

I was surprised by the announcement, thinking those close to her would know her fate, if she is terminally ill, or maybe no one knew and this is her way of getting the word out to as many people as possible in the community. Perhaps, she wanted to share her philosophy in a very real way to make readers think about their own mortality. For whatever reason, I got her message, loud and clear.

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Bob figured out how to turn off the bright overhead light in our roomette compartment, (there is a switch,). Besides finding the dark, the train from Whitefish to Everett rolled along on smooth tracks so sleeping should have been easier. But because of extenuating circumstances like our compartment door off its tracks - almost sent us off our track when we couldn't open it in the middle of the night to go pee! And, the squeakiest brakes on the Amtrak, like fingernails clawing a chalkboard, sounding off around every corner - remember we were going downhill through the mountains, lots of corners. Our steward was a substitute borrowed from the commuter line and he wasn't into the customer service that we had become accustomed to, nor did he get a tip. He wasn't concerned at all about the door's lack of cooperation. We aren't giving up - we will be back at the station on Wednesday.

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Anyway, arrived in Everett in the rain, and the coolest weather since we left Afton. Paid our $25.00 to the taxi driver for a ride to Budget car rental and found our way to Whidbey via the Deception Pass Bridge - too beautiful for words or pictures. All of you must come here to see for yourselves.

Twenty-five years ago, on our way home from Alaska and getting married, we spent four days on the island. Yesterday we drove out to Captain Whidbey Inn where we spent those days. Long ago, our first night there and after a long flight, Bob ordered a martini as big as a basketball - the chef brought out the biggest snifter glass Bob had ever seen and drank every last drop!

The island is as rural and picturesque as we remember it when we looked for property back in the early 90's, before Afton. There are a few more housing developments, but none take out the views, woods, or hay fields.

Bob and I drove all over the island and found Coupeville and Langley, two seaside villages worth a few hours to walk the main streets of ice cream shops, YARN shops, and eateries.

We are staying at the naval base. Last time we were in the Admiral's quarters, and this time we must have kicked out a Rear Admiral - three rooms, 2 tvs, frig/mircrowave, panoramic views of the bay - like Bob says, 'the Navy knows how to take care of their troops.'

Our plan is to take the ferry from Keystone to Port Townsend, a place we have only driven through on past trips, and explore the town and get into Olympic National Park, as much as time allows. The ferry was booked today so tomorrow we have made reservations for 7:15 am - we will see.

We drove out to Keystone terminal to buy our tickets and get the low down on loading for the 30 minutes ride across the inlet. Plan A: visit 3 national parks tomorrow! Olymic, Rainier, and Cascade - we plan on seeing the sign and buy some postcards, and say we've been there.

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BOB LOVES GREEK SALAD! and he loves that blue shirt!

Walkin' Jim Stoltz and others

MORNING IN THE MOUNTAINS by Walkin' Jim Stoltz

So live each day like
You mean it,

Grab hold of each dawn
That comes your way.

And if it's blessings
You're a - countin'

Try a morning in the mountains
There ain't no better way
To start the day.


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We learned about Walkin' Jim Stoltz from Dave Streeter, one of our guides this week. Last night we spent the night singing Dave's original songs (he plays the 5 string banjo and 12 string guitar - Bob loved him at first sight!), Woody Guthrie's and John Denver's classics, and was introduced to the simple, true words of Stoltz.

If you love nature and want to make sure we have woods, grasses, water, and animals alive on this planet today and in the future, definitely check out his website: http://www.walkin

He shares his music, art, poetry, and commentary on his experiences of walking over 28,000 miles throughout this continent - he's done all the big trails like the Pacific Crest, etc.

He's a friend and soul mate of Dave's. Don't forget to check out Doug Follett and Dave Chadwick, too, on the web. That's what Bob and I love about these Elderhostel retreats, we learn so much about places, events, and especially come into contact with real people making a difference.

Forever wild, forever wild
Let it stay forever wild

Is That A Bear Over There?

Cars pulled over to the side, with crowds gathered, all squinting through viewfinders is a pretty good sign there's an animal, a big animal, in the woods. Sure enough, the visitors ahead of us spotted TWO BLACK BEARS!!! Our leaders were amazed at the sighting so close to the park entrance.

Our week in Glacier National Park was a 'bearable' experience.

If you encounter a bear in the woods, what do you do?

Circle your leader, while she yells, "Bear!!!"

Let the slowest runner be the sacrifice.

This one is the official one when encountering a charging grizzly: lay belly down with hands protecting your neck, spread eagle, do not take off your pack. Bear spray is your best bet. Keep it handy and don't spray unless bear is as close as 5 feet.

Do not climb a tree.

Sick, rogue bears are the man killers.

From Walkin' Jim Stoltz, who has walked over 28,000 miles in support of conserving the wild lands, gives the following advice when sleeping in the woods:

1. Tents do protect 2. In black bear country, stay away from where people camp. 3. In grizzly country stay nearer people - grizzlies don't like people as much. 4. Stay away from known bear trails. 5. Urinate around your sleeping area - it seems bears don't like male urine and stay away. (I guess that means you have to take a man along)

Bears are the masters of indifference - they pretend you do not exist, most of the time.

Bears have been around forever. We navigate by 'taking bearings.'

Two bears were hiking on Big Mountain, one looked up to the chair lift as it passed by filled with sightseers, and said, "It's pinata time again."

Big Sky Country Truths

Mountain goats will share their path and lead you over the top of the peak.

We discovered the remnants of wildlife in the trees: a red bra, a lacy bra, a floral bra all left their tracks in the forest.

Huckleberry lust is a must in Montana. Huckleberries are abundant in northwest Montana. Most huckleberry products come from wild Montana berries - it is impossible to raise huckleberries- they are all wild!

Mimicking elk bugles, wolf howls, grizzly roars, or hoary marmot squeaks are not allowed in the National Parks.

It is perfectly acceptable to name a wildflower what you choose, just don't mess with the Latin name.

Glacier National Park is named for the glaciers that formed the geology we see today. Glaciers come and go.

The crystal clear turquoise waters that run in the rivers and pool in the lakes are created by the fine granules grounded by the slow moving glaciers.

A new study by David Chadwick, long time Glacier Park devotee, on the wolverine has just been published, The Wolverine Way.

His study revealed that wolverines are not lone rangers, but hang out with spouses, kids, and friends. David's description of the 'wolverine way' may describe some people we all know or want to know:

"I've learned the wolverine strategy: Go hard, and high and steep and never back down, not even from the biggest grizzly, and least of all from a mountain. Climb everything: trees, cliffs, avalanche chutes, summits. Eat everybody: alive, dead, long-dead, moose, mouse, fox, frog. Warm or frozen."

Charlie Russell, the famous artist of the West, lived along the shores of Lake McDonald in the early 1900's. He loved to tell stories so if anyone walked by on their way to a favorite fishing spot, he would catch their ear, and swap some whoppers. It wasn't unusual for Russell to have a lump of clay in his pocket. During the conversation his hands would be maneuvering whatever was in his pocket and as they said their goodbyes, he would hand the visitor a perfectly shaped horse, moose, or bear!

Ashley, a park geologist that shared her knowledge during the week shared this story: As a park ranger, some days she was to just drive the Sun Road and pull into turn outs to talk to the visitors and answer any questions. She arrived at the first vista point and saw many dozens of Harley's - big, loud, chopped cycles - ridden by big, loud, tattooed, hairy, muscular critters. I must mention that Ashley is petite, not over 100 pounds, real cute. She cautiously put her hand on the radio set on her hip and took a deep breath walking toward the riders as they dismounted their bikes and walked to the edge of the overlook. She stood by to take any questions - not wanting to interrupt their time observing nature. Suddenly, the biggest, hairiest, wildest one turns and runs toward Ashley, grabs her with both arms, lifts her into the air - and as she is trying to catch her breath, he gushes with tears in his eyes, "This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen." She learned never to judge a rider by his tattoo again.

Forever wild.

Whitefish, Montana

What exploration would not include a day to shop, eat locally (which means another huckleberry ice cream cone), and take in the local charms.

Whitefish is a look back at what Jackson may have been fifty years ago. Art, expensive boutique shops, brew pubs and souvenir stops line the two streets that make downtown. The large building above is the train depot and across the street is the public library and a local repertory theatre. Again, this is a place I could get used to - lots of homes and condos for sale - if anyone is interested.

The best part of Whitefish, though, were the murals of original poetry of students who wrote about real people in Whitefish, ordinary folks who are really extraordinary. The poems were illustrated and painted on the sides of the buildings for all to read and admire.

I spent the afternoon licking my ice cream and reading the poems. I thought how wonderful for the subjects of these words of love to drive into town and see someone reading "their" poem or parking their car and reading their poem for the hundredth time.

Backbone of the World

The Blackfeet called this jewel in the crown, the "backbone of the world." Millions and millions of years ago glaciers cut through the sediment to create many gems found here. None of the speakers or park people are concerned about the loss of glaciers in the park. The process is natural and they remind us that the park was named Glacier to reflect how the area was formed, not the dwindling glaciers that crawl and melt day by day about as fast as your fingernails grow.

That is not to say that the park scientists, rangers, and naturalists are not studying and observing global warming and its effect on our environment, but there is no alarmist attitude toward reality of shrinking glaciers.

Today we visited the eastern most rain forest. It was lovely to walk through cedar groves, mixed with firs and lodgepoles and aspen, with a carpet of ferns at our feet, and moss covered rock overhangs. There are five overlapping ecosystems in the park that make exploring the flora and fauna interesting and surprising as our elevations and east/west directions change.

As we walked through new growth after a fire that occurred a decade ago amid the wild flowers and young trees, which were abundant, it was easy to see and believe that soon we would not be able to see the trees, but for the forest.

Also, we made a stop at the McDonald Lodge, the first lodge built in the park, built on the shores of McDonald Lake. The crowds were taking in the views of the lake from the porch and the original western interior complete with Chinese lanterns (to promote global trade way back when).

John Muir had it right the first time he visited Glacier Park, "Give a month at least to this precious reserve." I initially thought that his feelings and thoughts about the place reflected on his mode of travel, his feet, and he would need a month to tour the area. But, as always, once we begin exploring the nooks and crannies, the paths and backroads, the rivers, waterfalls, and lakes of Glacier, time is as precious as the sights, smells, and textures of this land.

Going-to-the-Sun Road

The only road that runs through Glacier National Park is Going-to-the-Sun Road. There are only 150 miles of roads in the Park and over 50 miles of those are the Sun Road
.

The Elderhostel group rode in vans, but the traditional, postcard way would be to ride in the Red Cars driven by the Jammers, the drivers, who in the old days had to jam their feet into the floorboard to switch gears up the very steep roadway. Today you can catch a Red Car at the McDonald Hotel for some big bucks. Several red touring cars of tourists passed us on our journey and I am sure they enjoyed their 360 degree view in the convertible classics.

The road was named after the mountain Going to the Sun, which was named by the Blackfeet as the mountain that they traveled to attain their vision quest or their going to the sun.

The road is skinny and steep. No rvs allowed, thank goodness. No bicycle riders allowed from 11:am to 4:00 pm. We encountered a few before the 'get out' times, and there ain't enough room for the both of us. Another challenge was the necessary road construction, so one-way traffic delayed visitors - but the construction workers must have felt like birds on a perch as they maneuvered their dirt movers and loaders, very slowly and carefully as non-stop traffic got in their way.

On this trip we will not drive the entire Going to the Sun Road, but half way is good. The scenery is spectacular - you have to experience it yourself. The circular valleys created by the glacial crawls seem to invite you to become part of the evolving scenery. Since so much of the park is back country and assessable only by foot or horseback not many take advantage of the wonders. We are just getting a peek.

The group stopped at the Visitor's Center, the only one on the route, and every one in the State of Montana had also decided to visit Glacier Park, drive the Road, and stop at the center. One of the biggest challenges of the trek is to find a parking place at the center! I'm not kidding, people circle in their cars and motorcycles like vultures coming in for the kill. Drivers follow walkers in the parking lot begging them to get in their cars and leave.

The Elderhostel walkers climbed through a wildflower meadow on boardwalk amid a circle of glacial mountains shrouded in fog. As we learned about the natural wonders of where we were standing and witnessed the undressing of the peaks as the fog drifted away, a fluffy white mountain goat and two kids joined us, from a distance. Just like in the Alps.

We were fortunate to be joined by Doug Follett, 84, became a forest ranger in Glacier Park when he was 20 - and he isn't ready to call it quits. Our guide, Dave, is a friend and talked Doug into sharing a story, Doug shared two or three and no one wanted him to stop.

But, one story he relayed shows how we all are. He was talking to a group of visitors in the camp amphitheater and a mama moose and her calf sauntered into the area chewing on the grass between Doug and his audience. The people listened, the moose listened for awhile and then walked away, and so did the audience, they followed the moose family as Doug continued with his talk to empty benches. He learned who had top billing.

Check out more information on Ranger Doug Follett: type in npca.org voice of glacier

and you will read a wonderful interview. There are also videos of him sharing his poetry and incredible stories of living and working in the park. No wonder everyone wants to be park ranger, I know I did, but girls were not allowed in the ranks in those days.

Search on the internet 100 days in Glacier National Park and you will see up close and personal the sights of this park.