Swan Valley by Accident

The Winter camping season extends well into Spring in Montana, so we thought we'd try some camping up on Flathead Lake, the largest natural body of fresh water in the US West of the Mississippi.

The Mission Mountains pop into view along US 93 Northbound. The snow was pretty fresh.

Melissa liked the way the snow filled the crack in this mountain near St. Ignatius. Look at that giant drift of snow coming rightward off the peak.

When we got to our intended campground, we were ready for another weekend of free camping. What I'd failed to take into account is that the campgrounds around the lake are state parks, not the national forest campgrounds we'd been visiting gratis. The state charges year-round, and we didn't relish the thought of shelling out $30 for a spot, so we wandered Northward into the forestland that forms the Southwestern buttress of Glacier National Park.
A trip up a steadily-worsening mountain road near Creston convinced us to turn back and find a more suitable place to stay. We decided to head down Hwy 83 for the fun of it, and it was on the way home if we decided to just give up. Outside of Swan Lake our map showed a campground so we headed up the forest road.

These mule deer were guarding the entrance to the road. There were at least seven of them. Melissa says she likes mule deer more than whitetail deer, but to me they're all the same.

The road eventually petered out into a trail, and no campgroud was in sight. The natural conclusion was that the map was in error, so we headed back down the mountain.

This little stream came down along the forest road.

We got back on the highway and down the road just a bit was the campground. Being a Forest Service area, it was free. We were two of four people camping in the entire place. We have been assured that once Summer arrives this will not be the case.

Melissa really liked this ground squirrel.

We selected our site for two reasons: it was far from the other campers, and there was a huge pile of wood just laying there. We got a nice fire going, and this time didn't even use accelerants. Melissa built the little starter teepee and I splintered up the free wood. I had to resist the urge to chastise Melissa for putting ketchup on a hot dog, but since it's a fake hot dog anyway I decided I could stand it.

Come Summertime we'll be able to pop the top and I won't have to hunch over like this.

We heard some noise in the night and Melissa convinced herself that it was a bear, probably a Grizzly, coming to eat us and the rest of her fake hot dogs. The next morning we saw a big fresh pile of deer pellets in the road and an answer to what had made all the noise.

Approaching Ludwig, I noticed something dangling below him. I figured it was some brush or a thick twig so I went underneath to remove it. I saw that actually part of the heating system had rattled loose and had been riding on the axle, rubbing a shiny spot onto it and tearing the CV joint boot.

I wired it free of the axle and made a mental note to order a new boot when we got home (Bus Depot again--I love those guys.) This shot was taken by Melissa without even looking. Pretty good. Notice the Koni shock absorber; we're really trying to get our money's worth out of them.

After breaking camp we headed on down 83 toward Missoula. The highway lies smack in between the Mission Mountains to the West and the Swan Range of the Rockies to the East. Melissa said it reminded her of Alaska (and the Yukon and British Columbia, I assume) more than anything she'd seen since. She says that the Alcan Highway is much like the picture below, except the trees are bigger and closer to the road. And the road doesn't have lines and is generally suckier.

Montana Hwy 83 Southbound

The trees opened up in spots and gave us nice panoramic views of the mountains. We pulled over at one point to get some pictures and I saw immediately that it was kismet:

One of Melissa's favorite things

Melissa shot this video so the viewer could take in the scene. Listen to how nicely Ludwig is running in the background. Sounds like a sewing machine.

I like this picture because it looks like Melissa is hovering above Ludwig's bumper. Note the deer carcass in the lower right corner.

We kept on down the road to Holland Lake, which I'd wanted to visit earlier in the year but the campground was under a couple feet of snow. I knew that there was a hike that led to a waterfall, so we thought we'd stop for lunch and a walk through the woods.

The lake is truly lovely. It's that weird blue-green color that's associated with lakes that suspend a lot of rock flour. I want to canoe to that island in the middle ground sometime.

As we walked along, we became cognizant of a steady dull roar. Some other hikers headed the opposite way confirmed that it was the falls. Around a bend we could see the falls in the distance.

Holland Falls, the white smear at center

We got to the falls and were duly impressed. We each went up to it, seperately, so we could take pictures of one another. I was surprised at how windy it was right next to the falls. It was also really cold and loud.

Melissa took this video of me by the falls, and then panned around to the lake and Mission Mountains way across the valley. This is all about two hours from our doorstep.

We hiked back down to Ludwig and cooked up some sandwiches. The drive home was pleasant and Ludwig even got to pass someone. We reflected upon the trip and concluded that it was one of our favorites so far. Then we realized it had all been an accident; had the plan gone off as we'd intended, we'd've been on the other side of the Missions. In this spirit, I dedicate this trip to the memory of Kurt Vonnegut, who once wrote that "peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God."