The higher I climbed the wetter it got and less I could see. By
the time I got to Logan pass I was literally in the clouds and the
visibility could be measured in feet. The two red dots of light
from the car or truck in front of me were all I could see besides
the road directly under me and a wall of snow on one side or the
other. The side that I couldn't see snow on, I knew was a drop of
indeterminate height off the side of the mountain. I stopped at
the visitor center and found a couple of books I was interested
in buying but I wasn't willing to unpack the bike enough to properly
stow them so I ended up leaving with nothing. I took a short hike
in the snow for kicks but turned around pretty quickly since the
visibility was so poor. Since I wasn't going to buy anything and
I couldn't see anything it was time to move on.
After Logan Pass you start heading down and as I did so the weather
progressively improved. It is a rare sight to look down and see
the road you will soon be riding on running along side a stream
several thousand feet below you. It is like a super switchback.
Considering that I was heading west in the afternoon and that
the rain was becoming less and less the moniker became truly fitting
as I was going to the sun. The day before I was as gloomy as the
weather but this ride lifted my spirit as high as the mountain
peaks that surrounded me. I embraced the experience and cherished
just how lucky I was to be in a position where a trip, such as
the one I was on, was possible.
Fortunately, I was totally cognisant of my happiness about my
good fortune and savored the feeling. This feeds upon itself and
brought about the realization that I had really no desire to be
any place other than the place I was at.. Living in the moment
is a difficult thing to do and one of the reasons I travel by
motorcycle is the "ride" helps me (or forces me) to appreciate
the here and now.
Once I got down to the river the weather had pretty much cleared
and while I could still see the clouds and rain surrounding the
mountain peaks, it only distantly affected me. The stream itself
was clear and cold and after gathering the water from all the
small waterfalls and the energy of a several thousand foot height
potential, the thing was moving! My white water
experience is limited to rafts and "duckies" so my assessment
of water conditions has no real merit but I decided then and there
that I didn't want to be in the water.
was more like it. I found a campsite at Fish Creek and set my
tent up in the trees where I couldn't see many other people. There
was a stream close enough that I would fall asleep to running
water and the signs warning of bears all over the place gave the
place a "wild" feeling that was missing from most of my other
campsites. This is the first place I ran into mosquitos and they
were really big but also really slow so smacking them was easy
Of course the fact that this was the view that I had certainly
didn't hurt any. This is Lake McDonald and that clear, blue water
had me turning over ideas in my head about how I could carry my
sea kayak on the motorcycle.
All in all it turned out to be a great day. I only covered about
70 miles but it somehow took all day. I don't know where all the
time went but I didn't feel as though a single minute was wasted.
I decided to stay at this site one more night and will spend tomorrow
morning hiking and tomorrow afternoon hopefully exploring a dirt
road that heads north into the park.