Last post of this trip

On a day forecasted to be rainy throughout the vicinity of Glacier National Park, we were reluctant to endure another soggy, cold day enveloped in fog. Consequently, we opted to remain closer to our cabin. Prior to departing, Londell dedicated some time to composing the blog post. He appears quite comfortable! Shelley subsequently contributed her creative commentary before we proceeded to the Cabin Office (the sole establishment with Wi-Fi access) to finalize this post.

Following the completion of the blog post, we resolved that it was opportune for Shelley to fulfill her aspiration of cycling through Big Sky Country. Consequently, we ventured to Wheaton’s in Kalispell, Montana, to procure bicycles. Margaret, the proprietor of Wheaton’s, is the sister of one of Shelley’s clientele. Upon learning of our excursion to the Kalispell region, her customer promptly made a call to reserve bicycles at Margaret’s establishment. However, we initially paused for breakfast in Bigfork. We had discovered a suitable establishment using GPS (SportThyme), but upon passing Pocket Stone Café, we deemed it an even better choice. It was evident that his establishment would be exceptional, as at 10:00 AM on a weekday, every table was occupied, and a waiting list was in place. Fortunately, the wait was less than five minutes, as Shelley was experiencing fatigue. The menu appeared delectable.

Shelley selected a hearty rendition of oatmeal known as Montana Mash. Thickly rolled oats were complemented by cranberries, raisins, chopped pecans, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a generous amount of vanilla. While Shelley typically dislikes vanilla, the menu description likened the Mash to an oatmeal raisin cookie, prompting her to give it a try. It is served with brown sugar (optional) and half-and-half on the side. Naturally, Shelley consumed all of the Half and Half and discarded the brown sugar. Londell, on the other hand, relished the Western Scramble accompanied by a substantial biscuit. 

Upon our arrival at Wheaton’s Cycle in Kalispell, just before noon. The shop is owned by the sister of a client Shelley has back in Minnesota. We were promptly provided with Hybrid bikes equipped with shocks. Shelley and Margaret had an opportunity to engage in conversation, and we departed by 12:30 PM. The Great Northern Historic Trail of Northwest Montana is one of the Rails-to-Trails bike paths. This trail extended from Kalispell to Kila, Montana, spanning approximately 9 miles. 

The initial half-mile of the trail was situated within the town, and we nearly overlooked the trailhead. However, upon a second inspection, we discovered it near the railroad tracks, as expected.  Although it was evident that Londell was rather grumpy about the heavy headwind, he kindly kept his grumpiness at a moderate level as Shelley was enjoying the ride.  It was a mix of scenic portions with wonderful mountain vista views, and riding immediately next to the busy highway. Shelley ignored the highway and focused on the vast ranches of cattle and horses grazing throughout the valley as well as the surrounding mountains.  As we neared Kila, Shelley biked on toward the town while Londell slowly fought the wind.  Shelley, being smaller, had the advantage, as there was less impact from the wind.

On our return journey to Kalispell, we noticed the trail had likely been uphill, as our ride was swift and favorable. The vintage Texaco station sign and pumps evoked nostalgia, suggesting they were last used in the late 1960s. Despite a slight mist, we stayed dry. We’d become accustomed to damp conditions and made the most of them. The inconvenience was quickly resolved. We returned by 2:30 PM.

As the weather was unpredictable, we decided to embark on a trip to Polson, Montana, approximately 60 miles south of Flathead Lake. During our drive, we began to comprehend the sheer magnitude of Flathead Lake. It was almost reminiscent of the North Shore Drive along Lake Superior, but with larger, pine-covered mountains. The lake was massive and breathtaking, to put it mildly.

However, one downside to Montana highways is the overwhelming presence of billboards. Despite the stunning beauty of the landscape, these billboards are an eyesore. Nevertheless, Shelley spotted one that read “Three Dog Down, Down Outlet, Polson” and requested a quick stop. As we were casually shopping, this man walked in, singing in a magnificent baritone voice. He immediately inquired if I had been offered a bottle of water. Apparently, every customer who enters the store is supposed to receive a bottle of water. We later discovered that he was Bob, the store owner. After providing us with the water, he invited us and another couple in the store to attend a 4-minute performance in the world’s smallest theater. Given his engaging and eccentric nature, we couldn’t resist. We followed him to the back of the store, where a small room was set up as a theater, which he affectionately called The Butte Room.

His first story centered around the founder of the Columbia Gardens in Butte, Montana.

Then, he picked up his 100-year-old accordion and serenaded the audience with a beautiful song about a man and a woman who met and shared their lives until their deaths. The song began with a joyful depiction of their meeting and dancing, but it ended on a somber note, as the woman lay on her bed, unable to move and yearning for the dance they had once shared.

After the show, Shelley and Bob engaged in a sincere conversation about his early career in opera singing. There was no doubt that he could have been an opera star with his rich baritone voice, still robust at his age (approx 66). He was quite the performer.

After such wonderful hospitality, we began exploring the options for pillows and comforters. We were both super curious to learn about the difference in down density! When Shelley mentioned that she wanted a down pillow, Bob had her try out the pillow-testing bed. Shelley took turns testing 10 pillows with different loft levels, and through a fun process of elimination, she picked her favorite. Shelley had mentioned to Londell earlier that she thought his restless nights might be because of his pillows. So, naturally, Shelley insisted Londell try them all too, and he picked his favorite. How sweet is that—early birthday present!

Bob asked Londell if he liked Ginger Ale. Londell replied that he liked it but preferred Root Beer and shared his Root Beer rating blog. Delighted, Bob opened a bottle of Blenheim Ginger Ale. Londell made Shelley taste it first, and she exclaimed, “Whew, that cleared my sinuses.” Londell cautiously tried it and found it delightful despite the Ginger heat. It’s not a beverage he’d long to have, but he’d enjoy sipping it. We’ll see if this sparks Londell’s interest in rating Ginger Ales.

Bob gave Shelley a thermometer, which explains the origin of his store name. He said the Alaskan Indians used the number of dogs needed to keep a room warm to describe the cold. Three dogs are needed for the coldest Alaskan nights, so the name Three Dog Down was born.

After 90 minutes, we left with bamboo sheets, a summer comforter, a duvet cover pattern, two down pillows, and a story to share on our blog.

Upon departing the store, we embarked on a brief drive through Polson. The town presented a relatively straightforward landscape, with tourism serving as its primary economic driver. For our evening meal, we opted to have our picnic lunch at a park situated on the lake. As for dessert, our goal was to find a Huckleberry pie. Despite encountering several establishments that had closed for the season, we eventually discovered an establishment named Betty’s Diner. The diner was adorned with a striking pink exterior and was surrounded by hanging baskets of cascading flowers. We procured a Huckleberry shake and a slice of Blueberry Pie for our journey. (Although we were somewhat disappointed that they did not offer Huckleberry Pie, we accepted the situation.) 

As we retraced our steps toward our cabin, the heavens commenced a tumultuous dance of deepening gray hues. Simultaneously, the winds unleashed colossal white caps upon the lake’s surface. Subsequently, the skies parted, allowing torrential rain to pour down as we navigated our return journey.