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Published: September 24th 2007
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Onaxthiel writes- Our night at Gunsight was very comfortable. The predicted rain never developed and once out of the wind, the bivys were certainly warm enough to keep us content for the night. The sunrises we have seen in mountain valleys are a bit different from those at lower points. The tops of the mountains take on a red tint when the sky is still rather dark, and there is no change in the clouds to the east and then suddenly BOB breaks the horizon and it's a new day. The sun just doesn't herald its coming for you like it does down below. The deer from the night before was still hanging around, so we played more range-deer games with him. After driving him out on foot twice, we decided to have Obfuscator (wearing the better camo for the environment) wait silently and still at his favorite salt spot with a couple of small rocks. Yes, throwing rocks was advised to us by the park rangers, and not something we would try on our own. Hazing wildlife without permission from local authorities is not funny. Alright, perhaps a little funny. Obfuscator suddenly rising up screaming and throwing rocks like Martin
Sheen from the river in Apocalypse Now spooked the buck enough to get him further out than any of our previous attempts, but we hypothesized that he would still be returning as soon as we were a half mile out of camp. The route back down was an easier hike than the route up, though neither one was particularly harsh. We spotted another set of weird birds on the way out. They hopped, rather than flew, as we approached. Nothing in Glacier seems to have a natural fear of humans. Protected by federal law from learning and evolving, (probably) coaxed by tourists and nourished on out waste, This impressive tract of land has bred some of the dumbest animals in creation. You can see why early Asians that crossed the land bridge to North America were able to walk up to and club the local wildlife. “Here giant elk critter, I have some salt in my hand. It's yours if you just lick it off my fingers. Pay no attention to my friend over there with a spear. He's just grumpy today.”
Stab stab stab. “Dude. Animals on this continent are so stupid.”
In our last mile or so
out we began to encounter people. It was a Saturday morning and the first mile is the one with st. Marys falls, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. But after two days of relative isolation, seeing lots of tourists was a bit of a shock. These all seemed to be American tourists, though. Have we mentioned that Yellowstone was packed with German, Japanese, and Slavic tourists by the way? Apparently, once the American tourist season ends on labor day weekend, the tour companies run huge specials internationally. Glacier must not have the reputation in foreign lands. Our total time out was about three hours for a bit over seven miles, with some hydration breaks to prevent a repeat of the heat exhaustion from last weekend. I am glad we did all the detours day one when we were fresh.
Once out the gate we made one more run to Browning to take advantage of their cheap gas before beginning the long western drive on highway 2. While on the hikes, we had occasionally noted civilian helicopters above us. We had been wondering who they belonged to and this question was answered just before leaving the western area
of glacier. Two helicopter tour companies stood side by side, ready to part rich tourists from their money for a few hours on aerodynamic principles that I am perfectly happy to not ever have to trust my life to again. A bit after lunch time we were faced with a new quandary: stop in the town of Kalispell to try to upload photos at an internet cafe or the like, or push on to the town of Libby, which by map judgment should be roughly the same size. We chose to drive on, as this would put us in Libby around dinner. It was something of a mistake. Kalispell is a rather large town, and Libby, though similar in size on a map, simply isn't as urban an area. It does have some interesting outdoor art, however. We had a pretty good meal at a local cafe, and moved on. Just outside of town was a pull off that came up on us unexpectedly. It was a small park next to the local falls/ rapids. We went down there for what Obfuscator termed “a detour taking no more than 20 minutes.” 45 minutes later we were satisfied that we had
seen the falls, explored the suspension bridge and looked into the beautiful, deep and swiftly moving freshwater enough and took an unauthorized detour back to the car by the most direct route, instead of the recommended one. (Obfuscator notes: Hey, we could have viewed the just the falls and been back to the car in 20 minutes.) It worked well. As we continued we could see storm clouds forming in the mountains. Deciding we really wanted to upload the glacier updates, dodge the storms, and take showers, we stopped in the small town of Troy for the night and knocked out our regular refit chores.
Lessons learned: The day walking in when everyone is fresh is the one to use for detours. By the trip out we were sore enough that the two detours at .6 miles each way would have been a bit off putting. Conversely, perhaps we were slightly more sore because of the two .6 mile each way detours. Hard to say. I am glad we did those runs fresh, though.
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Tot: 0.224s; Tpl: 0.018s; cc: 20; qc: 106; dbt: 0.0951s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
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