Whitefish to Stanton Creek, MT
It rained most of this morning, so we pushed back our departure time to 11:00. By this time, the rain had cleared somewhat, and for the first hour and a half we had no problems. Kevin and I stopped at Packer’s Roost--an interesting looking bar/café we’d seen the day before--for lunch. Kevin told me that he’d talked to Diane and he thought she understood. The rest of the group continued on. They later reported that they made it just to West Glacier when it began to rain again. They hung out in a convenience store waiting for us and for the rain to move on, but left about 15 minutes before we got there. So, we continued on in light but steady rain.
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| Kevin consulting the AC map with Bill Upton to make sure that we were all on the same page; note Tim's plastic bag shoe covers |
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| Packer's Roost with Kevin's and my bikes and BOBs outside; we two stopped here for lunch; now this--much more so than the quiche restaurant way back on Day 1--was more Kevin's style |
It was about 50°F, but with the rain it was pretty chilly and uncomfortable. Diane, had told me that morning that someone was arranging to comp us rooms at the Izaak Walton Lodge (which Kevin’s Uncle John had told us not to miss), but when we got to Stanton Lake, about 10 miles from Essex and the IW Lodge, we found the rest of the group debating whether or not to rent the little cabins. This was Rick’s idea to divert the group from once again accepting Diane’s support network . . . and with it her control of where we stopped. Rick had to be always in control, whether it came to where we stayed or just twitching the itinerary or the rest day a bit to make it his own.
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| Bill in head-down, mountain climbing mode; the man was 100% grit |
When K and I arrived, the four put the decision on us . . . and Kevin put it on me. I checked out the cabins and made the decision to stay. (Don’t know why men so hate to make decisions. Think it is because if they don’t make a decision, they cannot be “wrong.”) All of us were cold, wet, tired, and ready to end the day. I could see that Diane was disappointed because her support was down the road a piece, and free at that, but she said nothing and went along.
The cabins were small but had baseboard heat and small chemical toilets in them—presumably so that one would not need to go outside the cabin at night and encounter a bear on the way to the toilets which were at some distance in the shower house. Diane and I shared a queen-sized bed that took up most of the room.
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| Diane exiting our cabin; that's the restaurant in the background |
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| Bill's bike is down deciding to take a rest -- but not Bill |
The owner had a passel of kids, and the older ones helped us to our cabins. Diane played her “weak, fragile woman” card to entice one of them to carry her BOB bag to the cabin. When he got to the room, I asked the boy what the buzzing noise in the room was, thinking it was the baseboard heater. Turned out to be the dying flashing light on my helmet! I removed the light and stashed it.
After showers, we all trouped through the wet over to the Stanton Creek Café and had dinner. The one adult male who had earlier checked us in from behind the bar, took our orders and supervised the cooking of the food, all the while hobbling around on a crutch. He called his father to learn how to take a credit card. Soon father/grandpa arrived, and after mentioning that he had 27 grandkids and 8 or so great grandkids, he took over the supervision of some of the grandkids—probably aged 14 to 16—while they cooked the food. Then these bigger kids cooked up a meal for the smaller ones, too.
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| Bill and Diane happy to be out of the wet and cold |
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| The bigger kids cooked up the meal for the smaller kids; this little one is showing me her "fat" French fry |
The others helped me scrounge up some newspaper to stuff into my wet shoes. This method works to dry one’s shoes overnight and I shared it with all. I took out my custom insoles and dried them on a chair by the heater. Tim dried his shoes this way also.
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| Bear grass |
Tomorrow, Marias Pass and the Continental Divide. See you there.
