Saturday, 1st October, 2005
Its still raining! I don’t Belieeeeeeve it.
I thought Scotland could teach the world a thing or two about rain but unfortunately, it’s a bit like the football (and the rugby … errr, and the golf …) we have been outclassed. It has now rained solidly with a single let up for the past 36 hours. The pass is still closed and the mountains are still shrouded in mist … in fact they’re now talking that that’s it for the pass for the winter! In which case we’ll have been in the last couple of cars through in 2005.
This morning we have a telephone rendezvous with the boys … so its off to the wild decadence of the McDonald Lake Hotel once again, which is the only place here that we feel has a chance of making and accepting international calls … and it didn’t let us down.
As for the breakfast report … well it was the buffet this morning; Berry yoghurt, French toast, maple syrup and bacon all taken at a corner table, from which we could watch the antics of our compadres without neck-strain. What more could one ask for?
The couple on the table next door to us, very kindly and quiet pair who according to their exchanges with the waiter, visited the hotel each year and had done for many years, were driven from their table by the arrival of another couple nearby. They excused themselves almost immediately from the capacious dining room, as soon as Mrs Newcomer opened her mouth. She was then left her in search of another audience and fortunately, Anne was in a hurry to get to the phone, or she may not have been able to heed the coded warning signals coming from my side of the table….
Well all seems well at home and we were able to chat with Ben, Nick and Bam at great length and all from the comfort of a 1920’s hotel phone booth tucked away beneath the Lodgepole staircase of the hotel.
Afterwards, we struck out towards Many Glacier. As Logan Pass is out of the frame and the border at the end of the ‘Going-to-the-Sun’ road closed last night at 6pm, we are stuck with the longer route back to Waterton, adding about an extra hour or so.
It took us the day … and it took us until we crossed into Canada to escape the rain. Out on the prairies, it was possible to look back to the west at the tremendous hump of cloud that covers the mountains of Glacier. Just once in a while, they glimpsed through resplendent in a new dusting of snow at their higher altitudes.
We crossed into and out of the Blackfeet Nation territory, discernible due to the lifesized scrap metal sculptures of mounted Indians positioned in laybys at the entrance and exit … both of which had been shot about the head with high velocity rifle bullets. It was also discernible due to the quantity of litter along the roadsides and the frequent incidence where shooting parties (?) (but perhaps only picnic parties) had gone out of town, taken themselves slightly off road, downed a few beers and then scattered the bottles around behind them.…
It was a fairly uninspiring day from a weather point of view and we saw very little of the grandeur of the mountains around … but I took one or two retakes as best I could.
On the way back from Swiftcurrent there was obviously a bit of commotion on the road with three vehicles stopped and a few people milling about on the roadside and emerging from the scrub.
It transpired there was a bull moose working his way along the other side of the roadside belt of scrub and various of the people there were taking in turns to dodge down, intercept and dash back to roadside with their photographic spoils … quite an intrusive process and no wonder that the moose was somewhat intent in its attempts to cross the road and get into deeper scrub. I got a couple of shots and then we left them to their pursuit, leap-frogging each other up the road in their cars and charging up and down the bank to get views.
As we neared Waterton, it began to lift a little bit and we re-entered the park.
In the half mile or so following the toll booth, there was a little bit of debate as to what we were actually getting for our $12 per day … and then we rounded a corner and a few hundred yards ahead, was the unmistakeable shambling figure of a black bear stomping up the road. We pulled closer and he completed his manoeuvre onto the verge and down into a the scrub about 20 or so feet to the side. There, in a very deliberate and thoughtful way, he settled himself down among some rose hips and systematically began to eat them all.
At the start of the sighting, he sat amongst a profusion of little red dots of hips … and within five minutes the whole lot had been scoffed! Bushes deftly pulled towards him with a huge paw and the seed heads pulled off in his mouth.
On he plodded, hiding himself behind the odd bush for a few minutes and we settled down to watch him ... really very close ... had he been indiscreet enough to fart we`d have clocked it .. but as it was we could only hear the chomping of his jaws. We watched with the engine turned off and he slowly walked towards us, up the bank. A magic moment in wildlife observation up until the point when Anne, who was on the side nearest the bear, pointed out that she couldn’t get her window closed with the engine off ... this caused a little bit of excitement. With windows firmly shut, he passed within a couple of feet of the front of the car; a fantastic beast with a luxuriant, deep pelt.
We pulled off the road, just outside of town to have a look at the elk which had drawn out of the forest and were scattered around in several large ‘harems’ each with attendant bulls, constantly herding and ‘belling’ heading-off itinerants and challenging other males nearby. The light was poor but they were all going about their business well within camera range of the car.
Checked in to the International Hostel once again and then battled our way to the open fire of the Bayshore Inn for a beer and a steak sandwich.