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Now that is a long title that isn’t all that exciting, but I have no clue how to write it differently.  We crossed the country from Wisconsin to the Continental Divide without stopping along the way to visit anyone.  No one we know lives near the High Line, which lies close to the Canadian boundary.  But once we officially entered a part of the Pacific Northwest, the area of Northern Idaho and Eastern Washington sometimes called “The Inland Empire”, that all changed. 

We left early on the 5th, traveling west toward the looming eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains and the Continental Divide. We expected a steep grade and decided that it would be prudent to travel separately so the chances of the MoHo overheating would be less.  I took the photo above with my phone while following Mo in the Tracker.  Yeah, a bit fuzzy and the photos of the buffalo along the highway are even worse.  Still, I knew Mo would love the buffalo photos so I did my best.

No eye rolling allowed, please.  Those black things that look like rocks really are buffalo.  I think my friend Gaelyn takes pretty good photos while driving, but I am not a fan of that process, and obviously not very good at it.  Believe me, I never try it while driving when Mo is in the car.  Not a good thing to do, I know.  Still, I have the photos to prove that there really were buffalo there, and caught some great photos of the MoHo which I would never get any other way.

It was only 60 miles or so from our campground in Cut Bank to Marias Pass.  The actual distance of any part of that pass that could be considered even moderately steep was the last 12 miles from East Glacier to Marias Pass.  I knew that crossing the Rockies in this northern part of Montana was much less challenging that traveling some of the passes through the Rockies in Colorado.  The elevation difference between different passes is considerable. 

Elevations along Montana’s Divide range from a low of 5,280 feet at Marias Pass near Glacier Park to 11,141 feet at the most southerly situated Eighteenmile Peak.

An interesting tidbit from this website about the Continental Divide in Montana: Montana’s Divide respects no geologic structural dictate, but rather snakes at random through the high terrain of the state’s Northern Rocky Mountains. With a spectacular start in the remote western reaches of Glacier National Park, at the 49th parallel of latitude where Alberta, British Columbia and Montana join, the northern most point of Montana’s Divide begins its run to the south at an elevation of 7,460 feet. It leaves our great state about three miles into Yellowstone National Park at 8,320 feet where Montana, Idaho and Wyoming join in a nondescript, flat, difficult to find timbered landscape.

When we reached the top of the “grade”, we parked opposite the Continental Divide marker at Marias Pass and laughed with each other about how easy it had been.  We hooked up the Tracker and continued west on our route toward Northern Idaho.

Once again, when attempting to find fuel in West Glacier there was a bit of a kerfuffle and before we knew it we had passed all the recommended stations and were in downtown Libby.  Lucky for us, we had enough fuel to get farther west to Troy, Montana, where we made no attempt to find cheap gas and simply fueled the MoHo at a station that was on the right side of the highway and had large enough bays to make fueling easy.  Funny how after driving several thousand miles the priorities shift from saving money to saving sanity.

Troy was a sweet afternoon delight.  I was again in familiar territory, having driven the route from Spokane to Troy many times for many different reasons in the past.  It is an easy route, quiet, curvy in places, without any significant grades to deal with.  We were content to stop in Troy and enjoy the city park for an hour or so on such a beautiful afternoon. 

The park was lovely, located along the banks of the gorgeous Kootenai River.  The population of the town is somewhere around 800 people, and on that sunny afternoon, it was clear that the city park was the location of much of the social life of the small community. Funny thing about Troy, at 1880 feet, it is the lowest-elevation town in the state of Montana. Troy was registered as a town in 1892 and grew quickly after the Great Northern Railway built a freight station there, leading to a boom in workers, miners, and their families.

The railroad bisected the town and we waited a long time for some train workers in individual cars to pass at a crossing.  There were many people on both sides of the tracks watching the working cars, and it was evident that they appreciated their train workers.  No one seemed the least bit frustrated by the 20-minute wait except us.

Our destination for this first night in Idaho was Bonners Ferry and the big parking lot at the Kootenai River Inn Casino and Spa located on the banks of the beautiful Kootenai River.  We have camped there in the parking lot a few times in the past and when I called the casino to verify overnight parking they were as welcoming as always.  The only request was that we park on the far eastern side of the lot and make sure that we weren’t blocking any traffic.

The Kootenai River Inn and Casino is a great parking lot for a free night on the road

Chat and Georgette, long-time friends who once lived in California, now live in Bonners Ferry on a gorgeous piece of property overlooking the wild mountains east of town. We have camped with them in the past, but sadly this time Georgette was away at a cow dog training event and couldn’t be with us.  Her husband Chet was hiking on that day but agreed to meet us at the Casino for a nice visit and dinner at the restaurant.  I completely forgot to take dinner and friend photos but did manage to get a photo of dog lover Chet visiting Mattie in the MoHo after dinner.

Our night was pleasant and quiet except for the trains.  There was a crossing right near us. Every hour or so the loud clanging of the crossing would wake us and the train would roar past with its whistle wailing.  We laughed at this being the worst train night of our trip. If you decide to park at this casino it might be smart to have earplugs.

Our route the next morning was along a very familiar road.  Highway 95 bisects the state of Idaho from south to north and is a route I traveled sometimes daily in my years mapping soils in Northern Idaho.  The road hasn’t changed all that much and I recognized much along the way.  I found myself remembering soil pits that I dug in various locations in Boundary, Bonner, and Kootenai counties.  There is no better way to learn a landscape like the back of your hand than to travel all those back roads day after day.  Every time I return to this part of Idaho memories surface about my days in the field.  Most of them are good, but other memories come up of fearful lightning storms where I hid for an hour in my eight-foot-deep soil pit with trees falling all around me. Another time when a giant bald-faced hornet managed to get inside my long leather gloves and stung my arm repeatedly.  Such fun and part of the life of a field scientist.

Nothing but a windshield view of Pend Oreille Lake south of Sandpoint since we were moving along quickly

Our first destination for the day was in Dalton Gardens, Idaho, a small community adjacent to Coeur D Alene.  The sweet thing about Dalton is that most of the lots in the town are at least an acre or two.  My friend Laura lives on one of those acres and covers every inch of her lot with flowers.  There are some vegetables there as well, but the most exciting thing about Laura’s gardens are the dahlias.  I grew dahlias when I lived in Northern Idaho, sometimes digging as many as 700 tubers to winter over in my tiny rock-lined basement. 

Laura welcomed us with open arms, and her three young labs greeted Mattie enthusiastically as well.  It only took a minute or two for the dogs to begin running and playing together. In Laura’s complex backyard, Mattie had plenty of places to hide when the bigger dogs wore her out.  Those labs never seem to slow down.

Laura brought out pumpkin pie and coffee while Mo tried to keep the lab entertained with the slimy ball that you see if you look closely at the top of this photo.

We had a wonderful, sweet visit, sharing memories and flower walks.  Laura and I have almost 40 years of history together and even with miles between us, the friendship is enduring.

Laura is holding one of her grandbabies here, and notice the slimy ball in the lab’s mouth

We left Laura’s place in early afternoon, traveling west on I-90 toward Spokane.  It is always a shock to see the Rathdrum Prairie and the Spokane Valley after living in that area before the huge growth that exploded in the 80s.  What once was miles and miles of fields of bluegrass grown for seed has become miles and miles of housing developments, malls, and box stores.  It is a sad sight, but one repeated in so many places.

Mo’s youngest brother Don lives on the south side of Spokane, in a lovely neighborhood with a view toward the Spokane Valley to the east and Mt Spokane to the north.  Mo and I both looked forward to spending a night with Don and Wynn.  There was plenty of room to park in front of their home located toward the end of a cul de sac.  After settling in, we visited a bit with the two of them while waiting for the rest of the family to arrive.

Wynn is a great cook and has a beautiful kitchen, recently redone.  Here she is enjoying the huge bouquet of dahlias given to us by Laura

Mo’s niece Ginny, with her husband Gabe and their three beautiful children, arrived a bit later.  The kids are all well-behaved, however the youngest, Georgia Wynn is a very talkative ball of fire. We shared deck time and talking time before a lovely dinner that Wynn made for us in the dining room. 

After our lovely supper, with good manners all around, the kids decided to head for the basement game room, and Mo and I followed.  Before long the family was engaged in a rousing game of ping pong, with Mo, the one time PE teacher giving everyone a run for their money. 

Here are a few of the moments during our evening ping pong game that created so much happy laughter.

It was a wonderful evening, filled with family, good food, and most of all lots of laughter.  We went to bed tired and happy and ready for the next day that we would be sharing with another great family.  Our planned route of family visits would include the next destination, Lincoln, Washington where I would spend time with my daughter, grandson, and great-grandkids.

The Jackson Glacier is one of the few remaining glaciers in Glacier National Park that are visible from a highway

Visiting Glacier NP can be challenging at any time of year.  The park straddles the spine of the Rocky Mountains and accessibility to all there is to see can be difficult.  Most importantly, it is good to do some serious research before going to the park.  Road closures can hamper travel any time of year.  The magnificent “Going to the Sun Highway” that crosses the Rockies over Logan Pass requires a timed entry pass during the summer and is currently closed for construction on the west side.  Be sure to check the website for the latest news and reservation requirements if you plan to visit. Snow comes early and stays late and the date of that famous road opening changes every year. Always check road conditions before you even consider traveling in the park.

If you plan to hike in Glacier, a very popular reason for visiting, be well prepared, read everything you can read, and remember your bear whistle and pepper spray.  Many people see Glacier from a single perspective.  Traveling to the West Entrance, they will drive to glacial Lake Macdonald viewpoint and ooh and ahh before driving the challenging narrow road to the top of Logan Pass on the Going to the Sun Highway, returning the same day to the West Entrance and say they have been to Glacier.  I have been known to do that myself in days past.  I have also camped in Glacier and done a bit of hiking there, including a dip into Hidden Lake where I think I broke the ice on the surface of the water.

The thing to know is that there are two sides to Glacier, both figuratively and literally.  There is the wild side and the tourist side, and there is the east side and the west side, and there is no easy way to see all of it in one day.  Mo and I perused the maps that Carol gave us, trying to decide if we wanted to do the entire circle route to the west side and then over the top of the pass to the east side.  That would have been a lot of driving, and our plans were nixed almost immediately when we read that Logan Pass would be closed on the west side. We could travel to Logan Pass only from the east side of the park.  Lucky for us, Cutbank, where we were camping, is on the east side of Glacier NP. Logan Pass is a highlight of the park and I wanted to be sure that Mo could at least see that famous summit.

With Carol’s information, we also knew the most scenic route to take was from the East Glacier entrance to Two Medicine Lake and then north toward St Mary Lodge and the beginning of Logan Pass.  Her recommendations were invaluable and made our one-day visit to the park absolutely spectacular.

We began our day early, just before daylight, with a plan to travel first to Two Medicine Lake where I camped long ago in the 90s.  The road crossed the flat plains toward Browning with the high ridge of the Rockies looming as we approached.  We were blessed with a magnificently clear day, blue skies, and no clouds.  The slight bit of smoke from fires to the west of the mountains drifted in a bit but didn’t mar the views too much.

We were lucky that the rising sun was behind us. By the time we reached the East Glacier Entrance and began our ascent up scenic highway 49 (with vehicle length restrictions at 21 feet) the mountain peaks to our west were illuminated beautifully by the morning light.

We continued past Lower Two Medicine Lake toward Two Medicine Lake, surprised at how very low the water was in the lower lake. 

Before reaching the main lake, however, we came to the turnout for Two Medicine Falls.  At this early hour, we arrived at a parking lot with only one other car.  The owner of that car came walking toward us saying it was a magnificent hike.  He left and we had the entire Two Medicine Falls trail entirely to ourselves.  I should mention that since we were visiting a National Park where dogs are only allowed on pavement, we chose to leave Mattie at home in the MoHo for the day.  We are so lucky that she is such a great traveler in addition to being quiet and patient when we are gone until our return.

In retrospect, our quiet, lovely hike to Two Medicine Falls was a highlight of our visit to Glacier.  The trail wasn’t long and relatively flat.  We had the falls completely to ourselves.  I can imagine this might be a rarity any other time of year when the park is renowned for its crowds.

When the river is flowing at a higher level during the summer season the waterfall flows both over the rock at the top of the falls and through the hole in the rock where you see it flowing in this photo.  It was a lovely fall and a lovely moment for both of us.

I enjoyed a delightful moment when I suddenly saw beargrass (Xerophyllum tenax) along the trail.  I remember this plant so well from my days mapping in the high mountain ranges of Idaho, just across the divide from where we were hiking in Glacier.  I loved seeing so many familiar plants in the forest understory and recognizing all the tree and shrub species from so many years working in mountains like these.

It was a short hike, and even though we took our time, we returned to the car within an hour or so.  Continuing on toward Two Medicine Lake we reached a park entrance kiosk which, like all others we passed on this October day, was closed.  We placed our geezer park pass in the hanging folder on the car mirror and continued toward the lake.

There was a ranger at the campground, and we took our time cruising around the sites, deciding which ones we might like to try if we ever came back. Most of them are first come first served and I would be reluctant to drive all that way to fight crowds in the summer for a spot. 

This time of year the campground was still open, but the lake was closed to all personal watercraft, so kayaking wasn’t an option.  I would have loved to drop the kayaks on that lake, but with our long day ahead of us, even if it had been allowed we may have decided to skip unloading the boats.  I should mention that Montana was fairly rigorous in their boat check stations located at both ends of the state.  We had to stop three times for boat checks for invasive species along Highway 2.  One time an official carefully sponged out the water in our boats left from the hard rains we had passed through.  For some reason our kayak covers don’t keep out the rain very well.  I saw the guy carefully inspect our sponges for bad critters and then he gave us a couple of new bright sponges along with our certificate of inspection.

Traveling the return route along Two Medicine Lake road we continued north on scenic Highway 49 toward the Going to the Sun Highway. As you can see from the map above, the road is winding.  What you can’t see on the map is how narrow and steep it was as well.  We were both glad we were driving the Tracker and not the motorhome. 

The views of the mountains to our west and the changing fall colors were spectacular.

After an hour or so, including stops for photos, we reached the intersection of Highway 89 and the Going to the Sun road at the St Mary Visitor Center.  Sadly, the visitor center was closed for the season, as was the beautiful St Mary Hotel at this eastern edge of St Mary Lake.  I had hoped to see the visitor centers because the displays are always wonderful and add so much to a visit to our national parks.

Entering the park we stopped for the obligatory photo at the entrance and only had one other car waiting behind us to take the same photo. 

The Going to the Sun Highway is a truly spectacular drive, with rock walls created by the CCC many years ago and magnificent views.  Having driven the western portion of this road, I would say that the eastern part is an easier drive, not quite as narrow and not as scary as the west side.

We reached the Logan Pass parking lot before noon with only about 1/3 of the parking lot filled.  With the visitor center closed the main activity to enjoy at Logan Pass is the hike to Hidden Lake.  I knew that I would make it all the way to the lake but hoped that I could at least get to the upper part of the trail where I could at least see it from a distance.

Logan Pass is well known for sightings of Rocky Mountain sheep along the trail, but we weren’t lucky enough to see any on this day, although I did see them back in the late 90s when I hiked all the way to the lake.  The trail wasn’t terribly crowded, but all those steps are sometimes worse for me than simply hiking up a slope.

I went as far as I could before realizing that my shaky and very weak thigh muscles weren’t going to carry me to the top and I did want to have enough left to get back down.  I had to call it quits and Mo and I sat on the broad red metamorphic rocks enjoying the view before we headed back down the “trail”.  I put trail in quotation marks because much of it is paved and the rest is a complex maze of wooden stairs and boardwalks as far as the upper viewpoint.  Beyond the viewpoint, the trail descends rapidly to the lake through forests and looks more like a “real” trail.

Going to the Sun Mountain towers above the boardwalk trail to Hidden Lake

We lingered for quite some time simply enjoying the views before we meandered back down the trail to the car and backtracked down the highway toward St Mary Lake.  There were a few viewpoints along the road that allowed us to see St Mary Falls down in the canyon, but there was no way I was going to even think bout hiking down there!

One thing noticeably absent on our hike and our drive on the highway was a glacier.  Even high on the pass, we saw no evidence of glaciers within our views.  The statistics about the retreating and disappearing glaciers in Glacier National Park are sobering.  It may have to change its name to “once upon a time glacier national park”.  A sad story repeating throughout the world, especially in the west of the United States.

We had packed a picnic lunch.  I have a silly story I want to add, although it might not be as great a story without the facial expressions to go with it.  On our way up Highway 89, we came upon some road construction.  We were the first car in line and a tiny woman came up to the car and smiled at us.  She asked us about the kayaks and smiled some more.  Asked where we were going and smiled some more.  Then she asked if we had packed a picnic lunch.  We said, “Sure we did”.  She smiled some more and then asked, “Did you make it yourself?  What did you make?”  I told her, and then she just kept smiling at me with a very certain look, much like Mattie gets when she is watching us eat bacon.  I said “Would you like a cookie?”  She smiled extra big and said, “Yes!!”  So we gave her cookies.  I will never forget that sweet lady and her smile that said more than any words could have said.

We drove a bit down the road thinking we might come upon a picnic area with a roadside table for our lunch (minus a few cookies.).  Nothing appeared that fit the bill perfectly until we saw this broad rock on the side of a wide place in the road.  Lunch on that rock in view of all those magnificent mountains was delicious.

Continuing down the road, we finally did see a glacier.  Through the trees, with no place to pull over for a decent photo, we saw Jackson Glacier nestled into the mountain in the distance.  The sunlight was so bright and was facing directly at me but I did manage to prove that there is at least one visible glacier in Glacier National Park.

The highway levels out a bit as it approaches St Mary Lake, and there is a very large fire scar from recent forest fires that mar the views somewhat. Fires are the story of the west, and in National Parks they try to let them burn naturally, hoping to eliminate the truly epic fires that happen when the landscape isn’t allowed to burn as it would without suppression. 

We had one more destination on our list for the one-day quickie look at Glacier National Park.  The road to Many Glacier is to the north on Highway 89, with a 20-mile or so route to the famous hotel and lake.  There is a campground there in addition to a trailhead that leads to views of another famous glacier in the park, the Grinnell Glacier.

Once we were on the road west toward Many Glacier, we were stunned to discover a long stretch of rough gravel road.  We were both a bit tired by this time of the day and had no clue if 20 miles of traveling on a rough gravel road at 5mph would be worth it.  We went back and forth a bit with the decision and finally decided to keep going, just a little bit further.  It was only 2 miles of gravel before we hit the pavement once again and we were glad we hadn’t turned around.  There were no signs or warnings of any kind about this construction or any indication of how long it would last and for how far it continued.

When we arrived at the location of the historic Many Glacier Hotel it was late afternoon.  We weren’t surprised to discover that like almost everything else during this October day in Glacier NP, the hotel was closed up tight. 

We parked in the upper parking lot where there was a short walkway to this view of the hotel with the beautiful lake and mountain backdrop.  The hotel is in the familiar style of national park lodges that are familiar throughout the country, including our own Crater Lake Lodge, the lodge at Yellowstone National Park, and many others. 

There is a great history of this old lodge, and people return year after year to hike and enjoy the lake.  Once again, the lake was posted with a sign prohibiting private watercraft.  I am not sure if this is the case during the summer season as well and the only boats allowed on this lake would be park-owned excursion boats.

We drove the short distance from the lodge toward the Many Glacier campgrounds, but most of the cabins were closed as were all the stores and restaurants that are in that area.  The other thing that was noticeable was the lack of sunlight in the deep canyon protected on all sides by the towering peaks that surrounded the lake.  It was dark in there, especially late in the day and late in the season. 

Something Mo and I were especially intrigued by during the day was the dramatic view of Singleshot Mountain above St Mary Lake with its colorful sedimentary layers of the Appekuny Formation.

One obscure piece of information that was documented on a roadside sign was fantastic.  We stopped at a point overlooking Lake Mary where this sign explained with maps and diagrams that we were looking across the lake at Triple Divide Peak, one of the few places in the world where streams feeding three major watersheds originate.  From this point waters from Glacier National Park flow into three different places:  The Pacific Ocean, Hudson Bay, and the Gulf of Mexico.  I thought that was really cool. 

As the sign above said;  It’s All Downhill from Here.

The trip from Many Glacier back to Cutbank and our patient little dog took about an hour and a half.  We crossed the wide open landscapes of the Blackfeet Reservation to the town of Browning and returned home from Browning on Highway 2.  It was a good day, albeit a long one, but we were happy with our choices and decided that we did exceptionally well for a single one-day visit to an incredible national park.

Traveling west on the High Line Highway 2 in North Dakota

When I left you last, Mo and I were happily settled in for two peaceful days at Grahams Island State Park.  Currently, as I write this morning, the fall foggy mornings have settled into our beautiful Southern Oregon Rogue Valley.  Grants Pass has fog.  It isn’t the beach, but just 2 short hours from the ocean and a straight line to the ridge of mountains that likes to make sure that fog settles in. 

Sometimes it rolls around and we watch it rise from the valley, shrouding our outdoor views with soft gray.  Sometimes we watch it lift.  Unlike the cold not snowy winter days of January, it stays all day.  I am happy that at this time of year it usually lifts.  But what I find interesting is that when the rains stop and the weather apps say “sunny”, I can be fairly certain that our mornings, at least, will be foggy.

What better time to return with photos and pictures and notes in my journal and calendar to write about our travels as we continued westward.

We left Grahams Island State Park early on the morning of the first of October.  Mo was born in North Dakota and knows the state better than I do, but I was surprised by the views of rolling hills and meandering canyons as we drove west from Devils Lake.

Before long, however, the landscape flattened into what most people imagine for the state of North Dakota.  In addition to the flat landscape, we noticed more and more oil wells as we approached Williston on the far western border of the state. North Dakota experienced a major oil boom in the early 2000s.  Here is the introductory paragraph from Wiki. Skip over it if you like, but with the current state of oil production and oil and fuel prices in the US, it might be interesting:

“The North Dakota oil boom refers to the period of rapidly expanding oil extraction from the Bakken Formation in the state of North Dakota that lasted from the discovery of Parshall Oil Field in 2006, and peaked in 2012,^[1][2] but with substantially less growth noted since 2015 due to a global decline in oil prices.^[3] Despite the Great Recession, the oil boom resulted in enough jobs to provide North Dakota with the lowest unemployment rate in the United States from 2008 to at least 2014.^[4][5] The boom gave North Dakota, a state with a 2013 population of about 725,000, a billion-dollar budget surplus. North Dakota, which ranked 38th in per capita gross domestic product (GDP) in 2001, rose steadily with the Bakken boom, and had a per capita GDP 29% above the national average by 2013.^[6]

By October 2020, total oil rig count in the state had fallen dramatically. According to the North Dakota Department of Mineral Resources, the total oil rig count in the state had fallen from 58 active rigs on October 3, 2019, to only 11 active rigs on October 3, 2020, a reduction of over 80 percent.

The oil boom was largely due to the successful use of horizontal drilling and hydraulic fracturing, which made tight oil deposits recoverable.^[7] Contributing to the boom was a push to commence drilling and production on oil and gas leases before the expiration of their primary term, commonly three to five years, at which time the leases would terminate unless a producing well was drilled on the lease. But once production was established, the leases continued as long as oil and gas were continually produced.”

As we continued west and the day extended toward evening, we had to make a choice.  In our original planning I thought that we could camp at Fort Peck in the COE campgrounds near the dam.  I knew that the campgrounds closed on September 30, but thought we could still dry camp there.  However, when I contacted the campground by phone I was told that the gates were all closed and locked but that we could still find a spot along the road leading toward the lake for dispersed camping.

It was time to make a decision.  Our travel plans were slowing considerably by adding a few extra days out to arrive in Lincoln Washington on October 7.  Why rush to a closed campground?  We chose instead to boondock in the parking lot of the Flying J or the Love’s Truck stop in Williston on the border between North Dakota and Montana.

The Flying J was on the edge of town, along Highway 2, but when we stopped it was small and seemed a bit isolated and sketchy.  Continuing a few miles toward the town of Williston, we checked out the Love’s Truck Stop and decided it would be a fine place for an overnight.  We have camped a few times in the past at Loves or Flying J or other big truck stops without incident.  I never thought to take photos, for reasons that might become more clear with the continuation of this story.  It wasn’t a good night.

The truck stop was fairly new, built in the last couple of years, and there seemed to be plenty of room in the parking area surrounding the store.  We first settled into a spot along the right side of that island you see on the right because all of the overnight slots for truck parking were back-in sites.  We really didn’t want to have to unhook for just an overnight at a truck stop. 

We settled in and managed to open the slide into a safe area with big rigs passing us on the right.  Just a short time later, a guy with a fifth wheel pulled out of one of the back in slots, leaving his chair and ice chest in place, and shortly after that, a trucker pulled up next to the leftover stuff.  Suddenly he was screaming and yelling and throwing everything in that space into the air and out to the grass.  He was angry and loud and very scary.  Funny thing was that there were at least 20 open slots all around that one space.  No matter, the guy was really mad.  I looked at Mo and said, “Let’s just pull straight into that spot far from everything on the boundary of the parking lot and we can unhook in the morning”.  So we did.  It was an easy place to settle in, with grass on two sides of us and some garbage cans, and no one nearby.

Within minutes, however, some very strange-looking people pulled up in a couple of trucks, yelling and trying to find out if someone had left a small portable refrigerator by a telephone pole by us and these people were trying to figure out if it was useable. There was a plug-in on the phone pole and they were trying to use it. We locked our doors.  As we settled in for supper, more and more trucks pulled into the lot, however instead of semis, most of them were working trucks with a lot of big dirty equipment.  Maybe we were getting a bit paranoid by this time but the drivers all seemed angry and fast and scary as well. 

We pulled the shades tight against the outdoor lights surrounding us and went to bed with our Kindles to read.  The noise never stopped.  There were trucks and a lot of strange people running around and yelling at each other.  I was afraid to open anything to look out the windows to try to see what was going on.  Then as the night progressed, the noise got louder.  Coyotes started howling close by and there was a lot of dog barking.  Then there was a lot of crashing and banging.  I finally peeked out the window to see another angry guy throwing the full garbage cans into a giant trailer.  He was yelling at the dogs and the coyotes I guess, or maybe the garbage cans. Things settled down for a bit before he returned for more yelling and throwing the now-empty garbage cans back into their locations on both sides of our rig.

I think it was around 1am when things finally settled down and I slept, although fitfully and very apprehensive about what might happen next.  We left early the next morning.  I think we might avoid staying at another Love’s truck stop in the future, at least not in working man oil country.

Eastern Montana on Highway 2 was a bit less flat than Western North Dakota

When our plans shifted with an early stopover at Williston, we needed to re-evaluate our nightly destinations.  I already had a reservation for an RV park in Cutbank, Montana for Monday the 3rd, and we didn’t want to drive all the way to Cutbank in one day.  I searched around a bit and found a little treasure in the tiny town of Zurich, Montana.  (unlike Switzerland, it is pronounced like “rich”).

Once more, as we continued west, we were accompanied by the muted fall colors of a plains state with few trees

As I was searching for places to stay, I came upon this video for the tiny town of Zurich, about 30 miles east of Havre.  I then read a few reviews, and we decided that a night in this old park in an old town would be a delightful way to spend an extra night on the road.

We arrived early afternoon and the park was empty.  We had our choice of sites and discovered that the new posts were 30/50 amp, not only 50amp as was noted in one of the reviews.  We had a converter either way but it was nice not to have to use it.  The water spigot adjacent to our site was also operational, although all the other spigots were turned off for the winter.

Next to the park building was a mailbox with envelopes and registration forms.  Inside the box were two other filled-out forms with money inside the envelopes.  Only in rural Montana, I would guess.  No one seemed to bother the money-filled envelopes in the mailbox.  We added our envelope and our ten-dollar bill to the pile.

I took Mattie for a walk and we enjoyed the silence and the ambiance of the park.  It was easy to imagine summertime picnics and ballgames and happy laughing people having barbeques and family gatherings.  Mattie loved this park because she could run and play off-leash to her heart’s content. For us, it was a perfectly quiet and very dark overnight stay.

We discovered to our consternation the next morning that someone had parked a vehicle right in front of the MoHo.  We never heard anything, but there was a dry spot where the overnight rain hadn’t reached below the footprint of the vehicle.  Sadly, there was no additional envelope in the mailbox.  Before we left that morning an older gentleman drove in and picked up the envelopes and drove up to what appeared to be a caretaker’s home just across the creek.  He was taciturn but did say hello to us.

Loved seeing these two schools across the street from each other in Zurich

On our way out of town, we took advantage of the moody, foggy morning to stop and take some photos of the old bank and school.  Such a sweet little place and great fun for a change of pace for us.

As we crossed the rest of the state of Montana toward Cutbank, the perfectly flat landscape opened up with a slight hint of the great mountain range to our west.  It is always exciting to approach the Rocky Mountains after traveling across so many hundreds of miles of flat country.  Although I developed a new respect for the Appalachian Mountains after this trip.  Still, the magnificent front of the Rockies viewed from a long distance is thrilling.

We were a bit less thrilled when we drove into Cutbank and found our 4-star rated campground.  Glacier Mist RV Park is definitely a strange place.

Here is a review that encouraged me to take a chance with a park that was “a work in progress”  In fairness, there wasn’t much available on the east side of the Rockies this late in the season.  Most of the RV parks that cater to Glacier NP visitors were closed, and after many calls, I got a reservation at Glacier Mist.  When I called this morning to request an additional night Carol called me right back.  Carol is nothing if not friendly and very talkative.

Convenient to Glacier NP, 30/50 A, wide spaces for all size RV, we camped 3 days with 40. Ft Fifth wheel, plenty of room For truck also. Carol, the owner runs the place by herself and is very nice, campground is a work in progress so it looks a little rough but Don’t let that keep you from coming in Price was great….

As you can see from the photos, work in progress is definitely a good description.  Carol told us to take our choice of campsites, and we hooked up water and power and surprisingly, the site was completely level.  Our plan was to spend two days at this park to stall another night before traveling to Idaho and on to Washington, to catch up on laundry, and to catch up on rest. 

When I went to the office to ask Carol for the bathroom and laundry room code she asked if we planned to visit Glacier, and then proceeded to give me maps and charts and a ton of information about visiting the park this late in the season.

I did laundry in the spotless laundry room, took a great shower in the spotless bathroom, and meandered back to the rig to talk with Mo about the possibility of seeing Glacier NP.  What I didn’t know is that Mo had never been to Glacier.  I had to search my memory banks and photos to remember the several times that I visited the park during the time I lived in Northern Idaho.

The sunset from Glacier Mist RV Park toward the Rocky Mountains was stunning.

After supper, we reviewed the maps and decided that a day trip to Glacier would be a great idea.  What better way to kill an extra day on the road?!

Our day in Glacier was spectacular and has earned the right to a post of its own, coming next.

After the two-day rest in Milwaukee, we slowed down a bit, only covering 773 miles in 4 days.  Taking it slow, right?  What I haven’t mentioned is that we had been having trouble with a slow leak in the outside rear dually on the driver’s side of the MoHo. Every couple of days we would have to find an air station to pump her up from 24 pounds or so to the required 80 psi.  Not a fun thing when traveling.  We found air stations at some of the bigger fuel stops, often not working, or set to much less than 80 psi.  We also found that Costco tire shops usually have an air station nearby sometimes open, sometimes not.  A few days before we got to Milwaukee, somewhere in New York, we stopped too early and had to beg the guy behind the closed doors for information as to where we could find some air.  He was a sweetie and came out and turned on the machine for us.

Leaving Milwaukee in the early morning, we knew it was time to figure out how to get that tire fixed.  We do carry a spare, but getting it on the MoHo would be as much of a hassle as simply getting the tire fixed.  Our first thought was to get out of Milwaukee and maybe head toward Madison where the larger size of the city might give us more opportunities to find a shop that could take us in.  However, as we neared Madison, the traffic got a bit heavy and the navigation once again seemed a bit overwhelming so we said, heck with it, let’s go for a smaller town.

On to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, not far from our newly added overnight stop north of Eau Claire.  There were two tire shops listed and the first one I called said he was booked solid and I would have to wait a week or so.  UhOh.  Surprise, the second shop I called said, “Sure, bring it in, we can fix it right away”.  Lucky break.

The shop turned out to be a shop that specialized in truck tires and had no problem taking us in immediately.  Great guys at All Season Tire Pros, just in case you ever are in Eau Claire Wisconsin with a bad tire. Three guys hanging around in the office were all friendly and very helpful.  The boss said there was a great little diner just down the road or if we wanted a beer there was a burger place in the opposite direction.  We decided on the burger place.

What a treat!!  Valley Burger Co. is in a refurbished old bank building, complete with a giant safe in the center of the open space.  We treated ourselves to a superb burger and fries, washed down with our new favorite, PBR.  In less than the time it took to eat our shared burger, I had a message on the phone saying the MoHo was ready.  As is often the case with our dually tires, the valve stem was the problem, rubbing against the wheel edge where they develop a leak.  Still, no solution since the valve stem extenders that would solve this problem don’t fit our wheels. But the fix with a new stem worked for the rest of the trip and we had no more problems with low tire pressure.

Our campground was just a few miles north of Eau Claire, a small park behind a motel that had mixed reviews.  I trusted the good ones that said the owner was great and we called for a reservation.  Country Villa Motel and Country Camping sounded a little bit sketchy, but it was in the right place at the right price so we gave it a go.  The owner said that he was in town and when we arrived, just go to our spot and he would check in with us later.

The small park turned out to be a nice place for an overnight.  Most of the folks there were working people who were obviously long-term tenants.  We settled into the very level site and after a couple of hours the owner showed up to take our cash which allowed us to take advantage of a small discount.

There was plenty of room to take Mattie for walks and everything was quiet, even after the worker guys returned around dinnertime.  The nearby bathrooms were spotless, with a lot of hot water and plenty of pressure.  Amazing how happy we can be with a level site, a decent internet connection with the motel wifi, and lots of hot water.  No need for much supper since we had enjoyed such a tasty late lunch.  I finished up a few more of the cheese curds that Mo declined to taste.  They were even good cold.

The next morning, we had more leftovers for breakfast. We enjoyed the last of the Milwaukee Mad Rooster meal. Just look at all the yummy stuff that was in my fritatta.

The next morning we were on our way again, with a reservation that we had made last spring waiting for us at Lake Bemidji State Park in Minnesota, not far west of Duluth.  We had good memories of our time in Duluth back in 2010, once again choosing to enjoy our memories and bypassing the city entirely as we finally turned onto US Highway 2, what we later learned is called The High Line.

I had memories of Highway 2 being mostly 4 lanes, wide and smooth, and with very little traffic.  Yes, it was back in 2010, but could it have changed that much?  Right out of Duluth, the two-lane road was full of bumps and ruts and so rough that the entire rig was rattling, along with our nerves.  Was my memory failing me?  Was our choice to travel the High Line a huge mistake?  We were going to be on that highway for several hundred miles as we crossed the rest of Minnesota, North Dakota, and Montana into Northern Idaho!

Thank goodness, within ten miles or so, the road once again had four lanes, all smooth and sweet and easy traveling with only an occasional car sharing the highway with us.  It was a lovely drive. With our trip plans doing a bit of juggling, I had moved our Bemidji reservations up a day, moved our upcoming Grahams Island State Park in North Dakota up a day, and added a second night to that reservation.  The emailed receipts were a bit convoluted but in the end, it wasn’t a problem with the only loss for each of them being a reservation fee.

Bemidji State Park was lovely this time of year.  Not a bug anywhere, and the leaves were turning beautifully.  Our campsite was situated strangely, with our site butted up very close to our neighbor’s site, but they were quiet and mostly absent so it didn’t really matter.

After we settled in I found a trail leading to the lake and was glad we had decided we didn’t really have time to take down the kayaks.  It was much too windy for kayaking!  It seems that many of the bodies of water that we enjoyed during this latter part of our trip were in windy locations, even in the early mornings which are usually calm.

I told Mo about the trail leading toward the lake and the kayak launch site and decided I would rather take the car to the beach rather than walk it again.  The launch site was tucked away in a tiny inlet away from the lake breezes and there were several boats tied up at the docks.  Still, no need to kayak in that wind, but it was pretty down there. 

We especially enjoyed the historic Lake Bemidji State Park Shelter, built by the CCC so many years in the past.  Even though it was closed, I could see inside enough to get a photo of the massive stone fireplace that is such a hallmark of the CCC work crews during the Depression.

The weather was gorgeous, with blue skies in between the clouds and temperatures that were warm enough to be comfortable and yet cool enough for a campfire at our site.  It took a bit of getting used to the incredibly friendly people all around us.  Isn’t there some kind of saying about how “nice” Minnesota people are?  It was certainly true here at Bemidji State park. Our neighbor walked over to introduce herself laughing and talking about their campsite, their family, their time camping, and other simple conversation.  She wasn’t intrusive, just kind and fun.  More people strolled by with their dogs, especially around dog-walking time before supper.  We finally put Mattie in the MoHo because she wanted to jump off her camp chair and assert her authority over all the other dogs, big or little, that happened to pass by.  I felt a bit bad as we watched 4 different dogs all playing together off-leash a couple of campsites down but really didn’t feel like going through the introductions and the explaining that would entail until Mattie settled down.

The night was surprisingly dark and quiet except for a little bit of rain that pelted the roof of the MoHo, waking us for a moment and then quietly dying down.  We were glad we had packed up the chairs and put them away before bedtime in case this might happen.

When the next morning dawned, the skies were clear and we continued west to one of our favorite destinations.  When we traveled the High Line Highway 2 in 2010, we spent just one night at Devils Lake, at Grahams Island State Park.  Our destination on this day was only 265 miles of beautiful, traffic-free driving on Highway 2 as I remembered it.  Wide open and smooth pavement.  I kept imagining what our day would be like if we had succumbed to the slight push to continue west on I-94 toward I-90.  There is so much heavy truck traffic on those interstates that there are permanent ruts in the pavement that no amount of repaving can eliminate. Always a rough ride, and always a lot of truck traffic. 

Devils Lake in eastern North Dakota is the largest natural body of water in North Dakota, with more than 160,000 acres and hundreds of miles of shoreline.  It is especially known for its reputation as the perch capital of the world and ranked as one of the top five fishing lakes in the US.  In addition to the jumbo perch, it is home to white bass, northern pike, and whopper walleye.  Mo and I don’t fish, but our memory of the state park was of wide open, uncrowded space and we were not disappointed when we arrived.

The road that goes out to the state park is a narrow levee that crosses an arm of the lake, several miles from the town of Devils Lake to the east.  The name Grahams Island State Park was chosen for a reason, it is on an island.  There are more than 130 plant species that are native to the island.  With two days and nights to enjoy the park, we fiddled around a bit with our choice of a campsite and eventually settled for an ADA site close to our original choice which, surprisingly, wasn’t the least bit level.  At the new site, for just a little bit more money, we got a perfectly level, pull-through site, with full hookups, including sewer.  That was a surprise since we had only expected to have electricity when we booked the site for this late in the year.

The park was as beautiful and spacious as we remembered, in addition to being nearly empty.  The busiest part of the park was the boat launch and boat trailer parking where it was obvious that fishing was the main activity that people loved to pursue on this wide open lake.

We arrived just in time to check in at the visitor center and then go back to request a site change, but not in time to explore all the books about the area and the lake that were in the attached bookstore.  After settling we opened up our awning and enjoyed the bit of shade it provided on the warm afternoon.

What we didn’t enjoy, and I shouldn’t forget to mention were the small flies that immediately gathered around our motorhome, landing on the sides and waiting for even a tiny crack to open in the entry door as we went in and out.  It was a bit sad because the flies were so bad that we had to give up and go inside earlier than we had planned that evening.

Our two days at Devils Lake went by easily, with morning walks along the water with Mattie and afternoon relaxation with books in the shade, at least until the flies drove us back inside. 

I found a beautiful quiet empty part of the park for Mattie’s morning walk and shared it with Mo later in the day for another beautiful meander without another soul around.

On our second evening we had a lovely campfire that did a great job of keeping those pesky things mostly at bay until we went to bed.  Once under the covers, trying to read by the light of our kindles, the buzzing sound of tiny wings dive bombing us was considerably irritating.  I think the next morning we counted at least a dozen caught in the mighty swipe of our fly swatter.

Although the park was very different this time in muted fall colors, it still had that same wide open space feeling that made us enjoy it so much so many years ago.  I was glad I had chosen to make this a two night stay.

This part of our trip was a fast-moving blur of driving, driving, driving, sleeping a night, and driving some more.  In between all that driving, we have some great memories of wonderful visits with family and friends.  I know there is much to see in this part of the country, but we were pretty much done with seeing and doing and were focused on visiting the people that we rarely get to see in our life out west.

Crossing Pennsylvania was a rainy blur.  The last time we visited Pennsylvania in 2010 we discovered beautiful visitor centers and the fabulous Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania.  It was raining then too, but we took more time to meander and enjoy ourselves.  This time we didn’t meander.  We Drove.  We crossed the entire state of Pennsylvania in one day, landing on the night of the 21st in the Youngstown Air Reserve Family Camp on the eastern border of Ohio.

We landed in the late afternoon, in time to park and go for a walk before I cooked supper.  Homemade burgers and mac salad were perfect after our long driving day.  The family camp was a sweet little surprise.  Small and quiet, with only 15 sites or so, we settled into our site, which had a problem with the water and sewer hookup with a giant construction hole beside our hookup pedestal.  We were fine without either, knowing that the next night we would have access to both on the other side of Ohio. The camp was very clean but we never managed to check out the bathrooms and the laundry.  The $15 charge for the site was perfectly reasonable and Jason the camp host was delightful and very helpful. He took our payment over the phone since we were arriving after the office closed and made sure we knew how to get into the park after hours.

Our routine on these travel-focused days is fairly straightforward.  Up at daylight, one walks the dog while the other makes a light breakfast and coffee.  Plan to be on the road by 8 most of the time, working in concert with each other and doing the routine jobs of prepping the MoHo for travel.  I am best in the morning so most of the time I take the first shift driving, usually clocking in 2 or 3 hours before Mo takes over. On a long day, I might take over again after she drives for a few hours, but usually, it is just one driving shift for each of us. 

When we land, Mo does the outside hookup part while I level, put out the slide, and move all our stuff around inside for another night.  I cook a simple dinner of some sort and if we have internet we check mail, messages, and money.  We plan our route for the next day, estimating our remaining fuel and deciding where we need to fill up based on proximity to the route we are traveling and current fuel prices.  One of us takes the dog for a walk and then we settle in to watch another episode or two of Homeland, the old TV show that kept us fully entertained on the entire trip. To bed with some reading and up the next morning to do it all over again.

Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?!!  It was the reality of getting across parts of the country that we decided weren’t on our list of must-do’s for this trip. I think we were somewhere in Ohio when I took this photo of Mo driving and the main thing I noticed at the time was that the “green tunnel” of trees began to have a few openings and views of some open space.

The next morning, the 22nd, we did it all over again crossing the entire state of Ohio to Dayton.  Mo has a family of long-time friends that once lived in California but are now residents of this part of Ohio.  Don and Millie Hunsaker knew Mo when she was a young teacher getting her master’s degree in Fresno California.  They have been close friends for all those years and we were saddened when Millie passed away last year.  It was important to see Don.  Two of Don and Millie’s daughters visited us last summer in Oregon, but Don isn’t traveling much now.  Visiting Don was a priority.

We made reservations at the beautiful Wright-Patterson AFB Family Camp for two nights, in order to have plenty of time for seeing all the family.  Wright-Patterson is on the list of top Military FamCamps we have visited.  The sites are roomy and the grounds are beautiful.  There was a beautiful grassy dog park near our site, a spotless laundry room where I had a chance to catch up on laundry, and long, hot, wonderful showers in roomy clean stalls without slippery floors.  What more could a camper ask for?

Mo and I took turns walking Mattie and simply enjoying the quiet and the lovely space.  We had a sweet guy as a neighbor, who seemed quite lonely who came over to ask us if we would sell our motorhome to him.  He had owned a Dynamax but let it go after his wife died and regretted it.  He was still adjusting to traveling alone in a small camper van. He was soft-spoken and kind and gave us his card to be sure that if we ever sold our rig we would call him first. It is one of the perks of traveling when you cross paths with people you might never talk to any other way.

On Friday after catching up on laundry, showers, and general relaxation, we went over to Don’s to visit.  The girls and their families came later in the day to cook a big dinner for everyone.  Stephanie plays piano and gave us a demonstration, and I got to play the lovely baby grand as well. 

There was lots of laughter and of course, many photos were taken to attempt to get everyone to smile at the camera at the same time.  One of the grandkids held a photo of precious Millie to be sure that she was part of the gathering. It was a sweet visit if a bit poignant. 

I am not sure we will get to see Don again since the distance between Oregon and Ohio is a long way and some of us are in our 80s.

After our luxurious two-night stay, on Saturday morning we woke early to once again get on the road to reach our next destination before supper.  Mo has a niece living in East Peoria, Illinois.  We get to see Angie, her guy Dave, and the girls, Ashli, Samantha, and Jessi more often than we do the Hunsakers since they often travel to Oregon to visit family.  Still, it was nice to have a chance to visit the family in their home territory.

Millpoint RV Park was near Angie’s home and she came over for a visit that evening.  She brought pizza for all of us, including her daughter Ashli with her guy Evan who also came for the visit.  As is often the case with teenagers, the other daughters had other commitments so couldn’t come. We celebrated with a campfire and marshmallows and more laughs about family memories and stories. 

The first time I ever had one of these giant marshmallows was with Angie’s mom Nancy, and I wanted a photo of her daughter trying to eat one.  The kids were great fun too with lots of jokes and funny comments about life in general for young people living in Illinois. 

Ashli and Evan bought a sweet little house and have a very cute dog and being on social media a lot give us a chance to watch all their fun antics.  Date night and dog photos are especially fun.  Angie is a runner, and social media gives us a chance to see her runs and her obstacle course Spartan races that entail doing stuff that I thought only military recruits had to do in Basic Training. 

Millpoint RV Park was a sweet little surprise, right along the Illinois River which is called Peoria Lake in that area.  The host was an interesting guy, and the park seemed a bit strange at first, but it was a delightful stop for us and a perfect place for a visit and a campfire.

The next morning we were up early once again, with our usual routine of being on the road by 8.  Our destination for the night was the Wisconsin State Fair RV Park in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  We found the park by searching for something as close as possible to Mo’s cousin Leah who lives in Milwaukee.  Mo wasn’t sure of the last time she saw Leah, but they think it was when Leah and her mother (Mo’s Aunt Pearl) visited when Mo lived in Rocky Point, Oregon several years ago.  Aunt Pearl is now gone, but I looked forward to meeting Leah in person since we have been facebook buddies for some time now.

We crossed the state of Illinois and entered Wisconsin, once again missing the state sign as Google Girl said “Welcome to Wisconsin”.  Nice to know she is always on the job.

When we arrived at the State Fairgrounds we were a bit aghast at the park.  Our site was in a gravel parking lot across the street from the main park.  It was not the least bit level, and with our touchy levelers not working properly, we had to use blocks to get us even somewhat level.  Mo discovered the problem with the levelers the previous day when they stopped working as we were setting up at Millpoint.  Somehow the motherboard had come loose under the rig and the wiring was no longer working properly.  That problem remained with us for the rest of the trip.  It is amazing how many RV parks cannot manage to create a level campsite.

After we settled in, Leah and her younger sister Lynette arrived for a sweet little visit in the MoHo.  That worked best for them rather than the four of us attempting a visit at Leah’s home or in a restaurant somewhere.  It was great seeing them, and I especially enjoyed meeting Leah in person.  Leah and Mo had many fun stories about family history.  A special story of the birth of Mo’s mother in the homestead country of North Dakota was amazing.  The best part of the story is that Leah retold it exactly the way Mo had been told the story.  Unlike some family stories, this one was right on, word for word.  It had something to do with an epic snowstorm and Mo’s mother Mae being born in the blizzard.  Sheesh!

We had spent so many nights in quiet dark campgrounds that it was a bit disconcerting to have the bright fairground lights all around us.  In addition, the street was right next to us and car lights shined in our front windows all night long.  Add the sounds of sirens to all that and we were glad the MoHo is fairly soundproof and that our shades can keep out most of the light. I cannot believe I never got a photo of our asphalt parking lot.  The utility post was behind us, through a chain link fence with a hole in it. Mo had to walk half-way around the lot to get behind the rig where I fished the water and electric cords to her through the fence.

We had only planned to stay in Milwaukee one night, but after picking up travel brochures at the campground office I realized that we were in a rather amazing city and thought about readjusting our plans so that we could explore it a bit. Part of the reason we needed to rethink our travel plans was that after talking with my daughter Deanna, I realized that my planning hadn’t included the fact that my great-grandkids would be back in school when we arrived in Washington State.  We needed to slow down and figure out where we could spend 4 extra nights to arrive on the right day to see the kids.  It was sometime in the middle of the night when I woke up Mo and said, “Let’s extend our stay on this steep spot of pavement and spend a day exploring Milwaukee”.  She loved the idea, and as soon as the office opened in the morning I added another night to our reservation.  It wasn’t a problem and we didn’t have to move our site, although we might not have minded having a bit more level spot.

This was one of the best decisions of our trip.  That extra day in Milwaukee gave us a chance to visit a truly amazing city with a fascinating history.  I had no idea Milwaukee was so beautiful, with gorgeous neighborhoods lining the shores of gorgeous Lake Michigan.  I somehow thought it was an industrial city without much to see.  I had no clue that there were homes along Lake Michigan that rivaled any we saw in some of the finer neighborhoods on the east coast.

We started the morning with a “real” breakfast, in a “real” restaurant.  I picked the Mad Rooster from an internet search for breakfast without a clue that we were choosing one of the most well-known, most popular breakfast restaurants in Milwaukee.  The restaurant was fascinating, with amazing murals of farms and chickens, and an extensive menu that made choosing what to have a difficult one. 

I especially wanted the greek yogurt made from organic milk with honey, but I also wanted chicken fried steak and fried red potatoes and onions and so much more, including fresh squeezed orange juice and fancy breakfast cocktails.  Oh my.  I finally decided on a fancy frittata filled with all sorts of goodies and a side of that amazing yogurt and of course fresh orange juice.  Yummy!  Between the two of us, we had leftover breakfasts for two more days with all the good food.

We did learn later in the day from the park camp hosts that the wait at the Mad Rooster was often more than 2 hours, even on a weekday.  I was glad that we decided to go just before their opening time of 7am and were one of the first customers in the restaurant.

Much like we did when planning our day in Portland, Maine, we decided to see the beaches and the lighthouse before exploring the city.  We were in no rush, and had no absolute requirements for the day except seeing something new and something of what the city of Milwaukee was all about.

We were surprised to discover that our campground was only seven short miles via freeway from downtown, and downtown was very close to the beautiful shoreline of Lake Michigan.  With a bit of circling about, we found the road leading to Bradford Beach.  On the way, circling around through various curvy roads, we found a beautiful neighborhood park with an available parking space.

Our exploratory walk took us to Atwater Beach, past a beautiful neighborhood sculpture, and along a boulevard line with magnificent homes.  Once again, we wondered who might live in these homes?  Industrial kingpins? Beer magnates?  After all, Milwaukee is famous for being the home of the greatest beer making in the US.  Or maybe investors. 

We saw many houses in the process of renovation, wondering if perhaps they were being bought up by foreign investors and then turned into vacation rentals.  It seems that is happening everywhere.  Why else would so many of these gorgeous mansions be up for sale and being renovated?

After wandering the streets for a bit, we returned to the car, winding back around narrow little roads that led us in some circles before dumping us out one more time at a perfect parking place.  We were right in front of the pathway leading to the North Point Light Station.

Mo and I got a lot of laughs out of the “selfie” mirror behind the lighthouse.  How do you take a selfie in a mirror anyway??

When we got out of the car, we met a lovely woman who appeared to be a local and asked her about what we might want to see in Milwaukee.  After listening to our plans, she concurred except for one historic neighborhood we had planned to visit. Then ensued an interesting conversation about crime in the city and how sad it is that the gangs had taken over so much of the area in that particular part of town.  I must say, the part of the city we saw was gorgeous, and clean and I saw no evidence of anything that indicated there were anything but happy, friendly, nice people everywhere we went.

The lighthouse was interesting, with an interesting history.  It seems they added a newer structure to life the existing structure an additional 74 feet to create a 154-foot tall lighthouse with a light visible more than 10 miles distant.  The lighthouse was only open for tours on certain weekends at certain times, so we missed a chance to visit the museum and the interior of the lighthouse.

We then returned toward the water and found a parking spot along the roadway near Bradford Beach.  Leashes were required, but Mattie still loved running in the sand and did her normal running wildly in circles until she looked at us, panting and worn out.

We gave Mattie a rest while we drove to the old brewery district. Since 1844, Pabst has built iconic brands of beer with deep ties to America’s heritage. We decided that it was worth the time to explore more than 170 years of brewing history right there in Milwaukee  As we drove through the district, jingles from old tv beer commercials kept going through my head. 

Once parked in the district, we marveled at the huge historic buildings, once part of the huge Pabst Brewery complex, now converted to offices and condominiums.  Searching in vain for the Pabst Brewery where we thought to get a tour, we could only find something called “Best Place” offering tours and brewery history.  Once inside the building, we learned that the original brewery no longer existed, but the “best place” was in an original building that housed the offices of Pabst himself in the turret above us.

We declined the hour-long tour, especially with many steps to climb, and instead settled for sharing a $3.00 PBR which we shared while watching a revolving slide show of some of the history of the brewery and some great old ads. 

The beer was delicious!  From the west coast “craft beer” world, it was fun tasting an old-fashioned beer that tasted just like beer.  I had never thought of Pabst Blue Ribbon, much less PBRs as something to seek out, but now I think differently. I did later learn, however, that PBR is now brewed by Miller/Coors in Milwaukee, and that beer brewing is a very complex maze of overlapping companies. In case you would enjoy going down an internet rabbit hole, here is a link to 11 things to know about Pabst Blue Ribbon.  This will lead you to many more links and a LOT more information about one of the greatest stories of American brewing history in our country.

We ended our day with the highly-rated Lakefront Brewery, where we navigated the trendy crowd and strange ordering system to have a beer, some french fries, and fried cheese curds, definitely a Milwaukee thing. 

The cheese curds were actually delicious.  I have had the squeaky things in the past and have not been a fan, but put a crispy coating on anything and fry it and it is great.  They were even good cold as leftovers! The fancy craft beer, however, couldn’t hold a candle to that $3. PBR we shared earlier in the afternoon.

We returned to our campsite, tired and happy, and ready to continue west.  Our visiting portion of the cross-country trip was over for the next ten days until we once again returned to the Pacific Northwest.