I kept opening my eyes and expecting to see the sun come out but had to give up after 3 hours. Gray skies and a wet tent were not exactly what I was hoping for, but it strengthened my lifelong suspicion that when it comes down to predicting the weather, a monkey does a better job than a meteorologist.
I packed up the tent and took a shower in the Commons House and started packing my stuff. I think now that I have less stuff with me, it takes longer to pack the bike. Hope I get better at this soon or I’ll have to wake up 2 hours earlier just to get ready.
Around noon, two of Pam’s friends came over and we talked for a good while, had a bowl of chili, said my goodbyes to everyone and headed toward town. I stopped at the Whitefish Pilot, the local newspaper, and had an interview that will be published next Thursday.
I headed toward Colombia Falls and mailed some unwanted documents back home, then searched the whole town for ear pieces for my MP3 player but no luck. I called up Joe and asked him to buy me a set and send it out with Kyle as there is no big town between Colombia falls and Canada.
I started looking for a camping spot and decided to go to Hungry Horse. Hungry Horse is Montana’s highest and the eleventh largest concrete dam in the U.S. It is built on the south fork of the Flathead River and is the gateway to Flathead National Forest. Water is crystal clear and the dam filled up a gigantic canyon with walls over 1000 feet high. It’s a very scenic drive so I took lots of pictures and finally found a turnout in the road for what seemed to be a perfect camping spot.
The dirt road took me to a beautiful river front spot and before I knew it, I was too close and my front wheel started to sink deeper and deeper. No matter how hard I tried I could not steer the bike out of soft ground and had to stop 2 inches from the water. With not a sole around and no way of getting out, I started walking back the mile or so to the road to get some help. After standing for what seemed to be an eternity, a white SUV came around the curve and I literally threw myself in the middle of road to stop it. The truck came to a stop and they followed me back to the crime scene but they never offered me a ride. I suppose if you’re stupid enough to get that close to the water, you deserve the walk of shame. Lots of pulling and shoving from my two helpers got the heavy beast moving again and I parked it on a high ground this time and in the direction of the road.
After pitching the tent and gathering some wet driftwood, I now have a fire going with a meat stew cooking on the coals as I’m writing this blurb. A little bit of fishing later and a cup of tea should cap off this gray and still wet day. Looking forward to seeing the sun one of these days…