Columbia Falls, Glacier National Park and other treasures of the north
About 5300 inhabitants and 40 miles as the crow flies to the border with Canada and half an hour’s drive to Glacier National Park: that’s Columbia Falls. A tranquil small town on the Flathead River, with appealing stores, music concerts at the Gunsight Saloon and (still) not too much tourism. Still, I’m glad I live five miles outside, practically in the middle of the woods.
“Living” is, as always, too much to say: for three weeks I will call here my home. And very fast I feel like it. Especially when I “discover” a wonderful swimming lake nearby. Barely ten minutes on foot… and I plunge into the already quite cool water in mid-September. Day after day it becomes still noticeably cooler. There are two swimming spots on the lake accessible to the public, the rest of the shore is privately owned. Most of the lake-view houses are vacation homes and only a few are inhabited year-round. I will keep the name of “my” lake to myself because the residents prefer to see as few strangers there as possible.
Barely 150 feet from “my” house, there is also a creek in which neighbor Thane ice bathes in winter. From the front door, I can hike – for hours if I want to. Sometimes the sky turns all shades of pink for the evening glow. The locals call this spectacle “Alpine Glow”. And there is so little light pollution at night that when there are no clouds in the sky, I can see not only the North Star, but actually the Milky Way.
What more do I want? Perhaps yet a wondrously homely anecdote, as only real life can write it.
David gegen Goliath
May I introduce: This is Pretty Boy, who thinks he’s a much bigger creature than a little tomcat. Why do I think that? Because of the following story. As told by Thane, my neighbor here. It happened when he and Pretty Boy still lived in neighboring Whitefish.
One day, a black bear mama and her two cubs showed up at their house – attracted by a pot of birdseed on the wooden railing of the porch. Apparently the bear liked it, because the next day Papa Bear followed. In the meantime, Thane had placed the pot further up under the porch roof. Out of reach – or so he thought. But Papa Bear, not being stupid, climbed up onto the railing to snack from there on the birdseed in the pot.
This was going too far for Pretty Boy. As a former stray cat, he went on the attack. And hard to believe: Papa Bear backed off. Pretty Boy pursued him – and chased the much more powerful bear not only out of the yard, but drove him all the way into the forest. That’s how big the territory of a little tomcat can be.
Finally, I drive to Glacier National Park, which was originally at the top of my agenda. Actually, I only want to go to Lake MacDonald, the largest lake in the park. Glacier Lake is crystal clear because the cold water allows neither plankton nor algae. That’s why it’s easy to spot millions of colorful pebbles on the bottom. They were formed sometime from the ice age at different times, their color depends on the content of iron and other minerals. I myself see none of that on this day. Because of road construction work along the lake I just drive on and find myself unexpectedly in the Rocky Mountains.
Mighty rocks, hairpin curves. Sunshine, mountain peaks under gloomy cloud caps, rain. The explanation is called Triple Divide Peak. At 10,466 feet, the mountain is the watershed at whose flanks the catchment areas of three oceans meet – the Pacific, Atlantic and Arctic Oceans. Hence the name. It is this function as the apex of the North America continent that gives rise to the name “Crown of the Continent” for the park and the region. The main ridge also separates the park as a climatic divide into two very different climatic zones: The western side is subject to the maritime influence of the Pacific Ocean with moderate temperatures and high precipitation, while the eastern side belongs to the continental climate, which is characterized by extreme seasonal temperature differences and the blizzards typical of North America.
On this day, I once think I recognize sleet or tiny hailstones in the precipitation on the hood of my car. A fascinating world, which I would like to explore another time in more detail. On the way back, I stop briefly at Lake McDonald, but evening is already falling. Too much to see for one day. I therefore also postpone my visit to the reservation of the Blackfoot tribe, which borders the national park to the east, until next time.