We had planned to hike to Grinnell Glacier on this date and
I was crestfallen to find out when we got here that the trail up there is not
even open yet. The entire area is still covered with snow, ice axes and
crampons recommended for hiking. So, change of plans and we chose a different
death march.
Woke up planning to meet up with a Park Ranger for a guided
group hike to Hidden Lake. When the alarm went off, I attempted to sit up, only
to find that I could not even open my eyes, my head hurt so badly. I thought I
had a migraine, but George hit the nail on the head. I was dehydrated; hard for
me to accept because I had forced myself to chug down more than a half-gallon
of water over the course of the day before. And George drank the other half of
that gallon! There was simply no way we were hiking anything until I got my
headache under control. So I took a few Tylenol, George covered me back up and
l lie there, listening to him fall back asleep. I know George has never minded extra sleep, in
the morning, in the afternoon or an early bedtime! When I finally awoke again,
my head felt considerably better, but we were still not hiking. Not what I had
planned, but so be it.
Of course, George woke back up first and was reading next to
me when to his surprise, a little boy was standing in our campsite, 5 feet from
our Joey, looking in the window (mistake #2). George did not bother to wake me,
but gave the poor kid a “I see you, now get lost you little troll” look and
hand wave/motion. He told me about it when I woke up. Man, I wish I had been
awake. I would have chased that kid! These were the same monsters that were
screaming about a snake and running around an hour after quiet hours the night
before (mistake #1). Lucky for me, the kid, his two sisters and HIS MOM were
walking past our campsite as we were readying to leave. I told on him. Yes, I
tattled on an eight year old. Well, technically, I tattled on HER, because he
was actually a she (a very tomboyish she). And while George and I
talked to the mom (smart kids, they ran away), George continued to call the kid
“your son” despite the poor mom’s attempts to correct him that it was her
daughter. What a mess!
It ended up that THEY left before us! And they left all of
their dishes and cook stove and other cooking junk all over their campsite,
mostly drying on their picnic table after breakfast (mistake #3). Now, I hate
dealing with other people that do not do what they are supposed to. In this
case, leaving their food-related objects out when they are not in use and when
the owners are not present. We have seen signage literally everywhere telling
us not to do this (and that a campsite should be bare) because of wildlife
(mainly bears). I have seen info about this in the park newspaper, the park
map, every trailhead, the bathrooms, the dumpsters, taped on every single
picnic table and even been verbally told by more than a dozen park employees. I
simply do not understand how these people failed to get the memo. So, we
tattled again. In my defense, this was their third infraction of idiocy and
George put it well, “They are putting everyone else here at risk because of
their carelessness. Let the rangers deal with them.” Well said!
We took the day instead to drive up to Logan Pass from the east entrance, take some pictures and use the roadside pullouts. We stopped and walked the Sun Point Nature Trail and the Baring Falls trail. Up at Logan Pass, we were lucky enough to arrive to find a herd of bighorn sheep bedded down in the snow near the Visitor’s Center. Took some great pictures and headed back down for quick (remember, they are timed!) showers before zipping over to Browning, MT for the start of Indian Days.
We actually ate dinner in the town’s casino. There were food vendors at the fairgrounds, but cotton candy, lemonade, fry bread and the like didn’t seem like dinner. I was surprised to find loose dogs running all over the place. Very few families leashed their pups and many brought their new puppies to the festivities, cradling them like babies. Oh how badly, we both wanted to kidnap a pooch, for no other purpose than to have something to pet on for the rest of this trip.
We missed the opening ceremonies in person, but we got to
see them broadcast on the casino’s closed-circuit TVs. We browsed the artisan’s
tables just for fun; we weren’t in the market for anything in particular. We
ended up buying four things, a signed CD from a Native flutist (who has
actually come to Frederick before on tour!), a money clip for George, an
ornament for our Christmas tree and a small turtle finished with a horsehair
glaze. George purchased another similar-sized turtle on our honeymoon, but it
was decorated in the Navajo style, shiny black with dark grey design. So now we
have two.
When we arrived in the performance arena, we got there just
before the dance demonstrations were starting. Everyone was asked to stand for
the men’s 65+ dancer category. Watching these tribal elders dance in the
costumes that they had put so much energy into was like watching something from
a bygone era. For a few moments you ceased to notice the astro-turf, the kids
running around with glow-in-the-dark necklaces and the baby strollers. Every
single costume was different and this was the part that George liked the most,
which surprised me. They were all homemade and each had little elements that
showed how much time, effort and acre had gone into its creation. I loved the
drum circles; 6 separate groups took turns performing. It gave me goosebumps to
listen to these guys sing and watch some press fingers against an ear to hear
better and others press fingers against throats. We both were so pleased to see
tons of kids were dressed up, and as the sun went down, everyone was invited to
dance together. Parents in full dress, dancing and holding their children’s
hands went round and round the arena. I was teary and felt very lucky that we
were there. Unless we win a million bucks or something else akin, this is
probably going to be my favorite part of the trip.
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