Making Lemonade

Failing to make plans sometimes means plans fail.

Today we leap off the main highway and climb higher and higher into
the great expanse of Montana's northwest, aiming for Glacier National
Park.

What a glorious day, unbelievable vistas (I took no pictures ... can
you believe it?) and air so delicious it's lunch itself. An opaque
curtain of mist opens into rain showers, leaving behind that sweet
smell of ozone.

A huge lake, Lake Flathead, accompanies us on our right for more than
30 miles, Starving Horse, a painful name for a little town, titillates
tourists. Miles upon miles of ranch land feeds cattle, wild horses
and hares so big, we mistake one for a coyote. Or a fox. We aren't
sure. (It's roadkill, so I guess it really doesn't matter ...)

The ever-present Rockies loom large and luscious.

Finally, after six hours of this back-roads travel, we arrive at the
park, tired, but excited about the adventure to come. We see a deer.
Nice.

We then learn there's no room. All the campgrounds are filled (except
for one at the end of a 30-mile really dirty dirt road). And Otto, our
motor home, is three feet too long to travel the road that crosses the
park. And that road is under construction anyway with delays of up to
four hours, or did the sign say six?

We turn around and leave.

So now, we're parked overnight in a WalMart parking lot in Kalispell,
MT, after an hour of backtracking through back country roads. So
what? We might not be out in the wilds, but the Rockies loom large and
luscious here, too.

The air is crisp. The night is cool. What a glorious end to a
glorious day.