Working our way from Idaho to South Dakota required traversing the great state of Montana from west to east, though not the entire state, since we dropped south out of Billings through the upper right-hand corner of Wyoming. But that distance was almost the same as if we did cross the entire state, and if you hadn’t already noticed, Montana is large. That is why our series of stops throughout the state get their own blog post. Plus Wyoming!
But first, while I’m on a state-features sort of dealio, when we were in Idaho, we were in the panhandle. Many states have panhandles, and we all accept that descriptor of that type of feature. My question is, why don’t we ever refer to the part of the state that isn’t the panhandle as the pan? “Hey, ChasingDirt, was this your first stay in the Idaho panhandle?” “Yes, Curious Camper, it was, but we’ve stayed in the pan before, which is also lovely.” I’m going to start referring to the non-panhandle part of panhandle states as the pan, and I encourage you to join the movement!
Our first stop out of St. Maries was Superior MT at Quartz Flat Campground which is part of the Lolo National Forest but is right off the highway, accessed in fact through the rest area. I had called the day before to be sure that the section on the south side of the highway was still open because the north sections had to be accessed through a tunnel — a tunnel that some reviews suggested was no problem for a big rig and others that seemed less certain. The ranger with whom I spoke assured me that it was, and when I asked her about the tunnel, she advised it was probably better not to attempt it. As we drove into the campground road and around to the entrance to the south campsites, I remarked that it was deserted, and we would have the place to ourselves. You’ve probably already guessed that it was deserted BECAUSE IT WAS EFFIN’ CLOSED, and now our only options were to unhook, so we could turn around or attempt the tunnel. While TBG pulled up to center the rig on the tunnel to get a visual on whether or not he thought it would fit, I left a sweet message on the Lolo N.F.’s answering machine.
TBG said, “I think we can make it.” so with antennae scraping the metal roof and me picturing our adventure ending before it had really begun with Essie wedged in a culvert.
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| TBG did it! |
Having made it into the north area, we were hoping to get a spot in the A section because they listed pull-throughs, but that section was closed, too! WTH, NFS? Loop C was open, and was deserted except for the old guy in the white van we had let go around us after the tunnel and who promptly backed into the best big-rig site on the loop. Figures. We had to settle for the second-best one.
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| We see you back there, White Van Man. |
Everything about this campground is odd, from its humongous size, to its light usage, to its well-maintained sites and facilities, therefore, it was no surprise that there is a half-mile Interpretive Nature Trail off the back of the C loop.
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The explanatory leaflets are right there. |
We missed the box with the little leaflets explaining what each numbered post indicated, and we would just stop at the posts and try to guess what they might be designating. It was probably a lot more fun our way.
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| Clark Fork River |
Besides being large, Montana is also apparently packed with bears, which makes total sense since bears are also large and undoubtedly appreciate the elbow room. This campground had bear-proof food boxes placed strategically throughout, signs to educate visitors about bear safety, and huge garbage cans barricaded behind chain-link fence. We neither saw nor heard any, and I can never decide if that makes me happy or disappointed.
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| Room enough for everyone. |
Our next stop was going to be in Drummond, but TBG decided he wanted to keep driving, so we ended up in Cardwell at the Cardwell Store and RV Park, which is pretty much the only thing in Cardwell, but it’s nice and well-kept, complete with Moose Crossing Sweets and Gifts, which is a candy store and ice cream shop.
We took advantage of their showers, wifi, and ice cream after a walk around the neighboring property which had a gravel road around a couple small lakes on one side and the Boulder River on the other.
There were also a few critters.
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| Bluebird — one of my favorites! |
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| Deer baby — one of my other favorites! |
The road noise at this place was extreme — even more than the last — and though it’s pretty there, I can’t imagine hanging outside for long without being thoroughly disturbed by the highway cacophony.
We stayed late into the morning to get a little business done which CAN be done in motion, but that is really annoying. After that, we headed to the Bozeman Walmart Supercenter, WMSCs being the oases of fulltime RV life. For some weird reason, our RV GPS routed us past the store to the next exit, then brought us back through downtown Bozeman. The downtown streets were only slightly wider than that tunnel. But we made it, stocked up, and headed to Columbus to try out a place by the name of Itch-Kep-Pe, a city-owned park where it is FREE to stay for up to TEN nights. (donations encouraged) We had originally only planned for it to be an overnight, but decided the price was right to stay put for a few days.
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| Nothing fancy, but worth the price. |
We took an evening walk down to the back half of the campground, enjoying the sky’s bigness (get it?)
Our first full day was a “stay-at-home” day to clean, organize, and get stuff done in the morning. In the afternoon, TBG got the bikes ready and we tooled into town, riding up and down all the streets, thoroughly enjoying the town’s cuteness. We also stopped at the local IGA for a few things I forgot at WM, and then we spotted an ACE hardware where TBG was able to get a part for the bathroom fan that had stopped spinning.
After dinner, TBG gave me a haircut which I have been wanting since my last one that he encouraged me to go to my old place to have one last professional cut before we hit the road so he would have a good baseline from which to work. I should have saved my money because the gal did a crap job, and I have been itching to have him fix it, and fix it he did!
For our second full day, we researched local hikes, and chose one about an hour away in the Custer National Forest called Sioux Charley Lake which the online descriptions say is a 6.5 mile trek,
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| But the sign says it is 7 miles RT |
The signs also say that “Bears are currently active in this area.” They didn’t say what kind of bears, so I was hoping for pandas.
The online reviews say that the best part of the trek is the first mile or so, and boy howdy, they weren’t wrong. The trail follows the Stillwater River through scenery like this:
The non-panda types of bears that can cause you misery don’t like singing, even high-quality singing such as my own, so I did a lot of singing in order to keep the pestering sorts bears at bay.
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| Runnning through my reperatoire. |
The lake isn’t really a true lake, but a widening of the river which forms a very lake-like feature.
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| We weren’t trying to be matchy-matchy but he copied me. |
There were critters, albeit no bears, there as well.
On the way back, as we were in the thicker parts of the undergrowth, there arose a rustling. I knew it wasn’t a bear, but I didn’t know what the hell it was, and I exclaimed such, “What the hell is that?!” TBG thought that was the funniest thing since the last funniest thing I said, and found it even funnier when out popped these
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| I think it’s a Blue Grouse. |
TBG thinks they should be renamed the What-the-hell-is-that Grouse. har har HAR. They didn’t seem very worried about us at all, and they crossed the trail behind us, chuckling amongst themselves as they went. The rest of the way back was uneventful.
We used our in-rig shower for the first time that evening, and I must say, it was superb. It probably ruined me as far as campground showers are concerned, but it made our last night in large Montana quite pleasant.
Onto Buffalo, Wyoming and a place called Mikesell Potts Recreation Area.
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See? |
We had a few missteps getting situated here, first driving blithely past a Keep Out sign and down a private drive/road on which we had to unhook and turn around (no one came at us with a shotgun, or without one for that matter, so that turned out all right.) Then we chose a campsite, put the jacks down, put the slides out, and I went up to deposit our money. As I was studying the posted campground map, it dawned on me that we were parked in front of our site on the road. I shared my suspicion with TBG who went over to consult the host who confirmed we were askew. A relatively painless readjustment, but, seriously hosts! We drove right by you, set up almost next door to you, and you didn’t notice a thing? Nice job if you can get it.
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| Pretty great site, properly done. |
I’m pretty sure I saw a sea monster. At first, I thought it was a seal’s head, but then I remembered where I was. So then I thought it was a log, but then I re-remembered where I was. All I know is that it was the size of a seal head and rather beige. Subsequent research points to it being one of the lake’s monster trout, but that didn’t look like no kinda trout.
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| Sea-monster view of Essie. |
Once safely back, I sent TBG for a spin. I did warn him of the monster, but he was undeterred.
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| Later, a sunset walk. |
Day two brought a brilliant sunrise.
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| Looks like a sunset, doesn’t it? |
The afternoon found us on a long bike ride
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| Gobble! |
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| Antelope |
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| Pardon me, I am a Pronghorn, not an antelope! |
We had noticed on our drive in a Honey For Sale sign, so we stopped in since we happened to be out of honey. The outside of the large metal building was a-swarm with honey bees, but we could find no people. I mused aloud that perhaps they were all dead inside from anaphylactic shock. I’m fun like that.
On our walk the following morning, we saw people moving about the building (whew!) and we hurried that way to inquire about procuring some honey. The friendly fellow said we could’ve gotten it any time by just going in the door, choosing the size we wanted, and depositing money in the honor-system box. That’s just what we did later when we had money on us.
The water was choppy in the afternoon because of the breeze, so TBG helped me carry my kayak over to the cove where it was calmer. I circled the cove then came out into the chop, bouncing over the waves with glee, fighting my way to the shore by the RV. TBG was busy doing stuff to the rig and completely missed my jouncey return.
That night, the wind got serious, and we awoke to the sound of our dryer vent flapping in the gale. TBG went out to stuff a towel in it, and while I was watching the waves of the lake crash against the shore, I saw a neighboring campsite’s fire throwing sparks at least 30’ into the (very dry) grass. TBG got a bucket, I held the flashlight, and we made our way over to the fire, where TBG filled the bucket with lake water and doused the fire just as its “owner” came out with a pail of his own. A few bucketfuls later, and a campground inferno was averted. Back at the rig, we pulled in three of the four slides to prevent the wind from shredding the awning canvas, and buried ourselves under the covers to try to get back to sleep. Morning dawned as if nothing untoward had happened.
