GTV First Loop: Holland Lake, Flathead National Forest

Mel here. From this trip’s inception, our biggest question mark was this:  Would we be able to backpack? (Would the van and our stuff be safe? Where would we leave it? How would we get to the trailhead? How would we get back? Would we even have room in the GTV for the backpacking equipment?)

I’m happy to report that within one week on the road we answered all of these questions to our great satisfaction. Let me explain. No, it would take too long—let me sum up:

From Lake Five Resort in West Glacier we scooted into Whitefish for Jeff’s birthday breakfast at the Buffalo Cafe. From there we took Rt. 83 south through some pretty country (including Swan Lake, which tickled me for no reason I can fathom) and into the Flathead National Forest. With mountains on both sides, there were a zillion places we could have pulled off for the night; we chose (Lower) Holland Lake, a few clicks to the east down a dirt road.

Flynn approves.

After setting up camp at Holland Lake Campground, we hiked a short out-and-back to the end of the lake and up a few hundred feet to a waterfall that (so we learned from the sketchy trailhead map) connects Upper with Lower Holland Lake.

Hey! That gives me an idea…

Over birthday dinner of Jeff’s famous pasta carbonara, a fine arugula salad and—of course—birthday cupcakes, we weighed the genius versus utter stupidity of heading into the woods on our first backpacking foray…on a whim and without a real map.

On one hand, no real beta on the trail, no guidebook description, lacking good map and in bear country. And, you know, general wussiness. On the other hand, we had stumbled upon our perfect imagined scenario—a nice, quiet campground with attentive campground host where we could pay to leave the van in a (we hoped) safe environment and walk just a quarter mile to a trailhead. A loop hike (which as previously mentioned, everyone loves a good one of). And, you know, adventure.

You can guess where this is going. (Note to moms—no bears were encountered, and we’re fine.)

The next morning, we packed up our backpacks, (wow, that was condensed for the amount of time it took us to find and sort out all our gear), paid the fee for the GTV to sleep at the campground for the night (safer than the trailhead lot, we figured), and set out.

First bit of luck—a couple at the trailhead with a guidebook!

Convinced now that the odds would be ever in our favor, we followed Jeff’s plan to take the harder trail in. (According to the guidebook, doing so changed the hike’s rating from “moderately strenuous” to “strenuous,” but never mind that. It was clearly the better way.)  Up, up, up we climbed with Upper Holland Lake our intended destination. Looking at the pilfered guidebook photo above, it’s the non-highlighted switchback-laden route (or, reading the graph from right to left, up 3,600 feet to Sapphire Lakes, and then back down about 1,200 or so). With packs.

Grueling but gorgeous, with a somewhat arid climate and a few wildflowers still hanging around to greet us, we loved (almost) every minute of the hike. And yet, when the deep blue of alpine Sapphire Lakes greeted us, we couldn't help but call it a day.

In part, we were unable to resist the lake, the great campsite we found and the valley view from our soon-to-be dinner spot.

In part, we forgot the Advil and knew that I for one needed to like the heck down. Mr. Action, on the other hand, scrambled up part of yet another peak to see what he could see.

The next morning we drank coffee, packed up our gear, donned our boots and packs (“Oy, my hips!” “Your hips? My shoulders!” “Your shoulders? My feet!”) and tromped down to Upper Holland Lake. Pretty, but not as picturesque as the Sapphires IMHO.

Then down, down, down, down to Lower Holland, where our beloved GTV awaited, poised to carry us to a well-deserved and well-poured microbrew, a meal cooked by someone else over neither propane nor camp fire, and sleep in a real-for-real stationary bed. What you got, Missoula?

Days’ lesson:  “Oh, I wish I hadn't put on my backpack and taken that hard trail up to that gorgeous spot for the night,” said nobody, ever.

GTV First Loop: The Varner Years

Jeff here. Every year on our birthdays we cyclists have developed the tradition of a long ride. A week into the trip a solo ride was an option, but not as fun. Melissa hatched a plan to get Varner on a train to meet us for a couple days of riding. Varner, being an awesome friend and lover of bike adventure, graciously agreed. The weather, it turned out, was slightly less agreeable (cool and drizzly)…but the show must go on.

We picked up Varner at the train station in West Glacier, only to discover that Amtrak’s assurances that his bike situation was hunky dory were all total crap. Apparently, there’s no checked baggage in West Glacier—on or off. Oh, Amtrak.

After a quick “well this screws us” pityfest, we hatched a plan and chased down the train at its next stop in East Glacier (think Fast and Furious – Van vs. Train). Got the bike. Varner one, Amtrak zero. (Still, you suck Amtrak.)

Switching up riding plans, we suited up and took off from East Glacier on Rt. 49 north, with an opening spur trip to Two Medicine Lake. Melissa and Flynn leapfrogged us in the GTV support car, hooking up at the lakeside turnaround. Back out on Rt. 49 from Two Medicine up Looking Glass Hill, up 89 and over to Browning on Starr School Road then back to East Glacier on 2. Despite the almost constant rain, the 60 mile route was pretty amazing and the views popped out just when we needed them to.

While V and I rode, Mel took advantage of a unique Glacier Park perk. She trail ran four miles to the other side of the lake (sorry Flynn, no dogs allowed on park trails :() and then took a ferry boat back.

After regrouping, showers were had followed by an extremely large Mexican birthday dinner at Serranos. Slightly inebriated we descended on the East Glacier lodge to visit the 70’s era lounge and wander the halls before retiring for the night.

The next morning we headed north in similarly dubious weather. Varner and I nevertheless saddled up in St Mary for a West-East traverse of the Going to the Sun Road. Quickly we got soaked through and stopped at the first sign that said “breakfast,” but it was not to be as they had stopped serving. It was serendipity though, as the skies cleared a bit during our stop and (with a bit of prodding, needling and ribbing from Mel) we decided to push on towards the pass. Up up up with the clouds just high enough to provide amazing views above and into the valley. 

Of course, the weather slowly worsened until we were in a full rain storm. 

A quick stop at the van (note: support vans are awesome – thanks Mel!) before we topped out on Logan pass. Descending the sketchy road in sketchy weather seemed like a bad idea, so we called it a day and drove down together.

With a little extra time we explored the park stopping at a few scenic pullouts and a short hike on the Trail of the Cedars before heading back to Lake Five for showers and hot dogs over the fire. Eventually it was time to bring Varner to the train station in Whitefish (cool town) and have a beer at the local watering hole.

All in all, not exactly the plan but we made it work and had a blast. Thanks Varner! 

Driving back to camp the rains came heavy, the skies emptying to get ready for a week of beautiful weather.

Days’ lesson:  Climbing big mountain passes in the rain is pro.

GTV First Loop: Far West Montana to West Glacier

Day four started with a morning split. Jeff got on the bike and headed out first for a 40 mile rideup Route 56, a rolling road up on of Montana’s many North-South valleys, while I engaged in a morning Tabata by the lake (a road workout where you do 20 seconds of an exercise, take 10 seconds off, then repeat eight times before moving on to the next exercise). And yes, my CrossFit PE friends, that means beach burpees.

The goal of today was to meander our way to within spitting distance of West Glacier. And meander we did, stopping for a few short hikes and some waterfall-gazing. 

Also, Jeff hooked up with a bear.

As we made our approach, I perused the map and noticed a place called Lake Five Resort just outside of West Glacier. A bit off the main road and situated on a lake, we thought it was worth a look. We thought right, as you can see by Melissa’s happy “day four!” sign from the lake. 

With its diving board raft and rickety slide (yes, we tried both out), this is another one of those places that would probably be a crazy, loud nightmare during the summer months. And yet, for us it was serene and perfect. You win again, September travel.

Today’s lesson:  Just say ‘yes’ to the childlike side—especially diving off diving boards and sliding down slides into a lake at 7pm.

GTV First Loop: North Cascades to Big Eddy Campground, MT

Even long driving days are pretty fun out here. After a slow roll out of camp, we paused for some yummy quiche, pastries and coffee at Rocking Horse Bakery in Winthrop, WA. Cute town! Back in the van, we settled in for some quality drive time across the rest of Washington via Route 20, including Wauconda and Sherman Passes--a very different kind of pretty with it's dry climate and spindly pine trees.

After a quick jaunt through the Idaho panhandle (we’ll be back to this state), we made our way just a bit into Montana and called it a day at the lovely, free and completely deserted Big Eddy campground in the Kootenai National Forest (cue Brooklyn voice:  “Ay! Big Eddy!”)

For any National Forest officials who happen to be reading this—we definitely DID NOT ignore the “no camping” sign, pull into the day use area right on the lake, cook up some grilled cheeses and then crawl into bed right there with a view of the water out our window. Nope. Definitely didn't do that.

For the rest of you—we totally did and it was awesome.

Today's lesson:  Some prohibitions are intended for other people.

GTV First Loop: Baker Lake, WA to North Cascades National Park

Before leaving Baker Lake, Mel and Flynn decided to get in a quick trail run while Jeff got things organized and dug into the maps. Realizing on the way in that we were going down…and down…and down (and more importantly, that meant coming out we’d have to go up, and up, and up), we decided to turn around about two miles in. A short spur to the tip of a cape made for the perfect turnaround spot, with a great view of Mt. Baker across the lake. Sorry, no pictures; we were travelling light.

Next, into the North Cascades National Park. This place is a truly unique combination for a national park—stunning beauty AND it’s completely out of the way. So, as you can imagine, in September it boasts a fantastic dearth of crowds. Also, this is one of the few national parks where, at least in certain areas (like off of Route 20) your furry friend can hike with you! Flynn was pleased.

After a quick stop at the info center/ranger station for some hiking beta and the requisite postcard to hang on the GTV’s wall-of-awesomeness, Jeff picked out our hike. Spoiler alert—it was awesome. However, I admit to being a bit of a doubter on the front end. I mean, c’mon, with the ranger warning that four inches of rain were expected the following day, with storm clouds threatening, was picking “Rainy Pass” really the brightest idea? Turns out, it was, and I stand corrected.

Oh. My. God. The views! A challenging and spectacular loop hike (everyone loves a good loop, right?) where the vista around each corner stunned us even more than the last. Photographs will do it more justice than I could…

Wobbly-legged and giddy, we continued our trek east to Lone Fir campground – a climber’s campground where everyone drank their beers and hit the sack early for their pre-dawn approaches -- just outside the park’s border. There we found a lovely spot to picnic on spaghetti with red sauce and chicken sausage, and make our camp for the night. Too tuckered for a camp fire (I forgot to mention we had one the night before. And s’mores) we crawled into bed contented.

Big day. Good day.

Today’s lesson:  If the forecast calls for rain, and the rain clouds threaten rain, you may as well go for the trifecta. The universe might chuckle at your funny, and reward you for your cojones.  

GTV First Loop: Portland, OR to Baker Lake, WA

With a whole host of emotions—primarily strains of excitement and disbelief—coursing through us, we pulled out of Portland round abouts 9:15 AM.  

The first leg of our trip was Portland to Seattle slog. (If you live in either of those two cities, you’re in the midst of an understanding eye-roll right now.) It rained in Seattle.

About 20 miles north of the Emerald City, “Let’s get the hell off of I-5,” I said. And thus began our first of what I imagine will be many, many scenic route detours, fraught with both delightful (hike to ice caves!) and potentially challenging (“Um…did that sign say pavement ends?”) surprises. And yes, the pavement ended. The GTV (Good Times Van) conquered her first stretch of gravel road!

Our intended destination was Mt. Baker recreation area—which we almost blew off because the scenic route took juuuuuuuust a little bit more time than the direct route would have. However, knowing it was unlikely we’d be back up to that area any time soon, we pressed on.

For those familiar with various land designations like “National Park,” versus “National Forest” versus “National Recreation Area” the thing is, we usually avoid the last one. Recreation areas generally mean big, human-made lakes full of speed boats and ski-do’s, piloted by (oh man I’m going to get in trouble for this) drunk rednecks. WHICH I TOTALLY CAN SEE THE FUN OF…it’s just not our bag. 

However, it turns out that the Tuesday after Labor Day weekend, these places are deserted. At least this one was. In a campground of 46 sites, there were two filled—ours and the campground host’s. It was a gorgeous night on the (albeit human made) lake, with mountains in the background, a great campfire, a gour-met first night meal thanks to Jeff (foil packet salmon cooked on the fire, couscous and sautéed kale), a spot of wine and some mighty fine stars.

Oh yeah, then we crawled into our bed and watched the first part of The Big Lebowski. Because we could.

Not a bad start. Not a bad start at all.

Today's lesson:  Even if the road is bumpier, take the scenic route.

And away we go...

Welcome to The Good Times Van -- a blog about two people, their dog Flynn, a Roadtrek Adventurous van, and a two-month trip around the Western Rockies (with diversions).

Six years ago, Jeff and I were on our honeymoon in Europe (it was uh-mazing, as you can plainly see). We got to talking about how many corners of our own country we had yet to explore, and also how we much our then brand new dog Flynn (aka Mr. Pants among a myriad of other names) would love this or that experience we were having. ("Wouldn't Mr. Pants love this hike?"  "Flynn would kill you in your sleep for that Italian salami." That sort of thing.)

At any rate, the two concepts melded together (there may have been some wine involved) into a brilliant idea--what if we got a camper van and toured around the country with the dog? Six weeks at least. Maybe a year. Okay maybe two months.

So, six years later, on this very day, after a one-day delay for HOLY CRAP WE HAVE WAY TOO MUCH TO DO, Jeff, Flynn and I (Melissa) set off for a two-month tour of...whatever we find.

On our agenda:
Living in the moment
Fun
National Parks, Wilderness Areas and other pretty places
Relaxation
Togetherness
Apart time
Finding good food
Enjoying whatever comes our way, because we've scheduled ourselves not at all

NOT on our agenda:
Whining
Worrying
Stress

And away we go...