Flooding and Rain and Bears, Oh My!

The next morning I packed up and headed straight for Matt's Service Station. A huge storm was coming and the radio promised hail the size of golf balls. The maid, a sweet older lady with dark glasses who was sweeping the walkway, said, "I hope the hail doesn't damage your car!"
"Thanks, I hope so too! By the way, that room is the cleanest room I've ever stayed in for the price!"
"Why, thank you!" she called as the rain began to pour.

My car gave a ghastly squeal as it lurched out of the parking lot. At the repair shop, I parked and ran inside one of the open bays to escape the deluge. A handsome man with bright blue eyes said hello as he mounted a tire on a Border Patrol SUV. "Be right with ya!"

He wiped his hands as he came over, and I asked, "Would you be able to look at my car today?"
He pointed around at the all the vehicles already in the bays. "Well, maybe this afternoon or tomorrow. We're pretty full right now. Are you going to be around later on today?"
"Um, I guess so. I wasn't trying to be.""Are you just passing through?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what seems to be the matter with it?"
"It's got this ugly squeak and it's been shaking real bad."
"Prob'ly got rocks in your tire rims. You get stuck in the mud recently?"
"Yeah, yesterday."
"That's prob'ly it. I'll have my guy take it around and see what he hears. Hey, Caleb!" He called to a cute blonde boy with blue eyes, who came over and took the keys and then shot me a look as he tried to slide the seat back. With a case of bottled water, a bag of towels, a guitar, a pillow and a backpack behind it, it didn't want to move.

The car lunged back with a horrendous moan and I pointed after Caleb as he drove down the rainy street. "That's it! Did you hear it?"
"Yeah. Ya got rocks in your rims."

When Caleb pulled the Civic back in, he and the handsome man started taking the tires off right away. Confused, I said, "If you don't have time right now, I can wait."
Caleb answered, "No, it's okay. This'll be quick. We'll getcha back on the road. Trust me, you don't wanna be stuck in Malta, Montana."
"Oh. Well, thank you!"

While the handsome guy balanced one of my tires on a machine, I asked, "Are you Matt?"
"No, I'm Jeff. Matt passed away a year ago. I took the shop over. I got a farm up the road too. Cattle. What're you doin' way out here?"
We were interrupted by a boy of about 8 who came running over to Jeff, wrapping his arms around the man's torso. "Daddy, gimme a hug!" he cried.
Jeff laughed. "Okay, okay, I love you too. Now you go back over with Mom 'cause it's dangerous back here." The boy scampered off through a doorway.

I explained about the book as they hosed my tires off. "So this is your first time in Montana?" Caleb asked.
"Yes! I love it! Are you from here?"
"Naw, I'm from Washington. But I like it better out here."
"Why?"
"People are nicer. In Washington they kind of act snobby. Besides, I met my wife in college and she's from here so we live here now. Where else're you goin' in Montana?"
"Um, probably Missoula and Bozeman."
"Missoula's okay. But that's where the.... how do I say this without sounding mean..... granola people live."
I laughed. "That's fine with me, I like granola!"
He shook his head and smiled.
When they were all finished, I followed Jeff into the office to pay. "Tire balancing's usually $25.00. Cleaning's extra. Eh, I'll charge ya twenty."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure!"
I blushed. He didn't have to do that.

I made my way out of the rain by heading west while the wind blew east. In Cut Bank I knew I was getting close to Glacier National Park. I could see the slightest hint of snow-capped mountains in the distance and felt my eyes well. I was almost there.

Near Cut Bank was a historical site. There are historical sites all over the upper-Midwest, but this one caught my eye because it wasn't just a sign, it was a three-walled structure built over two large rocks that sat behind wooden rails. A sign read, "Buffalo Head Rocks", and explained the story of Blackfoot Indians who worshipped the rocks for their resemblance to bison heads. I wasn't the only one there. A mini-van full of small, dark-haired children waited as their grandmother and another young man prayed over the rocks, smoking cigarettes. They were each full-blooded Native American, and spoke softly in a language I didn't understand. When they were done praying, each took a drag of their cigarette and put them out on the rocks. The young man rubbed the butt of his so the tobacco fell on the cool stone, then he placed the filter on top. "What in the hell?" I thought, watching them get back in the van.

I walked up to the rocks and saw dozens of cigarette butts all over them. There was also sagebrush and other bundles of herbs lying on top, tied with red and pink ribbons. Cigarette butts lie in between the two stones, and I tried to imagine a reason why. Did the Blackfoot farm tobacco? Were cigarette butts considered holy? Did some careless person just put their butt out next to the rocks and start a sad trend? I couldn't ask those people, they were already gone. Besides, judging from the graffiti on the walls of the structure, I don't think they would have answered.

Someone drew a heart with teardrops in it and wrote, "9-11-01 Jesus is The Answer -- Please Pray for USA!"
Someone else wrote, "White Pride Did It!"
I got back in my car and drove off.

In Browing, which is on the Blackfoot Indian Reservation, I stopped for gas, ice and beer. It's voting season in Montana and the campaign signs were out in full force. "Elect Henry Butterfly, Ward 8!" "Vote Roger 'Sassy' Running Crane!" A gorgeous long-haired brindle mutt came straight up to me at the pump, begging for food. She cuddled my knees and I scratched her ears, feeling the thick knots of matted fur. I didn't give her any food but she still followed me up to the door. She was waiting patiently for me when I came back out, and followed me back to the car. I kneeled down to kiss her nose, debating on taking her with me. "I'd have to shave her just to get these knots out, and I'd have to buy more towels because she needs a bath, and the food... and hmmmmm....what to do, what to do?" As I nuzzled her face, she rolled over, exposing large teets that had been newly nursed. "You're a new mama! Well, in that case, I can't take you with me. Sorry, honey."

A voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "Ma'am with the Honda, please move your vehicle if you are finished pumping!
I got back in my car and drove off.

The closer I got to Glacier, the more excited I became. I left for this trip to meet new people, the National Parks are just a perk I get to do for myself. It's a little harder to meet people in the parks, but I still enjoy the hiking and scenery. I came through the town of East Glacier and passed a bunch of little shops and large hotels. The Thimbleberry Restaurant promised Real Montana-Style Cookin' and another cafe hawked their huckleberry french toast. A huge purple spoon stood by the roadside, next to a sign that read, "World's Largest Purple Spoon!" I was going to take a picture, but why conform?

Coming around a bend and passing the sign that read, "Glacier National Park," I saw the mountain lake clearly through the trees and let out a cry of some sort. My eyes misted and it hit me -- I'm really doing it. I'm really here in Montana, seeing all this for the first time because I worked my ass off and didn't stop when people told me I was crazy and didn't give in when people stole from me and didn't give up when everything seemed hopeless. I started praying, something I don't do often, thanking God for her guidance and blessings.

I drove to the path that leads to Running Eagle Falls and jumped out to walk the trail. I wore my flip-flops and dipped my toes in the frigid water as I came around the turn to the falls. It was gorgeous. White water roared over the top of the cliff, shooting spray for several yards. The water was so cold my toes hurt just from being immersed a few seconds, and so clear that I could see straight to the bottom even in the deepest parts. The mountains in the background made the view stunning, despite the clouds. I was in heaven, and almost hated to walk back to the car.

It was getting late, about 6:30 at night, and I was the only person around, that I could tell. I pulled out of the Running Eagle parking area and crossed the ____ river. I was barely paying attention, just looking at the sky and wondering if rain was imminent, and I almost missed the tiny black bear cub on the side of the road. I slowed down, and he stood up on his hind legs to look at me. I pulled the parking brake, and he began to climb a small tree. I grabbed my camera and opened my car door, and he peeked out from the leaves. I stepped out of the car and started looking for his mother behind him. I didn't see her. Leaning on the open door, I turned to close it and heard a snap behind me. And there, on the other side of the road from the cub, was a large mama black bear and she was staring at me. She stood up on her hind legs to show me her size and then dropped to all fours and began advancing towards me. "Well, this is it," I thought. "I've had a good run." I tried to scream but couldn't. All sounds were stuck in my throat and my shoes were stuck to the pavement. Finally I managed to open the car door and get back inside. The window was wide open and I watched her stop short of my front tire, realizing that since I was in the car, I was no longer a threat. Instead, she turned and bumped the hood as she passed in front of me. I exhaled. She ran over to the cub in the tree, to make sure he was alright, and took a seat on the lush ground beside the road. Fumbling with the gears, I started to move, just as another tiny cub darted in front of my car, his skinny hind legs barely keeping up with his fuzzy bottom. He cuddled next to his mother and I tried to snap a picture, my hands shaking so badly that I couldn't get it focused. I knew if I got out of the car to get a better shot, I was as good as dead, so I settled with a mottled picture and kept going, my throat finally releasing its grip as each sound and emotion tried to make its way through at once. I was speaking in tongues; laughing, crying, screaming and gasping simultaneously.

The cloud cover was intense and promised rain, but I held out a daft hope that the storm would wait til morning. Still shaking, I got to the nearest campsite and pitched my tent in a spot underneath some dense trees. I had been hungry, but the bears killed my appetite, so I went on a short hike to retrieve it, looking out for -- what else? -- bears. Bears are scary. I used to think bears were cute and funny but now I know the truth. Finally, I ate my Ramen noodles and my usual three crackers and read "Fear and Loathing" as the sun turned the thick clouds pink.

That night the wind shook my tent as I tried to sleep. In the morning I woke up, cold as a stone, to a flood. The rain had started during the night and everything was soaking, including my pillow. I packed everything up, mostly in plastic bags. It was miserable. And freezing. I changed clothes in the bathroom and scrubbed my face with cold water, then went anywhere I could that had hot coffee and solace from the rain.

I ended up at the huckleberry toast place. The adorable be-faux-hawked boy at the front asked, "How are you?"
"Cold. And wet."
"Well, come on back, we'll fix that!"
He brought me steaming coffee and a menu. I plugged in my laptop and began writing about Wisconsin, saying, "Just bring me your favorite thing and two eggs over medium."
He showed up a few minutes later with a fried object the size of a lunchbox and covered in whipped cream. "What is it?" I asked.
"Hazelnut vanilla stuffed French toast! We batter-fry it!"
"Great!" I said. It was warm, that's all I cared about.

As I typed, the other waiter, a long-haired man with an Eastern European accent, asked me if the thing sticking out of my laptop was a wireless card.
"Yes, but it only works in wi-fi hot spots."
"Oh," he said, "because I went to the Radio Shack and I asked girl many questions but she was not knowing these things."
"Well, I'm not a real good source either."
We chatted for awhile and then I asked him about the weather. "Is it going to be like this all weekend?" I pointed to the downpour.
"Yes, it will be this way for long time."
"Well, in that case I think I'm getting the hell out of Dodge."
"Where will you go?"
"I think Missoula."

The faux-hawk waiter came back over. "So what's your story?"
"Traveling around writing a book. What about you?"
"Eh, I don't know. I move around a lot. I'm from New York City."
"No, shit! Where at?"
"Brooklyn."
"What part?"
"Williamsburg."
"I lived in Greenpoint!" I cried.
"Oh! That's cool! Yeah, I left just to see other parts of the country.""Me too. Where'd you go?"
"Southern California."
"Me too!"
"No shit!"
We talked and he extolled the virtues of Oregon. "You have to go, it's beautiful."
"Oh, definitely. I have a friend there, I'm going to visit her. Maybe I can drag her to Willamette Falls and Crater Lake."
"Yeah, that'd be really cool," he said. "I might go back to New York."
He should; with his frame and wide-set blue eyes he could be a model.

A table of five college kids came in and asked if I was getting wi-fi. "Sorry, no, but there's an Internet cafe place with laundry and showers about a mile down the road."
"Showers? Like, hot showers?"
"Yeah, I'm definitely hitting it up when I leave here," I said.
"That's cool. Are you from around here?"
"No, Baltimore. What about you?"
"Oh, we all work down in Grand Teton and we came here for the weekend. But we might go back if this keeps up."
"I hear ya. I think I'm going to Missoula later, and then Yellowstone."
"Well, if you're down in Teton, stop in at the Chuckwagon in Colter Bay! We'll hook you up!"
"Awesome! Will do!"

I payed my check and Faux-Hawk wished me luck on my trip. I thanked him and headed back into the rain. At the Hi-Mountain Laundry Showers ATM High-Speed Internet, I threw my wet clothes in the washer and myself in the shower. My toes were so cold that the hot water made them tingle. Finally, feeling human once again, I left East Glacier and headed down the road towards Missoula.