Heading for Home





Golfing in Montana can be spectacular.

 

Pond by Logan's Pass in Glaciern National Park

My mom used to say that coming home was the best part of any vacation.  I personally have found that traveling gives me greater appreciation for my day-to-day reality at home.  

We took three days driving home from Big Sky.  Rather than driving south on the 15 through Salt Lake City and Las Vegas, we headed northeast to GlacierNational Park, which is up on the Canadian border, and in fact overlaps into Canada.


What a beautiful place that is. It looks prehistoric, with lots of cliffs where glaciers melt into waterfalls.






 

Road between sheer cliffs with longhorn sheep at Glacier Bay

I think my family must have driven through Glacier National Park on one of our family vacations when I was a boy who was thinking more about fishing and playing with cousins in Alabama than the scenery en route.

The highlight of the drives for me was swimming in the motel's pool rather than the amazing panoramas.

In Glacier National Park, the two-lane road winds between sheer mountainsides and steep cliffs.  It seemed like a distant memory from childhood, something out of a recurring dream I used to have of our family going further and further on an ever narrowing road through the mountains.



Not exactly on the trail of Lewis and Clark, but heading home.

Then again, I also think they must have made some kind of dinosaur movie there, because the thought of it being prehistoric kept coming to me.
 

After the hikes I previously described, the skies darkened, so we decided to head to our hotel.  We joined the line of cars behind a driver who chose to go about ten miles per hour under the speed limit and never use a turnout, slowing dozens of cars including our Jeep. 




Logan's Pass trail

It became as dark as night as torrential rain began pouring down and slowed our progress even more.
We had planned to return to the park for a second day, but this drive disuaded us.  Our last minute arrangments hadn't allowed booking a hotel near the entrance, much less in the park.  Instead, our hotel was in White Fish, well over an hour from the 11 mile trail our daughter Gina had highly recommended.  Despite the temptation, we decided to head home the next morning instead of returning to Glacier National Park. 



Taco Bell takeout lunch in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho

We drove back through Couer d'Alene, Idaho, which is a beautiful area, too, and then down into Oregon, where we drove next to the Columbia River for quite a while, stopping for the night at the Comfort Inn Columbia Gorge Gateway.

 

Just as at Glacier National Park, we found hotel space sparse, as tourists apparently didn't know that gas prices were high and the economy weak.  We might have grabbed the last available room in the area.

The Comfort Inn only had the family suite left, which was maybe $20 more than a standard room, and while we didn't need the other two beds, it was a beautiful, comfortable room.

The friendly staff recommended an Italian restaurant nearby with low prices and great food, but on a pre-printed restaurant sheet they gave us, we also found Bumpers Grill and Bar, which claimed to have "The best of 1940's glamour and style."  More importantly, when I phoned I learned they had a special that night for a barbecued rib dinner along with a pint of any draft beer for $15.  While the shopping center location wasn't too impressive, the restaurant was true to billing and pretty nice inside, while not at all stuffy. 



Sacramento River view from Joe's

Both the food and Black Butte Porter were delicious.  The service was also outstanding, with several waitresses rotating through to take the order, bring drinks and clear the table.

We didn't need to sleep in late to feel fully refreshed and reinvigorated after a leisurely meal, so after a delicious complimentary breakfast, we hit the road before 9 AM,

 

Our plan to drive straight through to L.A. from there was diverted right after Julie took the wheel in California.  There was a stalled vehicle on the freeway that detoured us to a side road that snaked slowly into Yreka, where a four way stop sign apparently caused a backup of several miles. As we passed remote houses dotted sporadically in isolated, barren canyons on this blazing hot day, I couldn't help wondering how their residents had chosen this place, out of everywhere in the world, to live in the first place, much less continue to stay, although a certain number of ramshackle properties looked totally abandoned to the elements.  When we reached Yrecka, we found a cop directing traffic through the intersection, but we had been delayed at least an hour or two.



Old Sacramento by night can be lovely

As we approached Sacramento around 7 PM, we decided we didn't feel like pushing it all the way home, so we stopped at a hotel adjacent to Old Sacramento and walked into the 19th century town center by the river where we had dinner and a drink at Joe's Crab Shack, watching boats meander past the lit bridge.

Sacramento still isn't that close to Redondo Beach, but after a good night's sleep, we made it home by afternoon the next day.