Chapter 4: Sleeping so well in Seattle and mountain goats in Montana
Hello everyone! Wow alrighty, lots to catch up on. I hope you’re all well! I’ve finally found a spot to wifi along the Oregon Coast to upload this very delayed post (more to come on the coast next time!) This one is a bit of a double whammy for ya, in which I cross over to the US of A, explore Seattle and head inland to Glacier National Park to spend a with my friend Shannon, who you’ve already met in previous chapters. But those are enough spoilers! Every day is an adventure right now and I haven’t quite cracked the enigma that is the United States of America, but I’m getting there 😉 Enjoy ☺️ PS. sorry about the photos all being at the end again…
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The ferry crossing from Victoria, Canada to the US was a great guessing game of who was Canadian, and who was from the US. Before boarding, the US customs guy took pleasure in interrogating me (as they always seem to do) but I managed to passed the test. I’m sure that telling them that I’d be studying countering violent extremism when I got home helped prove I wasn’t a terrorist.
On the ferry I met a cycle tourist called Murray who had been to NZ just months before. He kindly showed me the start of the Olympic Discovery Trail as we got off the ferry at Port Angeles, and we rolled onwards setting our own paces. The Trail was gentle and led through flat sections of farmland with the Olympic Ranges providing a beautiful backdrop. I’d kind to get into the Olympic National Park one day, but skirting it would hang to do for now. I managed to pick up some good speed asking the flat, and met some friendly locals on the trail.
Picking up a SIM card in Sequim, I got the friendliest greeting I’d ever received from a salesperson. It was as if I was the first customer of the day — maybe I was. The salesperson warned me about the logging festival in town that day, and that the traffic had been wild. It was hard to believe in this sleepy place, but I took note.
Sure enough, an hour later, I cycled past what could only be the logging festival: a mammoth field filled with forestry-related stalls and a never-ending line up of utes (or trucks, as I’ve learnt they call them here — thanks, James!) In the middle stood two tall cranes, one flying the US flag. Every tall pole seems to have one sticking out the top of it around here. This inspired me to start counting the US flags I saw flying around on people’s front yards, in windows, on cars, to pass the time.
Eventually after a few ups and downs after leaving the Discovery Trail I got to my campground for the night, a very modest patch of grass situated between a stagnant bog and an equally fragrant long drop. It was definitely not worth the $20 USD I paid for it. The dogs in the RV next door were highly annoyed I had arrived but eventually stopped barking.
I had another midnight sound scare outside my tent, but this time it was just the wind. I hope. The morning was another gorgeous one, and I rode off early hoping to get in to the Emerald City as early as possible. There are many Ports and Forts around this area, hinting at the area’s military and maritime past.
I was delighted to learn that bikes ride free on the Bainbridge Island ferry crossing to downtown Seattle. While waiting for the ferry to board, I tried to shelter in the shadow of my bicycle to avoid getting baked by the sun. The perk about having lots of stuff on your panniers is that it creates enough shade! A tandem bike without its riders was also parked up on the dock. The couple whose bike it was soon came over (from an actual shady spot they’d found) and introduced themselves. They were a seasoned cycle tourists who’d cycled around NZ many moons ago and who call Seattle home. I got very caring parental vibes from them. They showered me with suggestions and recommended cycling the Oregon coast. They also said the Golden Circle (a route in Alaska I’ll be doing mid-June) was the best trip they’d ever done. Meeting other cyclists like this couple does reinvigorate me for the next weeks ahead.
It was fun to approach Seattle from the water. The famous skyline punctuated by the Sky Needle inched closer. I could almost smell the Starbucks coffee roasting! Soon we were rolling off the dock, each cyclist onto the next leg of their adventure but most travelling home. Entering downtown Seattle was akin to hitting a sensory wall of noisy roadworks and demanding heat (it was 31 degrees).
Having no plan but to explore the city for the afternoon, I naturally gravitated up towards Capitol Hill, the queer capital of Seattle. Far out though, this city has hills with gradients to rival Wellington! For lunch I got a bagel from a vegan Jewish deli and ate it on a shady lawn and watched the world go by for a bit. Being super sweaty and with Sirocco all packed up next to me, I felt a little out of place, but this is all part of being a cycle tourist. Having your own bike as a mode of transport in different cities is actually amazing because you get to scope out different places’ cycling infrastructure, noticing what works and what doesn’t. Seattle’s bike paths are all up pretty good I’d say, I get the sense that people prioritise bikes and are aware of cyclists around the place.
In the afternoon I made my way over to Mercer Island via the east of the city, to meet Jaymee, my friend Jennifer’s friend, who would kindly host me over the next few days. The beaches were packed and snowy Mt Rainier was massive and clear in the distance. I love the consistent presence of the mountains in the Pacific Northwest (at least when it’s not raining).
Arriving sweaty and tired, Jaymee and her family welcomed me into their most beautiful home. It was fun to meet their pets, Benny the golden retriever and cats Stewart snd Conchita, too. I’m missing Nyla so much that having an animal to cuddle was cathartic. The contrast between my previous beds for the past two weeks (either a blow up mattress in a one-person tent or a dorm bed) and the most comfortable bed at Jaymee’s place could not have been starker. Jaymee and Dave took me out on their boat at the most golden hour, the evening sun’s rays bouncing off the water as we cruised around Mercer Island. I’d stepped into a dreamy oasis and was so ready for a change of scenery and pace.
Over the next few days I would be showered with generosity by Jaymee as I explored the city, planned the next little stretch and prepared the bike for cycling the Oregon coast. Seattle is a great city with plenty of pockets of neighbourhoods to explore so easily on foot or by bike, so there was no shortage of things to see and do.
Without getting in too much detail, here is a list of all the great things I did while in Seattle:
Ate and caffeinated my way around the city. Highlights included ramen, ice cream, donuts, sandwiches and lots of coffee. I did not go to the original Starbucks, but witnessed the line outside. It was one block long on a Monday morning.
Pretended to be a student and needed out about visiting the University of Washington’s campus - the famous cherry blossoms had passed, but the library was like stepping into a 16th century cathedral, such a grand campus.
Time-travelled to various different cultures and places in Seattle Art Museum! So much richness packed into the space.
Cycled through pleasant neighbourhoods like Fremont and Queen Anne, each with their own feel and sweet bookshops
Stocked up on camping food at Trader Joe’s for my upcoming trip to Montana with Shannon. Grocery stores in the US are cultural experiences.
Got my bike tuned up.
It was really hard leaving the comfort of Jaymee’s place, only made better by the fact that I’d return to Seattle next week. Jaymee dropped me off at King Street Station and I was on my way to Montana to meet Shannon. But first, a 16-hour overnight train ride in the coach class. I’d heard the seats are pretty sleep-able so I packed my sleeping bag, ready for a less-than-comfy sleep.
The train to Montana is called the Empire Builder (grand name!) and runs from Seattle to Chicago. The name was explained at one point by the volunteer history guide on the train, who made occasional comments over the loudspeaker about what we were seeing out the window (to the delight of some, and annoyance of other passengers) but I cannot remember the name’s history. To delay (the inevitability of) someone sitting next to me on the train, I lay out a book I’m currently reading called Naked Statistics on my table. It didn’t really work; a nice guy sat next to me and we bonded over having photos of our dogs in our phone lock screens.
The friendly train staff joked with passengers and made sure everyone was comfortable. The dining car attendant, on the other hand, expressed clear favouritism in her loudspeaker announcements about meal times towards the passengers who’d paid exorbitant amounts to stay in private sleeping cars. The cattle class were evidently not welcome in the dining carts. That was okay because I had brought three bags’ worth of Trader Joe’s groceries on board so I didn’t need their overpriced food anyway.
Sleeping on the train was a mixed affair. I managed to get a few hours of solid dream time in there thanks to the comfort of my pillow and sleeping bag, but vaguely remember tossing around about 53 times to find a comfortable spot. Waking up to the hazy Montana mountains was a bit surreal — hazy, because of the huge wildfire smoke from Alberta making its way down to the US. The orange mist soon cleared enough to see the snowy peaks.
I spent the day in East Glacier waiting for Shannon to drive down from Calgary. The quiet town, which could have been the set of a western film, hosted little shade but I managed to find a spot under a tree that would be my headquarters for the day. Thankfully the diner was open, and the table I sat down at had a postcard stuck to it from Clare from NZ who must have worked here in 2001, writing to the staff from home. Seeing this postcard, with a stamp depicting kayakers in Abel Tasman, was just what I needed after feeling a bit homesick.
I probably overstayed my welcome throughout the morning at the diner but the staff there were so hospitable and offered me endless top ups of coffee and water. Desperate to find things to do in East Glacier, I bought some snacks from the gas station and ate my dill pickle-flavoured almonds under Tree HQ and read about linear regression and probability.
Shannon messaged just after 6pm with an issue - the US border had closed at 6pm, despite all signs saying it closed at 11pm, and she was forced to detour to the other border crossing. It would take another few hours, so we decided to find a motel instead of setting up camp in the dark.
The first motel I rocked up at, shout out to Mountain Pine Motel, had one room available — what a relief. Ryan, the host, had inherited this motel from his grandfather and everything about it was so comfortingly old-school. The map of Glacier National Park that he gave me had been created by his grandfather and was printed in this brown ink. Ryan happily shared many tips on which hikes to do around the place, which later Shannon and I would come to be so grateful for.
I settled in and soon after, I heard a car then a knock. Shannon had arrived!!! We gave each other the hugest hug — it had been a year and a half since seeing each other in person (where that time has gone, I don’t know). Both tired after much waiting around in our respective ways, we quickly sunk into the queen beds and re-charged ourselves for the weekend ahead. This was not a tent as we’d planned, but as is a common thing in life, things have a knack for working out. And this bed, I’m not going to lie, was far more comfortable than the air mattress.
Glacier National Park technically ‘fully’ opened the following weekend, along with other National Parks, so our timing in many ways was ideal to get a bit of solitude. I’m learning quickly that the National Park thing is a whole lifestyle here in the US. I imagine people spend their whole summers cruising from one park to the next in their motorhomes. Visiting a National Park also felt like going back in time to the 1970s, or whatever decade brown, yellow and tan were trendy as a colour combo. The wilderness rangers actually wear those wide-brimmed hats and have badges on their sleeves.
Our first day hike was one recommended to us by Ryan: climbing up to Scenic Point at Two Medicine Lake. While our wish to see a bear was not fulfilled, there was still a ridiculous amount of nature to marvel at. Highlights included the mountain peaks (haha), marmots and prairie dogs of all shapes and sizes, chirping and scurrying around (they sound like birds tweeting). We also encountered families of mountain goats, who I share a deep affinity with. A few patches of old snow provided some variation on the track, but largely the snow had melted. The time flew by as Shannon and I chatted away. We hah lots to catch up on, sharing observations of North American culture among the deeper things in life.
At the aptly named Scenic Point (just below it to be precise), panoramic views stretched out to Rising Wolf Mountain, Mount Sinopah and Pummelly Pillars. The valleys between the peaks were largely barren, with few patches of snow yet to melt. Each peak has its own unique shape and stories told by the curvaceous lines etched in the rock walls. We stopped for a peanut butter-smothered bagel at the top. A perfect combination of company, food and scenery. A few people we passed us as we ate, but until that point we felt like the only humans around for miles.
On the way down, we met Meghan, the wilderness ranger who had just moved in this week at Two Medicine. She’s stationed here until September, and it was interesting to hear about what brought her to the park and her love for the outdoors. As one does, we made some connections — she had looked into walking Te Araroa and knew of someone who I’d walked a bit of TA with and makes incredible videos of her thru-hikes.
Back at the car park, we drove towards the lake and walked to an area that is known for its beavers and moose. No beavers, but thanks to the heads-up of people returning the other way, we spotted a moose munching away behind a bush. We stopped for a bit and hoped to get a better glimpse. When the middle-sized moose moved on to the next bush, we could see her very moose-shaped head. Shannon and I silently awed over her. Not wanting to risk any close encounters we calmly backed away. It was a magical experience. Encounters with wildlife like moose only highlight further out guest status in places like these. This is their home.
Two Medicine Lake was divine, if not utterly freezing when we dipped our toes in. It makes sense in a place with the name Glacier in it. The guy next to us casually submerged his body into the lake as if he was sliding into a tropical ocean. Some of us have different tolerances for the cold, I guess.
That afternoon, we drove around to the other side of the park and popped into the visitor centre. Shannon and I both made a note to come back and pick up some sentiments to remember the trip by: a new patch for my bag, and stickers for Shannon. We set up camp beneath some tall trees in Apgar campground, one of the park’s largest campgrounds. It was way busier here! Thankfully, setting up Shannon’s new 6-person tent went smoothly, not broken tent poles (a tragedy we’ve both experienced on separate accounts). It was spacious for the two of us, but 6 people might be a squish. Thanks for the luxury of space, Shannon!
The walk up to Avalanche Lake the next day was varied and expectedly beautiful, although busier than the day before. A thundering waterfall that had carved out curves in the rocks over millenia marked the start of the climb. Just standing next to the river, we could feel the glacial ice on our skin like a cool breeze. As refreshing as it looked, I was grateful to be on the land and not white water rafting down those rapids.
Avalanche lake itself was like walking into a magical basin surrounded by slopes of unbelievable gradients. Some still had snow on them, but we were surprised at the general lack of it this early in the season. Seeking out a good snack spot, we walked to the other end of the lake and braved wading through the glacial waters to get to a rocky beach. The combination of numbing water and sharp rocks under our feet made for a painful trip but e e agreed that it was worth it in the end, to sit at the mouth of the meeting of snow melt and lake.
On the way back, I wanted to play Shannon some music in the car from my Spotify to share some of the things I’d been listening to lately. The only music that was downloaded for some reason was Now That’s What I Call Music 18, which is a playlist of hits from 2006. If you know, you know. The Black Eyed Peas and Gwen Stefani would have to do, and provided some entertainment for a while.
The main road that goes through Glacier NP was still closed in the middle due to snow and construction, meaning that our access to the park was quite limited. Despite this, we got an enticing taste of this wonderland and I would love to get back some day to go on some backcountry adventures here. Shannon wisely picked up an annual national parks pass to spend more time in the US’s other 62 parks.
The weekend went by way too quickly, Shannon and I agreed, as we said bye to each other. The farewell was made easier knowing we’d see each other in 6 weeks in the Rockies for more camping fun, so that made things easier. Shannon, if you’re reading, this was a truly memorable adventure and I can’t wait to visit the other 62 National Parks with you!
