Heading North

I decided to poke around Whitefish a little bit more the next morning.  The front desk clerk recommended the Buffalo Café for breakfast, and I couldn't resist the cinnamon bread french toast.  Very good -- not quite as good as the Blue Water Grill's cinnamon bread French toast in San Pedro, Belize (also get the key lime pie if you go there), but pretty darn tasty all the same!

 

I am going to give Whitefish the unofficial title of Happiest Town in America.  The people were unbelievably laid back and friendly.  Waves and hellos from strangers, extremely courteous hospitality workers who made conversations beyond just a basic greeting, the way motorists and moms with strollers all smiled at each other at crosswalks, and then turned to smile at you too.  The waitress at the café who answered my inquiry with enthusiasm, and backed it up with suggestions from her coworkers and manager in the back.  I think it's the kind of place where you wake up and see the mountains, the lake, the river and trees, some critters roaming about in your quiet town wedged between a world famous ski resort and a world famous national park, .and think "Damn, I've got it all," before happily going about your day. 

And so I chose this little place for my road cappuccino, and was met with more of the same.  I chose it because it is a bike shop, ski shop, with a coffee bar in the corner.  A business plan that totally meets my approval.  I went inside, browsed around, called out a hello, and watched a guy who looked like the stereotypical snowboarder rake leaves and exchange morning greeting to people passing by for about 10 minutes before I wandered back outside and asked if he by any chance was doubling as coffee barrista for the day.  He wasn't, but he found someone downstairs who was, and I had a nice chat with two more happy and friendly residents of Whitefish.  Again, it's a great place, and the cappuccino was just right.  With that, I headed North.  The plan for the day was to cross the US
Border south of Fernie, British Columbia, and stop along some favorite childhood vacation spots as I worked my way back to Alberta to find the giant potatoe I had passed in the dark a few nights earlier, and ultimately get back to Saskatchewan that night.  More on the potatoe later.

The woods on the West side of Glacier park look a little more like Canada to me.  East Glacier was a place of starkness, sharp angles...a harsh rugged beauty.  Somehow things just looked a little softer on the West side of the mountains.  It wasn't far out of Whitefish that I stopped to document the difference...there are gentler slopes, a bit more variety in the grasses (presumably due to being a little less rocky, having a bit richer topsoil?)

 

Just northwest of Whitefish, Montana

A quiet Montana Road

The Stillwater River runs alongside the highway in this area, and there are several lakes around.  I made a U-turn on the highway and backtracked to an absolutely spot called Stillwater Landing.  The only resident at this time of year was a little squirrel, happily munching what I believe is a pine cone.  Isn't he cute?

This little genius of a squirrel has chosen Stillwater Landing as his or her forever home, and this is the view from his or her little pine tree abode every day.  This is a good argument for squirrels and other animals being smarter than humans, because I eventually left and am currently looking out the window at other houses in a small town where my sister lives, while the squirrel is presumably still enjoying this view.

Stillwater Landing

Stillwater Landing again

And so I carried on down the road.  I found another gorgeous glimmering mountain lake by a little place called Trego.  I think the lake is Dickey Lake, but the town is Trego.  Fortunately there was a roadside turnout where I could stop and walk around and get some pictures.

The little path leading from the road to the lake

The reward for walking down the short little path

the blue-green of the lake, and the calm glassy appearance of it was perfect!

I also had to take a picture of this purple rock.  Earlier in the trip I noticed the highways were made of red pebbles, and sure enough there were a lot of red rocks in the area.  I noticed a lot of purple rocks around Trego...but not a purple rock road.

The water was a perfect mirror for the clouds and colorful trees as they donned their fall colors.

 

I loved this house on the lake in Trego.  This guy is clearly at least as smart as a squirrel.