Many Glacier to Two Medicine

Before sleeping with grizzlies, we bundle up for what we think will be an easy bike ride along Lake Sherburne and past the Many Glacier Hotel (below), a historic lodge built by the Great Northern Railway in 1915 to promote tourism along its tracks.

Riding alongside the Rocky Mountains is an awesome experience and it still seems surreal to be in this remote, harshly beautiful place.

The sun shines and it looks like the storm clouds float behind us—until they are directly overhead, blowing rain and wind.

We ride down a 5 percent grade and gales hold us at dead stop. Wind burns our faces and rain pelts our cold bodies. The big-horn sheep and mountain goats miles above us don't seem to mind. Other tourists share their binoculars, and one, motioning to our bikes, says, "that's how I'd like to see the Rockies, but my wife won't go for it." This makes me feel hard-core and for a moment I forget I can't feel my fingers. But I quickly remember as we ride back to camp where Patrick builds a fire and we thaw out before having a DVD night in the covered truck bed.

It's cramped quarters—the tent now seems spacious–and cold, and Ophie sleeping in the middle means we're both sleeping at curved diagonals. Forget never having to say you're sorry, love means camping in the back of a truck with a 70-pound dog. We do still love each other in the morning.

It's sunny and slightly warmer in the morning, Sept. 7, so we hike the Swiftcurrent Nature Trail, an easy 2.6 mile loop around the lake that winds through 400-year-old spruce-fir forest and 60-year-old lodgepole pine, planted in the aftermath of a great fire in 1936 (where we see two deer in the first five minutes), and about 1.5 miles up the Swiftcurrent and Josephine Lakes hike (below) before turning around and heading back to the truck (and we finally see a grizzly, rooting around in the dirt, on the road out of Many Glacier).

We drive east, out Highway 464 through the Blackfeet Indian Reservation to Browning, stopping at the Museum of the Plains Indian that showcases historic art of native Americans of the Northern Plains.

It's dry and warmer east of the Rockies, but the endless plains make me feel trapped and anxious to return to the land of lakes and river and mountains to the west.

It's our last day camping in Glacier and we stay at Two Medicine campground where it's quiet and peaceful, finally enjoying a real campfire night. I cook food—angel hair pasta with olive oil and parmesan and a salad—while Patrick tosses a tennis ball to Ophie who runs off-leash once the rangers leave for the night. We eat dinner and drink Rainier beer (because an 18-pack is cheaper than a 6-pack of Mirror Pond and it lasts us all week), and play guitar and sing around the campfire. Ophie sleeps in the dirt near the fire pit. Stars shine brightly overhead. Every night should be like this.

On the way out of Glacier to Yellowstone, we stop by Running Eagle Falls, named after a Blackfeet woman who went on a spirit quest near the falls and received a vision and the power to be a great warrior, leading many successful war parties before being killed in battle, clubbed from behind and buried at upper Two Medicine Lake.

Originally named Trick Falls—in the spring the water rushes over the upper fall, completely hiding the lower fall while later, in the summer and fall, the flow decreases and the water seems to move only out of the lower fall—this site holds religious significance for local Blackfeet tribal members.

Goodbye, Glacier. We will miss you and think of you often.