Road to the Sun

Montana is so universally beautiful that it has places you've never heard of that are so remarkable that any other state would send platoons of congressmen to lobby for them to be national parks. Instead, Montana contents itself with only one park, Glacier, and it is a treasure.

Unfortunately, the night we arrived, a threatening sky began releasing large drops of rain, just as Nicole had just put the finishing touches on a vat of corn chowder. We hustled into our tent with books, and were happy until we noticed that it wasn't only raining outside. Years of service and abuse had rendered our tent no longer waterproof. We watched with some interest, perched in the middle of our air mattress, as the water level rose up around us. We grabbed buckets and tried to bail ourselves out, but it was no use. Finally, the captain of our ship—Nicole—declared it was time to head for the boats. We rented a cabin for the night.

The rain, wind, and cold continued for the next three days. Luckily, Glacier is eminently drivable. Its chief visual feature is not, incidentally, glaciers, which are mighty scarce in those parts. I'm reliably informed by a conservative friend of mine that global warming is a hoax perpetrated by enviro-fascists. I tried to explain that to the one shrunken glacier that we did see, but it wouldn't listen to reason. Instead, we had to content ourselves with the brilliant aquamarine water of the glacial lakes they had left behind.

The chief thing you must do in Glacier is the Going-to-the-Sun Road. Montana is not a state to name places with such odd names. Its towns, valleys, and mountains are largely named after people—men, mostly explorers, businessmen, or members of the Jefferson administration. But how else could you commemorate something like that? Going to the Sun is about as good as you can do.

It is, of course, hard to describe physical beauty—the rough slate mountains, the blue green lakes, the torrential rivers cleaving gorges through the rock, the brave little road clinging to the side of the mountains—but you must see Glacier before you die. Only do it in August. It's very cold in June.

Apologies for the photo, which was taken in a freezing rain. Hopefully it gets the point across.