Polson, Montana KOA (Leaving)
I had mentioned I had been observing people. If I am to be a writer, I will need characters and I will want them to be real. I am an observer. I have heard many people say they like to "people watch" at fairs or lakes or malls. I wonder if I am doing something wrong by making notes about people watching. I know on a few trails I have hiked it seemed to make people a little curious and nervous to see me making notes as I encounter them.
The road to my destination after the Polson KOA was full of twists and turns as the GPS map for Trip 24 will attest. I have not seen many people camping by themselves on my trip. In fact I usually get a little strange look when I register as one person. The night before I left the Polson KOA I noticed two separate people camping by themselves. I cannot recall another person camping by themselves in my many days of camping, unless I count the Ranger in Tennis Shoes which I think was a special case.
The first person I spotted was a female, late 30s, blond short hair wearing a light green dress that kind of caught my eye as she set up camp in what is known as a "Tent Village." Basically it is 5 triangular tent sites arranged in a circle around a circular log structure. There are log fences about 6 feet high between the tent sites like spokes on a wheel. The sites cost $3 more than a regular tent site. I am not sure if the expectation is that you would get more privacy in such a site, but as you will see from my story you probably don't. Also, I feel putting walls between people just makes them talk louder, so I doubt the feeling of intrusion would be lessened.
The female in question (lets call her Road Sister for reasons to be explained later) had a tent village site that overlooked the tenting sites. It was about 200 feet in distance and 25 feet in altitude above my site on a hill. My picnic table was pointed right in that direction as I typed up my journal, so how could I not observe. Road sister spent the night doing some paperwork, practicing her guitar (she seemed to be a novice) and reading a book all on a canvas chair similar to my own. She had an average four door sedan and a single tent which she put a blue tarp under, again similar to my own.
The similarities to my own situation interested me. I wondered about approaching her, but knew this was absurd. I am not anyone to approach any body. Also, I am on a mission to solitude and am not here to meet anyone. Also, if her situation were similar to mine, isn't it likely she would not be interested in meeting anyone either. I can't imagine anyone from New York (I saw her license plates later) would be looking to meet someone by camping by themselves in the Polson, Montana KOA. Of course maybe other people are always interested in meeting other people and its just me that seeks solitude.
Enter the second person camping by themselves, lets call him Harry Back. He was the last to arrive for a tent site around 9 pm. He was the only one on the second row of tent sites, the first row being full. His site was about as far away from Road Sister's as mine only to the side and out of my line of site. He had a two-door car and a single tent.
I first saw him when he appeared in front of Road Sister's site apparently returning from the swimming pool in his red Boxer type swim trunks, red ball cap, white towel and hairy back. He was over six feet tall and very attractive I am sure. He nonchalantly stopped on the way back to his site and talked with Road Sister for about 10 minutes. there was a 4-foot high log fence between them as she continued to recline on her canvas chair book in hand.
After he left she quickly got up and got her walkman (similar to mine) out of the car and sat reading with her headphones on the rest of the night. Harry Back returned to his site to don a red towel around his waist to replace his red trunks. He kept his red ball cap and towel on as he did routine tasks around his site surrounded by at least 30 or 40 people who had nowhere to look without him being in the line of sight. Very attractive I am sure. When Road Sister retired, her tent glowed with the light of a flashlight. I assumed she was reading as I had read to the light of a flashlight in my tent every night before I retire. I wondered what were the chances of three individuals camping by themselves choosing that campground that night. I just find it hard to believe that there are many people camping by themselves out there. Maybe its just me.
I awoke around 8 am the next morning to the sound of the resident "happy campers" repeating th phrase "well you all have a good trip" to at least 4 of the tent campers as they vacated their sites. As I exited my tent I looked upto see Road Sister climbing out of hers. It was like looking in a mirror. I was packed up and on my way by 8:20 am noticing that Road Sister had changed into a tank top and shorts with a blue bandana arranged to pull her hair back away from her face and that Hairy Back was pranccing around his campsite in nothing but his red swim trunks and red ball cap. Very attractive I am sure.
I decided to check out the campgrounds along the lake on my way north. It was too early to stop, but I wanted to camp around flathead lake if I could. I was checking out my options. One campground was 4 miles off the road at Lake Mary. I had timed to kill so I checked it out. It was a fishing lake, so not for me. As I waited for the traffic to clear so I could turn back on to highway 93 north, who should drive by but Road Sister.
She was caught behind a slow moving RV, so soon I was close behind her. After we both passed the RV, she was not taking the corners very fast, but I was having trouble passing her because my bike was acting like a dead weight on the hills which was where most of my opportunities to pass came. I was close enough to see her license plate was from new york and she had a small oval shaped bumper sticker that said "Road Sister." Guitar, Road Sister, I figured she was a nun. To make a long story not as long, we traded postions several times as we passed through small towns and I hoped no one thought I was stalking anybody. I headed to White Fish Lake State Park a few miles north of White Fish the city. As I left town I looked in my mirror and she was gone. I was disappointed.
The State Park had a full sign out. I stopped at the Ranger station across the street and got some maps of USFS campgrounds. I decided to head to the Taco John's on the other side of town to decide where to head to next. On the way I must have missed the turn for the highway (probably thinking about Road Sister) and ended up out on an old farm road. I passed over some rough railroad tracks. Then realizing I was headed in the wrong direction, made a u-turn and headed back.
As I passed over the tracks the second time I heard a loud crash and the sound of metal being scraped along the asphalt. It finally happened. My bike rack had fallen off my trunk. I immediately stopped. The rack was still attached to the trunk by a single nylon strap. I had drug it about 5 feet. Another nylon strap had been severed. I quickly disconnected the bike from the car through the bike to the very narrow grassy shoulder, then parked my car on the shoulder across the road.
The final assessment of the damage was one broken strap on the bike rack and a twisted front derailer on the bike. I fixed the derailer with tools form my toolbox and tied the severed ends of the nylon straps together. Within 15 minutes the rack and bike were as good as ever. It was a hot day and just that short amount of time in the sun made me hot and thirsty.
I arrived at taco john's to find 6 fire fighting equipment installers in dirty overalls and suspenders trying to make up their mind on what to order. I headed to the drive thru, sat in the sun for 6 minutes before my order was taken then sat in it again for 15 minutes before it was delivered. I was not having a good day.
I pressed on. The KOA in West Glacier just outside of Glacier National Park wanted $25 for a tent site. After taking a tour to ensure Road Sister was not in any of the sites, I departed. Then Big D hit me a little. No matter how much I claim to be anti-social and looking for solitude there is that little corner of me that wants something else. Oh well, you can't have everything and if I get everything I want but that one thing then I am probably pretty well off. It was nice to at least imagine their was someone out their who may have had empathetic experiences.
I did not enter Glacier Park, but headed back the way I came. I was unsure again. I couldn't go forward, I couldn't go back and I couldn't stay still. I headed down the east side of Hungry Horse Lake where there were supposed to be some USFS campgrounds. After 10 miles of a narrow, rough, bumpy, dusty gravel road that was not doing me, my car or my bike any good, I backtracked again.
It was 2pm. I was tired, hungry, depressed and lonely. I was as down as I had been on the trip. I headed down the west side of hungry horse lake. After 10 miles on a nicely paved road passing over the hungry horse dam, I found a nice little USFS campground for $10. I was having trouble making up my mind whether to take number 5 or 6. Both were right on the lake, neither had very good places to set up a tent and both were well covered.
I decided on 6 and started to unload my bike when two fifth wheelers came along. I had recognized them from earlier. They were trying to find two sites together and had pulled over to let me pass. They looked a little disappointed. "Did I take your site?" I asked. "Yeah, but thats alright." one of the gentlemen replied looking at his shoes. They were looking heavily at 5 and 7 when I told them they could have 6 if it would help. They would not hear of it, but I insisted. I told them I could not make up my mind on which to take anyway. So while I drove around the grounds one of them held site 5 for me.
That is probably the only good deed I have done on this trip. And that not much of a deed. It was a little bit of a sacrifice because the other site had a little better tent area and a little firewood. Anyway, I was feeling better about myself and at least I knew where I would stay the night.