Lethbridge Viaduct, Second Attempt, 13-15 Jun 2023

Vimy Peak

On Tuesday, I awoke around 7:30, having slept better than I anticipated. I made a quick tour of the town and found that most cafés did not open until 9. I checked out of the motel and inquired about reserving a room for the return trip without committing fully. That would be okay, given that the trail closures meant they were unlikely to be turning away guests. I assured the clerk that I would call by noon the following day to confirm whether or not I'd be taking the room.

Mt. Crandell, Bertha Peak

There was a light wind out of the southwest, so I made very good time. I stopped in Mountain View for a hot breakfast and then rode on. By 10am, I was in Cardston -- about halfway there. It was starting to get hot, with the high predicted to be around 30C. 

I bought a sandwich at the Subway store there to serve as my lunch. With stops, I was averaging about 25kph. I stopped at the intersection -- not much of a town -- that defines Spring Coulee and ate the first half of my sandwich, then rode on to Magrath and ate the second half. I stopped at the only café in Welling, and asked to have my water bottles refilled. I continued north all the way to Lethbridge, arriving about 1:30 in the afternoon.

Waterton Park

Sofa Mountain

Checkin for the B&B did not start before 3, so I had some time to kill. I rode to the center of town to look for views of the famous viaduct. Whether of the viaduct or merely the river valley below, views also seem to be popular with condo developers. The best view of the bridge from the rim of the canyon is obscured by a recently-built condo complex, so I dropped down into the canyon to find my best view along the length of the bridge.

Lethbridge Viaduct

There is a parking lot and trail about halfway down. I stopped and climbed to the top of the bluff, and got some decent views. Then I rode down to the bottom of the canyon and turned north toward the Nature Center. There were signs for a water fountain, but I found it was not turned on. At that moment, I heard a freight train approaching from the east, so I prepared to take pictures of it as it crossed the bridge.

The bridge rises 96m above the river bottom; the span is just over a mile long. My hosts said that when they first moved to Lethbridge, the longest trains would take up only about a third of the span. Modern trains will stretch from one end to the other. But clearly, the periodic design of the bridge means that if it can support the load across one tower, it can support similar loads across the entire span. There is a single suspended span toward the west end of the bridge that is slightly longer than any of the others (33m vs. 30m). But clearly that is still within the bridge's margin of safety.

I refilled my water bottles in the Nature Center and then headed off on the paths toward the river. I wanted to get right under the bridge to study the steelwork. The cross-bracing uses open-lattice fabricated box girders, to provide the necessary rigidity with less weight than a solid-faced girder. It's appearance is reminiscent of the steelwork in the Eiffel Tower.

The cross-bracing at the base of the tower closest to the river on the east bank is only 1m above ground level. This made it convenient for me to climb on it and walk to the joining plate at the center of the tower. I had removed my biker shoes and socks for better traction, but that meant that I had to choose my footsteps carefully: The rusty metal had been baking in the hot afternoon sun, so I could only step on the parts that had recently been in shadow.

After photographing the bridge from various angles, I made my way out of the valley and went toward the B&B via Scenic Drive (along the edge of the canyon). I found a few more good views of the bridge along that route. I had promised to check in at 5pm, but arrived at the B&B around 4:30. Just as I dismounted and started walking toward the front door, the hostess drove up and introduced herself.

The hosts conduct a tour group, and have a stead influx of guests through that connection. It does not particularly matter to them that Google Maps refuses to show their establishment (or any B&B in Lethbridge in fact). They were nice enough to wash one set of my clothes, so I would have a clean set to wear for dinner. And while that was going on, I had a long discussion with the hostess and her other guest on what I had seen in Waterton Park, the prospects for the weather, and what they were going to do with their tour group the following day. After dinner, I learned more from the host about their history in Lethbridge. I could have stayed at a motel for half the money, but I was much more comfortable as a guest in their house. Again, I slept very well.

Chief Mountain and Rain Clouds

Rain was predicted for later in the day on Wednesday, so I requested an early breakfast. Enid prepared a fine breakfast of eggs and toast, and sent me on my way by 7. It had rained during the night, so the pavement was wet, and it sprinkled a bit as a I got under way. I was happy that I'd taken the trouble to put the fenders on my touring bike.

Rain in Waterton Park

There was a steady breeze blowing from the southwest (as usual, I suppose). That wasn't much of a problem as far as Welling. But there, AB 5 turns westward so I was riding right into the eye of the wind. After 5 gruelling hours, I reached Cardston. As I rode along, I could see that the bowl containing the Waterton Park Village was filled with clouds. It looked very dark and foreboding all day. Thus, I had already concluded by the time I reached Cardston that I did not want to return to Waterton Park. The fatigue of the long trip was also beginning to tell on me; I did not relish the thought of traversing the International Peace Parkway going the other way. It would be enough for me to return to St. Mary and find lodgings for the night there.

Still an hour before reaching Cardston, I phoned the clerk back in the Bear Mountain Motel to say that I would not be returning. After getting lunch there, I headed south. As I approached Chief Mountain, I kept expecting that the terrain would cause the wind to curve around toward the south and become a following wind, but it never did. It was pretty tough going all day long. Four more hours brought me to Babb; it took most of another hour to crank out the last 8 miles to St. Mary.

New Snow in Glacier Park

I got started again before 8 the following morning. I arrived for breakfast at the St. Mary Village Lodge, just as they were opening for business. I had the veggie omelette and then started up the long grade climbing out the the St. Mary River valley. As I climbed up the ridge along Divide Creek, I stopped several times to take pictures of the new snow on the high peaks. It was quite chilly leaving St. Mary, so I was happy that I had packed an insulated jacket and my full-fingered gloves.

Lower St. Mary Lake

Close to the top of the ridge, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, that looked like an animated teddy bear. It was running back and forth, trying desperately to find a gap in the pine scrub on the far side of the ditch, so it could escape from me. It was hard to make out what kind of animal it was, since it was down in the ditch; I had mostly a top view of the creature. It had short, fluffy fur that was almost a chocolate brown, but it also had white paws that looked enormous relative to its size. At that moment, I concluded that I was getting a close-up view of a wild Canadian Lynx. It finally found a gap in the bushes and disappeared.

There were a few sprinkles in the morning, and I had no idea how much rain had fallen south of St. Mary. Given that heavy rains had caused landslides on MT 49 the preceding weekend, more rain might have closed the road again. Heading back, with plenty of time to make my train, I had already concluded that if MT 49 were closed I would play it safe and take the long way back through Browning.

As it turned out, the road over Looking Glass Hill was open when I arrived. Just the same, I decided to go by way of Browning. I might be able to buy a pair of Tevas to enable a hike near East Glacier while waiting for the train, and I could buy some provisions at less-than-resort prices. 

I arrived in Browning before noon. At the Trading Post, I found a style of sandal that I liked, but they did not have it in my size. I visited the grocery store and got some beer for later. I decided there that it would be cheaper to buy a sandwich at Subway than to build my own (no good bread, anyway).

The trestle over Two Medicine River

Again, there was a pretty stiff breeze out of the west, but I had all afternoon and part of the evening to make it to East Glacier. I made good time over the last 10 miles, and ducked below the new highway bridge over Two Medicine River, to see if I could catch sight of freight train going over the trestle there. Sure enough, one came by after 20 minutes or so. Then, I continued on to East Glacier.

Arriving there, I decided to stay close to the station and wait for the train. I went to my favorite spot near Midvale Creek, drank beer and read my history book.

The train was delayed nearly an hour into East Glacier. By the time I boarded the train, they had only one opening left in the dining car. Therefore, I missed getting dinner on the train, which was a disappointment. However, the rest of the trip home went as planned.

Lethbridge Viaduct, Second Attempt, 11-12 Jun 2023

Having failed to reach my objective last September, it was an easy choice where to plan my first (and probably only) long bike ride for this year. This time, I had the luxury of an entire week to spend riding, if I so desired. This made it possible to stop in the Waterton Lakes Park on the way, and trim the aggressive 120 miles per day to a more manageable 80.

My initial plan was to stop at the Waterton Park Village after my first and third days riding, spending the second night in Lethbridge. I found that train fares were going to be cheaper if I left on Sunday, with the added bonus that going through Portland on the outbound leg would save me $50. I was happy to accept, so I could have the experience of riding the train up the Columbia River valley.

For my night in Lethbridge, I ended up booking a room at Enid's Bed and Breakfast -- the place I had had to cancel on my ill-fated trip last fall. I left open my lodgings for the return, considering a number of factors that might prevent me from staying in the same place on Wednesday night. Foremost of these was my biking fortitude, since I have been biking less during the past year than I would have. Concern for how Clifford would handle being left alone made me work from home most of the time.

With that all set, it was finally time to pour the sealant into the new tubeless tires I'd put on my touring bike. I wanted to ride on them for a couple of days to prove their road-worthiness, before taking them on the planned 320-mile ride. Checking the weather, I also found that rain was predicted during the week of my ride, so I spent a good part of Saturday the 10th moving the fenders over from my winter bike. I also packed extra clothing to ensure that I could stay warm in wet mountain weather. This caused my load to spill over from the usual trunk-only configuration to trunk-plus-backpack.

When I bought my train ticket, I was told that I would need to put my bike in a box and send it along as checked baggage. That later turned out to be untrue, but a condition that could not be counted on. I was given to understand that the Coast Starlight would not have a baggage car containing bike racks, and that was true up to a point. The National Park volunteer on board informed me that Amtrak has been experimenting with omitting the baggage car on some trains, using a lower compartment to store baggage instead. In the end, the train filled up to the point that they needed a baggage car anyway.

The Coast Starlight

Before boarding, I was assigned a seat. I could have figured that Seat 3 -- being neither 0 nor 1 modulo 4 -- was not a window seat, and asked for a different one. But that thought occurred to me to late to act upon it. No matter: As soon as the train was under way, I moved to the lounge car and stayed there for the trip to Portland.

In the lounge car, I sat across from a National Park Service volunteer, who was providing the Rails and Trails presentation that day. In addition to learning from him about the baggage car experiments, I also found out that two of the 3 people who had been killed in the DuPont Amtrak crash in 2017 had been good friends of his.

I was joined some grad students attending Berkeley who were traveling together.  The young man is studying Chemistry and the young lady English Literature (IIRC). They were riding the train down to Oakland, for the experience (their first time), so I indicated points of interest along the way, and also told them what to expect continuing south from Portland.

I met the National Park Service volunteer again, as I waited to photograph the Coast Starlight leaving the station. He told me that there were Navy ships tied up along the waterfront and gave directions on how to reach there. I went to see what I could see, but found it was not that exciting.

I had initially thought about spending my layover in Portland looking for takeout food that I could use for dinner on the train. But just before leaving home, I made two large sandwiches to use up some bread, so that concern was covered. Instead, I decided to visit a bike shop and see if I could buy some booties for my cleats, to make it easier to walk around -- on the train and later. I hiked first along the waterfront and then into the center of Portland, to a Trek bicycle shop.

Coast Starlight leaving Portland

They didn't have the booties I described. (Yes, for other kinds of cleats, but not for mine.) So I requested a junk inner tube that I could cut up and use to improvise a solution. After leaving the shop, I did just that, but my first attempt survived only a few blocks, Back at the train station, I came up with an alternate design. One of my makeshift booties lasted for most of the train ride out to East Glacier; what remained of it went into the trash there (along with the rest of the tube).

Lift Bridge across the Willamette River

About 20 minutes before the train was due to depart, I went into the station and found that boarding had not yet started. I concluded that the one agent at the desk was the only staff allocated to the tasks of issuing or changing tickets at the last minute, and of overseeing the boarding process. Signs indicated that the ticket desk closes 10 minutes ahead of departure, so I had a pretty good idea when boarding would start. 

 

Mount Hood

A number of people had started to congregate near the boarding door, and I found myself near the front of the line. It turned out to be open seating, so I had my pick. I determined that the best views would be from the left side of the train, so there I sat -- in the last row of seats in that car.At the start of the trip from Portland eastward, the train backtracks north to Vancouver WA. It then heads up to Columbia River on the north bank. The National Park Service guide said that there used to be a train called the Pioneer, that ran along the south bank, but that train has been discontinued.

Vista House at Crown Point

Multnomah Falls

Starting eastward, there were views of Mount Hood, which I tried to catch out of the train window. I also knew to expect views of the Vista House at Crown Point, and of Multnomah Falls on the south bank. The train kept moving through stands of trees, so it was hard to get a clear view. I ended up taking many shots, randomly timed, and then deleting the ones that contained just foliage whisking past the train windows.

Bridge of the Gods

 Between the bridge at Cascade Locks and Hood River, we overtook a freight train on the opposite bank. At Hood River, there was a nice view of Mount Hood that I was able to capture. As we passed close by Miller Island, I though its terrain and vegetation representative of the general surroundings.

I had expected the train to continue east along the Snake River after passing through Pasco. That would have taken us up the Palouse River valley next to Palouse Falls. Instead, the train headed north out of Pasco, roughly following the route of US 395. That route is relatively boring, and it was getting dark as well. 

After the train joined with with the segment coming from Seattle, the seat next to me remained empty. I able to snooze a bit, and finally woke at dawn as we were approaching the Flathead Tunnel.

As soon as it was open, I visited the cafe and bought coffee. A short time later, the diner car opened, so I went there for breakfast. I was seated with an elderly couple from New Orleans, who told me of their adventures touring the country by motorcycle. The breakfast quesadilla I was served was very large, so I said to myself that it would serve for both breakfast and lunch.

As we breakfasted, the train came to a stop. On the intercom, the train crew announced that a freight train had reported some rough track in the tunnel. They were waiting for an inspection car to come up from Whitefish and make sure it was safe to proceed. We concluded that we would sit there for about 2 hours.

The delay was only about an hour and a half, and the train pulled into East Glacier a little after 11. After I got the bike assembled, the station was already closed up, so I went across to the Glacier Park Lodge to fill up my water bottles. The weather was beautiful, with a clear blue sky and a light breeze and a temperature in the high 60s.

MT 49 at Jct. US 89

Just past the turnoff for Two Medicine Lake, MT 49 had a Road Closed sign and Jersey barriers across the road way. At that point, I was already almost 2 hours behind -- with the amount of time it had taken me to assembly my bike -- and concerned about arriving in Waterton Lakes while the motel office was still open, I really didn't want to make the 40-mile detour -- backtracking to East Glacier and then riding east to pick up US 89 in Browning.

So, I passed the barriers and went on. I was familiar with Looking Glass Road from previous trips. On the north slope, there are many places where the road cuts into a rock face. I figured that there were some rock slides that had closed the roadway, but figured that I could pick my way among the boulders -- carrying my bike if I had to.

About a mile up the road, I was passed by a front-loader and then by a backhoe. I looked inquiringly at the drivers as they passed, hoping that they would stop and tell me about the conditions that lay ahead (especially if there was a place that would have been impassible. But the drivers just smiled and drove on by. I took that to be a good sign, but I still had concerns that the bridge near Kiowa might be washed out. There was nothing to do but press on.

When I got to the exposed rock faces, I could see where the heavy machinery had been at work clearing fallen rocks off the roadway. The evidence suggested that they'd had heavy rains in the area recently, and that had caused some minor landslides. There were half a dozen places where the road had been cleared.

I used the brakes almost constantly on the downgrade -- regulating my speed in case I should come across some debris that had not yet been cleared. But I finally was able to conclude that the two machines were on their way back to the shops, having just completed their work a short time before I arrived. The "bridge" that I had recalled being on the road just before the junction with US 89 turned out to be just a cattle guard. That put me 14 miles closer to my destination shortly after noon. I took a picture of the barricades at the junction, to prove that I'd successfully navigated the closed roadway.

As I made my way northward, I remembered going that way with Brian in 2018. I recall that we walked a lot -- including on sections where the new alignment had not yet been paved. Still, it seemed like a longer distance than I recalled. My estimation of Brian's stamina went up by a notch or two. It is true that the new alignment has steeper slopes to reach St. Mary with a shorter roadway. But since a biker has limited output power, the travel time is about the same. (My first trip that way was on the old alignment, except for a section they had regraded just north of the junction with MT 49.)

I stopped only briefly in St. Mary, and continued on to Babb. There, I stopped at the general store and asked to have my water bottles filled. Continuing on, there was a slight breeze from the west, but it was not enough to impede my progress.

Turning on to MT 17, I stopped to hydrate and apply sunscreen. I was heading right into the afternoon sun, and the temperature had climbed into the 70s. MT 17 "the International Peace Parkway" does quite a bit of climbing. I was feeling the altitude as well as the heat as I made my way toward the border. I was still concerned about arriving in Waterton Park early enough to get dinner, so I was pushing myself a bit. In a few spots, as I crested a hill, I started hyperventilating from exhaustion. I had to stop and get off my bike on the downgrade to make sure I didn't faint.

The last mile to the border is a steep downhill, so I coasted up to the Border Station. I presented my Nexus card, but there was something wrong with it. So the border agent asked me to go inside so she could figure it out. Eventually, she found that the card had never been activated (though I'm almost sure I performed that step). I refilled my water bottles and went on.

The next couple miles are also a steep downgrade, which restored some of my strength. After following the Belly River for a few miles, the road (now AB 6) climbs over a ridge and drops down into the Waterton River Valley. Passing into the Park, a sign indicated that I had only 9.9km to go. "I can do this." The ranger mentioned that all of the hiking trails in the park were closed, since heavy rains over the weekend had caused extensive landslides. This confirmed my observation that it had rained a lot recently.

I checked into the motel, found a cafe and had my dinner and then returned to the motel. I slept until 7 the next morning.

Lethbridge Viaduct, First Attempt, Sep 2022

Last year, studying the bridges in England that we might visit on our Graduation Tour, my interest was renewed in visiting the Lethbridge Viaduct, which spans the Old Man River [no kidding] Valley near Lethbridge AB.

That was the impetus for the trip which I took last Labor Day weekend, but it turned out that I never got to see the bridge. By the time I made plans, the train outbound to Glacier Park was booked solid on Friday, so I delayed my plans one day and booked a ticket leaving Saturday the 3rd and returning Monday the 5th. 

The plan was to ride my bicycle from East Glacier Park via the shortest route north to Lethbridge, stay the night there and return the following day by the same route. The route via MT 444 and 213 to Del Bonita and points north is around 120 miles, but nearly flat. Certainly an achievable goal, I thought.

At the time, COVID restrictions were still in effect. It was necessary to register in advance and give proof of vaccination to cross into Canada. I went to the Canadian Border Services website, noted that the Del Bonita crossing was open from 9am to 5pm, and dutifully registered to cross at 1:30p on Sunday. Reservation in-hand, I felt no need to obtain further confirmation that I could cross the border at that time. I made a reservation at a B&B in Lethbridge and tuned up my bike for the trip.

Saturday afternoon, I stopped at Island Books and found some reading material for the trip: 1776. It was fascinating reading, but I didn't get to read much of it on the way out. The train was packed leaving Seattle, so I did not get a window seat. I had hoped to dine on the train, but it was announced that the dining car was open only to people with sleeping car accommodations. The mini cafe offerings were unattractive, so I had cookie instead. 

After the trained was joined with its other half in Spokane, I left my snoring seatmate and moved up to the lounge car. Almost as soon as I had cracked the cover on my book, a very talkative letter carrier sat at my table and proceeded to bend my ear for close to 3 hours. It was fairly clear that he did not want to or could not sleep, and this was his method for passing the time.

Somewhere past Sandpoint, he retreated, I read a bit and then slept student-style: head down on my crossed arms, sitting at the table. A bit later, I managed to wedge myself into one of the lounge seats, and awoke at down as we were hurtling downgrade toward Whitefish.

The train arrived on time at East Glacier Park. After filling my water bottles, I stashed the book on top of the display case at the station. I didn't want to carry the extra weight, and didn't anticipate needing it. Then I headed east on a section of Highway 2 I had not previously explored.

The segment of US 2 that goes around the south end of Glacier National Park has a shoulder that is only a foot or two wide for most of the way. That makes it very unpleasant for a cyclist as vehicles with trailers are whizzing by at 70mph. East of Glacier Park, the highway has a 6' to 8' should, so it is much more pleasant riding. 

That morning (the 4th) there was a stiff breeze out of the west, so I covered the distance from the Amtrak station to the junction with MT 444 in a little over an hour. There, it became crosswind. It would have been more pleasant with no wind, but the side wind did not much impede my progress. What it certainly did was to dehydrate me rapidly. It was very pleasant weather -- sunny and between 70F and 80F, and very dry.

My first disappointment came as a crested a hill and found that the road which appeared paved on Google Maps was in fact a gravel road. Although a recommended bicycle route, there's an 8 mile section with no asphalt. I gritted my teeth against the possibility of striking a large stone and giving myself a pinch flat, and continued north. I tried to hitch a ride from the one vehicle that passed me on that section, but the driver of the pickup declined.

So I made it to the junction with MT 213 without losing any tubes. Back on the pavement, I went another 4 miles and then stopped in the shade of an irrigation shed for lunch. I used the last of my water, but figured I could refill when I reached the border.

At the top of the next rise, I could see the border crossing in the distance. There was very little traffic on the road, and two of the vehicles that had passed me going north, had also passed going the other way. I did not think much about that until later. 

When I got to the border on the US side, I was surprised to find that the gates were closed. I went up to the customs house to inquire (and also to fill my water bottles) and found it locked and vacant. At least there was a cellphone signal there, so I checked on Google and found that the border station is open from 9 to 5 indeed, but on weekdays only. I would say it thwarts the imagination that one can hold a reservation to cross the border at a time when the border is not open, but I work enough with software that not much imagination is required.

At that point, there wasn't much to be done about it: I had to turn around. I texted ahead to the B&B, to let them know I would not be showing up. The border was closed and it was out of the question for me to make the 80 mile detour and show up the same day.

My water bottles were empty and I needed to solve that before heading back. I couldn't find a person to talk to. I rang the bell at a nearby residence and noone answered. I went to what I thought was the Lion's Club Lodge, and rang the bell there, too. After a minute had passed, I filled my bottles at the hose bib, whereupon someone appeared and groused at me for taking water without permission. (It wasn't the Lion's Club Lodge after all -- only the placement of the Lion's sign was somewhat misleading.)

I stopped again at a large farm 10 miles down the road, to hydro-load and refill my water bottles. The farmer was in good spirits, being able to take advantage of the dry weather to harvest his barley, peas and soybeans. (I had passed two combines while heading north, and was passed by several semis laden with grain -- probably all part of his operation covering some 8 to 10 square miles at the headwaters of the Milk River.) I was in good spirits too, since I had enough water to get me back to Cut Bank (my next goal).

I pushed myself pretty hard, so that I could get to Cut Bank before the next westbound train. I didn't know the exact time it came through, but I wanted enough time to change my ticket and persuade the folks there to take my bike on board even though Cut Bank is not a normal baggage stop.

The breeze from the west continued throughout the day. It was somewhat behind me as I rode east on MT 213, but when that road turned directly south, it was more in my face. It was pretty tough going on that north-south section. Along that section, grasshoppers were bouncing off of my legs and tires the whole way. I was amused to note that the road to Cut Bank was paved with four parallel yellowish-green stripes on top of the black asphalt.

Because I was pushing hard, my left knee started to hurt. I also ran out of water again, about 10 miles north of Cut Bank. I was close to tears when I pulled up to a house in the outskirts and rang the bell. When I explained my need for water, the fellow inside brought out two quart bottles offered me seltzer as well. As I rested and rehydrated, I found that he worked in the shops for BNSF. He had lived in Monroe until it got too expensive to live there. He'd recently moved to Cut Bank with his family. I gave him $20 for the water and rode on.

When I got to the Cut Bank station, I could barely walk let alone ride. My left knee hurt a great deal. I sat on the bench in the station and that did not improve matters. After a bit, I called up Amtrak and finally got to talk to an agent. I explained that for medical reasons (as in, hardly being able to walk) I wished to load my bike on the train at Cut Bank rather than at East Glacier. My petition was declined.

I got back on the bike to look around for some food. Riding around Cut Bank, I found that my knee felt better on the bike than off. Failing to find any open restaurants, I returned to the station. I called Amtrak back and found that the train was running 5 hours late. It would reach East Glacier Park some time after midnight. So I thought: 6 hours? 60 miles? I might just make it.

I pointed the bike west on Highway 2, and headed toward East Glacier. I passed a mini mart as I headed west, and immediately regretted that. I might have stopped there to buy some food. But I did have a train to catch.

An hour later, I tried to turn on my headlamp and found further cause to regret not having stopped at the mini-mart. Although I had checked its function before leaving home, the headlamp now refused to turn on. I would be riding in the dark in another hour. So I kept on. 

Before I left Cut Bank, the wind had dropped to near zero, so I made good time heading west. I stopped to record the sunset at the end of that late summer day.

After the sun set, I noticed there was a waxing moon. It would provide some light as I went along. I was worried about debris on the shoulder, and in some places the moonlight let me see large items before running over them.

Just before reaching Browning, however, I ran over some large piece of metal and got a flat in my front tire. After replacing the tube and rolling into Browning, it was after 11. I checked and found that the train had been delayed again. I still had at least 1 1/2 hours to get to East Glacier.

I was hungry, but the grocery stores and cafes were closed. There was a gas station with a mini mart that was doing a brisk business. But there were street people hanging around so I did not feel comfortable leaving my bike in front (unlocked) while I went inside. I hadn't yet decided whether to stay the night or press on. But looking at the choices for lodgings, it was pretty much down to staying at the casino or not at all.

When I found that the casino wanted $285 for a room for one night, that made up my mind. I would proceed to East Glacier, and sleep under the stars there if necessary. At that point, there was no question that I could cover the last 10 miles to East Glacier before the train arrived. But the question remained whether they would honor my ticket one day early. I was willing to leave that question open. 

But after very little sleep and 130 bicycle miles, I was ill-equipped to press my suit. Contrary to my wishes, I was harassed into staying. It wasn't worth it. There was no way I could eat $100 worth of breakfast. Not that breakfast anyway. And then I had the whole day to blow before the train came along at 8pm.

That did, however, give me the opportunity to go up to Two Medicine Lake -- which I had not previously seen. I stopped at the general store in East Glacier and bought cheese and crackers for my picnic lunch.

It was too windy to go up to Marias Pass, so after returning to East Glacier, I just hung around until the train arrived.