Day #63 - 5/13/2011 - Spokane Valley, WA to Kalispell, Montana - 229 miles

The mostly stunning 229 miles from Spokane Valley, WA to Kalispell, MT took us this way.

I can't think about Spokane without thinking of one of my most favoritest recording artists, Warren Zevon, who, in what is probably the only rock 'n roll polka, rhymes Spokane with divan.  Here, he's introduced by David Letterman in a great live performance.of Mr. Bad Example (a favorite song title.)  Witty lyrics follow.

Mr. Bad Example

• Written By Warren Zevon & Jorge Calderon
  c. 1991, Zevon Music,
  administered by Warner-Tamerlane Publishing corp./Googolplex Music BMI
  
  I started as an altar boy, working at the church
  Learning all my holy moves, doing some research
  Which led me to a cash box, labeled "Children's Fund"
  I'd leave the change, and tuck the bills inside my cummerbund
  
  I got a part-time job at my father's carpet store
  Laying tackless stripping, and housewives by the score
  I loaded up their furniture, and took it to Spokane
  And auctioned off every last naugahyde divan
  
  I'm very well aquainted with the seven deadly sins
  I keep a busy schedule trying to fit them in
  I'm proud to be a glutton, and I don't have time for sloth
  I'm greedy, and I'm angry, and I don't care who I cross
  
  I'm Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt
  I like to have a good time, and I don't care who gets hurt
  I'm Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me
  I'll live to be a hundred, and go down in infamy
  
  Of course I went to law school and took a law degree
  And counseled all my clients to plead insanity
  Then worked in hair replacement, swindling the bald
  Where very few are chosen, and fewer still are called
  
  Then on to Monte Carlo to play chemin de fer
  I threw away the fortune I made transplanting hair
  I put my last few francs down on a prostitute
  Who took me up to her room to perform the flag salute
  
  Whereupon I stole her passport and her wig
  And headed for the airport and the midnight flight, you dig?
  And fourteen hours later I was down in Adelaide
  Looking through the want ads sipping Fosters in the shade
  
  I opened up an agency somewhere down the line
  To hire aboriginals to work the opal mines
  But I attached their wages and took a whopping cut
  And whisked away their workman's comp and pauperized the lot
  
  I'm Mr. Bad Example, intruder in the dirt
  I like to have a good time, and I don't care who gets hurt
  I'm Mr. Bad Example, take a look at me
  I'll live to be a hundred and go down in infamy
  
  I bought a first class ticket on Malaysian Air
  And landed in Sri Lanka none the worse for wear
  I'm thinking of retiring from all my dirty deals
  I'll see you in the next life, wake me up for meals

Anyway, that's what I think about when I think of Spokane. 

Yesterday, I was whining about being in the car, not being on the my cycle, the inhospitable weather and being out-of-shape.  On the other hand, the car gave us flexibility and Glacier National Park lay ahead of us, a desired destination for years.  So, today’s plan became clear: head towards Glacier National Park.  We aimed the Garmin to Kalispell, MT.

The scenery on I-90E leaving Spokane was stunning.  Evergreen studded mountains with snowy peaks, interspersed with high-mountain lakes, paralleled by mountain streams.   We passed through the northern skinny part of Idaho, barely 50 miles wide, and, unfortunately, missed the border crossing photo-ops.  Passing through Coeur d'Alene, the largest city in the Northern Idaho panhandle, we detoured off the highway and took a leisurely ride on the narrow road around Coeur d'Alene Lake.

Lake Coeur d'Alene is 25 miles long and 1-3 miles wide.  The southern third is owned by the Coeur d'Alene Tribe.   Several Ford Model T automobiles reside on the lake bottom from people in the early 1900s who would drive across the lake during the winter time in order to save half the distance in getting around the lake...and not quite make it.  The lake is a popular destination and a favorite for the locals for opportunities to view bald eagles.  Click on the photo.

 Lani and I agreed that it was one of the most beautiful parts of the country we had seen.  At one point, we climbed above the snow level, finding ourselves flanked by snowy mountains leading up to the roads edge.   We pulled into Mullan, Idaho, just to look around.

Population 840, Mullan came into existence in 1884 when gold, lead and silver were discovered in nearby mines.  Visually, the town of  Mullan looked...ummm...rugged.

And, like other small town we entered, like Ritzville, WA, the downtown area is compressed into a few square blocks (the entire town is only 0.8 square miles.)

The Outlaw Tavern is said to have Idaho's best burger.  If I had known, we would have stopped.

 Small towns like Mullan take pride in their history.  Like the small Texas towns we entered that owed their existence to the Southern Pacific, Mullan was incorporated in 1889 when the Northern Pacific Railway came to it.

Mullan's namesake is West Point graduate and topographic engineer John Mullan, who was in charge of selecting a wagon route (commonly called the Mullan Road.  The plaque reads: "Dedicated by the Mullan War Mothers to the Mulland Girls and Boys who served in the Armed Fores of the United States in World War II", erected 1946. 

The Hecla Mining Company still operates the Lucky Friday Mine, a silver, zinc and lead mine just a quarter-mile from Mullan.

City Hall and the all-volunteer Mullan Fire Department.  The Lucky Friday Mine Rescue Team compete at the national level at the National Mine Rescue Competition.  (Who knew? but I'm glad that people do this!)

 Leaving Mullan, we returned to the highway and found ourselves above the snowline - in mid-May.

The Lookout Pass Ski Resort opened in 1935 and tops out at 5650'.  It averages 350" snow annually and operates 3 double chairs along with a rope tow.

 Washington blended into Idaho, giving way to Montana…all of it visually stunning.

Have you ever seen those signs warning of "Falling Rock"?  It happens.  We waited for about 20 minutes to be waved through.

We continued to lose altitude and descended into Paradise Valley, Montana.  Who knew Montana was so beautiful?  I didn't.  I kept reminding myself that it only looks like this 3 months out of the year.

In the distance is the Absaroka Range, part of the Rocky Mountains, named after the Absaroka Indians.  The "For Sale" sign caught my eye and had me thinking.  This is an eminently clickable photo.

The Yellowstone River flows through Paradise Valley and features world-class fly fishing. The valley hosts other natural wonders such as several natural hot springs. 

I had to circle back to get a better look at this incredibly idyllic homestead.

 Even the field of dandelions was pretty.

I've never been a big dandelion fan, but, in addition to being consumed since pre-history by cultures around-the-world, they are an important source of early-season nectar for bees.  I'll keep that it mind as I continue to rip them from my yard.

 Passing through Paradise Valley, we entered Paradise, population 184 and another census-designated place, worthy of a name, but not big enough to be a town.  

I was going to say that naming this area "Paradise" was an example of visual onomatopoeia (when a word imitates or suggests the source of the sound that it describes)  but it turns out that there's actually a word for that sort of thing: iconicity.

As charming as Paradise might have been, options for much of anything were limited, as in none or one.

This is pretty much it for Paradise.  The Paradise Cafe beckoned.

According to census data, Paradise has 103 "housing units" contained within its 0.2 square miles.  And much like so many of these small towns the racial demographic - according to census statistics was striking, coming in at >95% white.  Pretty homogeneous.  Plains, Montana, about 10 miles away, provides the usual essentials.

The Paradise Cafe was, like Paradise itself, petite.

It was no surprise that Paradise sported a railroad depot as it is usually the railroad itself that lead to creation of the town.

Paradise was originally developed as a station for the Northern Pacific Railroad. It was a vital water supply stop before the climb over the Bitterroot Range into Idaho.

After another hour of driving, Flathead Lake and the "census designated place" Elmo came into view.  Flathead Lake, a fresh-water lake larger than Lake Tahoe contains a dozen small islands, the largest of which is a state park called Wild Horse Island.   Once known as "Salish Lake", this body of water takes its name from the Salish (Flathead) Indians who live at the southern end of the lake on the Flathead Indian Reservation.

Wild Horse Island is in the mid-ground of the Flathead Lake.  The area sustains a remarkably mild climate for a region located this far north and inland; the Pacific Ocean is almost 400 miles to the west. The mild climate allows for cherry orchards on the east shore and vineyards for wine production on the west shore

The highway paralleled the shoreline of Flathead Lake for 26 picturesque miles.  Kalispell, our  destination for the day, pulled into view.

Yes...the area is gorgeous, but it receives measurable snow about 7 months a year and the average daily temperature is below freezing 7 months a year.  OTOH, June through August features warm days and cool-to-cold nights.

Kalispell, population 19,927 - up 40% since 1990! - is a Salish word meaning "flat land above the lake" is also the gateway to Glacier National Park.

Okay...you have my attention, Big Billboard on the highway entering Kalispell.  What are you about?  From the website:  "Skull Church is an explicitly evangelistic event centered on the good news about Jesus Christ...specifically targeting a lost generation that doesn't know God, isn't necessarily "into" church, and desperately needs Jesus...The cornerstone of the night is a gospel message from Pastor Levi Lusko. Real. Relevant. Raw."  We drove on.

James J. Hill of the Great Northern Railroad founded Kalispell in 1891.  Kalispell is only 31 miles from Glacier National Park and 22 miles from Hungry Horse Dam. Skiers have access to Whitefish Mountain Resort and Blacktail Mountain Ski Area each only 17 miles away. Flathead Lake is only 7 miles away.  Lani and I agreed: nice area...worth a return trip.

"Eat my noodles?"  Seriously?  Apparently a lot of people felt this way as the Chicken Noodle Cafe closed down.

We took a slow drive around Kalispell, admiring the long upscale/upbeat main street that cut through the length of the town.  Lani grabbed my iPhone and started looking for bookstores.

Blacktail Mountain Books had "the look".  A block off the main drag in an area of town that looked just a bit neglected, it was classic "brick and mortar", proudly advertising its used books.  And, there were cycles parked out front.

Bookstores such as this one invite endless browsing, giving the impression that somewhere in the stacks is a hidden treasure. 

I milled about patiently while Lani studied the wares,

walking away with what is probably an 1880 printing of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens.

TripAdvisor lists 21 hotels for Kalispell.  We looked for our current favorite chain, the Super 8. 

Free Wi-Fi is a nice Super 8 feature.  Our room was within range of a number of hotspots.  One can only wonder.

We split a burrito at the Kalispell Qdoba (one of the better chains, we agreed) and, at Lani's insistence, went to see Bridesmaids.

Typical Judd Apatow, riddled with intelligent raunch, Bridesmaids was fun, but would have been just as good on Netflix.

Looking up "Montana gun culture" on the Google turns up >450,000 hits that span all sides of the issue.

Y'know what really would have been funny?:  If the two iconic "do not" signs were side-by-side with a single caption: "No firearms, food or drink."

We had covered a lot of territory from Spokane, WA, through Coeur d'Alene, ID on into Kalispell, Montana, Gateway to Glacier National Park.  We were both looking forward to tomorrow.