Hot Water - No Photos Please
Our little hike in Glacier National Park from Logan Pass to the Hidden Lake overlook was the day before. As hikes go, relatively short and up a gentle incline. I've done this hike many times before, but either the mountains have gotten steeper, or my lung have gotten older - not sure which is true. They say the "legs are the first to go". My experience was that the legs are willing, but it is the lungs that are weak.
The morning after our jaunt through the snow, I decided what we needed was to "take the waters". Not that I was feeling any ill effects - it is just nice to take the waters. In this case, it was a 45 minute drive from Polson to Wild Horse Hot Springs. For $3 per hour per person one could get a 4-foot deep cement pool inside a dimly lit room that was filled with 121 degree mineral water.
Spoiler Alert! --- Underneath these adult clothes, I am really naked.
Me and the wife cut off the lonely 2-lane Montana highway and turned north at the well weathered sign that seemed to point toward the Wild Horse Aqua Park & Hot Springs. For a mile or two we traveled very dusty ranch roads until arriving at the Aqua Park. The place was surrounded by a rusted-out house trailer or two, ample scrap iron and old pipes and what was probably a 60-year old low slung structure connected to the bath house. We paid $6 and were shown which of the rooms had working plumbing. I thought #4 looked the best. That is not to imply that these could in anyway be thought of as the now popular "spa" type of setting. But for $6, it was a deal. I am all about value. Me and the misses took off our clothes (I warned you this was coming) and stepped down the aqua green painted cement steps into the broth. A pool of hot water is really a civilized way of letting worries and aches of body and soul melt away. It was a good soak, for about an hour. Once reaching parboiled prune stage, it was time to dry off. All muscles restored by hot mineral waters. Probably a good idea, but someone in our party said "of course there will be no pictures of this event on your blog." So, let your imagination run wild as your peruse this very literature.
I decided to take the long way home. Just east of the town Hot Springs, is the world famous Camus Prairie Giant Ripple Marks http://www.glaciallakemissoula.org/virtualtour/camasprarie.html. A must see for the geologist and and natural history affectionados of the cataclysmic Glacial Lake Missoula. We stopped and marveled at the indications of deep and swift moving waters from the last glacial age, but seen deposited in a now arid valley.
Stupid Joke Alert!
Q: What did the Mother buffalo say as she sent her boy off to school?
A: Bison!
Still cooling down from cooking in the Wild Horse Hot Springs, I pulled into the Moise Mercantile for a Huckleberry milkshake. The couple from Washington parked next to us asked if we were going to tour the National Bison Range? They breathlessly told us that they had just finished driving the 19-mile tour and had seen a bear picking berries, an elk, Big Horn Sheep and many bison cows with their calves! Sue was intrigued. I remember the Bison Range as a less-than-thrilling slow ride over a big hill, which may or probably may not have any wildlife to see. I've been there about 4 or 5 times. No doubt, after our Huckleberry shakes, I was going to go again.
We saw Big Horn Sheep in the shade on the slope of mountain. We saw several solitary bison bulls. Then toward the end, we saw off in the distance, the herd of bison. I guess these critters are a must see, as part of Sue's family lore, her Grandfather raised buffalo (bison) on his ranch in Miles City, Montana. That endeavor has since been referred to in the Cook family as "those damn buffalo!" Among other things, they don't take to fences too kindly.
On a sad note for lovers on nonsequiturs, driving through Charlo, Montana, just outside the National Bison Range, I saw that the Hawaiian Cafe was no longer in business. I always wanted to stop and sip a mai tai at the Hawaiian Cafe in Charlo, Montana as I looked upon the great ungulate beasts of the North American Plains and the snow-covered crags of the Mission Range while trying to think of the the tropics with spouting whales, and hula dancers on the sunny beach. I guess the Hawaiian Cafe in the land of melted glaciers, bears and bison was never meant to be.
Our little hike in Glacier National Park from Logan Pass to the Hidden Lake overlook was the day before. As hikes go, relatively short and up a gentle incline. I've done this hike many times before, but either the mountains have gotten steeper, or my lung have gotten older - not sure which is true. They say the "legs are the first to go". My experience was that the legs are willing, but it is the lungs that are weak.
The morning after our jaunt through the snow, I decided what we needed was to "take the waters". Not that I was feeling any ill effects - it is just nice to take the waters. In this case, it was a 45 minute drive from Polson to Wild Horse Hot Springs. For $3 per hour per person one could get a 4-foot deep cement pool inside a dimly lit room that was filled with 121 degree mineral water.
Spoiler Alert! --- Underneath these adult clothes, I am really naked.
Me and the wife cut off the lonely 2-lane Montana highway and turned north at the well weathered sign that seemed to point toward the Wild Horse Aqua Park & Hot Springs. For a mile or two we traveled very dusty ranch roads until arriving at the Aqua Park. The place was surrounded by a rusted-out house trailer or two, ample scrap iron and old pipes and what was probably a 60-year old low slung structure connected to the bath house. We paid $6 and were shown which of the rooms had working plumbing. I thought #4 looked the best. That is not to imply that these could in anyway be thought of as the now popular "spa" type of setting. But for $6, it was a deal. I am all about value. Me and the misses took off our clothes (I warned you this was coming) and stepped down the aqua green painted cement steps into the broth. A pool of hot water is really a civilized way of letting worries and aches of body and soul melt away. It was a good soak, for about an hour. Once reaching parboiled prune stage, it was time to dry off. All muscles restored by hot mineral waters. Probably a good idea, but someone in our party said "of course there will be no pictures of this event on your blog." So, let your imagination run wild as your peruse this very literature.
I decided to take the long way home. Just east of the town Hot Springs, is the world famous Camus Prairie Giant Ripple Marks http://www.glaciallakemissoula.org/virtualtour/camasprarie.html. A must see for the geologist and and natural history affectionados of the cataclysmic Glacial Lake Missoula. We stopped and marveled at the indications of deep and swift moving waters from the last glacial age, but seen deposited in a now arid valley.
Stupid Joke Alert!
Q: What did the Mother buffalo say as she sent her boy off to school?
A: Bison!
Still cooling down from cooking in the Wild Horse Hot Springs, I pulled into the Moise Mercantile for a Huckleberry milkshake. The couple from Washington parked next to us asked if we were going to tour the National Bison Range? They breathlessly told us that they had just finished driving the 19-mile tour and had seen a bear picking berries, an elk, Big Horn Sheep and many bison cows with their calves! Sue was intrigued. I remember the Bison Range as a less-than-thrilling slow ride over a big hill, which may or probably may not have any wildlife to see. I've been there about 4 or 5 times. No doubt, after our Huckleberry shakes, I was going to go again.
We saw Big Horn Sheep in the shade on the slope of mountain. We saw several solitary bison bulls. Then toward the end, we saw off in the distance, the herd of bison. I guess these critters are a must see, as part of Sue's family lore, her Grandfather raised buffalo (bison) on his ranch in Miles City, Montana. That endeavor has since been referred to in the Cook family as "those damn buffalo!" Among other things, they don't take to fences too kindly.
On a sad note for lovers on nonsequiturs, driving through Charlo, Montana, just outside the National Bison Range, I saw that the Hawaiian Cafe was no longer in business. I always wanted to stop and sip a mai tai at the Hawaiian Cafe in Charlo, Montana as I looked upon the great ungulate beasts of the North American Plains and the snow-covered crags of the Mission Range while trying to think of the the tropics with spouting whales, and hula dancers on the sunny beach. I guess the Hawaiian Cafe in the land of melted glaciers, bears and bison was never meant to be.
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