Eighteen years later, John and I were finally planning a quick trip to Glacier – a place that both of us have only brushed the edges of – and Polebridge stuck out as a place to base ourselves within a five minute drive of the park entrance, without being at the heart of the tourism storm that was bound to hit as summer came to an end. We’re not marathon sight-seers to start with – and we didn’t feel like we were under the gun to absorb the entire 1,583 square mile park stretching into Canada in 48 hours. We were happy to start with a small patch and take it from there.
This patch ended up being a tepee in a front yard of the North Fork Hostel that we rolled into just before 10 p.m., after a slow, starlit drive from Columbia Falls, with pines reaching up on either side of the road. Fall had barely started to touch the trees in northern Montana but it was still a warm night. With the windows down, that pine-baked smell of forest and soil was everywhere. If we went slow enough we could hear the waters of the North Fork on our right, but the landscape outside the truck was still a half mystery to us.
Our headlights found the turnoff sign to Polebridge. The truck crept slowly towards a cluster of buildings and cabins that were nearly all pitch black. If we had aimed to find a place that was in the middle of nowhere, we had gotten it just about right on the town’s main street. Above us, the stars were crazy.
Thirty minutes later, drinking Yaak Attack IPA out of mason jars at the Northern Lights Saloon, having found our tepee by headlamp just down the street, we got more of a feel for where we were as a generator hummed somewhere in the back. The dimly-lit bar we had stumbled into was built in 1912 as a cabin where early homesteader William Adair and his family lived while setting up shop at the Polebridge Mercantile next door. The store has been a social hub for the families that homesteaded the area for more than a century; the cabin was converted into the town’s one drinking establishment in 1976 and continues to pull in locals and tourists, who can sit shoulder to shoulder at the bar or sprawl outside on picnic tables to watch the sunset with a whiskey and a meal of grilled trout, mashed potatoes and a slice of huckleberry pie to finish.
The next morning we opened the flap of the tepee to the sound of the creek and watched the morning come up over the mountains while we made cowboy coffee on our camp stove. John grilled up bacon for breakfast burritos and I lazily chopped up avocado on a cutting board in my lap thinking that the smell of coffee percolating and bacon frying in the middle of this kind of scenery should be how every weekend should start, forever.
The tepee I had just climbed out of was one of two on the front lawn of the hostel which was once part of a homestead established in 1918 by a Canadian pioneer named Charlie Wise, who famously trekked for two days to Columbia Falls in the dead of winter with his baby after the baby swallowed button, only to have his child die en route. Adding to the tragedy, Wise found that his wife had died of influenza by the time he returned to the homestead. Stories like this abound in this part of the state. While life for the roughly 70 year-round Polebridge residents is considerably less harsh than it was a century ago – the 35 miles of highway to Columbia Falls is kept ploughed in the winter – it definitely requires a hardier breed to find this refreshing in all four seasons.
Later that day, armed with fishing rods, beer, and leftover cinnamon rolls and bear claws from the “Merc,” we stopped an hour into the trail that winds along Bowman Lake – a recommendation from saloon owner Will Hammerquistthe night before – to scramble down a clearing to the lake beach to get a feel for the fishing. We had passed three or four couples since we started out, a surprisingly small number considering the beauty of the place, less than an hour from the park entrance. The water was cold and lucid, calm enough in the late afternoon to reflect the peaks above us. I soaked my feet and the beer and watched the mountains. John waded in to check the depth. A lone yip and howl went out from forest across the water. Moments later, from another part of the mountains, a chilling response. We sat there for a long time listening to the wolves talk to each other, and then just took in the silence, as the day began its downturn.
We took our time on the winding gravel road through the park and back to Polebridge; John explored a few fishing spots along the river just outside the entrance before we made it back, pulling into the saloon as other travellers were also wrapping up their day on the lawn. We ate trout and steak with salads and homemade bread, followed by huckleberry and pecan pie, then drank with a couple from Iowa who were also exploring the park for the first time, moving inside to the barstools when the mosquitoes became too thick in the darkness. Tomorrow we will get one last gooey cinnamon roll from the bakery, grab a strong coffee to go, and drive towards Glacier’s more touristy areas like Lake McDonald and Going-to-the-Sun Road; RVs and selfie sticks. But tonight is for enjoying this remoteness.
As the saloon door is held open, and the warm glow of the bar begs for a night of more history-telling and lively conversation, I get that one last glimpse of the mountains’ silhouette as the day is done for good. It’s reminder that we are still on the periphery of a great wilderness.
If you go
From Columbia Falls, take Montana 486 – or North Fork Road – for 35 miles. The road turns to gravel a few miles outside town, about the same time you start to lose cell phone reception. Make sure you gas up and stock up on essentials before leaving. While the Polebridge Mercantile stocks last-minute necessities, it’s a limited selection – you will want to do the bulk of your grocery shopping ahead of time, especially if you are travelling further into Glacier National Park. The entrance to the park is about a mile from Polebridge.
Where to stay
We loved our tepee stay for $60 a night at the North Fork Hostel and Square Peg Ranch – but that kind of accommodation isn’t everyone’s style. There was a full-size bed and a cot, as well as a fire pit in the center of the tepee for a fire if we had wanted to start one, though guests are asked to bring their own firewood. When it rained in the middle of the night, I felt a few drops from the tepee opening at the top – a surprisingly nice sensation to wake up to, actually – but otherwise it fell on the fire pit and we stayed dry. Toilets are long drops with eclectic decorations and band posters at the back of the property and were kept very clean while we were there. We had access to the kitchen, but chose to cook on our own grill for breakfast in the morning outside the tepee. Other intriguing options on the property included the Goat Cabin and the tiny Green Zuccinni caravan/cabin “for the financially challenged.” Polebridge options on nearby properties can be found on VRBO – there is quite a range.
Where to eat
A night out at the Northern Lights Saloon is worth the drive in itself. The food is better than your average bar meal – but it was the scenery, the company and the evening dinner crowd vibe that really made it a memorable dining experience that made us want to linger until closing time. In a landscape of huckleberry desserts, the pecan pie chased with a local whiskey may have been the best thing I tasted all weekend. Just down the road, the Home Ranch Bottoms at Glacier Park is known for its Texas style barbecue ribs and barbecue and boasts “the coldest beer in the North Fork” – it also has a campground and cabin rentals. And obviously, hit up the Polebridge Merc’s famous bakery in the morning. The earlier the better to get the freshest pastries.
What to explore
Where to start? You are at the edge of one of the wildest areas of the state and trailheads are everywhere. At the saloon on our first night, we were told about Bowman Lake and Kintla Lake as great day hikes. We opted for a rather stroll-like hike along Bowman Lake that didn’t require too much energy and allowed for plenty of time for photography and fishing on the way back. When we return with more time and ambition, the 38-mile horseshoe hike starting at Bowman and ending at Kintla would be my pick.
Nice blog! The sceneries became alive in this article:)
Thank you Tina, I appreciate that.