THE GREAT AMERICAN ROAD TRIP

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I arrived in Wallace, Idaho late Monday night and with dog in tow and my suitcases, I lugged them up a twisting flight of stairs to the second floor and went to the far end of the hallway where my room was located. Wallace is so historic. The whole town is listed on the National Register of Historic Places, so why would I think Wallace Inn would have an elevator? I chose the Inn because I heard that the restaurant next-door had the best breakfast in town. Unfortunately, because of COVID and its carryover effects, it left many businesses with little or no help and some of them couldn’t open for business including this restaurant. Under “normal” circumstances, Wallace is a very unique town located in what they call the “Silver Valley” boasting “the world’s richest silver district.” The buildings are beautiful and it is filled with museums, historical houses and quaint restaurants — it should be on the bucket list of anyone interested in Northwestern history.

As I mentioned in Part I, I met up with Brian Bressel (the former General Manager of Sunrise Park Resort). After leaving the White Mountains of Arizona, Bressel was hired as General Manager at Lookout Pass Ski Lodge and Manager of the Route of the Hiawatha Bike Trail for the Forest Service. Occasionally he would call and ask for help with marketing, so we stayed in touch. Once in a while he’d say, “Come up and ride the trail, it’s beautiful…!” After working with his Marketing Director, Matthew, he too would ask, “When are you coming to ride the trail?” So here I was… in Wallace, Idaho packing my backpack and my camera and getting ready to head to the Montana border to Lookout Pass Ski Hill and Lodge. We found a small cafe in town that served danishes, yogurt, and coffee and grabbed a bite before heading out to prepare for the long 15-mile bike ride along the old train Route of the Hiawatha.

Lookout Pass Lodge is a short ten-minute drive from Wallace, along Interstate 90 (originally called the Yellowstone Highway), just off exit 0. The Lodge, built in 1941 by the Civilian Conservation Corp. (CCC), is the second oldest ski lodge in the Pacific Northwest. It is the headquarters for the Route of the Hiawatha (ROTH) and was our first stop on the way to the trail. Here we picked up tickets and a sack lunch and I dropped off my travel companion (my black Lab), Duncan, with Scotty, the Financial Manager. As we left the office, someone pointed out a moose and her calf grazing on the side of the ski hill. After gawking at the moose and a brief tour of the lodge, Brian and I picked out my bike from the rental shop, threw it in the back of his truck (along with his own personal bike) and I followed him to the trail, a few more miles east on I-90, in my Ford Ranger.

A light drizzle dampened us, our bikes, and the gravel road leading to the first tunnel and the beginning of the trail — a welcomed rain because of the wildfires in the area. Still, it blanketed us with a damp chill and made the already long, dark St. Paul Tunnel feel a lot colder (48º mid-way).

This tunnel is the highlight of the trail. It burrows 8,771 feet through the Bitterroot Mountains at the state line. The water from rain and snow seeps through the mountain and drips into the ruts on each side of the tunnel. Around the time it was built, water was important and Montana and Idaho each wanted their share of the drainage. To please them both, engineers designed it so that, at the mid-point of the tunnel where the state border lies, each side angles down at a slight 1º slope, so each State gets their share of the water.

Heading into the St. Paul tunnel, I turned on the light attached to my bike, put on my riding gloves, and rolled into the darkness, following Brian. It was a good practice in balance and a great way to break in my bike legs. After riding 1.6 miles through the pitch-dark tunnel with an illuminated focal point of about two feet, avoiding water-filled ruts on both sides, and dodging on-coming bikers, the rest of the trail was a “piece of cake.” On the other side of the tunnel, we were greeted with a waterfall and a few rays of sun.

The Route of the Hiawatha was dubbed a “Hall of Fame” trail by the Rail-to-Trail Conservancy. It has 10 tunnels and 7 sky-high trestles as it winds down through the rugged Bitterroot Mountains. It is the old track of the Milwaukee Railroad, which was considered one of the most scenic stretches of railroad in the country. The first rail car to traverse the Northwest track was in 1909, however, the last passenger train, the Olympian Hiawatha, passed through the Bitterroots in 1961 and the electric locomotives were gradually replaced by diesel engines in 1973. The last train west of Butte, Montana passed through in 1980 and then the line was abandoned (RidetheHiawatha.com). Brian told me that once it was converted to a recreational bike trail, the wiring that was left behind from the electric trains was gathered up by Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation volunteers to prevent hazards to wildlife. — kudos to them.

The Route of the Hiawatha showcases incredible views of a mountainous terrain carpeted with Douglas fir, white bark pine, Lodgepole pine, Engleman Spruce, grand fir, and Western larch. Brian pointed out that the western larch are coniferous/deciduous trees. They are one of the few coniferous trees to change from green to gold and lose their needles in the fall.

After our leisurely six-hour bike ride through tunnels, over trestles, past overlooks and wildlife, and then to the bottom (and end) of the trail, I watched Brian and his crew load bikes into trailers and bikes and riders onto buses and haul both of them back to the top — but not quite where they started. To get back to their vehicles, they had to ride through the St. Paul Tunnel again — and we did too. By the time we headed back into the tunnel, I had become a proficient biker and the tunnel was “easy as pie”.

We dropped off my bike with the other rentals (between 300-500+ bikes) at the loading area, jumped in our trucks, and headed back to the office at Lookout Pass Lodge. I was worried that Duncan thought I had abandoned him, but discovered he was pretty spoiled while I was gone. I watched the bike crew unloading bikes and taking care of end-of-the-day details — it was a very busy day. Then, Brian invited them all to dinner. We drove back to Kellogg, Idaho and ate Mexican food.

The next day, I packed up my things and headed east on I-90 toward Montana, made a quick stop at Lookout Pass to pick up some souvenirs, say my thank you’s and my goodbyes, and headed toward Idaho Falls. Next stop: Yellowstone National Park!

I didn’t quite make it to Yellowstone that day because of time restraints. Instead, I drove I-90 to Butte, Montana, took I-15 to Idaho Falls and spent the night there. Early the next morning, I (and thousands of other people) drove State Highway 20 into the west entrance of the Park. I have to say it was disappointing because of the crowds. Old Faithful was “over loved” that day. So I drove past the parking lot, but I did see a lot and plan to make a return trip during the “off season” — if there is one.

I drove toward Grand Teton National Park and, when I got there, stepped out of my truck and felt a well of emotions — the Tetons are incredibly beautiful! It took me hours to get through the park, despite the lack of crowds, because I kept stopping to take pictures. I was wondering where everyone was until I got to Jackson, Wyoming. It seemed the entire country was visiting that town (and Old Faithful) and it took me two hours to get through to the other side. Maybe there is an “off season” there too. It was, however, pretty cool to see the antler sculptures, vintage signage on buildings and the ski hill at the end of town.

After a very long drive through the back roads of beautiful western Wyoming, I had to stop in Utah for the night, because it was raining and I was too tired to drive any longer on wet highways with low visibility. It would be my and Duncan’s last night on the road.

We made it through six states on this trip — Utah, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, Montana and Wyoming and counting Arizona; made it seven. And I have to say, it was good to see the red rocks of home once I cruised I-15 to State Highway 89 past Bryce Canyon National Park (I loved Kanab), and Zion National Park to Lake Powell in Page. We stopped at the Glenn Canyon Dam for a stretch and then finished the trip through Flagstaff down I-40 to Holbrook and then Pinetop.

This road trip left me empowered — ready to hit the road again, soon — especially when you have a good vehicle, like my Ford Ranger, a good traveling dog and siblings who occupy your time by calling and talking during the slow, boring stretches. I prefer seeing America through a windshield rather than watching from 30 miles in the sky. I like my feet on the ground where I can see the amazing countryside and stop for an adventure — or two.

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