Might be the road talking here but man is this a cool place.  Like an old fashion saloon but with coffee. And wifi too! So hennacornoelidays recommended.

Havre, MT

They didn’t seem to care that Corey and I stayed at the same hotel fifteen years ago. It was quite an oasis on the very hot and dusty Highway 2 or, as locals here like to call it, the Hi-Line. We ordered pizza, walked complementary drinks across the highway (big rigs slowed down and the star twinkled while we did so), and felt all bad ass in the way that only those under thirty can feel. Six weeks ago the teenage hotel clerk smiled when I told her all this, but honestly she did not seem that interested.

So the three of us ordered pizza here and hung out at the pool. Our trip, and summer, were almost completely in front of us and it felt good to be back somewhere where Corey and I began. Now the leaves are changing in Waterton and there ain’t much summer left to be had. Trying to do things a bit different this time we went out to dinner. Then saw a movie and even had a little time left over to hang out at the pool.

The restaurant, a funky looking Mexican diner, was recommended by the hotel. It was horrible. Henna’s vegetarian fajitas had non-Hispanic things in it like cauliflower that you knew came straight out of a frozen veggie bag. My chili relleno was like soup. Afterwards I asked almost every one I met if they would recommend the place. The hipster bartender at the casino next door said he loved the place for its authenticity. The teenage girl at the coffee shop next to the movie theater ate there the other day and would gladly do so again. This genuine affection for such a lousy place depressed us. The hotel clerk, the same one who recommended the place, later told me she used to work at the place but actually does not care for the food herself. She recommended it though because, “everyone just kind of has to work it out for themselves.” Travel is kind of the same way.

Floating away on Waterton Lake

I try not to. But sometimes I just cannot help myself. Or someone else starts the conversation. Like in Cantwell (about 30 miles east of Denali National Park) where we camped next to a very cool collection of Scottish tourists. Mostly retired teachers and school administrators as well as a salesman and a builder, they made what could have been a buggy, tired night into a joyous folk festival.  We called it, they played it plus they introduced us to a few mournful Scottish ballads. In between tunes they questioned how someone as unabashedly racist and ignorant could earn the Republican nomination. I asked if they had ever watched Fox news. And I reminded them that Europe also has their share of right wing nationalist nut jobs in or almost in power. They told me that as much as they enjoy traveling through America they would never do so during a Trump administration. That type of sentiment is something we (who love traveling through the red states) often struggle with. Especially when some of the nicest, most helpful people we meet are the same folk who perceive our current president as the devil. And by devil I mean a literal agent of hell.

We also talked quite a bit to others about health care. We have now visited almost every corner of Canada and have yet to meet a Canadian who envies our system. Most truly do not get it. A common question is “So if someone is sick and does not have insurance no one will help them?” This is even true in socially conservative Alberta (where a pick-up truck passed us by with a sticker that said “I support global warming”). Even when I mention the benefits of our system, such as not having to wait for “non-essential” medical procedures (so long as you have insurance) they scratch their heads at the thought of not being able to walk into a free clinic whenever they want. Everyone in Canada though does agree with me that their liquor is too expensive.

But mostly people talked about Trump. Both to us as well as on the radio, television, and in print. Even the small local paper in Dawson Creek gave a very thorough analysis of the race. And in Atlin, at the visitor center, a very worried and politically obsessed older woman originally from Ireland expressed her fear that a Trump presidency will likely lead to a nuclear holocaust. Other people, especially European tourists, do not understand why people dislike Hillary. If I mention that her husband had an affair, then lied about it to the American people (as well as possibly under oath) they smile that peculiar smile that says “ah you naïve Americans.” Trigger words like “Benghazi” or “email scandal” mean even less to them. My guess is that there is no Fox news in Europe.

One of the many bears we saw along the Red Canyon Road in Waterton National Park

Oh the people we have met. So many stories. Here is one to start. Cody, just nineteen, was camping with his mom in Waterton National Park when he saw a help wanted sign. He kept the tent, a few dollars, and a couple of other things while mom drove home to Manitoba. Cody worked his first shift the night we rolled in and in the morning we talked politics. Mostly he wanted to know exactly which states legalized pot. And how the electoral college works. So it went like this: “Nebraska has three electoral votes because they have one representative and two senators.” “Can you buy pot there?” “I don’t know.” He also asked Corey if her hair is highlighted. It is. He then took off his cap and asked if it looked like his hair was also colored. He thought maybe someone had played a prank on him. I think they did. Later Cody traded me one Pabst Blue Ribbon for a ride into town so that he could move into his new digs. The restaurant he works at offers good food and lodging for $300 a month. It is a good deal but all the beds are taken so he plans on sleeping on an air mattress under the stairs Harry Potter style.

Bears Hump as viewed from our campground

We also made quite a few friends. On the ferry to Juneau we met Grace and her mom Tracy. We ended up camping next to them and their friendly dog Mac. From Tracy we learned how special living in the Southeast can be. Things her and her family have done in the past few years include digging up whale bones, kayaking to remote islands, and witnessing epic displays of the Northern Lights. And Grace taught Henna how to make a wicked torch from moss draped sticks. Tracy also has written a series of children books detailing some of these adventures. They are very creative and will make you want to move to the Inside Passage. Take a look.

Our campground as viewed from on top Bears Hump (relatively easy, but steep 1.6 KM hike from visitor center)

The sun was high but it was late in Seward and we were ready to go to bed. The city campground was cheap but poorly organized and right off the main road into town. It was also overbooked and we shared our site with another group (polite kids, they were taking a small break from working at Denali). At the moment I was putting out the fire a beat up Subaru pulled up next to us and honked the horn. The front door opened and I recognized the smiling face. The first thought that popped in my mind was that Eric had stolen a car.

He had not. Each night in Juneau we stayed up late with Grace, Tracy, Mac, Eric and Mara. Eric and Mara were backpacking from Holland. Both have a good sense of humor and endeared themselves to Henna by treating her like an adult. After Juneau they had a series of adventures that included impulsively flying to Homer in order to rent a crappy car at a ridiculous price in Homer. Now in Seward they had nowhere to camp. Luckily we had done a favor for another European couple and they had no problem with Eric and Mara camping on their site. So it was in Seward we had the chance to hang out with friends for a few days more.

Waterton Lake (taken from on top Bears Hump)

We have more stories. And pictures. Over the next few weeks we will catch you up. But right now it is morning in Waterton and the ladies are beginning to stir. The sky is blue and the soft grass is wet with dew. It is so sunny that I have to use our tent’s shadow in order to make out what I write. Been on the road now for almost two months and it is about time to go home. But right now I feel like I already am.