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 Day 9 Avalanche Campground, Glacier NP
It is raining again this morning, so after a big breakfast in camp we
walk the deep and dark Trail of the Cedars, made all the more
mysterious today by the dense mists and dripping boughs.
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When we
return to camp and begin settling in, an orange '73 Westy with Alberta
plates circles a few times before wheeling into the site next to ours.
We exchange a cordial wave and he and his girlfriend
set about arranging their firewood and matching camp chairs emblazoned
with giant
Canadian maple leaves, while I remove the grill from the front of our
own Westy and begin looking for ways to prevent further rodential
intrusion. I center my attention on the edges of the main air intake,
and carefully install alternating layers of duct tape and interwoven
coils of single-strand metal wire, a sort of improvised chicken-wire
mesh, followed by more duct tape.
Halfway through the job, the Canuck hollers
over: "VW problems, eh?"
"Nothing I can't solve with a bit of stovepipe
wire and some duct tape."
"Ha! Duct tape, eh?" he says skeptically.
"Sure," I reply. "Learned it from one of your
countrymen; perhaps you know Red Green?" |
"Aw man, he ain't even Canadian.
He's just a bad stereotype; makes us all look bad, ya know, eh?"
My task finally complete, I clamber aboard to
find that Lorie has prepared a feast of good Wisconsin bratwurst with
beans, and cold bottles of local Trout Slayer Ale. After discussing our
plans for tomorrow, we retire for the evening, with one ear open for
the sound of invading
mice.
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