July 28: Lake Koocanusa

     Do I need to repeat myself?  More great mountain and river scenery all day long.

     One day when I was talking about my trip to a friend of mine, he remarked that he could never do a trip like this primarily because, being a social person, he couldn't handle the loneliness.  Well, today, my third day on my own, I found a cure for the loneliness.  I've started talking to myself.  For example, I would make a comment about the scenery--out loud--and then I would answer, "yes indeed, that IS a nice waterfall coming out of those mountains."  Or I would see a sign along the road and I would read the name of the business, such as Bill's Body Shop.  Then I would reply to myself with a rip on the name, like Bill's Shoddy Body Shop.  Next, I would have to one-up myself and say, "more like JILL's Shoddy Body Shop."  This whole exchange should give my readers a good example of the high level of intellectual activity going on in my giant brain.  Plus, I don't particularly care to be social for awhile.  My job required me to be social for more than 33 years.

     I re-supplied in Libby, Montana and then followed the Adventure Cycling route on what is called the Old Haul Road.  That little up and down and twist and turn road reminded me of a New England country lane--at least in the mountainous part of New England.  It was a 15-mile long country lane where I saw maybe a dozen cars.
     Next came a big climb up to the Libby Dam which forms Lake Koocanusa--50 miles long and about a mile wide--my goal being the MacGillivray Campground.
     What a gigantic disappointment the MacGillivray turned out to be.  The sites were exposed and overused and just plain shabby. 
     But wait a minute!  At the last minute I saw a sign that read, "Walk-in Tent Sites."  I rode my bike up the trail to the walk-in tent sites and . . .my spirits were uplifted--and that's not just the Jim Beam talking.  Up and over a small ridge, a beautiful view of Lake Koocanusa was revealed and I had the whole area to myself.  Blessed with good fortune, I am perfectly content for another evening.
     A big bald eagle flew over my campsite probably looking for dinner, which was a T-Bone steak and ramen noodles.  I would have fought him to the death for that hunk of meat if he had tried to swoop in on it.

Walk-in-only campsites make me happy.



Signs like this only pique my appetite for danger.

Libby Dam