A day of driving: Idaho to Montana

As planned, I drove north from Coeur d'Alene to Bonners Ferry, ID, crossing into Montana just beyond. Some gorgeous scenery I did not stop to photograph in Bonners Ferry, although there is this shot of a game processing storefront, not a North Carolina norm.

Bonners Ferry is different, a hotbed of polygamy and fierce independence, not at all far from Ruby Ridge, which I did not venture to see. It seemed quite normal driving through, of course.

There is no welcoming sign upon entering Montana. You don't know you're in-state until the mile markers begin again at 1 after having approached 500 in Idaho. The signs are distinctly unfriendly: don't you dare bring invasive plants here; notice that we place a white cross on a red post where people die on our highways (although the crosses look more like pluses, just waiting to add one for you); and so on. But that's the end of that.

I passed a sign for Yaak within minutes after entering Montana and drove right by, down a significant grade that offered me a spot at the top to put on my chains and another to take them off at the bottom. But I've read a lot about the Yaak Valley (Rick Bass is one source), so I turned around and drove back up (without chains) and on another 50 miles to see what it was like. 

The Yaak River is variably a kayaker/adrenaline junkie's paradise and a lazy pond-like slow-moving river, but always beautiful.

I saw a number of deer in the middle of the afternoon but no other wildlife despite signs warning about it.


You know you've arrived at the center of things in the area when you see the Dirty Shame Saloon directly across the road from the Yaak River Tavern. No grocery store. No gas station. One very small school (mascot: the Bobcats). No sign of living persons.

People here are famously private and independent, living without electricity in the coldest of winters. The photo is of a cabin built on the very edge of the Yaak River with a wheel on a pulley that drops it into and pulls it out of the river; it looks like it's used to generate power.

Once back on the way to Kalispell (and back down that impressive grade still without chains, and without snow), I drove in and out of rain for many hours. It was never a downpour but it gets my attention when the speed limit is 70 and I don't know the area.They say Montana is badly in need of rain, and the last photo proves the point.

I stopped for something to eat at R Restaurant in Troy (Steve said I had to stop in Troy), which was passable.


Tomorrow, a first venture into Glacier National Park.