Days 3 & 4: Glaciers, Gravel, and the Great Boot Betrayal

If someone had told me that days three and four of our trip would include a near-generator crisis, a surprise size check at a national park entrance, four moose encounters, and a pair of hiking boots that quite literally fell apart at the seams; I would have said, “Sounds about right for a Reba adventure.” And I would not have been wrong.

Sunday Morning: Crisis, Coffee, and the Lord Himself

Day three kicked off with a plot twist before we’d even had breakfast. After boondocking at the goat farm, our generator battery was about as lively as a Monday morning meeting. For those who don’t know, that generator is the lifeblood of Reba’s two slide-outs. No generator, no slides. No slides, no living room or bedroom. No bedroom… well, let’s just say Todd was highly motivated to fix the situation.

And fix it he did. In true MacGyver fashion, Todd borrowed power from the engine battery to get things running again. Crisis averted. Slides deployed. Marriage preserved.

With Reba back in business, we made our way to morning Mass at St. Jude’s, a beautiful, historic little church just a few miles down the road. There’s something deeply grounding about starting a big adventure day with a little spiritual perspective.

Which made it all the more… interesting… that for every few miles we drove through Montana afterward, there was approximately one casino glittering on the horizon. I’m not saying there’s irony in going straight from church to a landscape dotted with slot machines, but if I had a dollar for every casino we spotted, I could comfortably retire this month. 

Montana: Big Sky, Big Cattle, and a Whole Lot of History

Montana is vast. The kind of vast that makes you feel small in the best possible way. Sweeping fields stretched endlessly in every direction so much farmland, pastureland, horses, cattle. You could almost imagine the enormous herds of buffalo that once thundered across these same plains.

We hugged the northern border along the U.S.-Canada line, through the old corridor of the Great Northern Railway. Tiny railroad towns dotted the route as weathered, quiet, and clearly bearing the marks of harder economic times. We also passed through a large Indigenous reservation, and it was impossible not to feel the weight of history in that landscape. Roaming dogs, junkyards, and worn-down roads painted a sobering picture that sat with us long after we passed through.

But then the glaciers appeared and the landscape dramatically changed and shouted, "Welcome to Glacier National Park!" It was mid-afternoon, as we rolled up to the east entrance of Glacier National Park, and those mountains and glaciers greeted us like old friends we’d never met. Dramatic. Majestic. Absolutely stunning.

Our first stop was St. Mary’s where Reba received some rather unwelcome news. Apparently, Glacier National Park has opinions about vehicle size. And Reba, bless her adventurous soul, did not meet the requirements for many of the park’s roads. Now, I don’t know what to call this. Maybe, length discrimination? Altitude shaming? Whatever it was, Reba felt it deeply. She has the heart of a nimble little trail-hopper trapped in the body of a full-sized RV, and she will not apologize for that.

Despite her 24 (instead of 21 ) foot limitation, we made it six glorious miles along the famous Going-to-the-Sun Road, and those six miles were worth every inch. St. Mary's Lake stopped us dead in our tracks with a color of turquoise so vivid and pure it would make the Caribbean feel insecure. Here’s the science behind the magic: that brilliant blue comes from glacial flour or the fine minerals shed, as glacier ice melts and carries sediment down into the streams, rivers, and lakes below. Which brings us to the bittersweet part. Geologists predict that the glaciers ice in this park will likely be gone within the next decade. Gone. Forever. It’s a sobering thought standing there in their shadow, knowing you may be among the last generations to see them. Even more reason that we are thrilled to have come when we did.

Many Glacier: Lederhosen, Lakes, and a Little Luck

Not ones to be deterred, we soon pointed Reba north toward the Many Glacier entrance where the park immediately tested her mettle with miles of gravel road and craters that politely called themselves potholes. We’d been warned, thankfully, and had battened down every cabinet inside like we were prepping for a minor earthquake. Reba rattled. She groaned. She persevered.

We pulled up to the Most Unexpectedly Charming Lodge of the Trip, a stunning Swiss-style building, impeccable craftsmanship, and staff dressed head-to-toe in German lederhosen. Were they Swiss? German? Wonderfully confused? We may never know. But the lodge was absolutely gorgeous, and we didn’t ask questions.

Here’s where Mom must have been smiling down on us from above: we walked up to board a lake cruise — two lakes, two hikes — with zero reservations on a completely booked boat. And somehow, somehow, we got on. I’ll take that as a divine wink from the heavens. The cruise and hikes that followed were nothing short of spectacular.

Camp Casey, Firewood Famine, and the Great Campfire That Wasn’t

Our home base for the next two nights was Casey’s RV Park; a fresh, well-kept spot with a lovely bathhouse and shiny new fire rings at every single campsite. Beautiful rings. Very promising rings.

Rings with no firewood.

Ever the resourceful campers, we headed into town on a firewood mission. Stop after stop came up empty. At one point, a store clerk (with what I can only describe as misplaced optimism) suggested we just go into the woods and get our own. Ha!

We did not bring a saw.

We did not have a campfire.

We stared sadly at our the fire ring. It stared back. It was a whole thing.

Day Four: Moose Madness and the Boot That Broke Our Hearts

Morning arrived and we were off to the Two Medicine entrance of Glacier and what a morning it was. The hikes here delivered scenery that made every sore muscle worth it, but the real stars of the show? Moose. Four of them. Four! On one hike! It was practically a moose convention out there. Did you know moose are excellent swimmers? They can dive up to 20 feet underwater to munch on vegetation at the bottom of lakes. Twenty feet!

And now, we must have a moment of silence.

For the boots.

My North Face hiking shoes (not cheap, I want that noted for the record) had carried me through gravel, mud, and water all day… and then simply gave up. Not a slow deterioration. Not a gradual loosening of a sole. They broke off in chunks. Like they had somewhere else to be.

I am drafting a firmly worded email to North Face as you read this.

The silver lining? I am a prepared camper. I brought backup shoes; a trusty pair of Merrill's waiting patiently in the RV like the loyal understudies they are. Please keep them in your prayers. They have big (broken) boots to fill.

The Verdict on Days 3 & 4

Glacier National Park is one of those places that makes you feel genuinely lucky to be alive and breathing and able to witness it. Even with a size-limited RV, a firewood drought, and one spectacular boot failure, these two days were filled with the kind of beauty and spontaneous joy that remind you exactly why you hit the road in the first place.

Reba may not fit on every road in Glacier. But she fits perfectly in our story.

More adventures to come as we travel to the Westside of GNP for the next 3 days! 🏔️