With all this amazing camping, scenery and wildlife, sometimes it’s tough to know what to blog about. You could be forgiven for thinking that with our bumbling ‘caravan’ lifestyle and progression in hobbies from running to hiking to fly fishing, that we are truly middle aged. Time to reverse that thinking with our next adrenaline-packed adventure: Via Ferrata.

Italian for Iron Path, Via Ferrata started in the Dolomites (actually as pathways for the Italian army over the mountains in the First World War) and the number has grown over the last 30 years. It is now popular in many other mountain regions in Europe, primarily as a Summer tourist activity. It’s not yet big in the US however. The Via Ferrata in Teton Village near Jackson, Wyoming, was the first in the US – and is only in its second season, having opened in 2017.

I didn’t have too much in the way of expectations. In fact I really didn’t know quite what to expect at all. I’d seen a picture of a narrow suspension bridge that you had to cross, and that didn’t bother me too much. I’m not afraid of heights, just afraid of falling. So walking with something solid and reliable under my feet is fine, even with a few hundred feet drop below. I thought they would play on the irrational vertigo-induced phobia that many people have, and the Via Ferrata would consist of these narrow suspension bridges along with precarious ledges and steep drops, all while being safely clipped in.

Umm no. Well, not really. Yes there were steep drops, and indeed they do throw in a suspension bridge (more for the photo ops I think) – but what it’s really about is climbing. Climbing up a rock face at the top of a mountain.

A climber I am not. Luckily, this is very much assisted climbing, for those of us who struggle with contemplating the likes of a sheer bare rock face. So it’s not just you vs the mountain, they throw in some iron steps set securely into the rock, and steel cable strung along the route to clip carabiners into. So even that I could cope with. But no. They also throw in random bits in between where there are no iron steps and you have to negotiate the rock face, looking for crevices – basically anywhere suitable to plant a foot or grip with a hand, to give you leverage to climb up to the next out of reach iron rung.

Luckily, we’d opted for the private tour option – just me, Darren and our guide. I brought up the rear – but it was never made to feel like it was a race (kinda happy about that, I would have earned a wooden spoon). I ritually followed our guide’s advice of never having less than 3 points of contact on the rock (out of two hands and two feet). In fact, I frequently went above and beyond in having way more than that, using elbows, knees and bum for contact with the rock. Most ungainly I’m sure, but it worked. Put it this way – I made it through in one piece. I’d even go as far as to say that I enjoyed it.

Via Ferrata : I came. I saw. I conquered.

Would I do it again? Well, rumour has it they’ve just opened a Via Ferrata in Mammoth, so maybe, just maybe, I will.

Kind of feel I earned that beer!

And…. RELAX!!!

Darren suggested breaking up the journey from Glacier NP to Missoula, a college town in Montana, by staying at a mountain bike retreat. Located just outside Whitefish Montana, it serves as a bike rental shop, bike playground and campsite in one. I was bribed with “a bike ride to a brewery, and a camping spot to boot”. OK, I’ve done brewery bike rides before, how hard can it be.

It was actually a cool place to camp – individual spacious camp spots, complete with a bike rack. The finer details were bike-themed, re-using old bike parts in some ingenious way – a bike fork for a campfire poking stick, wheels for camping pitch numbers, pedals for toilet roll holders.

While we were preparing for our bike ride, some deer dropped by to keep us company. Meanwhile, a frenzied woodpecker was head-butting a nearby tree.

I liked the bike I was given. Nice big 29” tyres and even though it wasn’t full suspension, it felt nice and bouncy.

We started with the ‘fun’ on-property trails, which Darren said would be good practice for the ride to the brewery. This turned out to be a set of looped single track trails with banked curves, hazardous drops, and bridges made from single planks of wood. Essentially an obstacle course of steep bits and narrow bits. So of course that didn’t go so well. Darren tried to teach me some basics, but soon got frustrated with my lack of talent and ambition. Better to just bite the bullet and get on with the proper ride.

Having survived and subsequently recovered as I’m writing this, even I would admit it was kinda fun. But my god it was hard. It was all single track which is enough to freak you out by itself. I’m pretty sure I set a new max heart rate on the uphill sections, I could hear the blood pumping in my head with the combination of adrenaline, altitude and general unfit-ness. As for the downhill sections, well – I thought I was going to die. My lungs got to take a bit of a breather but not my heart, that was in my mouth. As for my arms, they took the brunt of it, gripping on to the handlebars as if my life depended on it (which it did).

By the time we got to Bonsai Brewing Project in downtown Whitefish, I was so in need of that beer. I think maybe tomorrow, I’ll do a hike instead!

St Mary campground in east Glacier NP was our home for 3 nights. With a name like Glacier, you expect the weather to be chilly, and it didn’t disappoint. Down to around freezing overnight. I shivered as we walked past a huddled figure sat shivering outside her tent, hunkered down in fleeces and a woolly hat, writing her journal. That could so be me! I officially declare my tent camping days over (at least cold weather tent camping). I wonder if the Basecamp is the single most best thing we’ve ever bought!

Darren braving the elements in a pre-sunrise walk

Nearby St Mary Lake made for a pleasant early morning stroll before we hit the serious hiking. An ideal wildlife spotting location you might think, not another soul around to scare off the animals and we were there at dawn, supposedly the most opportune time. At the very least, a nice morning wake up call, the scenery a prelude of what was still to come.

Nothing doing wildlife-wise but we resolved to go back at the other most opportune time… dusk. Near the lake, we’d spotted a swampy patch of shallow water, lily pads floating idly – totally looked like ideal moose territory. Pretty sure if I was a moose, I’d go there for an evening mooch around.

We were armed with only the most appropriate beer for the mission: Moose Drool, a tasty brown ale, courtesy of Blue Sky brewing. We crept up quietly, sneakily, not wanting to scare the moose away. And we were rewarded with… Ducks. And silence. And no moose. Seems it’s more of a duck hangout than a moose caboose.

Consoling ourselves that it was at least a cool, peaceful spot to enjoy a beer, we heard voices. People. Just a family with a young daughter returning to the car park. And then the kid began to sing. Bob Marley. At the top of her voice and without a care in the world. “Don’t Worry. ‘Bout a Thing. Cos Every Little Thing. Is Gonna Be Alright. (Be Alright).” Moose or no moose, I think she had it right.

Glacier National Park is known for a couple of things – 1. glaciers and 2. wildlife. As is the case globally, the glaciers are dwindling, but a shadow of their former selves. The wildlife however, is thriving. Grizzly bears (oh yes!), black bears (which if you didn’t know can be black, brown or blonde), moose, elk, mountain goats, wolverines (who knew), even wolves. Cool, let’s get out there and look for some bears!

We had done some research in advance, and our hike of choice was to Iceberg Lake in the Many Glacier area of the park. A good chance of seeing bears and icebergs in a lake seemed to tick both boxes. And then we found it was closed. What? Closed? Why? Because of bear activity. What? But we’ve come to see bears! Yes, as if to add insult to injury, the trail was not only closed, it was closed because of bears.

We were pointed in the direction of an alternative walk – the Swiftcurrent Valley, where there was supposedly a good chance of seeing wildlife. Unfortunately, so was everyone else so it wasn’t the quietest of hikes. Still, the scenery was impressive, especially around Bullhead Lake.

We kept our eyes peeled for bears but nada, nothing, zilch. Of course, they’re all playing around on the Iceberg Lake trail! Other hikers jingle jangled as they walked with their bear bells tinkling, sounding like a herd of reindeer. Yet others walked with cans of bear spray in their hands, ready to attack at any moment (or more likely spray themselves in the face). They needn’t have worried – any trail I’m walking on is virtually guaranteed to have no bears.

Back in the car park, there was a bit of a kerfuffle as a small crowd gathered around a spotting scope. We went to see what all the fuss was about – and high up on the mountainside (mere specks, but moving specks and visible through binoculars or the scope) was a grizzly mother and her two cubs. Lesson learned – if you want to spot bears, your best chance is in the car park.

Brown speck on the left is mama Grizzly. Blonde speck on the right is one of the cubs.