Tour #2. Hey batter.  Swing.  Line drive and safe on second.

After a lackluster first tour, I’m tired and very unsure.  Kind of like when I committed last summer to 62 days of hiking.  After the first three-four days, I was very doubtful if my body was going to follow my mind.  After all, when you go big or go home, not all of those dreams come true.

We Jammers don’t know what tours we are doing in advance.  Every afternoon around 3-4 pm, an email comes out with the next day’s assignment.  That is normally around the time you are finishing up the day yakking at strangers, or gassing and washing your bus. 

You pull out that cell phone and look for the email.  Kind of like Xmas every afternoon.  It is going to be a stocking full of wonderful delights or a lump of coal.  Mine was somewhat in between.

Along with Group Tours, there is the famed Crown of the Continent.  This is the all-day 8-hour investment into engaging with strangers or getting shut out and having a very long and very bad day.  A totally all-or-nothing tour.  This time of year (late June), the East side version of this is going from Many Glacier to Babb, to St Mary, and over Logan Pass to Lake McDonald.  Whew.  And THEN back.  Everyone loves Logan Pass X2.

But with the pass still closed, the alternative route is Many to Babb, back to St Mary, up the Sun Road to where it is closed, down to East Glacier (lunch), stop at Two Medicine, and then burn that last hour plus of nothingness up to St Mary to repeat and drop off at Many.  Oh, and there is road construction on Hwy 89, so add a half hour of waiting for the pilot car in very very awkward silence.

Yeah, that is what I got for my second day.  It felt like kind of a make-or-break thing.  These days can run a minimum of ten hours and sometimes over twelve for the driver, from pre-trip to post-clean and parking for the night.  And if you do over twelve hours, there is an exhausting form you have to fill out for the DOT, which seems to happen more than it should.  What the hell?  Bring it on.

So I had to start thinking about this independent tour thing. I’m pretty much all alone for a very long day with 16 strangers on a bus route.  The first thing is to learn the route, know the stops, make the times and keep on them, and get all the kids to school and then home safely.  They don’t have to be happy.  And keep in mind my own personal motto when they complain:  I owe you transportation, not comfort.  That works with middle schoolers, so should be good with adults.

I think I worked the St Mary Valley well.  Was able to get into spots to park, talk about the flora and fauna, and hit some geology.  Personal experience in these mountains was always a help.  Made it easier to answer more details questions about the park as well as throw in some antidotal insight and humor.  But keeping an eye on the time was my real nemesis.

The stretch between St Mary and East Glacier is the worst.  Nothing to really see for that 30 miles of slow and rough highway.  Sure, there is Red Blanket Butte where a Blackfeet tribe discovered they had smallpox and all died, but I think that’s one better kept in the guidebook.  At least my tours.  I was able to pour out some dialog on Shultz and Grinnell, two of the key players in the eventual formation of GNP.  Not too many people fell asleep.

Post lunch at EGPL, it was the long grind home.  No more Going to the Sun Road.  Just get everyone home in the next couple of hours.  I did a nice little stop in Two Medicine Area.  Had the group walk down to Running Eagle Falls which is now really flowing. 

They got to skip stones like little kids, and we even had a doe walk out of the forest and pose in front of the falls for us.  Of course, when she squatted and took a two-minute pee in the river for 50 assorted tourists, that’s when the crowd went wild. 

And I tried to remember if I packed my water filter for hiking this summer.

Also did a stop at the famed and quirky Two Medicine Camp Store (the actual building is the last remnant of the former GNRR chalet complex from 1915).  I met the two seasonal rangers there assigned for the summer.  First Strike is Blackfeet, speaks five languages, and has to be one of the funniest, most personable, and most engaging personalities I have met for a long time.  And that is saying something.  Jeni was equally personable, being a maybe 20-ish AZ transplant there for the summer that could best be described as the quintessential Girl Next Store with that wonderfully quiet Mary Ann charm.

My guest got to see mountain sheep up on the cliffs, and enjoy the lake and got a real kick out of it when I backed over the Jammer Parking Only sign and got it wedged under the gas tank of the bus.  I was able to get the mangled sign and the orange cone it was attached to unhooked and leaned against the building (which I DID NOT hit). Almost got away unnoticed.  Until of course Jeni tapped on my passenger side window, holding up the bent-up sign, smiled, and said:  ‘Dave, you have left your mark on Two Medicine.’  The crowd went wild.  The home team scores.

On the long trip back I passed the time with some solid dialog on Louis Hill of the GNRR, the Don Holmes years as the GNP concessionaire (pre-GPI), then an in-depth piece on Steven Mather.  Finally wrapping up with the history of the NPS and the continual conflict of the dual mandate to conserved and provide public access for enjoyment.

Five miles out I was tired of talking and pretty sure I had droned them to sleep.  So ended it with my best Forrest Gump version of: “I’m tired.  I’m gonna go home now.” With a touch of “That’s all I’m gonna say about that.”  I got applause and laughter from the peanut gallery.  All had not been in vain.

The big drop-off and a lot of handshakes, smiles, and appreciation.  I’ve never had a tipping job before.  The whole secret handshake and money thing are new to me.  I kept wanting to pull out a dime bag of some kind of dope and secretly pass it back. 

Sure, at the end of the day, I kind of felt like a totally spent prostitute with a fistful of twenties that wanted a shower and a cold beer.  But it was a good feeling.  Like I had been heard and enjoyed and had given people more than they expected.  I even took a picture of my first full-day bus tour people.

All I needed to do now was gas and wash the bus before I fall asleep in a room with two guys snoring and farting.  How I wish that was a euphonium for something (anything) else.

Yeah.  If someone pours themselves into this whole seasonal tour thing, it can really take a lot out of you physically, mentally, and emotionally.  On par with hiking, actually.  Only you don’t have to worry about being mauled by a bear.

I think I’ve got this.