Montana Part 3

After Havre the land becomes flat again and stays that way for some time. Then, in the distance, an oddly isolated small set of significant looking mountains pops up on the horizon. Bill walks by and tells me I'm looking at the Sweetgrass Hills on the Canadian Border twenty five miles away.

During dinner, sometime after 7 PM we reach Cutbank where we first see the Rockies. By 8:30 we are in Browning, MT which according to the Amtrak guide is the site of the largest Native American pow wow in North America and home of the Blackfeet Nation. There is an enormous conical saw dust burner there but I have trouble getting a good picture of this unusual structure.

Since the train is about three hours behind schedule it will be dark soon and I'll miss a lot of the scenery of Glacier Park. I take a few pictures of the approaching mountains through my window but miss the more dramatic photo ops later.

The last picture is Glacier Park Inn.

After that the sun hid behind the mountains and I figured photos wouldn't turn out well. There was enough light for me to appreciate the beauty of tall fir covered slopes and rocky peaks with snow caps.

The ride was thrilling at times when rock walls and outcroppings seemed very close to the tracks as we zipped by.

The train follows the so called "Mystery route" passage through the Rockies sought by Lewis and Clark and later established by John Stevens for the Great Northern. We cross the Continental Divide at the lowest point between Mexico and Canada.

At 9:40 we pass on the outside of a former tunnel. The tracks were rerouted around the outer edge of it. As we go by I can see into the portals that have been partially filled. Even though its getting dark Glacier Park is still beautiful as clusters of black silhouette trees and a silver ribbon river illuminated by a half moon.

At least three trains rip by us in the other direction as we travel through Glacier Park. They are on the opposite side of the train so I don't see them coming. One catches my attention because of repeated high pitched whistles that sound much like bottle rockets that shoot in the air but fail to explode. I look out a window on the left side of the Empire Builder and see the dark shapes of a container train. Our combined speeds must make the cars pass each other at well over a 100 miles an hour. I'm not sure what about the container cars create that whistle but its beautifully eerie at night.

Eventually I can no longer see anything outside so I try to sleep but leave the window curtain open. I doze but wake up to a different sound. We have entered Flathead Tunnel which, at some seven miles long, is the third longest tunnel in North America. I can make out the tunnel wall and every 20 seconds or so a light flashes by. Then, suddenly, we are out and seem to be racing faster then we have anytime before. I feel a little nervous about this speed, perhaps because of my fatigue, but it seems the car is rocking more and feeling every bump of track switches than anytime on the trip. Its unsettling. Looking out the glass while lying down I notice the stars of the Big Dipper perfectly framed in my window. I find this comforting, renew my trust in the train, and fall asleep.