On the road: Montana, part 3
On the southern shore of Flathead Lake: Finley Point. A natural paradise.
Still in northwest Montana, which has taken a liking to me. To be more precise, I’m near Polson, on the southern edge of Flathead Lake – the “Bodensee” (Lake Constance) of Montana. My stay is coming to an end. But I still get two wonderful parting gifts. On one of the last evenings was another “Alpine glow”, as I had already experienced near Columbia Falls: the sky takes a bath in shades of pink to purple. In the west it glowed like red-hot iron. And it was full moon.
I am at Finley Point, a headland on the eastern shore of the lake. From the living room, I can see directly onto Flathead Lake. My favorite spot is the sofa, from where I watch the lake, the water and the waves change depending on the weather. Calm or rough, friendly and warm or grayish and cold. A different picture every day. Sometimes I am almost overwhelmed by the sight. For example, when the sun’s rays turn golden on the mountain peaks in the late afternoon. Even in the rain and fog, the view across the water to the northern shore, where the Rocky Mountains of Glacier National Park rise up, gives me a feeling of vastness, freedom and hope. Energy. Mental stimulation to work on my notebook. I can breathe freely. In the beginning, however, there was pain when Charlotte, the sweet dog with the sad eyes, was put down. Her owners had been unable to postpone her journey, so it was up to me to take her to the clinic for the operation, where we all hoped the doctor would only find something benign. Unfortunately, things turned out differently. I can still see Charlotte looking after me as I left her at the vet clinic. When I walk the paths that I walked with her, even if only a few times, I am still often overcome with sadness.
As most of the houses here at Finley Point are unoccupied in the off-season, I have free rein. I can walk along the private paths, go to the end of the boat moorings, hear the water gurgling there and look across the expanse of water to the island in the middle of the lake. Every day I set off to discover something new. Stroll along the pebble beach. Climb up the cliffs and down the other side to a small bathing bay. There is a lonely bench on a cliff. One has been tilted onto the backrest to hibernate, its cast-iron feet stretching into the air like antennae. When the weather was nice, it was still so warm at midday in November that I could sit on my favorite spot, a rocky outcrop, eyes closed, daydreaming in the sun. What a luxury.
Flathead Lake in northwest Montana is almost as large as Lake Constance in Germany, and is the largest freshwater lake west of the Mississippi. The southern half of the lake, and thus Finley Point, is on the reservation of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes. I was told that they are very clever at sending their young people to college and then employing them in the tribe’s two very successful IT and electrical companies. The tribal administration also controls the dam that regulates the water level of Flathead Lake. Because the tribes do not allow hunting on their reservation, the deer are so tame that some animals come within arm’s length. I never go for a walk or drive without seeing at least a dozen deer and stags.
The famous big juicy Flathead cherries grow in countless cherry tree plantations around Flathead Lake. Unfortunately, I arrived two months too late for them. The fall only allows me to admire the orange leaves along the lake. And only for the first few days, because then it suddenly gets cold and the landscape transforms – for a week – into a winter fairytale forest.
The entire area around Flathead Lake is a popular tourist destination in both summer and winter: you can hike, swim, boat and water ski. Or in winter, strap on snowshoes, enjoy the mountains while cross-country skiing or have fun in a hot spring. The ski area north of the lake with the small towns of Kalispell and Whitefish is an hour’s drive away, and Glacier National Park is just half an hour’s drive further. The small town of Polson here at the southern end of the lake is less touristy. Many people move here from Kalispell and Whitefish because the rents and real estate prices are less expensive.
At the Good Coffee Roasting Company, a café on Main Street, I buy a whole wheat sourdough bread every week that could have come from an oven in Germany. And in “Mrs. Wonderful’s Cafe”, a cozy, Italian-inspired restaurant, you can dine in organic quality. “Mrs. Wonderful”, Mary Frances Caselli, the owner, did not miss the opportunity to serve non-vaccinated people during the Covid period.
And then, about 15 miles further south, there is the Red Poppy in the neighbouring village of Ronan. Formerly the site of the local art association, it is now home to the Western Montana Musicians Cooperative. One of only a handful of its kind in the USA. I read about it in the Missoulian, the local weekly newspaper. And that the cooperative will be celebrating its fourth anniversary at the Red Poppy in early November. Of course I’m going.
When I get there, I’m amazed: instead of a small off-stage, I find spacious premises with high-quality stage equipment. There are lots of old vinyl records, record covers and black and white photos of famous musicians hanging on the walls next to the old-fashioned bar.
The instruments on stage range from guitar to drums, keyboard to violin and banjo – financed by membership fees and donations, giving young musicians in particular the chance to practice. But professionals also rehearse here. At weekends, the stage is free for amateur bands and jams, where also 80-year-old thoroughbred musicians play with young talents. The concept obviously works: Local business people and private individuals donate to the anniversary celebration. The presenter announces more than once that another 1000 dollars have been donated. The collective plans to offer music, singing and dance courses in the near future.
The atmosphere is relaxed, most people know each other. The room is packed until late in the evening. Chairs are even placed on the dance floor. Unfortunately. This leaves us less room to dance. We don’t let this spoil our enjoyment and dance the night away – a 70s disco ball floating above our heads. How I have missed dancing since Berlin!
The bands playing from 3 pm until after midnight are all professionals. Guitarist Don Techner has been playing with world-famous singer Rod Steward since the 1970s. Another old stage hand is blues musician Andre Floyd. He accompanies the band “Highway 93” (named after the highway that runs along the western shore of Flathead Lake) for one song this evening. Their young frontman, Joe Martinez, with the throaty voice, first learned to play the guitar at the Red Poppy. Now he performs everywhere. (Video ©Karen Paul)
The surprise of the evening for me, however, are the female fronters of two bands. What voices! The singer from “Mojo Rising” sounds like a reincarnation of Janis Joplin. (Video ©Rebecca Hillauer)
And the frontwoman of “National Remedy” with her waist-length dreadlocks could easily rival Amy Winehouse. (Video ©Karen Paul)
At the end, those musicians who had stuck it out until then, get together for a jam session, including a female drummer (!). And the following weekend, this time in Polson, I was dancing under another disco ball.
This story was first published in German on my website.