Recalculating or "Are you sure this is the way to Polebridge?"

Warning...lengthy post, but well-worth the read!!

Let's recap....Sunday, August 5th, the Fontana family hiked 2 miles in to Avalanche Lake in Glacier National Park to visit the beautiful lake where a dear family friend's ashes were scattered recently. And if you hike in, you have to hike back out, the same two miles!

After this excursion, the wife and the 2 kids were tired, ready for a nearby lunch and a little retail time in the park gift store. The husband said he had the answer. The family would go to Polebridge. It had shopping and places to eat, the husband assured the hungry group.

In all of the wife's research into interesting towns to visit near Glacier National Park, Polebridge never came up on the radar. The wife, however, was trying to be a good sport, though inside she was itching to get back to "civilization".

The trusty Garmin GPS system told the husband to "turn left in .2 miles". They didn't. The wife asked why and was told the husband wanted to take the scenic route through the park.

"But", the wife protested, "Every road is scenic and so why not just take in a little less scenery to get there faster?"

"Why are you bent on ruining this for me?" asked the husband, sounding slightly irritated.

The wife assured him she was not wanting to ruin anything but was instead hoping to keep 2 kids from complaining any more than they had been. The wife also knew this detour could upset the rest of the plans for the day and being the extreme planner, any deviation was sure to set her off.

So, no matter the wife had a doomed feeling in her gut, the husband continued on. They came to a sign indicating a right turn would lead to Canada. As the husband turned left he asked the wife "Why didn't we plan to go to Canada?".

"I planned on it", the wife retorted, "But you insisted last week you were not interested in going to Canada so I did not pack our passports".

"Oh", the husband said. "Well, now I want to".

The wife made a note to self...never under any circumstances listen to husband's travel opinions again.

The wife could tell the husband didn't know where in the hell he was going. The wife could also tell the Garmin did not know where the hell it was going. The Garmin told him to turn right onto a certain road. He did and this is what the road looked like.

The wife found this internally very funny at the time, though she did not share this with the husband. (The wife would soon find nothing internally or externally humorous).

Looking back, one would wonder "Why did this man not turn around, when, after 30 minutes on the above road, they still had not reached Polebridge? Hmmm.....Good question.

Meanwhile, the Garmin was spitting out instructions and "recalculating" whenever it saw fit. Every road it instructed the husband to turn on had no identifying sign. He turned anyway because there was no other street to take. Correction, these were not streets. They were little more than dirt paths some service vehicle or 4 wheel drive contraption traveled on.

The husband tried to maintain his composure and cheerfulness by stating the family was certain to see wild life at any time. Rest assured the only wild life the husband was going to see was when the wife unleashed on him like a wild boar for getting them lost in a national park!

After an hour, the wife began the decent into a slow mental panic. As she reached for the only food in the car, twinges of guilt crept up. What if this half bag of trail mix was the last bit of nutrition to be divided among four starving souls when the gas tank fizzled to empty? Where
would they find fresh water if she drank the last bottle of Mountain Spring Water? And thank goodness Gabbie bought a blanket at the airport so they could huddle beneath it when night time temperatures dropped to below 40.

It was about this time the wife turned to the husband and asked, "Can I just go ahead and say it now?"

The husband, surprised it took this long for the wife to gloat, hung his head and nodded.

"I told you this was not a good idea!!"

Wow, the wife felt much better.

But feeling better about being right did not bring the family any closer to civilization. And with no cell service, no correct GPS instructions and no directional signs (Polebridge -that-a-way), the husband consulted his trusty map.

Hmmmm, no help.

Another dilemma presented itself when the husband came upon a fork in the road. The wife was reminded of Robert Frosts' immortal poem "The Road Less Traveled":

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Yes, the husband took the road less traveled:

And it did make all the difference when 1 mile later the GPS indicated the road less traveled led to nowhere and he had to back the suburban out because there was no room to turn around.

The children seemed oblivious to the events of the past TWO HOURS and popped up from their iPods to ask, "When are we eating?". " Soon", the wife assured them, sounding immensely unassured.

After more turns and more turn-arounds, the wife decided to pray. Unbeknownst to her, so did the husband. Fifteen minutes later, like a chariot sent from Heaven, a white pick, up appeared, traveling towards the family in the opposite lane. The occupants, a man, his son and their dog, had been huckleberry picking at the end of the dead-end road we were headed down.

Bless this man, for he set the family on the correct course and even escorted them out to the main road (not far might I add).

"Go left", the man said "and it will lead you straight to Polebridge in one mile". The kind man continued, "Take a right and you'll be on your way back to Whitefish" (where the family originated).

"Go right", the wife pleaded, "GO RIGHT!".

"No", said the husband. "After over two hours of trying to find Polebridge, we're so close, we have to go!".

One mile later, this is what the tired, hungry and thirsty family saw:

Home of the famous Polebridge Bakery:
It's a good thing the wife had a large bladder because directions to the bathroom led to an outhouse....seriously. She decided she could wait. And the restaurant that was promised hours ago? Nothing more that what appeared to be a biker bar with hamburgers and beer on the menu.

The husband visited the mercantile store and loaded up on cookies (stale at 6 pm) from the bakery to tide him over until they reached civilization and a restaurant deemed acceptable by the wife. As for the shopping extravaganza that was promised at the beginning of this adventure, the wife purchased a "Polebridge" t-shirt to forever remind her of their near-death experience.

...And they heard her exclaim as they drove out of sight, "You will never, under any circumstances, EVER have free reign to plan a single day of one of our vacations again".