Where to Stay When You Visit Glacier National Park

I had to shoot up to Whitefish, Montana this week for business.  I didn't intend to blog about it, because, trust me, it would make for boring reading material, but my lodgings stole my heart, so here I am.

My good friend Becki had mentioned to me at some point that she had an aunt who owned a bed & breakfast in Whitefish.  Becki is one of the coolest people I know, and I figure there's a good chance coolness runs in families, so I stored the info in my long-term memory for future contingencies like this one.  Sure enough, when it came time to hunt up somewhere to stay for a couple of days, against the advice of my colleagues, I turned down a room in one of the only four-star resorts in the entire state of Montana and chose instead to stay with Aunt Julie and Uncle Dick.

I made the right choice.

I arrived about 11 PM after a long flight.  Note: Delta Airlines' Orlando to Salt Lake City route bears more than a passing resemblance to Disney's Big Red Boat, in terms of clientele. Both directions.  Worthy of consideration when purchasing tickets.  Unless, of course, one prefers to spend four hours in the air accompanied by a nonstop chorus of pint-sized howls and yowls.  Although, in the interests of full disclosure, all of the travel-weariness vanished in an instant when I stepped off of that plane in Kalispell, only to be slapped in the face with a rush of bracing, ice-cold air and the unmistakable, heavenly fragrance of wood smoke.

But I digress.  I arrived about 11 PM and was greeted by Uncle Dick, who showed me to my spacious room on the ground floor.  As I told my hosts, I tend to pack a little heavier when I plan to stay at B&B's - my experience has taught me that one never quite knows what one will find - the spectrum ranges from four-star luxury to quite...rustic, shall we say.  I needn't have bothered, this time.  Aunt Julie thought of everything, from necessities like hair dryer, clothes iron and toiletries, to luxuries like bathrobe, jetted tub, mini fridge and even a gas-powered fireplace.  Of course, the little crystal dish of pecan-stuffed dates and homemade truffles waiting by my bedside table won my heart immediately.

I slept like a baby, and rose the next morning to the sounds and smells of breakfast.  Oh, and what a breakfast that was.  (Keep in mind, being mid-January is Glacier's off-season, I was the inn's only guest for my entire stay.)  I sipped coffee (my choice of heavy cream or half-and-half) at a lovely table set with fresh flowers, cloth napkins and a carafe of ice water with lemons and fresh mint, overlooking a snowy winter wonderland.  Aunt Julie started breakfast with a tasty apple crumble topped with lemony cream (Life is short!  Eat dessert first!) and then, once I'd had time to enjoy that, placed a plate overflowing with scrambled egg-stuffed poblano pepper, fresh hashbrowns, sliced avocado, and all of the trimmings in front of me.  Every bite was delicious, and I was disappointed that I couldn't finish it all (which is saying something, coming from this piglet).

Granted, breakfast was interrupted at one point when I looked up and happened to notice some "lawn ornaments" that I hadn't noticed a few minutes before.  "Oh," Aunt Julie said, "they're here for their breakfast, too", so I of course had to pause and watch while she went outside and handed out morning victuals to a small herd of deer and a flock of turkeys.  May I point out that this is not an everyday occurrence where I live?

After a long day spent taking care of business, it was such a relief to pull up to the house, its lights glowing welcome, sip on the cup of coffee Uncle Dick brewed up for me, and sit chatting with my hosts around the dining room table.  My line of work can be emotionally exhausting at times, with its giant-sized egos and high-stakes interactions, (although, to be fair, the Montana guys aren't as bad as some, and one of them is downright lovable - do you suppose their environment has anything to do with that?) and after a day spent in a constant state of mental high-alert, spending time with real, down-to-earth, goodhearted folks is a downright luxury.  Of course, the smoked salmon dip and crackers awaiting me in my room didn't hurt either.

The next morning, Aunt Julie served me homemade quinoa crepes filled with fresh fruit and topped with whipped coconut creme.  And this time, I got to feed the animals!  (This was a huge treat for this comparatively citified country-girl-at-heart.)

Needless to say, my eight-year-old nephew was very impressed with this photo.

After a quick tour of the house, it was time to load up and head back towards the airport and home.

To say that I enjoyed my stay would be an understatement.  Not only were my accommodations the very picture of comfort, it was such a treat to spend time with a gentle, soft-spoken lady who simply exudes hospitality and the love of Jesus.  It isn't often that one has a chance to stay in a place where one feels less like a guest and more like a family member, and I treasured that experience.

I did get a grand tour of the afore-mentioned four-star resort, and for those who like their lodgings to come with front desks and lobbies, I would recommend it.  The family that owns and runs it knows their stuff, and, from what I can see, they run a high-class operation.  I doubt, though, that their accommodations come with homemade bedside treats, that their breakfasts are accompanied by heartfelt conversations about life and our Lord, and that their guests are given a warm hug goodbye.

For those who, like me, consider these things some of the very finest things in life, my suggestion would be to stay at Julie's Country Manor.

Oh, and why would a person bother visiting this neck of the woods anyway, one might ask?  Well, we had a couple of extra hours mid-afternoon, and my incredibly gracious business associate offered to drive me out to the park (Glacier, that is).  This is what I saw.  Of course, the pictures don't even begin to do justice to the real thing.  So, yeah.