“There are mountains,” I was assured as my first day in Kalispell, Montana, and the Flathead Valley dawned so gray that it felt like a wintry blanket had been pulled over it. I would obviously have to wait for the great peaks and the multitude of wilderness activities that the region promised to reveal themselves.
Over the next three days, the plan was to go snowmobiling deep into the Glacier backcountry, snowshoe on the banks of the Flathead River, and bundle up for a jingle-bell ride in a two-horse open sleigh.
