It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. But now as we huddled in the tent listening
to the wind howling through the treetops, we questioned the wisdom of our plans. Suddenly, the air was split with a resounding
crack and, after what seemed an eternity, a ground-shaking thud as an ancient
giant of these northern woods gave in to the wind’s brutal force and the
relentless pull of the earth. It was but
one of many that would surrender during this long, bitter night in a place
where death and destruction are but a part of the cycle of life. We were outsiders in this land. Interlopers, if you will, wanting to
experience the beauty and majesty of Glacier, but not the stark reality of the
elements that mold it to their will.
After several years of unsuccessful attempts of scoring a
permit in the annual lottery, we were determined that this would be the year we
would do the Northern Loop at Glacier National Park. The coveted Northern Loop is the greatest
loop within perhaps the greatest of the national parks. The loop covers 55 miles of the most rugged
and remote area of Glacier. It is also a very difficult permit to get. While parts of the loop have an abundance of
campgrounds and campsites, the western edge of the loop has one campground that
virtually every group needs to pass through.
Within this campground, only two sites are able to be reserved
beforehand. Our efforts in previous years
had failed so this time we went all in.
We would accept any route, any time in September, a risky proposition in
a park where snow is a possibility 12 months of the year and the backpacking
trails are only accessible for a few months each season. The park begins to shut down in the middle of
September as the chance for inclement weather at the higher elevations
grows. This year, however, our tenacity
and flexibility were rewarded with a permit for six nights beginning on
Thursday, September 17th. We
were to take a clockwise route starting from the Loop on Going to the Sun Road.
In spite of our good fortune in snagging such a coveted
agenda, Tom and I struggled to find equally enthusiastic compatriots. Some were “too busy”, others were too
married. In the end, we were able to
enlist a new backpacker who we will refer to as “Eric” to protect his
identity. “Eric” had taken a shorter
trip in his past and fit our criteria of having enough vacation time, finances
and either sense of adventure or naiveté.
Either is satisfactory initially.
 |
| The Golf Resort |
I arrived early in the afternoon on Wednesday which allowed
time to pick up some last minute supplies and do a little sightseeing. I picked up our rental vehicle at Enterprise
and was all prepared for the final question from the customer service
person. When he asked if there was
anything else he could for me, I inquired if they happened to have any bear
spray we could use. Sure enough, he was
able to find three canisters, thus earning him a shout-out in the story. That was an extra $150 we would not have to
spend! We were beginning our adventure
with a last dose of luxury by staying at a golf resort, which also happened to
be the cheapest option available. The desk
clerks seemed unfamiliar with backpacking and Glacier and seemed concerned that
we would spend a week there. I guess
living in the shadow of such a place of natural beauty doesn’t guarantee that you
are interested in it. After checking in,
I drove south of the park in an attempt to see the ravages of the forest fires
that had swept the region early in the summer.
Although in the proper area, I did not see evidence of the fires, at
least partly because I had to pay too much attention to the winding road with a
75 mph speed limit. I did, however, see
a small herd of elk in a field by the road before turning around. Tom arrived on a later flight from Arizona and
Eric on a flight after midnight coming from Chicago via Seattle. The pricing of airline flights is something I
will never understand.
Day 1: September 17
The highly recommended Night Owl for breakfast was our
choice for our last real meal for the next week. As always, it was our second best meal of the
trip, surpassed only by the post-hike celebratory dinner. Then it was on to the park. My first mistake of the trip occurred at the
ranger station. As we were getting our
permit, I was not paying attention to Tom’s conversation with the ranger. As a result, we ended up with a revised
agenda that was longer and harder, but more “scenic” pushing our total mileage
for the trip to 60. After watching the
obligatory safety video where they tell you to enjoy the wildlife, but do
everything possible to scare the wildlife away, we finalized our permit and
headed into the heart of the park.
The weather was beautiful as we bid farewell to our vehicle
at the Loop on Going to the Sun Road (GTTSR), hoping it would still be there
unharmed when we returned in a week. At
times there have been problems with vandalism and theft against backpackers’
vehicles as they wait patiently for their owners return. We were able to get another tourist to take
our traditional beginning of the trip picture as we all looked fresh and
confident. Unfortunately the background
of the picture is quite poor by Glacier standards, showing a burned-out area
from a forest fire many years before. In
fact, the area looked very similar to what it looked like five years ago when
we hiked at this exact spot. The forest
rejuvenates itself, but at its own pace, not ours.
 |
| The Before Picture (me, "Eric", and Tom) |
 |
| Granite Park campground , 1st night |
The hike up to our first campground was, well, up. We started at just over 4,000 feet of
elevation and gained 2,153 feet over the four miles up to the Granite Chalet
campground. While not carrying the
heaviest packs of our lives, weights were all in the mid 30’s. There are no resupply options on this route
so we had all our food, plus the normal gear and clothing options. Although the weather forecast was favorable,
this is not a place to be surprised.
Carrying a few extra layers is prudent.
We were the first ones to arrive at the campground which is a very
popular one on the trial, being strategically located at the intersection of
two major trails and only a short hike from two of the more popular parking
areas on GTTSR. This was the one
campground that our initial reservation did not have. As the first to arrive, we had our pick of
the five campsites. All were relatively
good, but the one we chose had a bit more privacy although it was the closest
to the privy. I had expected better
accommodations based on the popularity of the campground, but the privy was
quite open to view with no walls or enclosure.
It was basically a toilet seat on a wood box almost out of sight of the
nearest tents. As we pitched our tents
and hung our food on the bear pole, other backpackers began showing up. One couple was from France. They had quit their jobs and were spending a
year traveling. They had come across
Canada and were now heading down through the US and on through to South
America. They had not reserved a
campsite for the night and were hoping either to hitchhike out of the park or
find an open spot in this campground. It
seems it is not atypical for non-American backpackers to visit the parks this
way. The risk is that a ranger could
come by and upon finding that they do not have a permit require them to
immediately pack up and hike out regardless of the time of day or night. It’s a risk I wouldn’t want to take and it
seems quite inconsiderate of those who follow the guidelines. Having secured our spot and equipment, we set
out for a side hike up the mountain.
 |
| Granite Park Chalet |
We hiked up to Granite Park Chalet which was closed for the
season. The area is famous as one of the
locations of the Night of the Grizzlies slayings. On August 12, 1967 two grizzlies attacked and
killed backpackers in Glacier. One of
the attacks was in a campsite by the Chalet.
Perhaps the very one we were staying in!
Much has been learned about grizzlies since then, but it still gives you
pause when you are right there. From
there we hiked along the Highline Trail to the Garden Wall Trail which climbs
to an overlook peering into the heart of Glacier from 7,500 feet. As we sat out of the wind enjoying the view
of Grinnell Glacier and other formations, we spied a forgotten glove on a
snowbank just below us. Tom foolishly
decided to attempt a rescue and the only thing I could think of was how we
would explain the tragic accident to his family, his broken body recovered some
days later by a team led by Lunchbox the Cadaver Dog. Fortunately my worst fears were unfounded as
the glove was safely corralled and packed away to be disposed of properly. We radically support Leave No Trace
guidelines.
 |
| Glaciers from the Garden Wall Trail |
We returned from our
rather exhausting hike to find all the other campsites taken. As the sun descended, so did the temperature. We all huddled in the cooking area preparing
supper. It was an interesting
group. Charleton, from Houston, was an older
out-going oil man who made sure everyone knew who everyone else was. His wife did not share his enthusiasm for
backpacking, so he would travel by himself.
However, as he pointed out to anyone who asked him about going by
himself, he was not really by himself.
He is the type of guy who doesn’t know a stranger. There was also a young couple from New York
City and another couple who offered to share their campsite with Julian and
Lisa, the French couple who were not able to get a ride out of the park. The campground was wooded and inhabited by
some wildlife. While we did not see any
bears, we did see some grouse hanging around.
After a rather long exhausting day, we turned in around 9:00 having
stored our food on the bear pole and stowed our packs in vestibule of our tent
to protect it from any other small critters that might be interested in
exploring them. Eric and I would share
my “3-man” tent and Tom had his solo tent.
All in all it had been a good day.
About midnight I was awakened to the sound of huffing and my
pack being drug out of the vestibule!
Instantly I was wide awake with a dozen thoughts flying through my
head. It’s a bear! What do I do?
Where’s my bear spray? Can you
use bear spray in a tent? Do I pretend
to be asleep? If I make noise will it go
away or will it attack? Where’s my bear
spray? If I yell will anybody come
rescue us, or will they stay silent and hope the bear goes away, thankful that
it didn’t choose their tent? Why isn’t
Eric awake? Where’s my headlamp? Where are my glasses? Where’s my bear spray? I need to out of my sleeping bag! I don’t have my clothes on, I can’t get out
of my sleeping bag! The bear doesn’t
care whether I have my clothes on or not!
Why isn’t anyone else awake?
WHERE’S MY BEAR SPRAY?
As I quickly ran through my courses of action eliminating
the ones with a significant probability of ending with, “and the bear dragged
the mutilated corpse of his prey into the woods,” Eric began to stir and I
located my headlamp. There is some
dispute about what happened in the next few seconds. Eric remembers awaking to frantically
incoherent babbling about bears, death and missing pants. I, on the other hand, remember Eric not comprehending
my clear, concise assessment of the situation and recommended course of
action. Obviously Eric was still half
asleep. Outside, the bear, its stealth
attack discovered, retreated to cover, fearing the fury of the tent’s
inhabitants. There did seem to be
something unusual about the retreating footsteps, but at the time I was focused
on putting on my glasses and headlamp so I could find my bear spray. Having located all the necessary defenses and
finally getting Eric to understand the situation, I carefully unzipped the tent
and fly and peered out into the darkness of a moonless night. Whether I was wanted to see the eyes
reflecting the light from my headlamp or not is still up for debate, but I was
somewhat relieved to see nothing. I
pulled my pack back into the vestibule, closed up the tent and spent the rest
of the night in a state of light, fitful sleep.
Cumulative miles: 4.2
Day 2: September 18
 |
| The Terrifying Midnight Deer of Granite Park |
We woke to cloudy morning with a hint of sunlight. The terror of the previous night, however,
had not been imagined. Every tent had
received a visit similar to ours. Although
it turned out to not be a bear, it was an ever-dangerous rogue deer. Salt deprived, the deer wanted to lick the
sweat-soaked straps of the backpacks. It
was evidently a struggle to get to the straps under the rain fly, hence the
huffing noise. I also realized the sound
of the deer’s retreating steps did sound more like hooves than paws. Some of the other hikers had been warned
about this particular deer which has acquired quite a reputation in the park. It was one of the worst-looking deer I have
seen.
Our journey for the day was a challenging one so early in
the trip. This is the day we would do
the extra two miles from the changed agenda.
We took the Highline trail north, which is also part of the Continental
Divide Trail, connecting Mexico and Canada through the heart of the Rockies, an
impressive 3,100 miles. The scenery was
diminished by the overcast skies and would have been spectacular on a sunny
day. Since this day was cold, rainy and
windy, the scenery was just average.
Primarily alpine tundra, there were occasional wooded areas which we
headed into with calls of “Hey Bear” not wanting to surprise any roaming
grizzlies. It was a wonderful time to be
in Glacier. The aspens were turning a
bright yellow, offsetting the dark green of the pine trees and the grey stone
of the mountain. Our path was fairly
level, running along the contour lines of our map. We crossed several small waterfalls cascading
down the slope, but saw no wildlife. We
did meet some backpackers coming the other way who had seen several grizzles
and some moose as well on the other side of the pass where we would be in a
couple of days.
The first day of our trip, everything was fresh and new,
sunny and warm. On the second day,
reality set in with less favorable weather following a rough night. While relatively flat with elevation gains of
1,910 feet and losses of 1,780, the 11.9 mile length was challenging. Some disagreement arose during the day as to
the correct interpretation of the map.
One of us thought we were almost to the campground while someone else
thought we had quite a ways to go.
Unfortunately, the pessimistic view held out as the last 2 miles of the
trail took about 3 hours, or so it seemed.
As the day wore on “optimistic Jeff” and “pessimistic Tom” vanished
never to be seen again in these parts, as we reverted to our usual roles for
the rest of the trip.
 |
| Approach to Fifty Mountain Campground |
Fifty Mountain campground at the end of Highline Trail was a
welcome sight. We were disappointed that
we were the third group to arrive, but for some reason the others had chosen
their sites poorly, enabling us to claim what was easily the best and most
sheltered site. The campground was quite
open with only a few trees breaking up the alpine tundra. Unlike the first night, the groups at this
campground were not very friendly. There
was one hiker from Utah who we talked with, but the others were not interested
in conversation. Perhaps the weather and
especially the wind was a factor. Some
of the groups appeared to include more inexperienced backpackers. We experienced several firsts among this
group. Never before had we run across a
backpacker who smoked. I have enough
trouble with the elevation and effort. I
can’t imagine wanting to pull out a couple of cigarettes, but that’s what he
did. That same group also had someone
with an electric toothbrush. I guess
added weight was not as important to him as personal hygiene, an attribute that
I admire in others, but have no intention of adopting personally. I imagine he brought deodorant as well! They also had a portable shower. I’m not sure I would want to shower in the 40
degree weather we were experiencing, but to each his own. The campground did have a very nice pit
toilet which, fortunately, was an outhouse with walls and roof. Pretty classy for this part of the world, and
much better than the previous campground.
Unlike the previous campground, this one had bear boxes instead of
poles. Bear boxes are large steel
lockers with handles that the bears are not able to operate. In general, they are better than poles, but
you have to be careful that you don’t get your food mixed up with everyone
else’s. With the rough day we had, we
rewarded ourselves with Mountain House Lasagna for supper. No other backpacking meal comes close, and
few meals off the trail can beat it!
Cumulative miles: 16.1
Day 3: September 19
 |
| Leaving Fifty Mountain |
The day dawned with similar weather. We had a shorter day with only 8.2 miles
including gains of 1,725 feet and losses of 2,800 feet. We set off entering a more remote part of the
park following the Waterton Valley Trail. Along the way, we met a lone hiker with an
interesting route. He was a peakbagger,
which means he hikes the trails just to be able to get to the tops of the
highest mountains. He was coming from
Mt. Cleveland, which was several miles away and a couple miles off the
trail. He had now climbed all the
mountains in Glacier with an elevation over 10,000 feet and was starting on the
9,000’s. His journey on this day was to
head back to his car which was parked at the same place as ours. In other words, he would do in less than a
day what we had done in more than one and a half days. He carried minimal gear and provisions, but
that’s still a lot of miles. Peakbagging
is an interesting activity, but it seemed risky to the point of being dangerous
to go off-trail by oneself. He obviously
was up to the task and was experienced.
I tip my hat to him, but have no desire to emulate him.
 |
| Eric & Tom at the patrol cabin |
We had lunch at a patrol cabin at the junction of the
Waterton Valley and Stoney Indian Pass trail and began the ascent to Stoney
Indian campground. The Stoney Indian Pass
trail is part of the Pacific Northwest Trail, a 1,200 mile trail running from
Glacier to Olympic National Park on the coast near Seattle as well as the
Continental Divide trail. Tom sighted a
black bear foraging near the trail. Tom
and I were able to watch it for a few minutes until it moved off into the
undergrowth. Eric, bringing up the rear
missed it. He had the misfortune of
breaking one of his trek poles, which probably didn’t affect him as much as it
could have. This section of the trail
was quite overgrown minimizing the value of poles.
We reached the campground with plenty of daylight to
spare. It was a very pretty area with a
nice little lake tucked just below the pass.
It was a very small campground with small sites scratched out of hillside
with some effort. The sites were small,
but rather secluded as the whole campground was spread out. It was evident that this campground was not a
popular one. It did have bear boxes and
a primitive pit toilet with the best view of the trip and the second best view
I have ever seen from a pit toilet. The
first was overlooking a glacier on the Wonderland Trail. The problem with this one is that the view
included the kitchen area and the view worked both ways. Since we were the first ones to arrive at the
campground, we selected the best site, which wasn’t all that great, and put up
our tents. By this point, one might be
viewing us as selfish and greedy, always trying to get the best sites. That is a half accurate assessment. Our main concern was with the size of the
sites. We had two tents while more than
half of the other backpackers we met only had one. Also, I had brought along my 3-man tent
which, at about 66 inches across is hardly big enough for three, but is very
nice for two. It is also high enough to
sit up in and can be used as a gathering spot on nights that are too wet or
windy to be outside. However, those
extra couple of inches of luxury came at a price and that price was
flexibility. In most sites, there was
only one way to both fit the tent and have a proper floor slope. Regardless of your view of this luxury, some
of the sites were not big enough to accommodate both tents. Hence our interest in arriving first.
As we unpacked, we realized a tragic event had
occurred. We had forgotten 2 packages of
dinners at the last campground. It seems
that with everyone gathered around the bear boxes trying to get their backpack
packed, the two packages were forgotten.
Each night we would prepare two packages, so we were now down a day of
meals with three nights to go before we got to Many Glacier where they have some
actual restaurants. Going back to get
them was out of the question as it would be a sixteen mile round trip with no
guarantee that the meals would still be there.
We wouldn’t starve, but warm meals are definitely a blessing on a cold,
damp night. Fortunately the meals that
were lost were not Lasagna. There also
was a possibility that other backpackers would have some extra food that we
could take from…I mean, that they would give us!
It wasn’t too long and we were joined by what would be the
only other group for that night: three
Montanans getting ready to finish their hike the next day with a lot of extra
food. Two brothers and good friend all
in their early 50’s, they had been out for a couple of days and were heading
out to Goat Haunt to catch a shuttle boat up to Waterton in Canada. We mapped out our strategy. Careful not to show our food stocks, we made
the usual casual conversation regarding our trip. Over time, the conversation naturally came
around to our great misfortune of losing our beloved suppers at the last
campground. As Tom related the sad tale
in woeful terms, Eric and I sat gauntly by with vacuous eyes. Obviously we were in great need, our very
existence hanging in the balance. But
even the skillful and heart-tugging plea surrounding our plight failed to move
these stoic natives with their ample supplies and gentle downhill trek the
following day. We completed our meager
supper, splitting one lone Mountain House meal between the three of us and
retired to our tents for the evening.
Although the campsites were sheltered by small trees and
bushes, the wind was terrible which made it seem even colder than it was. After attempting to get to sleep for some
time, I was driven to getting out of my nice warm sleeping bag and trouping all
the way over to the food storage area to get my earplugs which I had left in my
food pack. I have never camped in such a
windy place. Based on the vegetation and
the layout of the campground, I would guess this was a typical experience in
this place.
Cumulative miles:
24.3
Day 4: September 20
 |
| Overlooking the lake by the campsite from the previous night |
 |
| Waterfall descending from Stoney Indian Pass |
The morning dawned as all the mornings thus far had
dawned: cold, damp and windy. We ate breakfast with the selfish Montanans
who regaled us with tales of the horrors of the trail we were about to embark
upon. We would, according to them, be
fortunate to make it to the next camp even though it was only 5.7 miles. We would begin with a 1,000 foot climb to the
pass, which had taken them an hour to come down. When we finished the climb with Tom setting
the pace, only a half hour had passed.
Maybe our Montana friends would have done better without carrying so
much food! The rest of the day was
downhill to our camp at Mokowanis Junction, dropping 2,410 feet in
elevation. The landscape on this side of
the pass was more forest and a bit more rugged initially as opposed to the
alpine tundra that had dominated the previous days. Once we reached the bottom of the initial
descent, this part of the trail followed a series of lakes. As such, it was flat and heavily
forested. We also had our first mountain
goat spotting and heard an elk bugling in the distance. Of all the animals, mountain goats are the
easiest to spot. Their white coats stand
out against almost any background, particularly if they are high up on the
mountain.
 |
| Fall Colors in Glacier |
 |
| Hiking up to Margaret Lake |
 |
| Margaret Lake |
 |
| Where we would have gone if Tom had his way |
Once again, we were the first ones to the campground, which
was a beauty. Due to the ease of the upcoming trail, this
campground was used by those riding horses as well as backpackers. The sites were spacious and common area was
phenomenal with cut logs to use as tables and seats. Instead of bear boxes or a pole, they had
cables strung between trees. This made
it easy to hoist the food bags in hurry.
Not only was it the best campground of the trip, it was one of the top
of all time. No bad sites here. The only drawback was the scenery. Being in the middle of dense forest, you
couldn’t see very far. After we set up
our tents and hoisted our food, we set out on a short hike up another trail to
see White Quiver Falls and Margaret Lake.
After hiking for quite a while, we came to the lake and another
campground and realized we had missed the falls. However, the older couple we met there
recommended continuing up the trail and beyond to some falls and lakes further
up the mountain. They had done the hike
earlier and said it was very nice. So
following their recommendation, we continued up the trail. The trail soon became a path, and then kind
of path, and then a route marked by cairns, and finally an occasional cairn. All the while I was thinking that this couple
who had to have been in their late 60’s or early 70’s couldn’t possibly have
gone this way. At this point, Eric had
some rational thoughts and decided he would wait for us to come back down. That was a little disturbing because if we ALL
starting having rational thoughts and starting acting on them, we would end up
in some tropical resort on our next trip.
Hmm…. Anyway, with Tom leading,
we journeyed on, sometimes on hands and knees, finally making it to Margaret
Lake which was very nice, but perhaps not as spectacular as we had hoped. In addition, it was very windy. It was so windy that there were whitecaps on
the lake, which you wouldn’t think was big enough to have them. At that point, I was beginning to have
rational thoughts as well, so we turned around and went down without seeing the
other lake and waterfall. I would like
to see that area in the spring with the snowmelt cascading down the mountain. Even at this time of year, the stream created
beautiful small braided waterfalls. We
could see evidence of the force of past seasons and can only imagine that it
would be an awesome display of power. On
our way down, we confirmed with the couple that, yes indeed, they had hiked all
the way up there and even further. I
guess with some people the sense of adventure never dies. They were certainly more adventuresome than
those selfish Montanans.
When we got back down to our campground, we found no one
else had arrived. And it turns out no
one was going to arrive while we were there.
We had the campground to ourselves.
After another meager Mountain House Lite supper, we took up residence in
the 3-man tent, listening to the wind begin to pick up. We were very happy to be in such a sheltered
area out of the howling wind until we heard a tree crack and come crashing to
the ground. Suddenly we were wishing to
be in the treeless alpine tundra. It
sounded and felt like it was right beside us.
We took a look outside, but didn’t see the fallen tree. Tom inspected the trees in our immediate
vicinity and pronounced them good, but it was still a little nerve-racking. Our hope was that if a tree did come over
that it would finish the job rather keeping us trapped until someone happened
to come along to rescue us. Based on how
many people we had seen on the trails, it could be days. Eventually we fell asleep, lulled by the
wind.
Cumulative miles:
30.0
Day 5: September 21
By morning the wind had died down, being replaced by
rain. Cold rain that looked like it
could last all day. Everything was
wet. The tents were wet. Our food packs were wet. The logs in the common area were wet. About the only place that wasn’t wet was
inside the privy and we didn’t really want to hang out there, plus there wasn’t
room for all three of us in there at one time.
It was the lowest point of the trip.
All sorts of rational thoughts began creeping into my mind: tropical resorts… beaches… restaurants… warm,
dry beds. But we were not here for rest
and relaxation, we were here for adventure!
We were mighty outdoorsman who wouldn’t let a little bad weather bother
us! We were here to get away from it
all! We were here to enjoy the beauty of
the wilderness even if the wilderness did not want to be enjoyed. And so we donned our raingear, packed up our
wet tents and set out. After all, that
trail wasn’t going to hike itself!
For some reason that
I’m not sure I ever understood, we decided to hike a while before
breakfast. I think it was in hopes of
finding a dry spot at which to cook.
Eventually we gave up on that idea and made the best of a spot under a
large pine tree. It was just wet. Really wet.
This section of the trail is very flat as we were hiking along some long
lakes. For the entire day (8.8 miles),
we lost and then gained less than 300 feet.
Not only is that considered flat in Glacier, that is considered flat in Central
Illinois. While this made the hike was
less strenuous, it also made for poor drainage on the trail and wet feet. There were a number of trees down over the
path from the previous night’s wind storm.
Some we could scramble over, some we had to bushwhack around. This area was supposed to be a good place to
see wildlife, but we saw just a few deer.
We were hoping for elk or moose.
As we plodded along, the rain stopped and everything was just quietly
wet as we trudged along the trail as it wound through the woods.
 |
| The river crossing |
As we reached the end of the lakes, we had a choice. We could continue on the current trail to
meet up with the Belly River Trail, or take the Cosley Lake Cutoff and the
Ptarmigan Trail. The Cutoff would save
us about two miles, but require a river crossing. Normally there is a cable across the river
for assistance, but the rangers had just taken it out in preparation for the
winter. Tom, of course, was all about an
adventuresome and dangerous river crossing, even if it did cut down on the
amount of hiking he could do. Eric and I
were not so sure it was a good idea, but agreed that there wasn’t any harm in
going to look at the river. After all,
we could outvote Tom if it looked too adventuresome. We were, after all, the Rational Thought
voting block and were not afraid to throw our weight around! The river turned out to be less challenging
than some other hikers had led us to believe, so we decided to ford it for a
number of reasons. First, we were
already wet. Second, I had carried my
crocs the whole way and had yet to use them and I hate carrying equipment that
I don’t need. Third, we were still
carrying wet items in our packs. The
sooner we got to camp, the sooner we could start drying out the gear. So after changing shoes and rolling up or
unzipping pant legs, we plunged into the river.
While brutally cold, the water didn’t even come up to our knees and the
current was manageable.
 |
| Dawn Mist Falls |
 |
| Our little hiking buddy! |
The hike up to Lake Elizabeth was a beauty. Perhaps we were just stoked by the river
crossing which always makes me feel so rugged, outdoorsy and fresh. Halfway to Lake Elizabeth we stopped by the
wonderful Dawn Mist Falls, the largest volume falls we had run across on this
trip. We arrived at an empty Lake
Elizabeth campground, once again allowing us to have our pick of the half dozen
sites, all of which were above average.
Thankful to be able to pitch our wet tents and spread out other items
for drying, we claimed a nice site with a “private path to the lake”. We discovered some stowaways that we had
carried from the last campground. In our
haste to pack up in the rain, we did not notice a few slugs that had attached
themselves to our ground sheet. Nothing
like a little slime to add to the dirt and moisture. We hung a line to a futile attempt to dry
some clothes. Unfortunately, the
sunlight was scattered and its drying power was weak, but it was still better
than rain. We ate a late lunch in the
common area where we came under assault of a very aggressive chipmunk. A VERY AGGRESSIVE CHIPMUNK. He had no fear of humans and evidently viewed
us as a primary food source. Based on his
size and girth, I imagine this idea was the result of misguided backpackers of
past days. We tossed some pebbles in his
direction and eventually he quit bothering us.
 |
| Elizabeth |
Lake Elizabeth is a wonderful setting. It was an ideal setting for some
downtime. Tom took off to look for signs
of wildlife. I took some pictures of the
lake and realized that all my pictures up to this point were taken with medium
resolution rather than high resolution, a mistake of catastrophic proportions that
I will mourn when I print for my gallery of trip photos. I sat by the lake and took several pictures
of the scenery as the sun and clouds created wonderful contrasts of the
mountains surrounding the lake with the reflection on the perfectly still water. We were able to spot several mountain goats
on the mountainside just west of the lake, white dots among the green and gray
of the landscape. Several other groups of
backpackers joined us at the campground for the evening as this is a popular
campground being located in a very scenic part of the park only a day’s hike
from Many Glacier. We enjoyed our last
Mountain House meals, looking forward to some real food the following night at
one of the restaurants at Many Glacier.
I had mixed emotions about that since we would still have another day of
backpacking, but my emotions were not mixed enough to carry some extra meals
for all those miles. For such a bad
start to the day, it turned out pretty well.
Cumulative miles: 38.7
Day 6: September 22
 |
| Above the fog. |
 |
| Toward Ahern Glacier |
We awoke to heavy fog.
We debated whether to wait until the sun burned it off, but since we
were in a valley, we realized that could be some time. We packed up our still wet gear and headed
out. We had 10.1 miles to go until we
reached the (relatively) cushy campground at Many Glacier. The trail took us up away from the lake and
then toward the top of a ridge toward the Ptarmigan Wall. We crossed our only suspension bridge of the
trip which paled in comparison to the bridges on the Wonderland Trail, but was
still significant enough that I didn’t want to look down. Once we climbed a couple of hundred feet, we
broke through the fog to see clear blue skies and the spectacular mountain views
we had come to Glacier for. More than
once we stopped to take pictures that woefully fail to capture the majesty and
beauty of this wilderness.
 |
| Me preparing to enter Mordor! |
Overall on this trip we had seen less people than we had
expected. In spite of it being a weekday
(Tuesday), the weather and scenery made this a day-hiker magnet. We played “Day-Hiker Tally” with me guessing
we would see 30 Tom guessing we would see 50.
We played the pure version with no additional points for bear bells or
dogs, which are actually banned from Glacier.
As we approached the Ptarmigan Tunnel, a 250 foot tunnel through the
mountain, we met our first hikers of the day.
The door to the tunnel reminds me a bit of the entrance to mythical Mordor: iron doors anchored to the hewn stone. The tunnel was built in 1930. We discussed the impossibility of something
like this being built in a national park today.
Attitudes have changed regarding national parks and our place in
them. Some of the changes are good and
some not so much.
We plunged through the tunnel, emerging into the sunlight
with the Many Glacier valley in our sights.
We stopped for lunch at Ptarmigan Lake and spread out our tents to
dry. It was perfect weather for a hike
and began to make up for the poor weather we had during the previous days. As we headed down through the valley, the
day-hiker count continued to climb. We
spotted a large herd of bighorn sheep up on the side of the valley. The day hiker tally was 49 and Tom was
declared the winner of the contest.
 |
| Eric, atoning for his environmental sins. |
 |
| Black Bear foraging up the mountain. |
As
we reached Many Glacier, we made our way through the cabins and shops which
were all closed for the season. The
campground was still open, but the host’s site was vacant and some of the
bathrooms were shut down for the winter as well. There is one site that is reserved for
backpackers. The others all have room
for parking a vehicle. While most of the
sites were empty, there were a number of sites taken. Our site was strategically located within
sight of one of the bathrooms, and right next to the dumpster, into which we
dumped all the garbage we had been carrying.
It wasn’t that much weight, but symbolically significant. Eric deposited the wayward glove that Tom had
rescued on the first day, having borne it without complaining these many days
to atone for other environmental sins that he committed along the way. In some ways, it felt like our trip was
over. We pitched our tents on top of the
hopelessly undersized raised gravel platforms, stowed our meager remaining food
supplies in the bear boxes and set off for Many Glacier Hotel to get
supper. We really were back in
civilization. As we walked the mile plus
to the hotel, we came across a deer grazing by the side of the road. We were so close, we could have touched
it. A little further along, there were a
number of people by the side of the road looking up into the mountain. There were three bears high in the
mountain. From what we could tell, two
were black bears, but the other appeared to be a grizzly. As we continued toward the hotel, we noticed a
definite dearth of activity with only a few cars there. There was activity going on inside, but it
didn’t seem to be the type of activity we were looking for. As we got to the entrance, we saw the
sign. Closed for the season. We were two days late. The only people there were preparing the
building for the winter and cleaning out all the rooms. It was a disappointment of significant magnitude,
but we had no other option. We trudged
back to our campsite and dug out our dwindling food supplies. By this point in the trip, we had eaten all
the food that we really liked, leaving only the less desirable. After a supper of granola bars and trail mix,
we sat at our picnic bench reflecting on the trip. In a way it was a fitting end, allowing us
one more night of roughing it.
Down the lane at another campsite, there were a couple of
young guys chilling out. One was
mindlessly strumming a guitar. The other
was hacking at a fallen tree with a hatchet for a VERY long time. Apparently collecting firewood from one’s
campsite is frowned upon by the rangers.
Also frowned upon is arguing with said ranger. It turned into quite an ordeal as the ranger
called in back-up as things got heated.
It was a good reminder of why we stay in the backcountry instead of the
big campgrounds when we backpack: no
idiots. I do have to admit that the bathroom
facilities are much nicer, however.
Cumulative miles: 48.8
Day 7: September 23
 |
| Mount Grinnell from Swiftcurrent Pass Trail |
Another spectacular morning.
It’s always good to end on a high note and that’s definitely what
happened on this trip. The last two and
a half days were picture perfect, more than making up for the previous couple
of days, the memory of which was already fading. We had 11.8 miles to cover and no good food
left. We set out in good time knowing we
had a long flat section followed by a large, short uphill and then a long
downhill. We tried the “Day-Hiker Tally”
game, but it just wasn’t cutting it on that day. Since we were hiking away from the parking
lot and we started early, we didn’t see anyone else until we were starting the
big ascent. The two guys we met were
trail workers, which, according to the official rules, do not count. We hiked though aspen forests along the
Swiftcurrent Pass Trail. It was a very
beautiful hike, but the pictures don’t do it justice due to the lighting. We were not going to wait around for better
lighting. We were on the last leg of our
journey and looking forward to real food and showers. We spotted a few bighorn sheep on the slope
above us. We then climbed 2,000 feet
over a relatively short distance, up some of the most serious switchbacks of
our hike. At the top of the pass, there
was a sizeable monument to something. We
decided it was probably marking the continental divide, but perhaps it was just
a cairn that grew out of control.
 |
| Where we had come from: Swiftcurrent |
 |
| Continental Divide or Out-of-Control Cairn? |
We descended from the pass, stopping for lunch back at the
Granite Park Chalet. Another aggressive
chipmunk welcomed our arrival, but it soon tired of our inhospitality and scampered
off in search of other prey when some dayhikers showed up. As we continued the descent, we began to see
increased numbers of dayhikers, many of which had no idea what they were doing. There was one guy who had a poorly trained dog
with him, without a leash. That’s a good
way to lose a dog. It wouldn’t take long
in that wooded terrain for the dog to get out of earshot and there would be no
finding him. Toward the bottom of the
switchbacks, we came across one couple who I would guess ended up in an
argument. The wife did not appear to be
in the kind of shape needed to climb the switchbacks and she was wearing a
sweatshirt. By this point, we were down
to t-shirts and still warm. She muttered
something about her husband said it was just a little further as he prodded her
along. We didn’t have the heart to tell
her they were only 20% of the way to the Chalet and it was the easy 20%!
 |
| End of the hike! |
We arrived at our vehicle, thankful to see it still
there. We found a dayhiker to take our
end of the trip picture, but unfortunately picked the wrong person to do so as
she included a portion of her finger in the photo. For Eric’s sake, we drove up GTTSR to Logan
Pass where they have a building with some nice displays. We also happened across a group of scruffy
looking backpackers who Tom correctly identified as through hikers on the
Continental Divide Trail. They were just
a couple of days from the end of their trail, having started at the Mexican
border in April, which means they had averaged close to 20 miles a day. They were looking forward to being done. And so were we. We hit the park headquarters on the way out
and I decided against purchasing a souvenir t-shirt, a decision I regret. We returned to the golf resort for the night
and then headed out to the Night Owl for that first meal off the trail. We did not order granola.
Cumulative miles: 60.6 (plus several side trips sans packs)
Thus concluded our little adventure. We feel we have done Glacier and done it the
right way. No, we didn’t see some of the
larger wildlife, but that is not something that you can plan. Perhaps if the weather had been different or
if we had taken more time to take some side trails we would have. On the other hand, I still have mixed
feelings about seeing a grizzly in the wild.
Montana is a great state with many natural wonders. It’s worth the effort to see it the right
way.
It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. But now as we huddled in the tent listening
to the wind howling through the treetops, we questioned the wisdom of our plans. Suddenly, the air was split with a resounding
crack and, after what seemed an eternity, a ground-shaking thud as an ancient
giant of these northern woods gave in to the wind’s brutal force and the
relentless pull of the earth. It was but
one of many that would surrender during this long, bitter night in a place
where death and destruction are but a part of the cycle of life. We were outsiders in this land. Interlopers, if you will, wanting to
experience the beauty and majesty of Glacier, but not the stark reality of the
elements that mold it to their will.
Our journey for the day was a challenging one so early in
the trip. This is the day we would do
the extra two miles from the changed agenda.
We took the Highline trail north, which is also part of the Continental
Divide Trail, connecting Mexico and Canada through the heart of the Rockies, an
impressive 3,100 miles. The scenery was
diminished by the overcast skies and would have been spectacular on a sunny
day. Since this day was cold, rainy and
windy, the scenery was just average.
Primarily alpine tundra, there were occasional wooded areas which we
headed into with calls of “Hey Bear” not wanting to surprise any roaming
grizzlies. It was a wonderful time to be
in Glacier. The aspens were turning a
bright yellow, offsetting the dark green of the pine trees and the grey stone
of the mountain. Our path was fairly
level, running along the contour lines of our map. We crossed several small waterfalls cascading
down the slope, but saw no wildlife. We
did meet some backpackers coming the other way who had seen several grizzles
and some moose as well on the other side of the pass where we would be in a
couple of days.
The day dawned with similar weather. We had a shorter day with only 8.2 miles
including gains of 1,725 feet and losses of 2,800 feet. We set off entering a more remote part of the
park following the Waterton Valley Trail. Along the way, we met a lone hiker with an
interesting route. He was a peakbagger,
which means he hikes the trails just to be able to get to the tops of the
highest mountains. He was coming from
Mt. Cleveland, which was several miles away and a couple miles off the
trail. He had now climbed all the
mountains in Glacier with an elevation over 10,000 feet and was starting on the
9,000’s. His journey on this day was to
head back to his car which was parked at the same place as ours. In other words, he would do in less than a
day what we had done in more than one and a half days. He carried minimal gear and provisions, but
that’s still a lot of miles. Peakbagging
is an interesting activity, but it seemed risky to the point of being dangerous
to go off-trail by oneself. He obviously
was up to the task and was experienced.
I tip my hat to him, but have no desire to emulate him.
We reached the campground with plenty of daylight to
spare. It was a very pretty area with a
nice little lake tucked just below the pass.
It was a very small campground with small sites scratched out of hillside
with some effort. The sites were small,
but rather secluded as the whole campground was spread out. It was evident that this campground was not a
popular one. It did have bear boxes and
a primitive pit toilet with the best view of the trip and the second best view
I have ever seen from a pit toilet. The
first was overlooking a glacier on the Wonderland Trail. The problem with this one is that the view
included the kitchen area and the view worked both ways. Since we were the first ones to arrive at the
campground, we selected the best site, which wasn’t all that great, and put up
our tents. By this point, one might be
viewing us as selfish and greedy, always trying to get the best sites. That is a half accurate assessment. Our main concern was with the size of the
sites. We had two tents while more than
half of the other backpackers we met only had one. Also, I had brought along my 3-man tent
which, at about 66 inches across is hardly big enough for three, but is very
nice for two. It is also high enough to
sit up in and can be used as a gathering spot on nights that are too wet or
windy to be outside. However, those
extra couple of inches of luxury came at a price and that price was
flexibility. In most sites, there was
only one way to both fit the tent and have a proper floor slope. Regardless of your view of this luxury, some
of the sites were not big enough to accommodate both tents. Hence our interest in arriving first.
We plunged through the tunnel, emerging into the sunlight
with the Many Glacier valley in our sights.
We stopped for lunch at Ptarmigan Lake and spread out our tents to
dry. It was perfect weather for a hike
and began to make up for the poor weather we had during the previous days. As we headed down through the valley, the
day-hiker count continued to climb. We
spotted a large herd of bighorn sheep up on the side of the valley. The day hiker tally was 49 and Tom was
declared the winner of the contest.
