Glacier National Park - 2015

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 17^th.  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.