Going-To-The-Sun Road

The next day dad and I each found the coffee stand seperately and found each other in the lobby, relaxing for awhile. We had breakfast at a great local place with all sorts of omelettes and signature huckleberry french toast. We both had omelettes with great homemade bread. After that we were planning a cruise around St Mary Lake with a guided hike, but arrived too late for the 10am departure. We bought tickets for the 2pm departure and decided to venture further north in the park to the Many Glacier area. Its much more secluded and hidden feeling with narrow valleys and low hanging clouds obscuring the snowy peaks. It has another small village area with lodges and campgrounds. I went into the general store and got something out of the way...since the lodge where we were staying was observing the no alcohol policy, I knew the park was not on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation and the general store here had beer and wine for sale. I bought a six-pack of Moose Drool Ale for later in the evening. Dad called that a good idea, thinking ahead. We then walked around the old historic lobby of Many Glacier Lodge, which is smaller than Glacier Park Lodge (where we were staying) but had a more picturesque setting along Swiftcurrent Lake. The lobby was full of old photos and was busy with families coming and going. From there, we set out on the 2.5 mile trail around the lake. It was windy in places but it didn't rain at all. The trail was flat and not crowded, it had several great vantage points with views of the hotel and the trademark jagged peaks. Although there were gorgeous flowers and tall green trees, we didn't encounter any animals.
After the loop trail around the lake we didn't have much time to get back to St Mary Lake. I suggested we could grab some sandwiches from the nearby store and eat on the boat. Leaving the Many Glacier area, we passed a large meadow sloping down to Lake Sherburne with great views of more snowy peaks and glaciers off in the distance. There was a group of people also taking photos when I noticed a ranger on the other side of the road. I looked at her and then followed her gaze back to the meadow. About 600 feet away was a grazing grizzly bear. He was much more interested in the grass and berries than the swarming crowd. He was far enough away that everyone would have time to flee if he began charging, which also meant he was too far away for me to get a good photo. I could see lines of tourists with tripods and 16 inch lenses zooming to get a perfect shot. The ranger wouldn't take her eyes off the bear and when he began grazing his way toward the crowd, she said he was getting too close and would need to scare him off. She rang the sirens on her park ranger truck and shouted but it all fell on deaf ears and the bear simply wandered back and forth, this way and that. Dad and I had never seen a grizzly bear, so while it was very exhilirating, it was slightly scary. It was getting closer to our boat's departure time so we hopped back in the car and headed to the dock.
I thought for sure the boat would be packed full but there were only about seven of us onboard until a large Mennonite family arrived with one son and at least eight daughters. Now the boat was half full and our captain introduced herself and went over basic safety, describing the wooden hull of the Little Chief, which was built back in the 30s. Although there were plenty of life vests, a passenger wisely pointed out that if the boat went down we would have about 10 minutes or so before hypothermia set in. Not to worry since there had been no sinkings in the park's 99 year history. The journey was a quick 45 minutes and the captain told us lots of old stories about the park, how it formed and the different stages of its recent history with the arrival of tourists. We were dropped off at a little wooden dock where we had decided to hike the mile over to St Mary Falls. Up and away from the shore we walked through fields and clusters of small red berries. The sky was a brilliant blue now and the temperature was rising; I was now in a t-shirt and carrying my jacket. We didn't pass many people on this trail but it was still clearly popular. The Falls were two seperate drops in a shaded and rocky area. We sat down with the dozen or so other people, relaxed and ate apples. It was a great sight with wide swaths of fresh water tumbling through the rocky ravine. We crossed the wooden bridge back to the trail. We could continue to Virginia Falls, but we only had two hours total before the next boat, so we had to head back. Headed back were more crowds, but it was still quiet and peaceful on the trail. About half way back to the little wooden dock, we came across a beautiful deer. He was just up the trail from us and stared quietly and blankly at us. The buck had amazing antlers with some velvet still visible, I had never seen velvet on the antlers before and quickly snapped several photos. I could see his nose sniffing our way and wondered if it was the apple cores and clifbars in my backpack. A large group arrived from the other direction and loudly saw the deer and began gathering round, so we continued past them and followed the trail back to the boat. We had a different captain headed back and only six passengers, so he did very little narration but encouraged lots of questions. He had stories about his recent hikes and talked about all the blackened trees, describing the massive fire that swept through the valley three Summers ago.
Headed back to the lodge we stopped at the ranger station to look around and so I could get a stamp in my National Parks passport book, which also my first stamp in the Rocky Mountains area. We ended up on the balcony with the beers we had found at the general store and gazed out at the setting sun behind the east side of the mountains. Shining blue faded away in the distance with yellow rays and orange glows stretching up into the sky. We had another good dinner at the lodge's restaurant and then I wrote some postcards and walked around the grounds again. The official sunset was around 930, but at 1030 there was still a dreamy haze surrounding me.
Our last day we had breakfast at the same roadside cafe and I decided I had better try the huckleberry french toast. It was mostly deep-fried goodness, but full of fluff and cream and short on the huckleberries. The waitress had said the berries were not in season yet and they were using huckleberries from nearby Idaho. We didn't have as much time today and so we headed directly back on to the Going-To-The-Sun Road, headed west. The road was really the highlight of the park, or one of many highlights of the park. It was built back when the Model T would have been tooling around the park, so it is narrow in parts and has very little in the way of guardrails, which means they aren't any. There are short brick walls about three feet high in certain sections, which affords amazing views, but also forced me (as a driver) to not take my eyes off the road in many sections. Going up the east side is much tamer and climbs quickly with few twists and turns. Near the top of the road at the Continental Divide, there is a quick switchback, with cool temperatures and more mountain goats roaming about. Headed down the west side of the mountains was much more hair-raising and I found myself shifting to the lowest gear possible to save the brakes and go no faster than 15 MPH. We passed a snow field that was melting quickly underneath and closed in on the Weeping Wall. Its dark grey rocks that appear stacked atop one another with water seeping, leaking, pouring and weeping out of the wall. Its quite a sight and dad had to roll up the windows as we passed by. You could hear the water dripping out and hitting the ground. Its another one of the many highlights along the road. Further down, you have expansive vistas of the giant glacially carved valleys covered in green with waterfalls punctuated the breath-taking scenery. We stopped several times to get and look around or take photos. This last day was the warmest and it felt great to feel the air heat up as we descended from the 6000 foot summit of the road to the valley floor below. The trees grew taller and the road stretched out straighter below us. We didn't have time to stop for anymore hikes, but we did visit the ranger station near Lake McDonald and were invited on a hike by a young friendly ranger. She wasn't having much luck recruiting hikers to go with her, although there were campers all over. Another ranger asked us what we wanted to see, what he could help us with and why we were leaving so early. Everyone had been so friendly and helpful at the park, no matter what their work capacity. We had just enough time to stop by the lake and drink the last of the beers, gazing out to the placid lake waters and scanning the tree-filled horizon for any last minute wild animals.
Before long we were back at the airport as the heat of the day wore on. Dad and I talked about the great things we had seen and how we could easily imagine coming back for another, longer visit. There was an entire culture at Glacier National Park of families that had been visiting for generations, or campers from all over the US taking in the majesty of this faraway place. It really was magical and brought me to the conclusion that National Parks are places that are so beautiful and amazing that they aren't any place that someone could dream up. The parks I have been to are more than awe-inspiring and really are national treasures.

Glacier National Park

I had been looking to visit another National Park, go to another state and spend some time with my dad. My uncle once told me that Glacier National Park was his favorite place to visit. I didn't know much about it, but was getting anxious to strike out and pay the old Park a visit. After doing some quick research, I invited my dad out for a quick three day trip. He booked a couple nights in Glacier Park Lodge, which was built way back in the early 1900s to impress the East Coast elite when they arrived at the park's edge and stepped off the train into the Montana wilderness. I booked the rental car and the flights and we hopped on a flight headed north early one morning. We were landing in Kalispell, Montana just after noon. Green fields and tall mountains surrounded the descending plane. We were soon on the road and entering the park within 30 minutes of leaving the airport. National Parks are a bargain price to visit anyway, but since my dad is over 62, he gets the lifetime pass for only $10.
It was a cool and cloudy afternoon and we were soon on the Going-To-The-Sun highway which winds through the park, up over the continental divide and is often described as one of the best highways in the world. We passed Lake McDonald, with its shimmering blue waters and gorgeous lakeshore surrounded by tall aspens and wildflowers. We stopped at the lodge for lunch and were quickly seated next to an open window with a view of a small gurgling creek with a fireplace nearby. Surprisingly the food was good and not very expensive, dad had a salad and I had a hummus and olive sandwich with dried tomatoes. Our server was from Germany and was very pleasant. Her name was Yvette and she asked what we were doing. Dad asked her for any recommendations and she suggested a two hour hike to Avalanche Lake. So after lunch, we drove further down the highway and quickly found ourselves on the trail. It was cool and dark. Clouds still obscured the sun and it rained off and on throughout the hike. It was up and down with not much elevation gain overall and most of the time we followed a great swift moving creek. The water was a brilliant dazzling blue that you see from glacial runoff and despite its alluring color, it was bone-chillingly cold. We didn't see much in the way of wildlife on the hike to the lake other than hyperactive squirrels and gobs of tourists. But everyone was friendly and often exchanged greetings. I was taking photos of everything. There were fallen trees, small meadows, ferns and moss all over. We even came across rangers and volunteers with shovels, chainsaws and oversized backpacks; they were repairing the trail in certain sections, they told us. Further down, you could see the results of their hard work which added to the clean path of the trail and reinforced its beauty. After an hour or so we were at the Lake and it sure was a sight to see. It was a calm pool with fallen logs resting just below the surface that stretched about a mile in every direction. But the most arresting scenery was across to the other side where four waterfalls trickled down the mountainside. Banks of snow rested on the tops of the mountain that I could see while other areas were hidden behind lounging clouds. A large U was formed by the mountains and they appeared to encircle the lake and give it a secluded and intimate feeling. Along the shallow shoreline were many other hikers and those same happy squirrels. I snapped some photos and we headed back. It was late afternoon and the raindrops had begun to increase in size and frequency. The path back seemed to go much faster and about half way through we came upon a quiet deer off on the left. It was tall and didn't seem bothered by us. A small crowd gathered and we pressed on. Back at the trailhead was a small ravine carved by the swift moving water, which created a pretty, albeit small chain of waterfalls. A handsome wood bridge stretched across to form the Trail of the Cedars. It was all an elevated walkway, suitable for wheelchairs. Many of the cedars have shallow roots because there is so much precipitation and they often are knocked over by strong winds that often stir through area.
Back in the car we headed up the mountains on the windy road. Nearing the top, the temperature began to drop and we ran into a group of mountain goats. There were cars parked nearby to visit the short path to an overlook and so we pulled over. Fluffy, thick fur all over their bodies with thick, muscled legs and calves, the goats stumbled around the parked cars. A relative newborn followed its mother around the parked cars and seemed determined to mimic her veer move and couldn't be bothered with all the new fans that were surrounding mom and baby. They stood below my waist, but they had thick and sharp grey horns protruding from their heads. That didn't seem to deter folks from getting close and taking as many photos as possible and indeed I found myself getting closer than I should have, but only because they were loitering near my car door.
Then it was down the eastern side of the mountains and we had passed the divide. It was sunnier on the east side and the temperature was milder. Valleys and peaks were everywhere. Scores of waterfalls off in the distance flowing down from jagged, snowy peaks. We weren't even 15 minutes from the goats when I spotted a brown bear off on the left. He was sniffing around in the grass and walking about slowly. I immediately stopped the car and my dad and I gazed out, marvelling at how close he was and he didn't seem bothered by our presence. We weren't a concern for him and I thought that best since there was no way we would want to leave the car with a brown bear that close. I snapped some photos and moved on. Another five minutes or so down the road, we saw another brown bear near the road. This one was more golden in color and bigger, but just as disinterested in us as the other bear. Holy cow, I couldn't believe we had seen two bears so close to each other and so close to us! I had only seen one other bear, and that was last Summer in Sequoia National Park when it decided to visit our campsite and forage for food. This Park was beginning to feel like a safari of sorts. It was near 7 in the evening and because of the tall mountains behind us, a twilight glow was surrounding the area. This was what I thought in my head as to why the animals were so active at this hour.
But we still had a while to go to get to the lodge. Once we exited the park, we still had another 40 miles or so miles to drive. While everything was big and open and spectacular, the roads were smaller than I had imagined and there were more turns and hills, which precluded me from driving as fast I would have liked. So we weren't pulling into the lodge until near 8. But it was worth the wait with the lobby full of large fir tree trunks holding up the massive roof. There were three large glass panels on the top and the lobby was open and inviting. Our room had a wide wooden balcony with views of the mountains and a nearby stream. We quickly changed and headed to the hotel's restaurant for dinner. I ordered the fish and my dad had chicken. When we couldn't wait to order a beer or glass of wine, we were politely informed that the lodge was situated on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation and during the Native Days, no alcohol was permitted. It was a shock and then I looked around and saw people drinking hot tea or soda or water. (This reminded me of the time I was visiting Poland and Pope John Paul II was in town; and no alcohol was permitted then either. I had tried to convince them to serve me because I wasn't Catholic, but they just smiled and politely declined.) So we ate our yummy dinner and drank our water. They had a great bread pudding with huckleberries for dessert. After I walked around the grounds and took some photos of the area with the glow of twilight in the background. The lodge was large and imposing, but with lots of places to wander and relax. The lobby had a very large fireplace with several people gathered around it. But I was tired at this point and ready to nod off. We had a full day planned for tomorrow.