We left Seattle late on Sunday evening, determined to make
it to Glacier National Park in Montana by the next morning and catch the sun
rise. Our hosts (Doug and Susan) had been so incredibly gracious and
knowledgeable (as have our other hosts throughout this trip) and we left
refreshed and eager once again to see something new. We crossed the Cascades a
few hours after Seattle and the landscape changed drastically. What was once a
vast green wilderness became a barren desert, with the occasional rocky peak
and miles and miles of windmills, silent sentinels that monitored our passage.
We made it to Spokane shortly before midnight, and got out of there as quick as
possible. I’m sure there are nice places in Spokane, but they certainly are not
under the freeway overpass in the dead of night. Never go to Spokane. Ever.
Leighton (like a Sir) drove most of the way and we got into Glacier around 6 in
the morning, just as the sun rose. Ned and Chris were refreshed from a full
night’s sleep, while I sat in the back complaining that we needed to find
somewhere to lay down (I’m not proud of this, but I don’t function well on 1.5
hrs sleep). Despite my frustrations, I forced myself (begrudgingly) to
appreciate the monumental snow capped mountains and waterfalls that bordered
the road, the Highway to the Sun. We finally got to the campsite a little after
7, sleepily set our tents up and crashed into a heavily breathing heap on the
ground.
Waking
a few hours later we emerged from the tent and noticed our surroundings. The
tent site bordered a grassy meadow and was backed up by a sheer cliff with a
glassy lake boasting the reflections of tall mountains and billowy clouds. It
made the whole overnight trip worth it. After a bear warning from the resident
park ranger (THE Michael Lambert) we gathered ourselves and piled in the car
for a trip up the road to Many Glacier. The 30 minute drive to the trail head
was one of the finest so far as we raced past trickling creeks and racing
streams. Hills and mountains rose out of nowhere and everything was in bloom
except for the thousands of white dandelion seed puffs from who knows where,
that drifted towards the ground until the hood of the truck caught them and
they would race up the windshield and scoot under the roof rack where they
exploded into the sky, free once more.
The
trail that we took was a long one, abundant with views and wildlife, and twice
we unwittingly came within feet of a grazing deer, but they didn’t seem to
mind. The halfway point in the trail was a powerful set of waterfalls where we
enjoyed the cool mist after a couple of miles walking. Jackson and Chris
however were not satisfied, they were determined to swim in this glacial river
and got their chance a little ways up the trail. The current was strong and the
rocks were razor sharp, but Chris and Jackson would not be deterred and seeing
them yell and shiver somehow convinced me to go in also. After 30 seconds in
the water your feet go numb and you can no longer control where your steps
land. The rocks were sharp but I forced myself in, fully submerged and turned
around as quick as my clumsy feet would allow, scampering up the boulders to
dry in the sun. Jackson had that look in his eye though, and having skinny
dipped in two oceans and a few rivers, decided this glacial flow was next on
the list. It was a quick one (and who could blame him) but it counted and
frozen or not he was a champion.
We
shared some nacho’s and onion rings to go along with a drink at a little
restaurant on the way back to the campsite, we had to leave room for the dinner
we would be cheffing up. That dinner is our famous slop, which has filled us up
on many occasions this trip. What started as a crunchy bowl of rice has been fine
tuned, perfected and eventually (at the end of a long day) desired. An
interesting mixture of rice, beans and some type of canned vegetables, we added
beef sausage this time to go with the perfect ratio of Lawry’s Seasoned Salt to
various other spices and had a classic stick to your ribs meal. After getting a
little scare from “Off-Duty Ranger” Michael Lambert about a bear wandering
through the campsite, we decided there was nothing to do but play a little
music (Leighton playing guitar, myself and Chris taking care of percussion and
everyone singing). As the night went on the rest of the campground went silent,
and taking the cue we halted the music. The fire roared on and we chatted
around it and, of course, DIDN’T play with it. The late night trip to the lake
shore was cut short when we saw what we presumed to be bear droppings at the
water’s edge. It didn’t seem worth it to get a good view of the stars and get
chased by bears in the process so we turned back to camp and fell asleep
quickly with the cool mountain breeze sweetening the air in the tent and
singing through the trees.--A
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