Located in the northwest corner of Montana, near the Canadian border, it is part of the northernmost Rocky Mountain Range in the U.S. and encompasses over 1 million acres and over 130 named lakes. St Mary and McDonald Lakes are the two largest and rest at opposite sides of the Park providing majestic views from all angles. The tallest peaks have flat faces on multiple sides creating the classic glacial horn appearance similar to the famous Matterhorn in the Swiss/Italian Alps.
Clements Mountain (left) was shaped by glaciers
and is part of the Continental Divide at Logan Pass.
The Going to the Sun Road bisects the Park and runs east to west across Logan Pass and the Continental Divide. From the valley floor, it ascends the mountains in one, long, narrow, slightly twisted, incline, passing waterfalls, and sheer drops both above and below the pavement. The visitors decided to make their first day a photography scouting day and Jay drove the road white knuckled whilst trying not to collide with head-on traffic or go through the low, stone barrier separating them from sheer, multi-thousand foot drops to the lush, green, valley floor. Meanwhile Chris was oooing and ahhhing at the spectacular mountain scenery and snapping point-and-shoots the entire way to the Pass.
A view west on the Going to the Sun Road.
A Visitor Center welcomes all who brave the ascent and is the transfer point for shuttle bus passengers wishing to go to either side of the Park from whence they came. Jay vowed he would never drive the road again and Chris agreed that the shuttle would be their main mode of transportation from then on.
The shuttle was convenient, but also limited the time they could be on the trail, especially in the late afternoon when the light was just beginning to “get good” for photography. After two attempts to visit the east side of the Park, and needing to be at Logan Pass by 7 p.m. for the trip west, they decided future excursions would be on the west side, to the Pass only, and begin early in the morning.
August Glacier Park daytime temperatures hover in the seventies and eighties but, at 6,600 feet, the 8 a.m. Logan Pass temps dipped into the thirties and forties making the need for warm attire mandatory and explaining why there was snow still clinging to the nearby slopes and meadows. A one and a half mile long trail leads from the Visitor Center to the gorgeous Hidden Lake viewpoint. In mid-August about half of the trail was covered with snow and Chris and Jay rolled their eyes at the foot attire of some visitors. Painted toenails in sexy sandals halted inches from the melting glacier, hesitated, then reversed course. Slick bottomed sneakers slipped through slush, barely keeping their wearers aloft. The variety was so laughable that Chris coined a new motto: “Never go to a National Park dressed like you are going to the Mall.” And yet, many visitors do.
Visitors braving the snow on the Hidden Lake Trail.
The Hidden Lake. The trail to the lake was closed due to bears.
The Mountain Goat is the official symbol of Glacier National Park and at the Hidden Lake viewpoint they frequently pass within a few yards of onlookers from all over the world. While Chris was composing photos of the lake, Jay was off with the point-and-shoot snapping shots of the white, mountain nymphs that seemed surprised at the presence of intruders blocking their path down the mountainside.
This Mountain Goat had yet to shed its winter coat - in August.
Despite the prediction of sun, the weather turned cloudy, windy and cold and the shutter bugs headed back to the shuttle stop with some new acquaintances, Brent and Nancy Garrison. Nancy is an amateur photographer and she and Chris were sharing secrets when they realized their spouses were no longer nearby but well behind them and engaged in conversation with a tall man wearing a Tilley hat. While hiking, Jay wears a Tilley hat to protect his face from the sun. When he spies another on the trails, he comments to the wearer that it is a nice hat. This sometimes leads to a short conversation where he stops and Chris keeps going. Such was the case this particular morning except the wearer turned out to be the Superintendent of the Park! Chris and Nancy doubled back, introductions were made and group photos taken before they continued on.
Left to right: Jay, Chris The Super and Brent.
A young man, with skis strapped to his back, had passed the hikers on their way to the overlook and was headed toward one of the snow-covered slopes. On their return trip, Chris searched the peaks for his tracks and found them. He not only had wanted to ski, but to be an artist as he’d carved a caduceus-like spiral down the slope.
It seemed a bit of an effort for the reward.
One of their east side excursions took them to St. Mary Falls, a beautiful, two-tiered fall which spilled frothy white foam into a translucent blue-green pool. Chris spent a considerable amount of time capturing the scene from different angles as other visitors passed by. One middle-aged man repeatedly cast glances at Chris and, determining that the man patiently reading a magazine nearby was somehow associated with her, approached Jay to ask about her attire.
St. Mary Fall.
Over the last year Chris had developed a somewhat unusual collection of camera garb. She wears an Army combat vest replete with grenade and canteen pouches filled with lenses, adapters and other useful items for photographing in the field. A Camelbak water reservoir is fastened to the back of the vest and she dons a large-brimmed hat for protection from the sun. As many double takes as she gets from her gear getup, the item that draws the most inquiries is her black cape.
Chris likes to check the monitor to evaluate photo compositions and confirm the image is in focus before moving to another location. When photographing in the sun, it is almost impossible to see what is being displayed on the camera monitor. She solved the problem by making a cape of a heavy, black, knit fabric. It is attached to the shoulders of the vest and when she wants to check the monitor, tosses it over her head and camera much like photographers of old did with large format cameras. It blocks the sun, creating a mini darkroom, so that the monitor is easily viewed.
Chris with vest and hiking poles. The cape is rolled up and attached to the
back of the vest until needed. It is visible below the vest between the poles.
It was the cape the man was so intrigued by. He queried Jay about where Chris had gotten it and how could he get one. To his surprise, Jay explained how she had sewed it herself, by hand. The discussion led to where she got the vest, what lenses she used and other photo talk before signals from his wife, impatient to get going, terminated the conversation.
Similar scenarios frequently occur on the trails. Because Chris unexpectedly stops to photograph, Jay usually walks behind her and sees passer’s by reactions of double takes and stares. Several people have stopped to talk about her outfit, taken photos of her and new friendships have been forged. Admittedly it is quite a conversation starter.
After a week of moderately strenuous hikes, Chris and Jay decided they were fit enough for the eleven mile long Highline/Loop Trail. It starts at the Logan Pass Visitor Center and treks horizontally across a mountainous section of the Continental Divide for seven miles. The Highline Trail section terminates at the Granite Park Chalet which provides sleeping quarters for hikers that want to experience more than just a day hike. To get back to civilization one needs to hike downhill four miles to The Loop on the Going to the Sun Road to pick up a shuttle bus or reunite with a vehicle.
The hikers caught a 7:15 a.m. shuttle to Logan Pass and by 8:30 they were on the shaded, freezing cold trail admiring the frosty patterns on the surrounding plants. Chris stopped to capture some photos and for the most part, was comfortably warm. On the other hand, Jay was miserable having underdressed for the day. The lack of sun and cold temperatures had him pacing back and forth and doing everything he could think of, including covering himself with a poncho, to keep warm. Several hours and a few miles later, the sun was warming a distant stretch of the trail and Jay pushed ahead to thaw out.
Jay feeling pretty miserable.
Around every corner the panoramic vistas of the mountains across the valley were breathtaking. Charcoal peaks rose almost vertically from emerald green valleys and puffs of clouds impaled themselves on the stalwart summits. Patches of snow clung to hollows in the highest altitudes. Halfway to the Chalet, McDonald Lake shimmered in the distance like millions of tiny sapphires glinting in the sun as it lay nestled amongst layers of blue-toned ridges.
McDonald Lake from the Highline Trail.
Along the trail Chris was intrigued by the myriad of colorful rocks that blanketed the surrounding slopes. From pebbles to boulders there were greens and blues and peaches and cream; sometimes solid and sometimes layered in the same stones. She stopped to photograph some of the interesting details and found abstract mountains and faces amongst the fractures.
One of the more unusual rocks found on the trail.
Although the wildlife at six thousand feet is sparse, it is grand. A heard of mature, male Bighorn Sheep blended into the landscape almost imperceptibly. But the sharp eyes of a fellow hiker caught them and shared the sight with others. Young ladies hiking in the opposite direction had seen several Grizzly Bears but by the time Chris and Jay caught sight of them, they were well out of photographic range. They stayed to see two large Grizzlies, one with silver shoulders, and a large cub run up an almost vertical slope to the mountain crest and amble over to the other side. The observers were in awe of the massive power required of these huge mammals to effect such a feat.
Almost invisible against the rocks, two Bighorn Sheep rest in the sunny warmth.
At 7:20 p.m. the last shuttle bus leaves The Loop parking lot. The tiring hikers reached the Chalet about 5 p.m., stopped for a brief rest and started down the mountain to their destination four miles below. Most people might think hiking downhill is easier because of gravity’s assistance but the knees take more of a pounding which is then transferred to the hips and lower back and before long ones entire body is throbbing with pain. Chris and Jay’s feet and hips started aching at the six mile mark but the lingering 7 o-clock deadline forced them forward.
The Granite Park Chalet. How they wished they could have stayed the night there.
In Chris’ opinion, The Loop Trail could have been half the length since they spied The Loop section, of the Going to the Sun Road, about one third of the way down the four mile length. But then the trail continued away from their destination for what seemed like an eternity as the late afternoon rays of the sun heated the weary hikers beyond a level of comfort. Another stop to peel off layers helped but by this time every step had become synonymous with misery as inflamed toes and heels rubbed boots continuously. The backpack and camera vest straps dug into their shoulders and felt as if someone had snuck up on them and attached twenty pound lead weights. And yet the trail continued away from their destination.
At long last it swung around and their spirits brightened, but only briefly as they realized they had to match and exceed the distance they had traveled while wondering if their tortured toes would hold out. Every step became more painful than the one before. Knees, hips, backs and shoulders screamed for relief but, aware of the approaching shuttle deadline, the brains knew they could not rest.
Finally, The Loop road appeared, but a deep ravine separated the exhausted hikers from their journey’s end. The detour around it involved trekking hundreds of yards away from the road, crossing a footbridge and trudging back on the other side, to – PAVEMENT!! Dodging traffic Chris and Jay plodded on to the Shuttle Stop and plopped onto the bench at exactly 7:08 p.m. Their feet were swollen and felt as if they’d walked on hot coals. Gear was shed, bodies hydrated and sighs and smiles of relief were exchanged. Now able to laugh at the experience they decided a bathroom break was needed before the long shuttle ride home.
The human body is an amazing creation. It can endure torturous physical stress and periods of tremendous endurance, but once it rests, it locks up. Such was the case with Chris and Jay. Chris looked like an arthritically crippled, ninety year old as she stood up in stages, first leaning her body forward then pushing off the bench with her arms and struggling upright against the throbbing back pain. Finally upright, but with a slight hunch, she hobbled on tender feet across the street to her destination. Ditto on the return trip. Her kindred spirit endured a similar experience.
The shuttle drive was an opportunity to relax and the bus deposited them where they began their excursion. Vowing never to exceed a six mile hike again, they elatedly crawled into Big Red and made a bee line home to Sonny, and an evening of popcorn and a movie.
The perfect weather, gorgeous sights and myriad of hiking trails obliged the travelers to extend their two week stay to three from which emerged an unexpected surprise. David and Sherry Boyd, whom they had met on a Bryce Canyon trail and had admired Chris’ photo vest, was staying at the same Glacier RV Park. Unfortunately, Sherry had broken her ankle while jogging one morning and was completely laid up. Chris shared some books to occupy her long days of inactivity and their friends left a few days later while still grappling with the decision to continue their tour or head back to their home in Virginia.
Early September is a time of celebration for Chris and Jay. Their anniversary is on the 7th and Jay’s birthday the 9th. On the 8th, they celebrated with a dinner at the historic Belton Chalet the first Great Northern Railway hotel which was built near the Glacier National Park entrance around 1910. It was a wonderful finale to some of the best time spent on their Odyssey thus far and the morning of the 9th Sonny was on the move again but, this time heading south.
