Hi Gram,
Many of the National Parks have instituted a timed entry system to keep the natural resources from getting overwhelmed during peak hours. You reserve a time to enter the park months or days in advance, then show up at your designated time. Glacier uses this system between 6am and 3pm, but I hadn’t secured an entry ahead of time. Knowing this, I decided to get there at 5:30am just in case there was a line or if I ran into any problems. That meant that I had to wake at 4am to get ready and make the drive. When my alarm went off, I woke begrudgingly because of the early hour but excited for the reason.

I got up and quickly prepared myself and my pack, trying to make sure I had everything that I would need. I loaded my water pack, dressed in layers, took my vitamins, filled my cooler with water and breakfast, and double checked my backpack. I headed out, fancy gate opening as I approached it. Oh, I think I forgot to mention yesterday that I’m staying in a basement efficiency unit of a house on several acres with a gate at the road. I stopped at the first gas station I came to and was happy to see that they had stacks of sandwiches ready for all the eager hikers. I grabbed a sandwich and protein bar, threw the protein bar in my backpack, where I found that I still had trail mix from my last hike. I put the sandwich in the cooler and got on my way.

A recurring theme today will be grandiosity. From my Airbnb, the entrance to the park was 45 minutes. With the sun just coming up, the silhouette of the mountains was a sight to behold. Once I was in the park, it was an hour long drive to the trailhead, one of a chain of cars all driving to see the nature. I pulled over shortly after entering to download the map, remembering that I would not have cell service for the next several hours. I saw probably 30 cars pass me while it downloaded, then I made my way back into the train of vehicles. I tried listening to music, remembering once again that I need to download more songs to my phone, and enjoyed the glimpses of water and peaks. I got to the trailhead and found one of the last parking spots available. Feeling happy and lucky, I grabbed my yogurt out of the cooler, topped it with blueberries and sunflower seeds, and walked to the stream nearby to have breakfast with a view. Surrounded by peaks, I was just overwhelmed by the hugeness of everything around me. I tried getting a couple pictures, but between the smoke in the air and just how close these massive earthen features were, they just didn’t capture how tiny I felt and grateful I was for standing here, feeling the feelings and seeing the immense nature and beauty around me.

I put my yogurt container back in the car, then found the trailhead. As I walked, I was soothed by the white noise of the running water off to my right and humbled by the enormous trees and rocks all around me.

I love that I can just listen to a podcast in my hearing aid as I walk along. It’s like having a friend along, talking and telling me a story. I can still hear birds and leaves rustling and water flowing, but the voice feels like a companion.

The trail is very popular and even at this early hour, there is a constant stream of people hiking ahead of and behind me. I struck up a couple conversations and didn’t really mind that I didn’t have the trail to myself.

When someone stopped to take a picture, we would wait patiently and took turns stopping to catch our breath or resting. The trail follows Avalanche Creek along a path constructed of rocks, timber, and gravel through what felt like a rain forest of cedar and hemlock trees to the foot of Avalanche Lake. I saw such a variety of trees, rushing water, and rock formations while every now and then a distant peak would peak through the trees and remind everyone of the magnitude of what surrounds us.

When I finally reached the lake, it was beautiful. Waterfalls pouring down the peaks in the distance were clouded by the wildfire smoke, but the sun accentuated the top of the peak that it could see. I started to take a selfie with the waterfalls in the background, but a gentleman offered to take the picture for me. Everyone just seems grateful to be here and friendly. After taking in the view for a little bit, knowing that I would have stayed longer and shared it with a friend if we’d hiked in together, I decided to head back so I could go and see more of this enormous park.

I would stop every now and then, both on the hike up and the hike back, to try to capture what I was seeing and experiencing only to realize that pictures and words are not nearly enough to capture it all. I thought, “I’ll never be able to enjoy or appreciate a picture of this as much as I appreciate this.” and started to realize why people enjoy getting out into nature. Memories and pictures just can’t replace the experience.

Back at the car, I cooled off a little and drank some water, then looked at the map to see where I wanted to stop next. Once I started driving, I realized that I was going to be stopping an awful lot. Every time I stopped, I’d tell myself “okay enough pictures and stopping for scenery!” And then I’d get in the car, drive two more minutes, and just need to stop again. I need more words for “breathtaking” because that one word isn’t nearly enough to describe how I felt seeing all this magnificent beauty. At some of the stops, I would see someone just standing there, looking off into the distance with an awe-struck look on their face and say something like “wow, it’s a lot, eh?” That was all it took for them to start gushing about the beauty, their previous experiences in other parks, hikes they’d been on, stories of seeing it as a kid with their parents, or finally being here after dreaming and planning for so long. I felt like everyone here was having a similar shared experience, grateful to be able to see and feel and know this land.

After many more stops, I got to Logan’s Pass, the highest point on the drive an on top of the continental divide. I was lucky enough to find a spot in the massive parking lot and headed inside to check out the visitors center. A fog or cloud sat all around us, obscuring the view and setting an other-worldly feel to it all. A ranger inside told a few of us that it’s not normally socked in like this, and he expected the sun to burn it off and show us clear blue skies very soon. On his recommendation, I followed a trail and hiked to hidden lake, which did not disappoint. The first part of the hike felt melancholy, especially with all the stairs and wooden deck. I felt like a tourist just following a built pathway to go see the one picture that everybody takes.

By the time I got there, though, the fog had burnt off revealing a gorgeous view of a lake surrounded by peaks. I sat and had a sandwich – which seemed at the time like the most delicious sandwich I’d ever had – and thought on how wonderful my life is.

While I was chomping down on my lunch, a chipmunk came over to inspect my water bottle. I told him it was just plastic and not food, but he insisted on inspecting it himself. He was very, very curious and kept coming back to check on me. Despite the signs that tell everyone not to feed the animals, and feeding then can lead to their death because they learn to depend on tourists in the summer instead of foraging then starve in the winter when their tourist friends are gone, and they can get diseases that we have immunity to but they haven’t experienced – despite those signs, people still feed them. I didn’t give him any food, but I made sure to capture lots of photos since he was so friendly.

I finished my sandwich and he scampered away so I packed up my stuff and headed back to the car. The hike back was much easier. I didn’t have to stop and rest as much and I found myself smiling.

That’s something I’ve noticed lately. I often have a sour serious look on my face and wish I had a natural smile. Since I’ve been traveling, I’ll be walking or doing something and just notice that I have a smile on. I need to do more things that bring out that smile. I like it!

I got back to the car, had some water, and got on my way. When I tried to leave the parking lot, I was informed that the road I’d taken in was closed. The night before, someone drove their car off the side of the road. They had extracted the people last night but had to come back and get the car today. I was told that I could either wait an hour or two for them to maybe open it, or go out the other way. I jumped on the chance to see more of the park, even if it was a longer distance. On the drive down, I gawked at the lake and cliffs and peaks as before, although I didn’t stop for this gawking and I didn’t take any pictures. Well, maybe I stopped the car and took a few, but I didn’t get all the way out of the car!

It was even a nice drive back to the apartment, the road winding and dancing down the mountain and through forests. I had to stop at one point as cattle meandered across the road, got to see a little town, and had some good tunes playing.

I got back to town and cleaned up, then headed to the town of Whitefish to meet with Maria, my FI friend that invited me to Glacier. We hung out at a brewery a little, walked around downtown, saw some cool art, and got ice cream, but my brain was already in bed asleep! I apologized for being brain dead, we said our goodbyes, and I headed home so my body could join my brain in sweet slumber.

“No words can describe the grandeur and majesty of the mountains, and even
photographs seem hopelessly to dwarf and belittle the most impressive peaks.”
George Bird Grinnell, 1901