Grinnell Glacier Overlook. Last hike of the season. So bittersweet.

Original Post 9/2/21

Last hike of the season. During my first week here, I was doubting if I could make the body follow the mind. I am so happy to have proven…. ah… I guess …….. my body is pretty stupid to follow a mind like mine.

I love Glacier for many reasons. The main one is because she is so incredibly fair. She does not care about race, creed, color, or orientation. Politics and ideology are meaningless. Even the stark contrasts of night and day are fluid and transition without conflict. When Glacier gives, she gives freely and equally to all. Everything she has. All the beauty and grandeur that is the culmination of millions of years in the making. It is spread out on a colorful palette, gratis, there for all who chose to accept such an incredible gift of the senses.

The plan was to get up to Logan Pass early as usual, hit the Highline Trail by 6 am on a lamp in the pre-dawn, enjoy the sunrise from Haystack Butte, muster on to the Grinnell overlook, and get some non-smokey pics. You’ll recall how bad the haze was that day from the top of Mt Gould. Then push on back to the car and wrap up the 16-mile RT by about 2 pm. Kind of a push. But I want to be back early afternoon. After all, it is Karaoke night!

The reality was more like having three cars pass me on hairpin blind turns on the Sun Road to get to the pass first. Okay, whatever. It was a very dark morning. Then I realized the outdoor temp in the car reads 39F, and I haven’t even started the 3500 feet of gain yet up to Logan yet. The weather at the pass was MISERABLE as it dropped below 30F.

The car was being pelted with very cold sleet turning to grapple. For the first time EVER, I geared up in the driver seat behind the steering wheel. Yeah, this is going to be a full Gortex knee-high gaiter kind of day. All I could do is sit and wait for a break, while watching cars try to park without being able to see the painted lines. Kept an eye on the gas gauge as I idled the engine for heat.

Just as Mother Nature can give, it appears that today she was going to do some taking. But equally free of discrimination. Because everyone was going to get every check they ever wrote cashed, and you better have some money in the bank.. This might be the day where that I will be feeling a little Glacier anti-love, like a sharp pair of teeth biting into my ass and reminding me that she is the apex of the food chain.

After a short nap, I rubbed my eyes. I awoke to see a guy scraping snow off the trash can and putting it in his Yeti cooler. I’m not sure which I was more fascinated by: a guy using snow sticking to a filthy NPS bear resistant trash can receptacle, or the fact that a $400 cooler was rendered useless for want a of $1.69 bag of ice. If I would have snapped some pictures of this moron, that would have been a post of it’s own.

It was nasty out, but getting more manageable my the minute. It looked like a homeless convention at the east end of the parking lot, people gathered wrapped in sleeping bags and wearing stocking hats from the Dr. Seuss collection trying to catch the sunrise. This is the break in the storm I was looking for. My last day and last change to hike. I slung my pack and toward the trailhead I walked. It was excellent. Cold and wet, mid 30s and a chilling wind. Trail was puddled, snowy, icy, and an all-around terrible day to hike. Who would have thought all those decades hiking the PNW coast and mountains were nothing but training for this one single day in Glacier.

The parking lot crowd was staying off the trail for the time being, and only the poor bastards who got dropped off by a shuttle (or a sadistic friend) were slowly making their way to the Highline. Many were in too light of gear, but had to commit with whatever they had on them since 99% do a one-way trip off Logan Pass

I like this weather. You get all the crazy angry clouds milling about and leaving you alone. My shell kept me cozy, the feet were dry and doing great. Left knee was killing me still, and I laced the right boot a little loose so that ankle I previously rolled would have a some space to swell and not bind up any of the tendons. I learned that the hard way once. This trip would make 50 miles with 10k gain in the last four days. Kind of tired, but have to go out with a bang.

Hiking the Highline in snow with a churning sky is a difference experience. You can really connect with how raw the environment is, and how hardy everything must be to survive from the wind beaten alpine fir to the tiny squeaking pika (actually a member of the rabbit family – random fact).

I personally think you can appreciate the park on a more intimate level in this shoulder season weather. Everything just felt good on this blustery day. The trail, the gain, the cadence of my stride. Like there was some kind of overriding balance that made everything feel like one element. Then it hit me. I was finally a tourist. Able to watch the weather and the hills move before me rather, rather than focused on the trail beneath my boots. No hurry this trip; I had the entire day.

I was only passed by one group of hikers that appeared to be employees (based on age/attitude/stereotypes). They were moving pretty good but not as fast as I’d like. Instead of turning up the steam, I dialed it back and gave them space. It was great to see a group that excited and enthusiastic to be out on the trail (and such a marginal day). Any of them could have been me thirty years ago (well, except the girl, because I’m guy; I would have probably made a pretty good girl, though, but that would be an entirely different discussion and would need a different type of blog).

The prefect age. Back when everything was new, nothing impossible, and you thought nothing of walking down a snowy trail in the Montana Rockies in a pair of Keds and a string sack backpack.

I saw them later at the Grinnell viewpoint in 40mph winds and blowing snow. This one kid was wearing a shell that looked thinner than the trash bags in the common kitchen. They must be telling Death ‘Not Today’ every morning when they get out of bed. No fear at that age. Makes me smile to see young people really understand and participate in the backcountry.

Of course, the Grinnell Overlook is 950 feet of gain from the Highline trail split, and the last 700 were in clouds today. I’ve got my miles in; I could turn back. I know it’s going to be socked-in and blowing like a hurricane up there. The trail was really bad in the upper area with the light scree over the stone slabs; pretty slick with the sleet. But who knows? I passed two different couples coming down that just gave up because of the near blizzard condition. They were having a very hard time finding the trail, let alone not slipping off it. Great.

I really should have turned back given conditions. But there will be time to sleep when I get back home. Some people even go with the lame motto ‘there is time for sleep when I’m dead.’ Of course, I’m of the thought you really need to have a heartbeat and a pulse to sleep, so I’m at a loss with that statement.

Anyway, I break the saddle, and find the wind is cutting a hole in the cloud layer on the lee side. There was the WONDERFUL view of Grinnell Glacier, the meltwater pond, Angle Wing, the face of Mt Gould, and the fresh snow on the ridgeline leading up to Mt. Siyeh. Incredible. Would have never guessed given the conditions there would be anything but cloud vapor to see. Even got one of the folks coming up after me to snap a photo.

The hike back to the pass was about three hours and uneventful. Except the guy who wouldn’t let me pass him just before the cable section of the Highline Trail. He was walking with his camera in front I assume taking a video, unaware of other people on the trail and bumping shoulders. When I came up and gave the ‘passing on the right’ call, he put his phone away and grunted. I assume he also thought he picked up his pace. When I called out again he said in a thick accent ‘I’m going fast enough.’ Hmmmm. Is there a thing called Trail Rage? I don’t have a horn. No headlights to flash. It’s the cliffy part of the trail so can’t just push by. What would Chuck Norris do?

Great day. Classic hike with great weather elements to end a great season.

There is karaoke gathering tonight at the Blue Moon Nite Club for a coworker’s last day. My man Ethan, from Portland Oregon. I promised him I’d do a duet with him. No, I can’t really explain why, other after all the climbing and bear dodging this summer, I’m not really scared of anything. But with the weather and the delayed start from napping in the car, I’m getting in a couple hours past my target time. Now I’m going to have to go into this sure to be memorial experience without any prep. Namely, lots and lots of beer.

And I’ve lost a few pounds this summer, so two IPA’s should be just about right. With a little luck I can pass out before it’s my turn to sing. Sure, I expected to shed some baby fat when I hit the trails and started tagging some peaks. Just not the weight of three literal babies (four if their mothers were smokers). I think I’ll call if the 450/100 diet. You give me 450 miles and 100k in gain, and I promise to bury what’s left of your body anywhere you want (and it will be lighter). The 500/100 would have been a better title. I just needed a couple more hiking days. But I wouldn’t trade what I did accomplish for anything.