My son meets my ‘first.’ As beautiful as the day we met. Nasty flies and all.

Original Date 7/14/24

Of course, I’m talking about Mt. Henkel at 8774′. It’s an obscure peak with a funny name no one remembers. But a true mini-monster of a climb, with over 4000′ gain in under two miles.

It has excellent Class 3 scrambling the entire way, with nonstop views. This was always my go-to peak during every Park visit back in the day. I have summited it over a dozen and a half times.

But the key word is WAS. I last visited my favorite summit about 15 years ago. Why? That was when the NPS closed my route (direct bowl, up the middle). I assume it is for the constant bear activity this slope gets.

I had no interest in climbing the ‘approved route.’ It involves summiting Crowfeet or Appekunny peaks at the left or right FIRST, then traversing the ridgeline over to Henkel, then the long return. It seems like a lot of work and a very long day for a peak right in front of your face, at least for my short legs.

Then came technology: a Garmin watch linked to a Strava account. A new world opened to me called heat signatures. And I could see that my direct route was still VERY much in use.

Once again, I forgot the Golden Rule of any federal conspiracy: never trust the government. I alone am responsible for determining which NPS rules do not apply to the GoatBoy. I had failed myself.

It’s hard to believe the summit is just over two miles distant and the better part of a mile up. Or, to put it another way, an average of a 40% grade. That rise over run math from school finally pays off. And knowledge can hurt.

The old climber’s trail still meanders in the meadows (although we didn’t find it until the descent). The beauty of this scramble is that the views keep growing with every foot you gain. The early morning sun gave us a nice alpenglow on Grinnell Point.

So the ‘new’ trick is to get through this prime bear-feeding habitat (and the prying eyes of the many trail hikers going out to Iceberg Lake who will judge you) as quickly as possible. Then, jump in the drainage directly in the middle and start working the boulders.

There must have been a hatch of insects because Mitch and I are covered in relentless bugs. It was a dead calm morning. They stuck with us for the next 3000 feet until the wind was pulled over the summit ridge with the warming of the day.

There were no clouds, and it got warm fast. The upper bowl of Henkel is deep and dark, so there is no worry of losing shade and slathering on sunblock in the immediate future. Many Glacier Hotel is waking up as it has for over a hundred years on the shores of a crystal-calm Swiftcurrent Lake.

We clear the cliffs of the main drainage. Once, a vast glacier would have sat here about a half-mile high, slowly chewing away at the soft mudstone layers.

This is a good time to point out that all of this vegetation is ‘new.’ That is to say, it was not there during my first ascent forty years ago. It’s also a good time to point out I left my phone in the car and had to use Mitch’s. This post might highlight his ego more than I would prefer.

We start passing through the seabed layers that make up Glacier Park, from the Altyn (whitish) to the Grinnell (reddish), past the Appekunny (greenish). It is like scrambling through time (for those who appreciate it).

Ripples in the mud on the floor of the Great Belt Sea millions of years ago. Perfectly persevered up here at over 7000 feet above sea level. It makes me wonder, while all this was underwater, were dinosaurs drinking at the shoreline?

The cliffs on the mountain are just fun. You can find exposure if you want to. And a fall would result in a lot of bouncing and rolling as gravity is the master here. But with every step upward, more of the Park unfolds to the eye.

The upper bowl and final approach to the summit. Some snow is still hanging on. We will bank off to the right, then cut that ridge left to the true summit. It looks like the sun will catch us before we top out.

The last couple hundred feet are always the longest. Sun or no sun. Up is an unrelenting evil master. Ouch.

The summit cairn of Henkel (PLEASE! Do not destroy as nonspecific Social Media tells you to!). It has been a long time, old friend. But if you do kick off cairns, do it right!

Of course, most of the summit logs have long vanished as people started throwing them over the side for farcical environmental reasons or social statements. But the summit remains and always will.

My first attempt at the summit video. Yeah, the wind kicked up. But I think I got the pirate squint down PERFECTLY!!! And, no bugs. 🙂

The cap of mighty Chief Mountain barely rises above distance ridges to my left. Massive Appekunny (a cruelly long approach for such a mild-looking peak) dominates to the right. You could tie many of these summits together in a day. But why? What is the hurry?

There is lots and lots of that wonderful earthy-looking Siyeh Limestone on Glacier’s peaks, especially on the East side. I’m feeling elevation gain now. My best time ever to the summit was 2.5 hours. Today will likely be closer to double that. But I’m twice as old as now, so my math all works out.

The panorama gives a better sense of the literal ‘sea of peaks’ that J. Gordon Edwards often referred to in The Climbers Guide to Glacier National Park.

From Heavy Shield Mtn to Lake Sherburne. From Mt Merritt to the Belly River. This is how you make a million acres feel small.

This has become a tradition (and it keeps people on social media from stealing your summit photos). Generally, you can get some cell service this high up. As such, you can send pictures to your coworkers in real-time when they are at work.

Take away these two morons, and a stunning view OVER the Garden Wall (Continental Divide) and Heavens Peak in the Livingston Range.

In the early 1990s, I dropped off this summit, went to the saddle to the right of Ryton Point (dead center), and from that saddle (left) on down Appekunny to the shores of delightful Nataki Lake.

Getting through the cliff bands at Appekunny Falls without scouting the route coming up took a little bit of work. It was a wonderfully exhausting nine-hour day.

I’ve always wanted to visit Lake Kennedy. No trail. Total bear country. And you have to drop down from Red Gap Pass or hump it down a less than scenic trail over Swiftcurrent Ridge and up from Poia Lake. Naw. I’m good.

And who says the glaciers are all gone in Glacier National Park? Oh, yeah. The people in my Red Bus who never leave the Going to the Sun Road. Well, I like to say you get what you sweat.

Ipasha and Old Sun glaciers seem just happy to be where they are. From this view, Mt Merritt always looks terrifying, along with mighty Mt Cleveland just over its shoulder to the distant right.

Without a doubt the best view of Iceberg Lake in the Park. There were no bugs (they finally blew off), nice late-season snow, and zero tourists to annoy. Is it worth the sweat? And the remaining knee cartilage? So silly to ask.

The MGH and Swiftcurrent/Josephine Lakes seem to steal the picture. But massive Mt Allen in the background is doing all the heavy lifting.

Allen is a wonderful climb and the largest mountain in the park by volume. It does its best to block out an equally famous 10k-footer on the right shoulder: Mt Siyeh.

If someone had told me 40 years ago that I would someday be up here with my 22-year-old son …. I would have probably said, “That sounds about right.”

It’s about 3000 feet down to the lake. Don’t worry. The wind had backed off. Well, mostly.

Some of the classic climbs in GNP. From the Garden Wall to Mt Gould, to Grinnell Mtn (Heavens Peak in the distance), Swiftcurrent Mountain, Heavy Shield Mt, and Iceberg Peak and Notch. This could keep a person busy for the summer. I might have actually to come back!

Maybe it was because of the John Muir/Moses look that Mitch thought he could pull this off. Is he saying that he created Glacier National Park? Or is he giving us 5 Commandments?

The former will blacklist him from the Sierra Club. That latter should earn him at least one lightning bolt from Up High. Fortunately, there is no bush to burn at this height.

It is time to drop back down into those incredible layers that make this one of the more marvelous places to climb in the Park. The layers, textures, and color are a feast for the eyes on this wonderfully clear morning.

The lingering melting snow of spring produced all of these little, thin, wispy waterfalls that trickle down the mountain. These drainages really roar in early spring.

It is amazing to see these fragile ferns in such a harsh environment. There is little soil, and the water is short and seasonal. It is a magical grotto with only a few weeks to live. Year after year, millennia after millennia.

I’m glad I finally made it up my favorite peak in the Park again. Plus on my favorite route, with good weather and even better company.

Hiking/climbing is inherently a solo (and some would say selfish) effort, where you only get what you put in out of it. That’s why sharing these experiences can often be better than the experience itself.

Back into the land of bears. They love this hillside, and they can have it. Just as I’m allowed to pass every now and then. I promise they will never know I was there.

Shhhhhhhh. goatboy ……. out