Coming together on Divide Mtn. Tribute to Glacier’s one and only GOAT.

Original 7/19/23

July 19^th is kind of a special day for anyone who has ever done climbing or off-trail hiking in Glacier National Park. Because that is the day that a fellow with the odd name of J Gordon Edwards passed away. So it was a perfect day to do one of his favorite climbs in the Park – Divide Mtn.

Divide Mtn is steep, short, rocky, almost treeless, and at the end of a nasty access road where a high clearance vehicle should be mandatory. However, Patrick got his Hyundai four-door sedan back there (and mostly out).

Conical in appearance, the eastern boundary of GNP runs across its summit. Forming one edge of the Hudson Divide watershed, it never really caught my eye. But what they hey. It rises beautifully out of the eastern plains and stands alone in a relaxed way. Big shout out to the Lewis Overthrust!

J Gordon was a lot of things during his time on this earth. One was a park ranger/naturalist in GNP for about ten years, starting in the late 1940s. Little was known of the Park’s backcountry back then. He was encouraged by the NPS to hike, climb, and record his efforts, which took up most of his free time. The result was the Climber’s Guide to Glacier National Park. It was first published a half dozen years before I was born.

All you have to do is look back in history to see the power of the written word. I would almost argue Gutenberg and his printing press were more revolutionary than Vinton Cerf and Bob Kahn and their internet (and don’t start me on Al Gore).

This ascent ridge clearly has a LOT of rock fall. It almost erodes by just looking at it. And the Climber’s Guide is a little vague on a route, probably because the approach a half-century ago was more prominent. No need to overthink it. I’ll shoot to that line of scrub threes, then up to the right.

This is one steep and rocky hump. It is basically 1750′ gain in a whopping .75 miles. Yes, less than one mile. Once atop the main ridgeline, all is open, boulder-strewn, and to be honest, a little on the lonely side.

But there is no doubt about where the summit is! Brutal. I’m not sure why the all-knowing, all-wise Patron Saint of Glacier Park, Mr. J Gordon Edwards, would pick this as his favorite climb in the ENTIRE park.

There was a slight smoke haze today, which is a shame because the summer was, for the most part, smoke-free. The views down to St Mary Lake are unique. You watch all those massive mountains slowly rise before you, leading to Logan Pass at the far left.

At the lower false summit are the remains of an old fire lookout that I didn’t know was even there. It’s been off the map for a very long time. But the placement was well thought out. To the East, the plains of central Montana open up, with the Lake Sherburne Reservoir off in the distance.

After just an hour and a half, I am on the summit and can take in the panoramic views looking westward into the Park. I see why this high point might have appealed so much to J Gordon.

The grandest feature is the drainage in the center. The waters that flow from this massive valley at my feet do NOT drain to the Pacific or Atlantic. But northward, bound for Canada and the Hudson Bay.

White Calf Mtn is rising in front, just left of center. The drainage was decimated of forest by the Red Eagle Fire back in 2006. Most of the 40,000 acres burned were outside of the Park. The Hudson drainage took the biggest hit within the GNP boundary.

Curly Bear might have some ridge-walking possibilities. But long approaches make for logistical challenges. There are just no quick and easy trails into these peaks. Unless you are Patrick, of course. The monsters of the Lewis Range rise behind. The horn of Mt. Reynolds at Logan Pass can be seen at the far right.

I met J Gordon once while working at the front desk at Swiftcurrent in 1985. He would have been about my age now. Apparently, all those climbers from the 1950s reunited for a week every summer.

Shortly after their stay, I picked up (well, borrowed from the camp store and didn’t return) my first copy of the Climber’s Guide. Suddenly, I knew all of their names (and accomplishments). How those guys climbed with nylon ropes and flannel shirts was superhero-level stuff.

Although not centrally located, you get a lot of bang for your knee cartilage with this one. I was lucky to have this special day off. Next summer, I might have to do it after work like Joe and Matt. Hmmmm…. The bone-jarring descent in the half-dark might offset glorious sunset pics. I’ll have to wait and see.

Far below is the switchback in the highway cresting the Hudson Divide. And that maze of dirt roads is from the salvage logging from the 2006 fire. Divide Mtn has a concise approach for such grand views. I wish there would have been less haze.

The Climber’s Guide has been the Bible for Glacier’s backcountry for sixty years. Without it, countless thousands would have never touched many of these lofty peaks. Or walked deep into untrod valleys. Or felt that incredible intimacy that can only be found when experiencing Glacier off the beaten path.

I am proud to be one of those anonymous, countless fools. It is incredible what one book can do to your life.

I now understand J Gordon’s fixation with this peak. He returned to Glacier almost annually up until passing on this very July day in 2004. And he would almost always try to squeeze in time to climb this simple, non-technical peak.

But this peak is something more than just the favorite of one of Glacier’s most famous and favored climbing sons. Because when he passed away in 2004, he was enjoying a climb up this very mountain with his wife of 50+ years, Alice. A little dizzy, he sat down and moments later died of a heart attack. He was 84 years old.

Sometimes, I think of J Gordon when I’m out roaming peaks. He walked these very valleys and mountains for most of his life. Glacier was that one place he cherished above all.

And when his time came, he was here. The sun on his face, the wind at his back, lifelong wife and soulmate by his side. Releasing that last breath on his terms, in a place he loved so much it was a part of his physical self.

One line from his lengthy obituary read: “A legendary mountaineer and one of the most distinguished and famous figures in Glacier’s history.” Whenever I see a ‘parkie’ sitting in an employee dining hall, head buried in a brand-new copy of the Climber’s Guide, I smile a little.

Even almost twenty years after his death, J Gordon Edwards still leads people off the map. Forever guiding the curious thousands in quest of their own personal and private Glacier Park.

GoatBoy Out