Homage to Heavy Runner. Lots to offer, so few takers.

Original Date: 8/9/2023

I really like this mountain. At barely 8000 feet, it is unassuming. Its central location gives outstanding views that you don’t expect. To get to the final saddle, you must climb around three sides of Mt. Reynolds, none of it by trail. And how I love my off-trail without tourists!

Most people don’t climb the last 50 feet to the true summit because it is a horrible rock with horrible exposure that you must repel off.

And with that wonderful intro, I give you. . . . Heavy Runner Mtn at Logan Pass.

This is one of those days that can go either way. Getting to Logan Pass from Beargrass is only about 25 minutes. I had to wait for the sun to come up, and with it, I thought of only one thing: I’m going to get wet. But that is the beauty of climbing in Glacier Park: you never know. But wet or dry, I’m all in.

I gear up, lock the truck, and strike out to the Hidden Lake Overlook. I make great time to get off the boardwalk and onto the climber’s trail.

For being relatively close to the parking lot, because of the circuitous route I have to take, it will still be a surprising ten-mile day. I can’t even see the base of Mt. Reynolds as I approach.

It is a good thing Heavy Runner is a solid 1,000 feet lower than any other mountain nearby. I can see something if all of these clouds stay above me.

Ah. All I need is a ray of sunshine to keep on going. Yep. One single ray. Because I’m afraid, that is all I will get today. St Mary Lake glistens in the distance. There is always sun on the East side of Glacier Park.

I make my way around the base of Reynolds, all in the clouds and fog. The snow is an easy three weeks ahead of the melt-off from last year. It is time to cross Eden East (as the climbers call it) and attain the saddle between Reynolds and Heavy Runner.

Looking back and locking in the well-trodden game trail made this traverse much easier than I thought it would be.

I remember from a couple of seasons ago that you needed to stay high and find a break in the cliffs; otherwise, you ended up dropping to the bottom of the valley and climbing back up (both ways).

I aim for the perfect approach angle to drop me right into the saddle. And the weather seems like it is on my side. Either way, I’m too close now to turn back except if there is lightning.

My funky-shaped mountain comes into clarity. I can trace the route I’m going to take up the ridge. And that pointed summit cap. So thin. It is such a rotten rock. Sure, I’ll be 50 feet short of the actual summit, but is that a bad thing? Don’t ask Patrick that question.

And then the sky talks to me. Not in words. Not in a whisper. But a giant blue pastel with swirling white over a dark floor of rock and alpine greenery.

There is rain in the mountains, but it’s not falling on me. At least not at the moment. Off beyond is one of my favorite features in the park, which I named Point Allen—a very rewarding ridge walk.

I love it when the sky and earth create these ‘you had to be there’ moments that I can’t ever really explain to people. The St Mary Valley probably had these same flashes in time a thousand years ago. There was just no one there to capture it.

For some reason, I shot a little video before the summit cap. For the 360 views, which you can’t capture if it’s too close to that rocky cap.

I cross the saddle and start up the summit spine to the top of Heavy Runner—a LOT of mountain goat paths and droppings. There are not a lot of signs of people. It’s just the way I like it.

I take a walk around the summit cap. There are a few exposed class 3 cliffs to navigate. They are short, but you still need to watch your footing.

But I smile at the view of this summit cap. Is 50 feet worth it? I think that over a while, I continue my walk and soak in the views. I guess, technically, I’m just short of the summit.

Off to the west, we look into some of the greater glacier complexes the Park offers. Jackson, Sperry, Gunsight, Blackfoot, and the many aretes that divide up all those cirques and U-shaped valleys appear timeless.

This is probably the best view from Heavy Runner. Why? You get all of the wonder of looking down at Logan Pass. Most people don’t know this pass is the narrowest point of the Continental Divide in the entire United States. Right there, dead center is the parking.

It is one of the most impossible and congested parking lots of any national park you will ever see. Unless you drive a Red Bus. Then you get a 50/50 chance of a parking spot!

From the most forward point of Heavy Runner, there is a marvelous view of the twins: Matahpi and Going to the Sun. Two 9K plus mountains. I will know both intimately before the end of this season.

The Going to the Sun road is an engineering marvel. But often overlooked is how it was actually made to integrate with the environment. It would be so easy to paint out this single road cut.

The road gains about 2300 feet from the East side to Logan Pass without a switchback. It drops 3300 feet on the West side with only ONE switchback. Amazing.

Dave is happy for a good climb on a day that has given he so many textures to capture!

The St Mary Valley feels like a first home to me. Every time I see it and pass through it, there is a sense of comfort and security that is hard to explain.

Behind me is a mountain called Fusillade. Hmmm…. Not a lot of bragging rights for it. A minor peak. A solid arete. But I talk about it daily on a Red Bus tour on the East side.

Before leaving the upper rock shelves around the summit cap, I must express my opinion of climbing to the true summit. Yeah, I have better things to do than die in a worthless crack. But Patrick might not have the same perspective.

I just really like this juxtaposition. The iconic glacial carved horn of Mt Reynolds vs. the bright lichen-colored wall of the summit cap of Heavy Runner. Very few people, even the GNP hardcore, have had this poetic perspective.

It’s time to navigate the maze of cliffs back to Logan Pass and the Dodge. The trick is to stay high enough to hit the saddle to the right and not drop too low. I had trading elevation for a net gain if it can be avoided.

It took more time than I would have liked. But there was low wind, mild temperatures, and the weather was actually being kind. No matter how angry it wanted to be. At least to me.

The hike back was usual. Uneventful. But I had to take one look back. And there it was. I’ll call it Dave’s Trifecta. Matahpi, Heavy Runner, and Going to the Sun. But you have to do them in a day. Maybe next summer.

The hardest part of this challenge . . . . . finding a spot to park at Logan Pass for Heavy Runner after knocking out Matahpi and GttSun in the AM.

Yeah. When climbing boils down to finding parking, that sucks. Or, rather, people suck.

For those Strava fans out there: