It was a Busy 2024 Season in Glacier. Recap with Much More to Come.

 

It has been a long time. Yes, I know. I promised this year to be more timely with my Glacier Park posts. After all, being a Red bus driver means I am all about being on time. Or at least pretending I care about being on time. But when I fail, I do so marvelously.

Last summer just got away from me. I like to post within a few days to a week so everything stays fresh in my mind. But this summer, there were more distractions than usual (like how to shut up a leprechaun hopped up on sugar).

I also had some technical glitches in getting these wonderfully creative ideas and pictures out to you all.  I do the majority of my content, media, and editing offline.  Then, various Microsoft tools push it all up to WordPress for publication. 

Sure enough, over the summer, some of these tools were deprecated.  A fancy word Microsoft uses for ‘no longer supported’ and ‘no longer working.’  And that you are on your own.  I love all of you out there, but I’m not spending three hours painfully cutting and pasting to share a stupid five-hundred-word bit about mountain goat poop.

So, I have the new tools and processes in place to return to meaningfully and more efficiently bringing you the magic of Glacier Park (along with my often warped and sardonic views of the world).

Now that I have confessed my first-world problems that you don’t care about, I trust I am forgiven. I have about two dozen drafts that I’m matching media to, so I have your winter reading covered. And I need to carve out some time for the Delicia as well to make her roadworthy for the summer (fingers crossed).

Here are some teasers of things from the 2024 season at Glacier Park.

Goats. Lots and lots of mountain goats this year. Maybe it was just a climbing thing, but I was running across many more than usual. No complaints from me. Except when they look with those crazy salt-craved eyes.

May (which I call the pre-season) felt like mid-winter this year. The snow was crazy—not from what was falling fresh, but from the fact that things were so cool that the melt was way behind. It really felt like being in Alaska this spring. Given that this was more of a normal year, I better set my early climbing expectations accordingly.

Got to share a cabin with my son Mitch. His first year driving a Red Bus. The quality of a roommate can really make or break a season, and people, in general, suck. So if you can find one less on the suck-ee side, it goes in the win column. And it appears the family tie fits the bill.

The early hikes I was able to get in on the snow were awesome. Early season means almost no people and zero bugs. And I can get anywhere I want to go with an aluminum ice axe and crampons—within reason.

Mitch really took to the cabin life. And, of course, my hammock. People hate the East Side of the Park because it is so remote and far away from services. But in the end, it is clearly one of the most peaceful places I have ever lived. It’s hard not to return and look forward to those few months a year.

I finally got over my hatred of marmots this summer. It took a lot. They are vile creatures. But when you have a mild case of COVID, and your lungs feel like used oil filters, and you are forced to sit at a mountain pass while your son climbs the summit you wanted to do, there is time to forget injustices. And just being able to sit and breathe is nice.

Mitch had his own style as a Red Bus driver—clearly not mine—but it worked for him. Most of the time.

I have never been a corporate sponsor before, but it was worth it. The First Annual Beargrass Beer Mile was the best 20 bucks I ever spent, other than that tattoo I got in 1987. Always remember, you get what you pay for.

Mitch and I did get in some hiking and a couple of climbs. I’d rather have a cloudy day than forest fire smoke. Then again, I’d take the smoke over the biting cold wind and hypothermia. That’s Glacier for you. Always full of compromises.

There’s nothing like getting a tour stuck in the snow on the Going to the Sun Road and then having our buses towed to the top by the NPS. But it was nice not to give narrative about the Park for once. All my EDUcational guests wanted to hear about survival rates. Fortunately, I had my copy of ‘Death in Glacier National Park—Tales of Foolhardiness.’ And no heat. And a leaky roof. And an attitude.

But Mitch and I did have some hikes in good weather. If you follow any of my posts, you know an old saying I throw out there fairly often. Sometimes, Glacier gives a lot. But don’t bank on it.

Most inhabitants of Beargrass did not know a Beer Fairy was living there. All you needed to do was set out a flat tire (it must be on a rim from a European vehicle) and an empty hammock. It’s like the fireplace and stockings thing for Christmas. Kind of.

My classic end-of-summer tradition continued this season. Driving home for the last time on the Going to the Sun Road, I always make a quick stop at Rising Sun EDR to grab a Diet Coke, a Heuitterite strawberry rhubarb pie, and a fork for the long trip home. When I pull into the driveway, crumbs are everywhere, and I nap on the sofa. Like I never left.

More to come. GoatBoy is out for now, but not to be forgotten.