Legends of the Fall – Glacier Park in October

Original Post 10/9/21

Wow. And everyone figured I was done posting about last summer, thinking ‘Dave, just move on.’ And I even threw out a cheap Brad Pitt movie teaser title to draw you in. Although I still consider Fight Club the best movie Pitt ever did. But we can’t talk about that.

So, the second week of October an opportunity came to spend a long weekend in Missoula to meet up with some old friends that happened to be on the back side of a trip to Yellowstone.  Many stories over many beers and glasses of wine and the clearing of partially filled whiskey bottles ensued.  Even squeezed in a pleasant hike and got to pet a cool dog. That alone should make it a weekend for the win column.

But Nancy and I know how to turn it up a notch. After all, we were only about 2 hours outside of Glacier Park.  Weather was hit and miss, but still more blue sky that you would expect this late in the season. And the kicker – Logan Pass wasn’t scheduled to close for another week.  All I can say is GNP is in my blood now more than ever. We should all have a passion to pursue tirelessly.

We headed north on Saturday morning with a couple of Jimmy Johns sandwiches and a full tank of gas. Just a classic Going to the Sun Road drive:  West Glacier, to Apgar, LMD, Logan Pass, and a turnaround at Rising Sun (just for a little taste of the East side). This time no hurries. No need to keep an eye on the clock. Take every pull out, read each sign, and visit viewpoints I have driven past without a glance for years. It was glorious afternoon, as well as eerily spooky.

Vaguely bittersweet with a deep sense of melancholy. It was hard to see a place so full of people and bustle in the summer now so subdued and ready for winter. The Park felt tired and worn and exhausted. Patiently waiting for that first blanket of snow and enjoying a much-needed long winter’s sleep before next year’s crowds and noise and congestion returned in an endless cycle of misery and rebirth.

It was weird to seeing Apgar mostly closed. Leaves blowing with that sweet smell of decay from being wetted from recent storms. As I ate a sandwich on one of the many empty benches at the foot of Lake McD, I lovingly looked to those rocky sentinels with their dustings of fresh snow that I had the pleasure to walk across and, in a few cases, donate a little blood to consummate the friendship. 

The many miles I did in the park last summer really made me understand how interconnected this vast ecosystem is. How one drainage feeds another to another to another. For all of her one million acres, Glacier is truly a very finite place.  So few like it remain as relatively untouched. I was going to throw in a prom date joke here, but it was a reach.

The sun was hit and miss, varying the intensity of the fall colors.  There was space to park at the Loop, and at Crystal point farther up the road. Great places to stretch the legs a little and look at the golden hues.  We even were able to park and walk to the window carved into the west side tunnel. I haven’t done that in over 30 years.

That last time was in the late 80’s with a friend (Pam – coworker from 85).  She was lamenting how she had never seen a bear in the park. Suddenly there was a scratching sound in the forest, and fifty feet below us a bear cub was climbing up a tree. I guess ask and you shall receive.

The pass was windy and cold, so I couldn’t quite coax Nancy into hiking up the 1.5 to the Hidden Lake overlook.

The first time she actually wore her bedazzled mask for warmth and not NPS pandemic protocols.

But I got so say hello up front to some old friends. I was on all six peaks accessible from Logan Pass this year. Changed out of a lot of nasty hiking clothes in that parking lot.  Kind of nice not caring who sees your underwear. 

Up and over to the East side, where it was not only warmer but much better weather. Rising Sun was a ghost town, but Sun Point was as pleasant as ever to walk around and remember the largest Chalet Colony the GNRR every built was on these sparkling shores of St Mary Lake.  You can find some of the foundations if you know where to look.

And that should be it. We stayed at a hotel in Hungry Horse. Even drove Nancy thru the RV park where I had to live for two months. She was horrified. Like it was something out of a Korean horror movie.

I must admit, even I wasn’t able to give that place an accurate description.  Hard to believe there could be something that ranks below a homeless tent camp. Enjoyed a burger that evening at the dumpy local bar Packers Roost, which unfortunately has NOT changed over the years. And this should be the end of the story.

We got up Sunday morning to head home, and Nancy said we should have gone past Rising Sun to check out the campground facilities where Xanterra houses the East Side Jammers (fingers crossed for next summer). Hmmmm.  As if I’m scared of driving that wonderfully steep and curvy road again . And the only thing waiting for me at home is walking behind a lawn mower. Off we went.

The pass was HORRIBLE.  Blowing snow, little visibility, and accumulation starting in the parking lot. We didn’t even get out of the car.  Nancy was pretty worried.   A couple miles down the east side at the Jackson Glacier overlook rangers were stopping all westbound traffic.  The pass has closed for weather so we would have to return via Hwy 2 (which we had planned on anyway).  What I later found out is it stayed closed for an entire week and never opened again this season.  Nothing like being literally one of the LAST drivers of the season over the pass. 

Weather on the East side was great.  I forgot how much I missed it last summer.  Better summer season weather in my opinion, with better mountains and hiking options.  And the employee housing at the campground/RV park is looking pretty sweet.  Clearly not the slum on the West side. Great wide-open views.  Not hemmed in with trees.   I might have to buy a hammock stand (or find a way to hang it off my cabin and the bumper of the truck). 

But I should have time to actually use a hammock since I won’t be hiking all of the time.  Yes, I will have to really work next summer.  What a great first world problem to have.