Mt Reynolds. Being alone does not mean lonely.

Original Date 7/13/24

Almost every summer, I have to climb Mount Reynolds at least once. Good hours, good miles, good elevation gain. My pet peeve is when I arrive early to park at Logan Pass for a pre-dawn start. Because you will always find people camping in the parking lot.

This one guy put up a sunshade on the windshield of his van because the canopy dome light on the Dodge was shining in and waking him up. And somehow, I’m the dick for wanting to see while putting on my boots? Bonus: He’s from Canada. He doesn’t support our NPs or even paid the park entrance fee. This is the world we live in.

My other pet peeve is people do not maintain their cars. The wildlife comes down and licks up the antifreeze leaked from poorly maintained cooling systems after the steep climb up to Logan.

I saw two big horn sheep cracking heads in the pre-dawn light earlier in the summer. They were literally fighting for puddles of this poison. So sad.

We’re well into mid-July, and the Hidden Lake Overlook trail has yet to melt out. Not a big snow year, but spring was cool. And the melt was slow.

I always enjoy being up here alone. Early in the morning. It turns into a freak sideshow carnival of everything wrong with humanity in the afternoon. I need to keep my head in the game.

The summit of Bear Hat Mountain in a reflection pond that I pass on the climber’s trail. It is supposed to be a clear morning. No smoke, no haze.

Off to the west I see Mataphi and Going to the Sun, warmed by the early morning’s first rays. Both of them are excellent climbs.

Although there is still snow on the trail’s lower reaches, I won’t need my ice axe or crampons. It looks I have dead weight banging off the back of my pack. Without snow they are just expensive (and heavy) bear bells. 🙁

Good morning, sunshine! I hate being up this early to climb, but I’m glad I was there once the day started to stir. It was calm, little to no wind and mild temperatures. As Goldilocks would say, it was juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust right.

I didn’t have to kick steps as planned. There has been some traffic up here. But that air was so warm that even gentle, soft early sun took away the icy crust. I needed to move and get into the shade on the backside of the mountain.

Still quite a bit of snow up here for mid-July. The heat of summer is coming, and I expect this to disappear within a few weeks.

I find my favorite Class 3 rock chute through the lower cliff band and start the ascent. It is simply a stunning morning and a privilege to be up in the alpine so early on such a beautiful day.

Views from this summit never disappoint. Worth every ounce of effort. Every hour of lost sleep. And maybe even those toenails that I eventually lose by the end of summer regardless.

From up here, you can see both of the major lakes in Glacier Park. Lake McDonald and Saint Mary. Which is probably why this hill picks up cell phone towers.

I watched the sun climb ever higher into the sky on an absolutely cloudless morning. I look down upon all of the swirls of the glaciers and a few permanent snowfields that spread below my feet.

I spent about forty minutes at the summit, which is a really long time for me. When you have something like this to yourself, it’s hard not to take it all in. To enjoy every moment for what it is.

I passed a couple of climbers all my descent. They were Canadian guys in blue jeans and plaid shirts. They were friendly enough, just a little out of place on the screen slopes.

But it’s not the clothing that gets you to the top. Getting on any summit still has to come from the heart. So through the years, I’ve learned not to judge on the surface. Unless they’re real goobers. Which there are a LOT on Glacier’s mountains (and across ALL the national parks).

There have been a lot of social media posts on knocking down rock cairns that have been placed there for social media purposes only. Fortunately, those morons haven’t started kicking them off of summits. At least not yet.

The return was peaceful and uneventful. It felt good crossing out of the shadows back into the morning sun. I picked up a chill from being on the summit for so long that it followed me all the way back to the truck.

I did my best not to let the great stream of the detritus of humanity ruin my beautiful morning. And it was definitely MY morning. It’s hard to imagine that all of these people who crowd the trail are only a few miles from some of Glacier’s most serene solitude. But I don’t feel sorry for them.

GoatBoy out. And smiling.