The new Swiftcurrent. Did they pave Paradise, and put up a parking lot?

Not a big fan of Joni Mitchell. I think even back in the day, her lyrics and melodies were just a little too hippy and dippy for me. But it just fit the mood of this post so well I couldn’t resist. 

Plus, the fact that when it came out, I was just getting my big round inoculation scar that was all the rage in the early 70s. You know, when a bifurcated (two-pronged) needle was dipped into the live vaccinia (cowpox) virus and used to prick the skin 15 times in a tiny area.  

Ah, the joys of being one of the early Gen Xers. But back to Swift. So, the Great Northern was unhappy that the NPS forced them to build low-cost cabins and motel rooms for auto tourists. So they built them well out of sight (and out of mind) from the premium guests at the Many Glacier Hotel.

But what have we here? I was expecting all new pavement with the miles of water pipe they laid. But this boulder-lined shoulder gives a clean, manicured look. Isn’t that a little too nice for all of those hard-core, sweaty, low-born hiker types that have invaded Swiftcurrent every summer for the last 100-ish years?

I take a pass thru what was the disheveled parking lot and picnic area for the Grinnell Glacier Trailhead. Lots of painted lines at that wonderfully efficient 90-degree angle for tight stacking and maximizing. But on the small side. I’ve got a feeling that door dings will replace anything with huckleberries in it as the most popular take-home souvenir from Glacier Park this year!

Then I see the method to the madness. Yes. Of course. Boulders stop vehicles from all that guerrilla shoulder parking (which this mile of road is famous for). But the NPS cannot just take; it also must give. And here we have the new swathes of additional parking to offset those lost.

I’m not really worried about the loss of forest. After all, this entire valley was planted by the boys in the CCC after the 1936 Heavens Peak fire ravage everything we see today.

And then, wow. Just, wow. Suddenly all of my old mountain friends are…. well … just punching me in the face.  

All of the new lines are painted at a 60 degree angle, which is a nice balance for reducing the width of the travel lane while maximizing the vehicle slots. But it feels so …. much like a shopping mall in southern California?

And what is this? Ah, yes. That is why the sky feels so BIG. They carved out another not so little patch of that depression era lodgepole for …. more vehicles.

And here is where my inner John Muir kicks in. That is a lot of new pavement. The total number of new parking spots is around 339. At the end of the day, probably a wash with the prior paved and guerrilla parking count numbers. Just more orderly. And distracting from the spirit and charm that dumpy old SWC lot was known for. And I think why it was so loved.  

But there are still memories of the past to be found. For all the valley lies within the shadow of Mt Henkel. My favorite mountain in the entire park, casting its eternal cloak of serenity upon everything around it.

The phone booth hasn’t changed in forty years. I picked up one of the handsets. Yep, still has a dial tone. I recalled standing there at night, feeding quarters into one to call home. But had to make sure I saved enough change to do laundry the next day.

I don’t know how the combo dining/front desk/camp store structure has gotten by for so many years with a shake roof. Given the winds that cut thru this valley and the constant fire fears, it’s stands as one of those lingering old world charms just waiting for a horrible ending.

Which reminds me of the cabin I was housed in back in 1985. The steel roofs were done that season. I remember vividly because the employees were living in them during construction. Walked in from work one evening and found my bed covered in vintage tar paper, bits of shake wood, and dirt from the 1930s. I’m sure there were lead paint chips and asbestos aplenty. Sweet dreams.

I love how the cabin number looks like it was painted by a 6-year-old who learned the alphabet and numbers remotely during the pandemic. But I don’t fault them. Why?

Because I took the original with me at the end of my first season. My dad always told me to keep a Philips head screwdriver in my car. You never know when you might need one.

I went for a little walk thru the camping loops. Lots of new pavement, but for the most part still the same. Amazing views tucked away in an amazing valley.

Lots of new water features. Too many fire hydrants to count. But if the valley were really on fire like back in 1936, the fire engines would be going out, not it. Glacier burns. Just the natural cycle.

Also many new water stations for the thousands of campers who call the valley home for a few days every year. I can’t imagine the linear feet of plumbing that has been so carefully buried out of sight. Good for another 75 years?

So I’m not sure how I feel about it yet. Which is better? The OG Swift 1.0?

Or the bright, the shiny, the new, the very open, Swiftcurrent 2.0?

What I DO know is this. Although this saying is commonly attributed to humorist James Thurber, it was originally coined in the early 1940s by the American food writer M.F.K. Fisher (and don’t start me on Trump’s sad appropriation).

And this is parking in the Many Glacier Valley in a nutshell. It has reached the tipping point where there will never be enough.

So should you pave Paradise for a parking lot? Or maybe keep those cars out of the valley with a fleet forty passenger shuttle buses running a continous loop?

On second thought, maybe George Orwell said it a little better in Animal Farm:

People good. Vehicles bad. As simple as it gets. At least, that’s how GoatBoy sees it. And with that I’m out!

And I kinda miss the old Patrick. He’s been a little bit snarkier this preseason than in the past. Can’t wait to see how he handles the Golden Rule of seasonal work. 🙂