The Way of Water – 4th of July in Glacier Park!

Origin Date: 7/4/26

Only been out on St Mary Lake once so far this season. In the first few days of my annual three-month Red Bus driving stint. It was a last-minute thing on calm water that paid off in full.

GoatBoy is hooked! For my second outing, what should I expect? Those few hours were so perfect, but I was rushed. This time I have an entire day to explore! To prove my mettle. Temper my resolve. There can be only one.  

Today the temp is pleasant. The wind is nothing. It was Friday, my day off. AND the fourth of fricking July! Yes. I will not be denied.

This is not just a day off work. This is a birthright. To boat virtually alone on a ten-mile-long lake in a national park that gets over three million visitors in three months. BRING IT ON!    

BIG learning curve putting the kayak in. Blowing it up. Sorting all the gear. All the while, a hundred tourists stop to gawk, trying to figure out if I know what I’m doing. I’ll get there, eventually.

Now, my understanding at this point in time was that the wind always came from the West over the Continental Divide, and only in the afternoon. Eventually, I would learn that was completely wrong. But in the meantime, I put my full faith in blissful ignorance.

With that in mind, I launched and headed straight for the head of St Mary Lake. If conditions stayed favorable, I could hug the shore all the way home and do some exploring. Lots and lots of little beaches on this wonderfully long and narrow American-made fjord!

Fourth of July, and surprisingly very few people on the lake. Just a couple of boats and the Ranger, who was out to enforce rules on what should be a busy holiday.

The last time I was at Silver Dollar Beach, I was kind of in a hurry and didn’t spend much time there. This time, I got to relax for a bit, even though I knew I had many miles to float.

The nice part about the kayak is that I can pull up to any shore that I want and explore. Sometimes I find the wildest things. Like this moth.

The scientific name is Automeris Io, in the family Saturniidae. Commonly just called the Io (or Peacock) Moth. I had never seen one before.

This big fella was at the true edge of his ecosystem. They strictly stay east of the Continental Divide, and that was only a few miles away. He was on his last legs, I’m sure I won’t see any more. An amazing find and pretty rare in Glacier Park.

In the time since first landing at Silver Dollar Beach, I noticed the waterline had dropped. Lots of wave marks from the summer storms. We ended up getting x5 the normal rain in July and August, rain that always came with a LOT of wind.

There was one good thing that came out of buying my kayak during an amazing sale for half price in November and telling everyone. It was before Christmas, so people who really understand me knew I needed some kayaking equipment.

The result was a life vest that fits me perfectly, and some great dry bag gear that I put to good use. Well worth storing all of it in my basement until summer rolled around.

I had to explore Wild Goose Island. Just a little. Not like last time, when I just kept circling so I could photo-bomb everyone trying to take an iconic (and mandatory) picture.

I did make just one pass thru this little channel between the main island at its tip.

There is just enough clearance for me to get through this tiny strait without putting a hole in the kayak. Makes me feel like a kid again.

I can’t really bring myself to walk on the island because of its cultural significance to the Blackfeet people. But I can paddle the water with a clear conscience.

It was enjoyable to watch the clouds burn off the mountains. To just listen as the waves lapped the sides of my kayak. The silhouetted shadows of those mangled, wind-beaten trees lining the shore.

The lake was, for the most part, deserted. Only the two normal tour boats were working it, and a couple of local fishing craft had put in.

There is fishing in this lake. But only because it sees much less pressure from anglers due to accessibility. I wouldn’t think it’s worth launching a real motorboat, unless I lived locally.

Always fun to watch all of the people swam over the once bustling site of the Going to the Sun Chalet complex. Here is what it looked like 100 years ago.

Today, you are hard-pressed to find any evidence of all of those amazing structures.

Only saw a couple of kayaks on my return, but they never got 100 yards from the boat dock. And the ranger did come speeding up to check that I had an NPS boat inspection permit (one for the entire season!)

I was really in my element on the water today. Learning as I go, and never came close to tipping the thing over. 🙂

The interesting thing with St Mary is that the nearest cell towers are just outside the park over Divide Mtn. Every now and then I will hit a spot and my phone magically lights up with incoming texts.

I even took a phone call once. But it is nice not being connected with the world for a few hours (for that I have my Zoleo).

The views from this lake are like something out of a travel magazine. They are endless. You are seeing the same great timeless summits that were published in Glacier Park’s promotional advertisements of over a century ago.

True, Swiftcurrent Lake up in the Many Glacier Valley will always hold a special place for me. But it is just so small for a good day-long paddle. Upper St Mary and its over 25 miles of shoreline you could explore for YEARS.

Which is why I don’t get the lure of Lake McDonald. A little longer, a little wider, quite a bit deeper, but the only view worth anything is at the foot of the lake from Apgar. All the dead stands from prior forest burns don’t help much either.

Those west side peaks are, well, just plain boring. Bland. Not worth saving the pixels to your Cloud account. Other than driving ten humdrum miles along the shoreline, the real beauty (and history) on the Going to the Sun Road is clearly on the east side.

My goal today was to enjoy a peaceful, quiet exploration. While always keeping an eye on the water to see if any wind would pick up.

Or worse yet, an unseen thunderstorm rolling on the prairies to the east that will push from the opposite direction. Every trip out is a roll of the dice. But as in gambling, if you throw the dice enough, you’ll win at least a couple of times.

I bottomed out up at the head of St Mary Lake, the water was staying calm with just a little ripple. There were some clouds up high that might be signaling a change for the afternoon.

I casually explored the different little beaches that would almost always appear when rounding the next bend. If the legs got a little stiff from sitting, I’d just pull up and take a short walk. No hurries, no worries.

Every time I climbed out of the kayak to poke around, I was amazed. I could not find any signs of other visitors. No footprints, no garbage or detritus, zero human evidence. Just fish lazily swimming around in the shadows, and a lot of birds.

I have a app on my phone that records bird calls and songs, and helps you identify them. There was one point that it identified a dozen different species at the same time. I guess technology can be kind of cool when used for good. Or for the birds.

The upper lake was beautiful. I felt so alone in a national park that is literally loved to death and overused. Apparently, except for St Mary Lake on the Fourth of July! I wasn’t expecting all the reflection photos, given how many days I’ve seen nothing but whitecaps.

With the afternoon came some chop. The wind was only blowing a few knots, but paddling progress was better than expected. The kayak really handled well. This was my first experience with wind.

The nice part is that the craft has such a slight draft. It allows me to really maneuver into some very shallow water and pull up to just about any shoreline. And St Mary has a LOT of shoreline.

I didn’t know there was a second island in the lake. Much smaller than Wild Goose, and once you realize where it’s located, you can’t miss it. But apparently I have driven by it for 40 years and never noticed.

It even had a little tree on it. Give that lonely rock another hundred or so years, and maybe a second seed might somehow beat the odds and magically germinate. I’m sure it must have a name, but for now I’ll just call it Mini Goose. And definitely come back to explore more.

Now the wind was steady and it was time to head back to the boat dock and the Delica. Should have started the return a little sooner, but every minute on the water is worth in the end. I’ll have some pretty buff shoulders come the end of summer!

I continue to love Strava! If you have a spare minute, you can catch this nice little video capture that sums up the day in under a minute. With my favorite song from the Last of the Mohicans soundtrack.

Hope you enjoyed this holiday trip as much as I did. Goatboy out!

And Partick sucks. He might have been able to run around the lake in the time it took me to paddle. But he didn’t.