Wrapping up the season: Heavy Runner with my boy, Mitch.

 

Original date: 9/1/24

Did you see how I threw my son in the tagline? Humble brag? Hinting toward family strife at a high elevation that would drive views and comments?

Or maybe, God forbid, I’m sharing an experience that in the ‘old days’ would have been seen as just part of any typical nuclear family.

My summer is done. I’m closing out my fourth season driving in Glacier. Although Mitch and I stayed up a lot later than we wanted to the night before, sipping beer and talking to the cabin next door (thanks, Mel, Ron, and Ryan), we did manage a 4 a.m. rise time for our last climb: Heavy Runner at Logan Pass.

I have details galore on this climb across my blog. For some reason, this mountain just calls to me. It’s not big, and it has no great features. Some even consider it unworthy. But like the brother I never had, it always seems to give me a personal feeling of self and something greater, if not better.

You will never see a tourist climber on this route. I like taking the long way up here, which is an amazing five miles one way. You have to skirt three of the four sides of the Mt. Reynolds’ glacial horn. But every side is a different ecosystem, a different perspective, and a different face of Glacier Park.

The biggest challenge is on the 3rd side of Reynolds: finding the best descent line to that saddle between you and Heavy Runner. Stay too high, and you will cliff out. Too low, and you have a lot of tiring gain in the endless scree as you slowly claw your way out of the Eden East basin.

One thing we had to fight was the recent snow that had just melted. This gave us fewer gullies to safely ascend and made much of the surface vegetation slick to step on. It was a mile-long minefield where you had to watch each step. We had lots of falls.

Finally, we get to the mountain. We cleared the last of the cliffs and now just needed to pick the best of the dozen game trails that all lead to the Heavy Runner saddle.

Once you are on the spine of Heavy Runner, it becomes pretty pleasant. Views open up even more. There are all of these little prehistoric-looking rock formations, so you feel as if you are walking across the back of a prehistoric stegosaurus.

This little hummock sees LOTS of mountain goats. You can tell when they squeeze between the jagged dwarf firs: they scrape off much of their winter fur. Happenstance? Or by design? Those amazing creatures have been in these mountains centuries longer than us and know how to use what little nature offers.

I find a nice spot that blends shade and sun to enjoy the views, and Mitch takes off for the false summit. The real summit requires a rope rappel down, and the rock is crumbly and brittle (another reason true ‘peak’ baggers pass on this mountain—false summit does not count as a summit to them).

Even being in full view of the Going to the Sun Road, you don’t really hear the traffic from up here. Maybe the wind or just the way the mountain features deflect sound. You don’t need to be on the true summit of Heavy Runner to enjoy the solitude. There is ample just forty feet below the cap. All of it is free and as much as you want.

I’m always amazed when I look down at the Logan Pass parking lot from any of the surrounding peaks. People fighting for a spot to park. Long lines at the bathroom. Arms full of stuff they bought at the bookstore they will never look at again back home. They are so kind to blindly leave all of this for us!

Mitch finished up his summit bid and met me on the ridge. He did a little sketching and/or journaling. No worries and no hurries. On a day like this, take in every minute of elevation you can get. Just smile. Just breathe. See and feel the aura of life. It’s everywhere.

There are very few viewpoints where you can fully absorb just what a majestic (and classic) glacier horn Mt. Reynold really is. Of course, all Mitch is thinking: we must find a route through those cliffs off to the left.

These are the last views of Hidden Lake before we rejoin the climber’s trail (which the tourists have found) and then the main Hidden Lake Overlook trail. I won’t waste any pixels on the great masses of the unworthy anymore. I’m learning to focus and remember the parts of climbs that bring me joy and just forgetting the rest.

And yes, this was the climb Mitch and I discussed the value of social media cairns in Glacier.

GoatBoy is done hiking—at least for the summer of 2024. And it has been a fun one, with the right mix of hiking, climbing, and social time with people I care about. What will 2025 bring?

GoatBoy is out, but stay tuned for the end-of-season closer! It will NOT be a short read (or even that good)! 🙂