15 May 2023
So began the adventure alone. I had about a month to get from Montana to New Mexico. With a car full of camping and climbing gear, the American West was my oyster, I just had to find the pearls. I suppose it was my mom who taught me to take the scenic route. A straight line from A to B is rarely the most interesting way, so looking at a map, the necessary stops became obvious: Yellowstone, Devil’s Tower, the Black Hills, the Madrid Cattle Ranch in Nebraska, Boulder, Denver, New Mexico.
However, I was still in Glacier National Park. After spending a week in the car to get here, it seemed prudent to explore a little more. I talked with a few rangers about the east side of the park, and they all indicated there would be some snow to contend with. Having miles of snow travel experience from the PCT and all the necessary gear, I was undeterred by their warnings.
I drove to the Many Glacier entrance in the morning. Shortly after passing back through the park boundary, a car was stopped in the middle of the road. I slowed down and saw why – a grizzly bear was a few feet off the road, ravenously eating grass.
I snapped a quick pic and drove on, not wanting to bother this hungry bear. This was my first ever grizzly bear sighting, which was exciting on one hand, but concerning on the other, since I was setting off on a hike just a couple miles up the road. Of course, I knew I was in grizzly country, but seeing a bear in the flesh got me on edge.
I parked near the Many Glacier campground with only two other cars, the opposite experience from the packed parking lot at Avalanche Lake the day before. I geared up, packing some snacks, spikes, and bear spray. At the trail head, the Park Service has several warnings posted about grizzly bears and how it is not recommended to hike alone. Well now I was more on edge, especially thinking about how hungry the bears must be, only a few weeks after emerging from hibernation.
I hit the trail, my heart racing from thoughts of getting mauled. Every little sound from the woods made me crank my head from side to side. No bears…
The forest here was markedly different from the lower elevations on the west side – mostly lodge pole pine and aspens – more reminiscent of what you typically see in the Rockies. The trail gently climbed through the forest and by an alpine lake. The surrounding peaks were gorgeous, but the peaceful views were not enough to calm my mind.
After a mile or so, I came upon the first patch of snow. It was only about 10 yards long, but the information contained in the snow made my heart sink further. Massive bear prints pointed up the trail. I looked and listened closely. No bears…
I agonized over turning back or continuing on. It was so early in the day, and the tracks were going in the same direction, so, in theory, the bear should be well ahead of me. I decided to hike a little further.
I made it to Red Rock Falls, a nice little cascade on Swiftcurrent Creek. I paused to enjoy the serenity, but now I couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the falls. Could a bear sneak up behind me? Gahh!?
I wanted to hike 8-10 miles, so I went a little further up the trail. The snow became more continuous, and with it, so did the bear tracks. Left, right, left, right – little bits of fresh snow scraped out by the bear claws. That was enough for me. I simply wasn’t enjoying the hike under the persistent mortal dread that this might be the last thing I ever do. I couldn’t go and die after Maggie and I had just parted ways for the summer, she would be rather disappointed in me.
I turned around and hiked with purpose, trying to make some noise to alert the wildlife of my presence. I heard some rustling just ahead of me on the trail. My adrenaline started pumping as a large brown figure came into view. A moose. This moose was perhaps a teenager, not particularly massive, but certainly large enough to give me a swift kick. I know moose aren’t harmless little woodland creatures so I stopped in my tracks to assess the situation. The trail was blocked off to the left by a small cliff band, and generally forested to the right. I reached for my phone to take a picture, but thought it was better to focus on my own survival. I slowly crept right, speaking softly, and the moose took the hint and scurried off left. That was enough excitement to last me several days.
By some miracle, I made it back to the trail head unscathed. A middle aged couple was getting ready to start hiking. I told them what I had seen, to keep their head on a swivel, and to keep thier bear spray handy.
I casually ate lunch at my car, sprawled out in the empty lot. I messaged Maggie to let her know I survived the four mile hike, then drove out a little ways. I noticed a little boat ramp leading down to Swiftcurrent Lake, so I took the opportunity to take a cold plunge. Full of fresh snow melt, the lake couldn’t have been much warmer than 35-40°F, so cold it hurt to step in. I went in for a few seconds but couldn’t handle it for long. Warmed by a little sunshine, I went back for round two, and stayed in for maybe 30 seconds. What a rush! The hot-cold sensation that pulsates through your skin afterwards is phenomenal.
Having had enough time to stew on thoughts of being eaten alive, the time came to leave Glacier National Park. It didn’t make sense to continue wandering around grizzly country alone, and I did have a loose schedule to stick to. I drove to Helena, where my friend suggested I stay with his parents. Their hospitality was wonderful, and Helena made for a great spot to break up my drive. With tired eyes and a full belly, I slept well knowing I was safe from the bears…
Distance Over Time 