Logan Pass Training Session

(Note: This entry describes the events of July 27th, 2007)

“I never cared for Browning” Dad remarked as we zipped past a series of shuttered businesses, “the town kinda scares me. I considered taking the train here until I read in the paper that a man was brutally murdered in the street; thought we might want to avoid that.” From the looks of things, I had to agree with Dad that we were better off taking our chances with the grizzly bears of Glacier than with the residents of Browning, and shifted my gaze from the depressing surroundings to the approaching mountain horizon. Glacier National Park, the crown of the continent

We made our way up Highway 89 to the Saint Mary entrance of Glacier, familiarizing ourselves with the park at the large Ranger Station/Visitor Center located there. Already late in the morning, our plan was to secure a site in one of the local camp grounds and complete a day hike or two to get our legs used to the trail. Obviously, to make any kind of hiking possible, we would need fuel, and after making camp at the nearby Rising Sun campground, we exited the park and lunched up at the Park Café. Little did we know what a prominent role the café would play during our time out west.

Recharged with hamburgers and late-morning pancakes, we decided to tackle Logan Pass and the corresponding hike to Hidden Lake. To reach the pass, we drove Going to the Sun road, the famous highway that bisects Glacier Park and provides dramatic views of the parks mountains, valleys, and wildlife. Arriving at Logan Pass, we scoured the packed parking lot for a place to store the Impala, finally finding a spot relatively close to the visitor center and trailhead. Our packs flung over our shoulders, Dad and I eagerly trotted over to the beginning of the trail and our first hiking adventure in Glacier was underway.

Logan Pass is a relatively easy hike, designed to be accessible to a wide variety of visitors with a sturdily constructed boardwalk path for the approach to the pass. Following the boardwalk is a heavily-used trail leading down to Hidden Lake that passes snowfields and white mountain goats. Dad and I gobbled up the boardwalk and began the descent down to the lake, making sure to drink plenty of water and cover ourselves with sun block.

The hike down was pleasant and we encountered a family that had been fishing at the lake; they boasted landing a 20 inch trout, which naturally prompted us to request photographic proof (which they had). We tackled the ascent back up to the parking lot, pacing ourselves and snapping photos along the way. We passed dozens and dozens of tourists, many sporting expensive camera hardware; Dad and I figured we walked by at least $100K in camera equipment on the trail.

Back at the visitor center, we purchased postcards to write home before hopping in the car and returning to camp. Figuring it would be best to conserve our freeze-dried meals for the trail and longing for civilized food, Dad and I opted to visit the Park Café a second time, savoring a sort of last meal before diving into the back country.

Back at camp, I made note of the time and borrowed the car to make a quick attempt at a sunset picture from the Goose Island lookout point, a rather scenic point we had passed earlier in the day with framed views of Saint Mary Lake and its surrounding mountains. At the Point, several serious photographers were gathered, appreciating the sunset, examining each others’ gear, and engaging each other in a lively round of the now age-old debate in photography, “film vs. digital.” It was very entertaining listening to these Ansel Adams wannabes having at it and learning a bit about their techniques. The sunset was magnificent, well worth my trip up. In fact, I would later find out that smoke ruined the view from that spot every night Dad and I were in the park, making it a lucky coincidence I had picked that night to claim my shot.