The Crown Of The Continent...

...or, as the Cheyenne, Blackfeet and Crow legends all tell it, 'The Backbone Of The World'. These descriptions, and countless others, have been set to (always inadequate) words since bipeds began traversing this area. Now called Glacier National Park (and its Canadian section, Waterton Glaciers), the majesty and heart-stopping wonder of this place... well, the protective circuit breakers in one's observational machinery just keep tripping, resetting, tripping, resetting.

This author has, at times and not infrequently in the past couple years, pondered complex issues... how has it come to be that the gears of fate have latched in this unlikely configuration? That I have this degree of positive Karma? I have done no particular good regarding the overall human condition. I've cured no ills, saved no lives, made no lasting or notable contribution to art, or literature, or philosophy... yet I am privileged to witness such as this, this (insert random superlative here)...

An odd and long-shot turn of the cosmic Wheel Of Fortune, indeed. I deserve, and accept, no credit; I attribute my situation solely to Chaos, and to Luck, whatever those terms may ultimately mean.

Anyway, see below for some photos (as always, click on the picture for a larger view) of the most amazing (and humbling) place we've ever seen. Nothing else even comes close, not the Alps, not the Andes, not the Amazon, not, not, not...

Well... ahem. The first three are us on the whitewater again. Those of you who read the Missoula post, where we rafted the Blackfoot and damn near froze to death, will remember what I said about whitewater photography. You are far too busy to take photos during the ride. This guide company, however, had a photog on the shore at a rapids called, not inappropriately, 'The Pinball'. ALSO: The company is called Glacier Guides Inc and we heartily recommend them.

http://www.glacierguides.com

Big Water In Pinpall:


And Again:


And A Close-Up:


Just as an aside: during a flat stretch after this section, our guide and river pilot (James, you crack me up!) said that 'this would be a good place to swim beside the raft'. Note that he had already told us the water temperature, per the Park Service that morning, was 43 degrees. Well, those of my readers who know anything about me will understand that I take such comments as dares (remember the half-demolished 500-foot bridge I jumped off in Ecuador 'cause Luis said I wouldn't?). Immediately (and stupidly) I dove into the river. Note the absence of any wet or dry gear; it felt good for about 3 seconds, then I began feeling the initial sysmptoms of hypothermia. Couldn't just jump right back out; by that time I was about 30 feet from the raft, and besides, there was the pride factor. Upshot: about five minutes later, the other rafters hauled me in, I didn't stop shivering for three hours, and next time I will (yeah, sure) think twice about the macho crap.

My Princess At The Entry To Her Magic Kingdom:


The next several pictures were all taken while driving the Going-To-The-Sun Road, a jaw-dropping route that takes you from Lake McDonald at West Glacier, across Logan Pass, and down again to the east park entrance. It is widely known among those who follow such things as an engineering marvel, spectacularly difficult both in its initial construction and, especially, in its year-to-year maintenance. It doesn't even open till about Memorial Day at best, and closes again about September 15th. This year, avalanches and damage kept it closed until June 20th. One of its features is that it is ALWAYS under construction, because of the devilish, destructive jokes played out during the area's inconceivably long and brutal winters. The upshot is that you will inevitably encounter delays driving the route, as one lane or the other is always one-way, with a flagperson directing traffic. The reason I mention these factors, other than the obvious caution that it takes about three hours to go fifty miles, is to note that the delays are not at all cumbersome or boring. You will see why in the following:

Lake McDonald At The West Entrance, Apgar Village:


NOTE: You can't tell from this photo, but this lake is 450 feet deep, and during calm air (usually early morning) you can see ALL THE WAY TO THE BOTTOM.

Not Enigmatic Or Deep, But Cute- Allison Under Waterfall:


McDonald Creek A Little Higher Up:


Curious Bighorn Sheep THREE FEET FROM CAR WINDOW:


LONG-WINDED BUT IMPORTANT NOTE: The previous photo was snapped as we sat in line, waiting our turn to proceed during a construction halt. We were just SITTING there, gawking about, and Allison suddenly exclaimed (unprintable). Scared the hell outta me. I followed her gesture, and there he was. He was standing so still I immediately thought it was just a joke placed there by the road guys, a little chuckle at the dumb tourists' expense. THEN HE BLINKED. We hurriedly took the pic, just as we were forced by traffic to move forward about fifty feet; when I looked back he was nowhere in sight. As we were now stopped again, I got out of the car and looked over the stone guardrail back at where he had been standing. I could not see ANY WAY he could have found a foothold where we saw him; all there was on that side of the rail was a ledge about (I kid you not, I promise) THREE INCHES WIDE, and beyond that a sheer drop of at least three hundred feet to the valley floor. I have no idea how he got there, or where he went after the moment captured above.

Jackson Glacier From Highway:


Another Aspect Of Jackson Glacier:


YET ANOTHER NOTE: In 1900, there were 126 active ice fields in Glacier National Park. As of this year (2008) there are ONLY ABOUT FORTY LEFT. Notwithstanding any of my readers' perceptions or political leanings regarding 'Global Warming', or 'Climate Change', or its causes, long-term effects or solutions, nevertheless the overwhelming majority of credible climatologists and geophysicists now anticipate that they will ALL be gone by the year 2030. That, friends and playmates, is a very short time indeed, and is probably irreversible at this juncture. So if you have any interest in such things, you'd better hurry...

Mountain Goat And Its Rug Monkey At Logan Pass:


Another Mountain Goat, Male, And You Should Read The Note Below:


NOTE BELOW: About ten seconds after this picture was taken (by Allison), this animal quite unexpectedly lowered his head and charged full-tilt at Yours Truly, with the obvious intent of knocking me clean off that mountain. Turf and snow were flyin'! I mean, that dude is FAST. And I'm here to tell you, those horns look LOTS larger, and very sharp indeed, from a distance of eight inches. That's about how close he got before my stunned gray matter sounded a (comically undignified!) retreat. All this was much to the raucous amusement of the approximately twenty other tourists standing around. Sounded just like the baboon house at the zoo. Morons!

Tired now. LOTS of Glacier left. Stay tuned...

I'm back, have to get this finished today 'cause we are packing into the Bighorn National Forest, and Cloud Peak Wilderness, tomorrow (July 20th). Don't wanna get behind again.

At the east gate to Glacier there is a hotel that may be familiar to you if you ever watch PBS programs such as 'Great Lodges Of The National Parks' or anything like them on Travel Channel, Nat Geo, etc...

We drove by this on the way out from the Sun Road, and had to stop in and take some photos. Note that the columns are all made of huge Ponderosa pine trunks. This is, as far as we can tell, unique, at least in the U.S...

Allison's Back Going Up The Driveway:


Reception Desk At Glacier Hotel:


AMAZING Structure! Mezzanine At Glacier Hotel


Glacier Hotel From The Highway:


Next day we got up and, leaving the dogs in the cabin (more about that later), headed off to go into the Glacier back country. We had decided that, since we didn't bring our packs (because we had nowhere to leave the mutts; Glacier has a very strict 'No Pets In The Back Country, They Are Bear Food' policy), we would just do an out-n-back. We chose a trail that climbs about 2500' in a distance of just over four miles, to Snyder Lake just below the Continental Divide.

NOW: for any of you non-hikers out there, to calculate the ferocity of a mountain trail, you divide the trail's aggregate altitude gain by its total length (all in feet), and the answer represents the average percentage of inclination... the steepness. Or, alternatively, the Oh-My-God-This-Is-Killing-Me factor. You don't hafta do the math, I'll do it for ya; this particular example comes out to just about 12% for the duration of the trail.

Again for neophytes and flatlanders, just let me tell you that four miles at an average 12% grade, when hiked over rocky and erratic terrain crisscrossed by snowmelt streams and uncertain footing, is DAMNED HARD. And, it surely is one hell of an accomplishment for a little Lubbock/Dallas girl maiden name a' Songer. I have been very proud of Allison for the manner in which she, asthma and fear of heights and all, fires it up and 'rocks on' up in these mountains; sometimes with a tear, a wheeze, or a sob, but NEVER, NEVER, NEVER giving up.

I thought you all should know that...

Boreal Forest Vegetation, Bottom Of Trail:


Cliff Formations, Continental Divide:


Local Citizen, Right On Trail:


Probably The Only One Tackling This Trail In Sequined Blouse:


A Snowmelt Creek We Had To Cross, Snyder Ridge


On The Bridge At The Lake:


Another View Of The Surroundings:


Taken From The Outlet Logjam:


View Up Toward Divide:


On The Way Down, Pretty Tired Now:


I'm gonna wrap this particular trip up now. Below are some assorted photos that didn't quite fit any of my previous rants.

The Cabin We Stayed In: Not Luxury, But 1/2 Mile From Gate:


View From Our Cabin At Lake 5:


Mountains Above Lake 5 Resort:


And now I'm done with this one. Last word about Glacier: if you haven't been, GO THERE. Go NOW. You will never regret it, and you might if you don't.

S.

Life Is Really Very Short...

... and forever is long. Those of my readers (and I am, perhaps, childishly naive in the assumption that there are any) who come to this little fairy-tale kingdom expecting, or hoping, to receive a daily or weekly dose of my [cheerfully and unapologetically amateur] prose... well, you'll have to revisit one of the previous posts. Or, depending upon the trajectory of Time's Arrow, wait for a future installment; 'those are the things that may be'.

I've kinda been runnin' on empty lately; I guess I've stumbled upon one of the primary reasons that, while everybody says they have an idea for a book they'll write 'someday', almost nobody ends up actually seeing their name on the cover, on the flyleaf, or in the New York Times Book Review. Therefore, to those (and I know you're there) who wish I would just shut my pie-hole... yo, hey, this Bud's for you.

Well. Enough of that. If you're still here, and if you have the time, the battery capacity on your laptop, and enough coffee within convenient reach, here's an avalanche (HA! Region-specific metaphor!) of briefly-captioned photos. With apologies to Rod Serling (may he live on forever in reruns): Presented, For Your Approval...

On Long-Ass Trail To Lewis & Clark Caverns:


Inside L & C Caverns:


Another InSide The Caverns:


Allison In The Big Hole-In-The-Ground:


Madison River Falls In Yellowstone:


Taken In Lewis & Clark State Park:


Chico Hot Springs Lodge And Emigrant Peak:


Allison In Mineral Baths At Chico Hot Springs:


Black Mountain From Paradise Valley At Twilight:


Allison At Chico Hot Springs Resort:


At The Wilderness Boundary, Beartooth-Absaroka:


First View, Packing Over The Ridge, Mystic Lake:


Scary Boulder Field We Packed Over:


This Is The END OF JUNE In Beartooth:


West Rosebud Creek Below Mystic Lake:


Gray Wolf Stalking Elk Calf, Yellowstone:


My Fair Lady At Beartooth Plateau Lookout:


Eastern Valley In Yellowstone:


The Big, Bad Wolf Again:


Scotty And Dogs, Beartooth Plateau:


Out The Windshield, 15-Foot Snowbanks, July 1, Beartooth Plateau:


Scotty And Allison At Some River In Yellowstone:


Mountains By Pilot Peak, Yellowstone:


Allison And Dogs By Snowfield, Blue Lake Trail, Crazy Mountains:


The Blue Lake Trail, Crazy Mtns, July 2; We Had To Turn Back:


Big Timber Creek, Crazy Mountains, So Loud It Hurts:


Scotty On Bridge, Packing Into Crazy Mountains:


Looking Back Toward Trailhead, Crazy Mountains:


Scotty And Anonymous Pack Dog Trying To Get To Blue Lake:


I'm done now, and this account is as up-to-date as it's gonna get. We have about seventy-four gazillion more pictures, and some are VERY cool, but I just can't make myself caption 'em all. Anybody who cares can arrange to intersect with our world-line in real time and real space someday and see them if they want.

We're going to Glacier National Park tomorrow for about four days. Mayhap I'll have something else to say after that. Ciao.