9/2 -- Glacier National Park Hiking and Exploration

We got up early to get on the road to the main park visitor center early and ran into a couple glitches -- the restaurant for breakfast opened about 10 minutes AFTER we got there and the visitor's center opened 15 minutes after we arrived. Apparently things slow down RIGHT AWAY after Labor Day. And we could hardly fault the restaurant, which opened around 7 -- besides us, only 2 other folks dropped in for coffee and left.

It was a bit windy.

We started out driving up the Going-to-the-Sun Road, two lanes with lots of turnouts to look at the lakes, rivers, and mountains. The speed limit ranges from 25mph to 40 depending on the frequency of curves, so the 32 miles takes quite a while. The temperature forecast at our hotel was a high of 73, so we dressed in light weight clothes, tho fortunately, we picked closed shoes and long pants. Turns out the forecast at Logan Pass was 56 and it was 47 and VERY windy when we arrived. I brought my running shoes for hiking and the wind whistled right through the mesh and chilled my toes! The good news was that we had left our big suitcase with the cold weather clothes for the end of the trip in the car so I was able to unearth warm hats, gloves, and a scarf with no difficulty. Boy did they help!

More comfortable bundled up. Hiking poles
help up hills -- arms assist the legs

Coyote looking for a meal

 Since the visitor's center was closed, we headed off on an unplanned hike to the Hidden Lake Overlook. It was about 1.5 miles each way -- into the wind on the way out and uphill about 600 feet -- and we were at about 6800 feet in altitude already, so a breathless trip at the start. On the way, we saw a coyote searching the rocks for ground squirrels (which we also saw, later) and 4 mountain goats - two mom/youngster pairs, one very close to the trail and the other further off. On the way back we watched a marmot scamper across the meadow and cross the hiking path to his burrow, then run further on. The scenery was great too, when I could catch my breath and not have to cover my ears to protect them from the wind the hat didn't keep out.

We also stopped at a sign that marked the continental divide -- depending on where a raindrop falls it rolls north, east, or west.

After that hike, we headed the rest of the way across the park and went north to the Many Glaciers area. On the way, we took pictures of the most significant glacier still visible from the road and a tiny island in St. Mary's Lake that is quite the contrast to the magnificent surrounding mountains.

The Johnson Glacier. Most of the snowy stuff in our photos
is probably snow fields, not glaciers. Movement defines the glaciers.

Wild Goose Island

Formerly hungry ground squirrel posing for Jim

 A flat hike to a waterfall had been recommended, but we were more intrigued by a longer one to Ptarmigan Falls with a little more elevation gain, but this area was about 2000 feet lower, so it seemed to be worth the risk. In the beginning, I started to question my decision because it felt like 600 of the 700 foot elevation gain was in the first half mile. Kind of like how the 6 mile Dipsea Run in Mill Valley starts with a run up 700 steps before leveling out. After questioning some folks coming back from the hike, we decided to persevere. The falls were lovely, though hard to photograph because of the tree cover. We stopped for a bit and ate our lunch of snacks and got a visit from a ground squirrel hoping to score some crumbs. He posed quite nicely for us too. Going down was a lot faster, but I discovered my running shoes are not up to a 10-11 mile hiking day -- not sturdy enough to deal with the rocks and my feet slide forward on downhills, so my toes kept bumping.

Jim at the bridge overlooking Ptarmigan Falls

Many Glacier valley

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at the St. Mary's visitor center to ask about where the glaciers were when I last drove through in 1959 and 1962. I clearly remember walking up an inclined meadow no more than 100 feet to get to a snowfield and making snowballs with my brothers. I had assumed this was a glacier. Turns out I was wrong. The glaciers have receded dramatically, especially in the last 50 years, and they are estimated to disappear entirely between 2020 and 2030. But in the 1950s and 60s, they never came down to the meadows we drove past. Apparently it had been a relatively heavy snowfall year combined with a relatively cool summer that left a huge snowfield so close to the road in July or August.

I think we kind of overdid the hiking today -- over 26,000 steps and the equivalent of climbing 180 floors -- because our plans to drive to Whitefish to dinner at a place Beth and Norm recommended fell apart.

Waiting behind a bunch of other cars for our turn at the
single lane road.

The drive back to the hotel didn't help either. It took us 2 full hours to go about 60 miles.  A huge section of the Going-to-the-Sun Road is under construction, involving 4 areas of one-way travel, including one where the wait was probably 10-15 minutes and horribly slow all the way through. We also kept encountering cars from the Wisconsin, Illinois, and Iowa that were apparently iffy on the concept of how to drive in hills and curves because they couldn't manage to even go as fast as the already slow speed limit. One 12 mile section had no passing and a 25mph limit and someone from Iowa not only could hardly manage going 20, he did not have the good sense to notice that 30 cars had stacked up behind him and that he should have pulled over to let them pass. By the time we got back to the hotel, we were done for the night.