Glacier Misadventuring

(Gunsight Lake from Gunsight Pass trail)

We were both really excited to get to Glacier National Park, with hundreds of trail options the adventures seemed endless.  Ideally, we wanted a loop that would give us 2 or 3 nights in the backcountry and 20 to 35 miles under foot.  Unfortunately, we arrived on a weekend and the majority of the backcountry campsites were booked solid, leaving us with few options.  Ryan desperately wanted a glacier crossing (or at the very least a large snowfield) so we set out to cross Gunsight Pass.  This traverse goes from the Lake McDonald Lodge and 22 miles later puts you within range of the shuttle at the Jackson Glacier overlook.  We loaded up our packs with everything we could possibly need for multiple nights camping as well as axes and crampons for the pass.  We did the traverse backwards, so we got to take the shuttle to the other side of the park.  Whereas most shuttle rides are relaxing and scenic, when a blowout or minor collision is all that stands between you and certain death, the Glacier shuttle hardly qualifies as a day at the spa.  As most of you know, having been through one accident where a seatbelt allowed me to walk away, I always advocate them and never pass up restraints whether the Civic, a cab, or a school bus.  However....  on this road, it doesn't matter if you are strapped in, that just means you might still be conscious when the top-heavy shuttle tips of the cliff and bursts into flames 1500 feet later.  Thus, I made my first well-thought decision NOT to wear a seatbelt.     

We were dropped off at the trail head and slowly made our way to camp by Gunsight Lake.  Camp was absolutely beautiful, with the top photo for this post as well as many of the following originating from the scenic vistas our quarters featured.  We cooked dinner, greeted our fellow hikers, and when the rain started headed to our tent for some quality reading and mosquito-swatting (seriously, these little finch-sized bastards put the Ocracoke swarms to shame).  On the topic of fellow hikers, we had quite the crew this time.  The feature being John, the 75+, recently divorced (for a West Palm Beacher 25 years his junior), expert old-school adventurer and solo hiker.  John doesn't believe in bear mace (apparently talking to the Grizzlies suffices) and just won an iPad and was curious as to what it does (this, however, I  couldn't answer since I haven't a clue as to why the iPad is a hit, give it a webcam and a usb port for uploading photos, then we'll talk).  Anyhow, after socializing with him and the rest at breakfast, we headed up the trail to see if we could conquer the pass.    

Less than 2 miles up the trail, we hit snow.  Rumors of sketchy crossings were instilled in our minds by the Rangers prior to our departure, but we thought they wouldn't become a problem until near the pass.  Wrong.  Ryan grabbed the axes, strapped on his crampons, and stepped out on to the 45 degree, 40 foot wide snowfield (see below).... and his feet started to slide.  For those of you not familiar with mountaineering, crampons are essentially spiked extensions of your shoe soles, so if they slide, you are back in square one.  Theoretically, the ice axes are great back up, but if they aren't sticking, they are worthless.  So, on this fairly narrow, but steep patch of snow (but with huge consequences, on the order of hundreds of feet to the rocky lake shore below), we found ourselves having to make the call that everyone hates.  Do you go and risk it?  Or do you stay and lose sleep over it for days, weeks, or years?  In the end, we decided to stay, partially because if the snow was in such poor conditions early on, who knows what the crossings were like up on the pass.  Also, because if I ended up sliding head first to my demise on his watch, my mother would see to it that Ryan experienced the same fate.  

Although we didn't get to complete Mission Gunsight, we were still able to get some great photos and enjoy a great lunch by the lake.  We will both admit, the hike back out was pretty miserable, the mosquitos somehow multiplied exponentially overnight and we got rained on.  However, once back on the shuttle, we discovered a group of hikers that ended up stranded and needed a ride to their car.  With no plans for the evening since we were out of the backcountry, we offered to take one of them ~45 minutes to their vehicle.  Apparently we have a knack for stumbling upon these people, because Ryan now refers to us as the Rescue Rangers, since we are the only ones who seem to be willing to drive the wet, lost, stranded, and desperate back to their vehicles (which generally seem to be well past b.f.e).  So, once we returned our new absolutely adorable First Baptist preacher-friend from Meridian, Mississippi to his car, we headed back to Apgar for a delicious camp dinner and some much needed rest.  

Although it wasn't quite the trip we had planned, our Glacier misadventure ended up being just what we needed.  A couple days of hiking with our overloaded packs inspired us to be much more efficient for future expeditions (or just appreciate day hikes that much more).  We were able to help out a group of people that could really use it, thus hopefully inspiring them to do the same for others in the future.  There weren't any bear sightings, but we did get to see moose, elk, deer, and even a mountain goat-let.  Ryan and I enjoyed some quality tent and wilderness time, as well as some great food across Montana.  The geology is absolutely spectacular, with gorgeously classic examples glacial processes.  In the end, I'd call it a success, but as we head north to Banff and west to the Cascades, I know that we both hope for the type of adventuring where the box is definitively checked at the end of the day...