Day 29: Glacier Before the Fire

I’m not sure what I expected from Glacier National Park. It wasn’t amazing lakes and sprawling vistas. It wasn’t a drive through a quiet valley leading to a drive hanging on to the side of a mountain. It wasn’t the green or the crags or the hills or the falls. It wasn’t temps warm enough to take off our shoes and dangle our feet over the end of the dock at Lake McDonald or water so clear you could see the rock bed until it simply got too deep.

I guess maybe I expected ice? Glaciers? I don’t think I expected to be as awakened to the changes in our Earth as I was.

I know I didn’t expect to find the bar at the Lake McDonald Lodge to be jam packed with people watching golf.

That really shouldn’t have surprised me. Golf fans are die hard, regardless of the fact that they’re sitting in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Which is outside. Not in the bar.

Behind the lodge is a wonderful little spot where a creek comes out to meet the lake.

I had to wade into the cold water first, urging Earl to come on and have fun with me. Eventually, she dipped a toe in to the chilly waters. Then she couldn’t stop playing on the rocks, feet slipping and water burbling and her smiling a mile wide, stopping to look at the peaks around her.

“This is so beautiful!”

That’s putting it mildly.

I’d done very little reading on Glacier before we got there. I had no idea what lay before us as we headed back through the lodge to our car to continue along Going-to-the-Sun.

In this peaceful, serene place, I didn’t expect Earl to lose a little more gleeful innocence as we watched three old friends, fresh from watching golf in the bar, get into their car. A little old man got behind the wheel, a little old woman in the passenger seat beside him, their little old friend in the backseat behind the driver. Only the driver started slowly rolling too soon. The friend lost his balance and fell, his leg going under the car, which was still rolling. His screams of agony stayed with us for hours.

I’m sure he was injured, his leg probably broken. I’m almost as sure he survived. Park rangers are prompt responders, and despite the screams, from our vantage point a few yards away, it seemed much more minor than it could have been.

We stopped at a pull-out about a mile way to pray. God feels very present in this place. It was fitting.

I took way too many pictures along the valley road, trying to squelch the part of my brain that was protesting, “I thought it would be more spectacular somehow.” Then we crossed through a tunnel…

…and I didn’t stop gaping for the next two hours.

The road clung to the side of the mountain, and the overlooks felt like they dangled over the deepening valley below. Even Earl was blown away.

Bird Woman Falls trails down the mountains from an extinct glacier bed. You can tell there used to be glacial activity there by the smooth U-shaped valley between the jagged peaks.

I’m running out of adjectives to describe what we saw.

The mountain goats even have to stop and admire all that’s around them from time to time.

There is still snow in places, and Earl and I tried to discern glaciers from lingering snow patches.

The reality is harsh. The glaciers are mostly gone here. In fact, they are predicted to be completely melted by the time Earl turns 25.

She just turned 10. That’s not long at all.

Only one can still be seen clearly from the road. Jackson Glacier sits clinging to life between the mountains it has sculpted.

It was a sobering view, a jarring moment. Like seeing one of the last survivors of a dying species. How much of this is Earth’s natural cycle? How much is us?

I gave many thanks that we had decided to make the detour, if only so Earl can someday tell her children that she visited Glacier when there were still glaciers to see.

Of course, as we learned earlier in the day, not even Glacier is immune to the realities of life. We got stuck in construction traffic as we approached St. Mary’s Lake. Serendipitous because BEAR!! Not a cow this time, but an actual bear!

A camera shy bear eating berries, but we saw a bear!

Construction cleared, I stopped one last time for a snapshot of the lake and the sun peering through the dark clouds all around us.

The day after we visited, Earl and I were heartsick to hear that Going-to-the-Sun Road had been partially closed due to wildfire that continues to burn not far at all from where I snapped this picture.

“Is the park going to burn down?” she asked.

“No, baby. It’s a small fire compared to the size of the park.”

“But the road is closed? All those people can’t see the views now. We were lucky.”

Yes, yes we were.