Glacier National Park

by Mike Graf

  Dad’s stomach started gurgling. “Here I go,” he commented. “One mention of supper time and I’m immediately hungry.”

  Eventually the grizzly found the boulder field with the buried calf. She homed in on the carcass and flipped away rocks and small boulders in her immediate vicinity. The large bear quickly unearthed the dead animal.

  The grizzly stuck her muzzle into the moose and ripped into the flesh. The powerful bear stood up with fresh meat dangling from her mouth.

  Meanwhile, the wolf tilted his head up. A whiff of meat aroused his senses. The wolf’s stomach growled and hunger overcame pain. He stood up and hobbled around. Then the wolf set out, limping toward the scent.

  As the Parkers approached the campground, they could hear people. “It’s kind of comforting to have other campers nearby,” Mom admitted.

  They stopped at the beach where they had launched their kayak earlier. Dad walked toward the shoreline. “I want to take in the view once more,” he explained.

  Bowman Lake at twilight was ethereal and mysterious. In the distance, layers of spired peaks were silhouetted against the hazy skies. Dense forests hugged the shoreline. Morgan snapped several photos.

  “It’s quite a place,” Mom commented.

  “But you can tell there’s a forest fire burning,” Dad added. “The visibility just isn’t what I’d expect.”

  Then hunger got the best of the family, and they trudged back to camp.

  The wolf came to the edge of the forest. He peered out and saw a grizzly bear pawing away at a dead animal. The wolf bared his fangs and quietly snarled. He took a few cautious steps toward the bear.

  The grizzly stopped eating. She sniffed the air, then stood on her hind legs while bobbing her head back and forth.

  The wolf crouched down and stared at the upright bear, and at the carcass next to her. After a moment, the wolf turned and trotted away.

  4

  The next day the Parkers broke camp at Bowman Lake. They drove back down the gravel road, through Polebridge, and eventually returned to the south end of the park.

  At Apgar, Mom turned the car northeast. The family drove past the long and densely forested shoreline of Lake McDonald, heading toward the park’s high peaks. Eventually Mom pulled the car into Avalanche Creek Campground.

  The Parkers drove around and chose an open, flat spot surrounded by tall trees. They set up, then packed for a hike up to Avalanche Lake.

  The first part of the trail was on a wooden walkway through a dense cedar and hemlock forest. The Parkers strolled along, admiring the large trees and reading signs about the old-growth forest and how Native Americans used the trees to make boats and other supplies.

  At the end of the boardwalk, the family approached a railing over-looking a narrow gorge cut by a rushing stream. They stopped there and peered into Avalanche Gorge.

  “That’s a beautiful little mini-canyon,” Mom said. “And look at the ferns growing right out of the rock walls where it stays cool and moist all the time.”

  The Parkers admired the gorge for a few minutes before continuing on.

  After two miles of trekking through the forest, the family made it to Avalanche Lake. They stepped off the trail and onto the lake’s pebbly shoreline. Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad gazed at the aqua waters surrounded by cliffs and high mountains. At the far end of the lake, several waterfalls cascaded from above.

  Mom pulled out the binoculars and looked all around. She noticed people at the lake’s opposite end. “Let’s head over there,” she suggested, “and have a little picnic.”

  After eating again, the grizzly used her paw to shove dirt over the carcass. Then she walked up to an open, grassy slope.

  The bear stepped into the meadow, glanced back at her cache, looked all around, then sat down.

  Meanwhile, the smell of carrion continued to waft into the air. The wolf, unable to resist, again trotted toward the scent, saliva dripping from his teeth.

  When the wolf reached the clearing, he spotted the partially buried carcass in the distance, but the grizzly appeared to be gone. He limped cautiously toward the food, unburied the stash, and quickly ripped off a small piece of flesh.

  The grizzly, sensing an intruder in the vicinity, lifted her head. The large bear sniffed the air and recognized the scent of another predator. She plowed through the brush, heading back to the carcass.

  The wolf heard the bear first, then saw it crash through the bushes.

  As the bear ran up, the wolf backpedaled, then circled around and dashed at the bear’s rear end, nipping at the grizzly’s hindquarters and pulling out a tuft of fur. The bear turned and charged the wolf, but the intruder hopped backward and managed to keep his distance.

  The wolf closed in again, biting away another chunk of fur from the back end of the bear. The bear whirled and chased the wolf several yards away toward some trees.

  Then the grizzly returned to her food. The wolf cautiously followed, again trying to nip the bear’s behind.

  This time the bear whipped around and swiped her paw at the wolf, catching the intruder and giving him a glancing blow across his side with her sharp, powerful claws.

  The wolf yelped and stumbled several feet, then jumped away and hobbled into the forest, leaving the bear and carcass behind.

  Later, with several miles between him and the bear, the wolf stopped next to the roots of a large tree. He licked the gashes on his side, lay down, then tended to his new injuries some more.

  Eventually, the large grizzly flipped the calf’s jumbled bones. She looked them over before walking away. The bear then began a long trek toward Glacier’s high country and the east side of the park, where the sweet taste of berries awaited.

  Back at camp, the Parkers munched on cookies while darkness engulfed the dense forest. “It sure is quiet around here,” Mom said.

  Dad glanced up from his book. “I do miss having a fire.”

  “Me too,” Morgan added. “It makes hanging out at camp feel safer.”

  The wolf tilted his head up and howled. After a few more calls, the injured canine whimpered, then lay down for the evening.

  5

  The next day the Parkers got off to an early start.

  The road east of Avalanche followed McDonald Creek. Far above, a solitary peak spiked high into the air. Its snowfields glistened in the morning sun.

  James stared at the picturesque mountain, then checked his map. “It’s Heavens Peak, I think.”

  “How high is it?” Morgan asked.

  “8,987 feet.”

  Mom suddenly slowed down the car. “Well, if we have a little bit of heaven up there, look at what we have down here.”

  Right in the middle of the road was a large, fresh-looking pile of bear scat.

  “Hmm,” Dad pondered as he gazed into the forest. “I wonder how far away the culprit is.”

  A large bird with a white head circled far above the marsh. It spiraled upward on the morning’s rising warm-air currents, gliding along until it spotted something below.

  The eagle slowly drifted down.

  Suddenly, it tucked its wings and quickly descended, landing on the limb of a tree.

  The bald eagle gazed at a jumbled mass of bones.

  The bird hopped from its perch and found a piece of stringy leftover tissue and tugged at it with its beak. The elastic tendon stretched out, causing the eagle to hop back. Finally, the meat ripped off the bone and the raptor devoured it.

  A raven landed a few yards away. It tilted its head sideways and eyed the carcass. The black bird hopped a few feet closer.

  The eagle squawked and spread its wings, then stared at the intruder.

  The raven hopped closer to the hoof of the calf, at the opposite end of the carcass. The smaller bird began pecking away at this part of the dead animal.

  Soon, another raven joined the feast.

  Mom slowed the car again. Two bicyclists were stopped ahead. They straddled their bikes as they peered forward.

  M
organ saw why the cyclists were stopped. “Look, a bear!”

  The black bear sat in the middle of the highway, far ahead of the riders. It stared at the two people, and they stared back.

  Mom pulled up right behind the cyclists while Dad leaned out the window. “How long has it been there?”

  One of the riders turned his head halfway. “We’ve been here about ten minutes, and it hasn’t budged.”

  A car approached from the opposite direction. The black bear turned around and rambled into the forest.

  The cyclists looked at each other. “I guess we should go now,” one said.

  “But what if it’s right behind those trees?” the other replied.

  Mom heard the conversation. “We’ll escort you,” she called out.

  Mom drove slowly past the cyclists so they could follow. As the group crept by the place where the bear had disappeared, everyone peered into the woods, looking for the large animal.

  After a few minutes, one of the cyclists gave Mom a thumbs-up sign. She waved to them and sped up, leaving the bikers behind.

  The Parkers continued on, reaching a large bend in the road called The Loop. The road climbed steadily, Heavens Peak looming in the west.

  James leaned forward from the backseat. “You can see the road up there.”

  “All the way until the gap near the top,” Dad added. “Just like the road is heading toward the sun.”

  CLIMBING TO THE SUN

  Going-to-the-Sun Road is the main highway in the middle of Glacier National Park. It takes visitors up over Logan Pass and through some of the most spectacular scenery in the park. The road is named after nearby Going-to-the-Sun Mountain.

  Up to eighty feet of snow can accumulate on Logan Pass, forming what’s called the Big Drift. Because of deep, late snows and poor visibility, the road takes about twelve weeks to plow in the spring. Logan Pass is usually open from mid-June to mid-October.

  Before the road was finished in 1933, it took visitors three to four days to get across the park.

  The road climbed on, hugging a cliff on the right. A small stone wall protected drivers from a long tumble should they accidentally veer off course.

  Mom maneuvered carefully around a bend. “This is quite a road!” she exclaimed.

  The family passed a long, continuous shower of water cascading onto the highway. “The Weeping Wall,” Mom announced, reading the sign.

  Across the way, a plume of water fell below several peaks and snow-fields. The Parkers passed a sign pointing it out as Bird Woman Falls.

  Morgan leaned forward. “Is that snow above the falls a glacier?”

  “It’s hard to tell from here,” Dad replied. “Can you see what the map says, James?”

  But James was staring at something far above. He studied the two distant objects until he saw one of them move. “There are two animals up there!”

  Morgan tried to look out James’s window. “I want to see too.”

  Mom took a quick peek then said, “I really need to keep an eye on the road.” She noticed a turnout ahead. Mom pulled over and the Parkers scrambled out of the car.

  James pointed up the mountain. “There they are!”

  The two animals were perched on a rock, gazing down on the road.

  “What are they?” Morgan wondered aloud. “They’re light brown like some grizzlies, but much smaller.”

  “Are they cubs?” James asked.

  Dad grabbed the binoculars and focused on the animals. “I see,” he announced. “They’re not bears at all.”

  Dad passed the binoculars to Mom. Mom took a look. “Marmots!” she exclaimed.

  The Parkers gazed at the perched rodents. Just then, the two cyclists slowly huffed by. Dad noticed sweat dripping down their faces. “How’s it going?” he asked with concern.

  “It’s quite a climb,” one of the riders replied between breaths.

  “And we have to be at the summit before 11 AM!” the other added.

  “Do you need anything?” Dad asked.

  “Thank you, we’re okay,” the first cyclist responded.

  Dad got into the car and looked at his watch. “It’s 10:30,” he said. “I hope they make it.”

  “Why do they have to be at the top by then?” James asked.

  “The park wants all cyclists off the winding west side of the road by eleven because the traffic gets too heavy after that.”

  The family piled back into the car, and Mom continued driving toward the summit. As she approached the cyclists chugging along, a car passed going the opposite direction. Mom slowed down, staying behind the riders. “There just isn’t any extra room on this road!” she exclaimed.

  After the car passed, Mom inched by.

  Morgan leaned forward and spoke to Dad. “Are you sure you want to ride this road?”

  “I’m sure I want to try,” Dad replied. “I’m going to ride from east to west. There’s less traffic on that side of the park.”

  The Parkers drove the last stretch before the pass. They passed a small parking area and a cascading waterfall. At the summit, several cyclists were dismounting their bikes. They leaned them up against a sign that said LOGAN PASS 6,646 FEET ELEVATION. One of the bikers took a picture of their whole group.

  Mom pulled the car into a crowded, busy parking lot, and the Parkers climbed out. James noticed the hazy, smoke-filled skies to the east. “It must be a huge fire,” he said.

  6

  The wolf lay among a series of tree roots deep in the forest. He licked his injuries again, but didn’t try to stand.

  Two squirrels scampered about in the forest nearby.

  A high-pitched call signaled some intended meaning from one to the other.

  One of the squirrels frantically dashed down the trunk of a tree. It scurried across the forest floor with the other running after it. The lead squirrel jumped onto the base of another tall pine. The two squirrels chased each other in circles, spiraling up the trunk until they reached the upper branches of the tree. One began nibbling a cone, dropping the shavings onto the forest floor. Soon the other was chasing after it again, both scampering down the tree and onto the ground.

  The scrawny, famished wolf kept still while staring at the unsuspecting squirrels as they ran right toward the carnivore. He tensed and waited, then pounced, landing with his paw on a squirrel’s back. The wolf pinned the squirrel down and bit off its back end, swallowing the whole chunk. The other squirrel dashed away, wailing, into the trees.

  The wolf chomped further into what was left of the squirrel. A few quick bites, and the whole animal was gone.

  The grizzly crossed an alpine region of grasses and tiny flowers along the Continental Divide. The bear rambled across a small, melting glacier.

  Eventually she meandered down from the alpine zone. Far below, a deep, cobalt blue lake glistened in the sun. The lake was dotted with small floating chunks of ice.

  The grizzly noticed people sitting on rocks near the lake. She gazed at them, watching for movement, then continued downward until she entered a forest filled with thick shrubs.

  A clump of red berries caught the bear’s attention. She wandered closer and lifted a paw to bend the shrub toward her. The grizzly opened her mouth and swallowed a cluster of tiny, sweet fruits. Then she stood up and searched around for more.

  The grizzly rambled from one buffalo berry patch to another, devouring as many of the delicacies as she could find. Then she paused from her feast and sniffed the air.

  Far below her were a sow and two cubs. The large bear watched them for several minutes as they, too, fed among clumps of bushes, then she dropped down and foraged for more berries.

  The Parkers joined a small group of people behind the Logan Pass Visitor Center. A ranger was standing on a rock, giving a talk. “Thousands of years ago, immense rivers of ice carved both sides of the park,” he said, then pointed east. “We know that because of the massive U-shaped valleys.

  “And because of the glaciers’ impact,” the ranger con
tinued, “the park was named after them. In the 1800s, there were at least 150 glaciers here. Now, due to climate change, less than 25 glaciers remain, and that number is quickly dropping.”

  The ranger turned and looked at the mountain behind him. “Clements Mountain used to have one of those glaciers. But it expired around 1938. The current projection is that all of the park’s glaciers will be completely gone by around 2020. They are rushing to oblivion.

  “But global warming affects more than glaciers. It can change meadows, raise tree line, and alter food sources for animals. And although it may be too late to save the glaciers here, we can all consider changing our habits to reduce pollution, which is heating up our atmosphere.”

  The ranger ended his talk, then stayed around to answer some questions.

  The Parkers began their journey toward Hidden Lake.

  “So,” James said, “whatever glaciers we see on this trip, we may never see again.”

  “Unless we come back real soon,” Morgan replied.

  “I want to see as many as possible, then,” James announced.

  “Me too,” said Dad.

  The Parkers trekked up a series of wooden steps. Soon they approached a large mound of rocks near the foot of Clements Mountain.

  On the way to Hidden Lake.

  “There’s the old moraine from the glacier,” Dad realized. “It’s where the ice pushed the rocks before the glacier receded.”

  The Parkers gazed at the alpine scenery. Wildflowers filled the meadows off the boardwalk. “Look at all the bear grass stalks,” Mom said. The tall white flower was splashed throughout the meadow.

  “Are they named that because bears eat them?” James asked.

  “More because they grow in typical bear habitat,” Mom replied.