by Mike Graf
Mom gazed at their surroundings. “And I thought yesterday’s trail was magnificent. This is unreal!” she cried, awestruck.
The trail steepened again. It soon led directly into a narrow slot in the rock wall. Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad peered up into the opening at a series of cemented rock stairs. A cable was bolted into the stones for hikers to hold on to.
“The rock staircase,” Dad recalled. “I remember reading about this.”
One by one, the family hauled themselves up the stairs. They regrouped at the top, where it was breezy and noticeably cooler.
The Parkers gazed in wonder at the massive slabs of ice and chunks of glacier to their left and right. In the distance, the largest of the ice fields loomed. “Wow!” Dad gasped. “This is even better than I expected.”
Morgan took several photos at Comeau Pass. The Parkers noticed small rock piles, or cairns, indicating the path to the main part of the glacier. Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad trekked on. They climbed a finger of rock, then dropped down to a tongue of ice, crossed it, and climbed again. At the top of each mound was another cairn with a post in it. The Parkers kept hiking.
Finally, Dad noticed a small weather station, its anemometer, for measuring wind speed, spinning in the breeze. From there, the Parkers stared at the largest remaining part of Sperry Glacier. The mass of ice dipped down from the mountain with a distinct set of cracks near the top.
James looked at his father. “Let’s climb Mt. Everest next!” he said enthusiastically.
Dad put his arm around James. “It does seem like we’re doing that type of an excursion, doesn’t it?”
Mom took a deep breath. “It’s hard to imagine this glacier being gone in ten or so years. It’s still quite large.”
The family found a place to sit down and study the scene. Below the glacier, a couple of turquoise ponds were filled with its meltwater.
James pulled out his map. “I think,” he checked again, “that below those ponds is Avalanche Lake, where we were the other day.”
“Doesn’t that seem so long ago?” Mom mused.
A crackling, tumbling sound came from the ice. Across the way a few small rocks had broken off a cliff and rolled onto the glacier. The rocks soon stopped and settled on the bare ice. Then all became quiet again.
Morgan fished through her day pack and pulled out her journal.
Dear Diary:
Here I am at one of the largest remaining glaciers in the park, Sperry Glacier. To me the area seems like a construction zone. There are piles of rock and ice all over. And it’s quite a sight to see. I wish we could have been here when all these separate pieces of the glacier were still together. The glacier would have been huge then!
I would also like to see some of the other glaciers in the park before it’s too late. Speaking of coming back, that’s what a lot of people at the chalet have done. I guess Glacier really draws people. Maybe I’ll work at one of the park’s chalets in the summer when I get older.
Anyway, we have to go back down the trail—all the way to Lake McDonald. It’s going to be a long downhill journey, so we have to get going soon.
Sincerely yours from Sperry Glacier,
Morgan
The Parkers looked over Sperry Glacier once more.
Mom glanced at her family. “I guess we better skedaddle.”
They began their trek back.
Along the way, James kept sniffing. Morgan looked at her brother. “Are you crying?”
“No, cold,” James answered. “But I have to admit, I am sad. I wish I could see this glacier every day.”
As they started to climb down the rock stairs, Greg and Corinne were heading up. The Parkers stopped and waited for them at the top.
“Welcome to the rooftop of the world,” Mom announced.
James pointed ahead. “Wait till you get up there.”
“We’re on our way!” Corinne said.
Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad continued down. Eventually they returned to the junction near the chalet. The Parkers hiked on, heading toward Lake McDonald, far below.
13
They reached their car in the late afternoon. After checking in to the lodge at Lake McDonald, they showered, ate dinner, and went to bed early. It had been a long day.
The next morning, James opened his eyes and checked to see if anyone else was awake. His dad’s snoring assured James they were going to hang around in their room at least a little while longer.
After a few minutes, James quietly pulled out his journal. He tiptoed outside, sat down in a chair on the porch, and wrote:
This is James Parker reporting.
My family and I are basking in the safety and comfort of a cabin at Lake McDonald. My mom says we deserve this after the hike we were on.
But what a hike it was! We saw glaciers, waterfalls, and high mountain lakes, all surrounded by sculpted glaciated peaks. Dad says it was like walking in a postcard. I know I’ll never forget it.
So here we are with a few more days left in the park, but I’m not sure what we’ll do. We found out yesterday that the fires are spreading. It’s kind of weird, because this park is known for glaciers and ice.
Anyway, I better go see if anyone’s rustling out of bed.
Reporting from Glacier,
James Parker
The grizzly lumbered along, finding stray ripe berries here and there. Many branches had been stripped during the feeding frenzy of the last few days.
The bear heard human voices far below.
The grizzly found a rock and stood with her front legs propped on it to look. She saw a large group of people snaking up a path. The grizzly rambled up the mountain, getting far away from the voices.
At the northern end of the park, a few leaves blew on top of the half-buried moose calf’s bones. Flies buzzed around and landed on rotten pieces of flesh. Beetles and maggots crawled on the carcass, eating the remains.
Eventually Morgan, Mom, and Dad all managed to get up. They moved slowly while packing. Dad lifted a duffel bag and arched his back. “Man, I’m sore,” he said.
“You’re getting older,” Morgan replied with a mischievous smile.
After checking out, the family ate a hearty brunch of omelets, French toast, pancakes, and potatoes at a restaurant nearby. Then they crossed Going-to-the-Sun Road once more, seeing several mountain goats near the summit.
Mom pulled the car over at the St. Mary Falls trailhead. “Shall we give this a try?” she asked her family. Dad got out and stretched and yawned. “It’s only a short trail,” he reassured everyone.
The Parkers hiked slowly to the falls. Once there, they stood on a footbridge and admired the churning aqua water as it roared out of its gorge toward St. Mary Lake.
After a few minutes, the family tromped back, stopping at a sandy beach along the way. Mom found a place to sit, and she spread out a large blanket. They spent the next couple of hours hanging out next to the lake. Morgan and James took an occasional dip in the water while their parents rested and read.
Fresh, dark smoke continued billowing up from just over the mountain. Soon the sky became even more obscured. “We should probably go,” Mom announced, looking at the orange-ish haze across the horizon.
They returned to Rising Sun Campground and found an empty site. After setting up their tent, Mom and Dad made pasta for dinner.
Afterward, Dad studied the smoke-filled skies. “This is really sad, how bad the fires are. What the park needs is a good rain. And that doesn’t appear to be in the forecast.”
Later that evening, Dad pulled out his bike. Mom saw Dad tinkering with it and quickly stood up. “I’m going to get some supplies at the lodge store.” She walked over to Dad and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Dad put the wheels back on his bike and checked the derailleur and brakes. He oiled the chain while Morgan and James watched.
“Are you looking forward to the ride?” James asked.
“Absolutely. Going-to-the-Sun Roa
d is supposed to be one of the best rides anywhere. That’s why I brought the bike.”
Morgan asked, “When are you leaving?”
“Right after sunrise. I want to beat the traffic.”
Dad pumped up his tires, then locked the bike to the picnic table. Just then a ranger walked up. “How are you folks doing?”
“Great,” James replied.
“What’s up with the fires?” Dad asked.
“We’re watching their progress and trying to control them. It’s a daily battle we’ve been fighting for weeks now. There are multiple fires in and around the park to deal with.” The ranger noticed Dad’s bike. “I see you’re getting ready for a ride.”
“Yeah, up Going-to-the-Sun Road,” Dad answered.
“Well, it’s best to go early,” the ranger suggested. “There are fewer cars and typically less smoke in the morning. But keep your eyes on the sky and know we will be too in case any emergencies come up. Hope you have a great ride!” The ranger trotted off to visit other campers.
A few minutes later, Mom returned and hastily put the groceries in the car. Eventually the Parkers piled into their tent.
• • •
At 6 AM Dad’s cell phone alarm played an inspirational song. Dad squirmed out of his sleeping bag, grabbed the pile of clothes he had laid out the night before, and began crawling out of the tent.
Mom held up Dad’s cell phone. “Are you going to take this?” she asked.
Dad turned and paused for a second, thinking. “No,” he replied, “I haven’t been getting good reception in the park.”
After changing into his riding clothes in the car, Dad slipped on his biking shoes and unlocked the bike. Then something in his peripheral vision caused him to look up.
Morgan, James, and Mom were standing there, waiting to send him off.
Dad glanced at his watch. “I should be back in about three hours,” he estimated. “Somewhere around nine.”
“Be safe,” Mom said. “Have fun!”
“Bye, Dad,” Morgan and James added.
Dad hopped onto the saddle and began pedaling. He waved to his family before disappearing down the road.
As soon as Dad turned onto the highway, he began climbing.
As Dad pedaled along, St. Mary Lake glistened on his left and a dense forest hugged the road on his right.
“Hey, bear!” Dad shouted into the forest between breaths.
The morning sun was warm, and Dad was sweating. A plume of dark smoke billowed up from the mountains to the east of St. Mary Lake.
Dad pushed harder as the grade steepened. He felt as if he was moving in slow motion. Dad started to feel a tiny bump each time his back wheel made a complete circle. It got worse and worse. Finally, it increased to the point that he could no longer ignore it. He looked down. “Oh, no!” Dad mumbled to himself.
Dad pedaled on, trying to avoid the inevitable. He rounded a bend just as his back wheel started thumping loudly.
To his dismay, Dad saw a pile of fresh bear scat right in the middle of the road. As Dad rode slowly parallel to it, he could see pieces of undigested red berries sprinkled throughout the droppings. “Hey, bear!” Dad shouted with renewed anxiety.
Dad again glanced down at his back wheel. His tire was now completely flat. He had no choice but to stop.
He quickly pulled over right across from the scat. Dad gazed into the forest. “Hey, bear! Just fixing a flat. Don’t mind me!”
Dad pulled the hand pump off the bike and attached it to the valve on the back tire. He pumped vigorously, then stopped. A distinct whistle of air escaped from the inner tube.
Dad pulled the pump off and felt the tire. It was flat again.
Working quickly, Dad pulled some small tools from the pouch beneath his seat. He took his back wheel off the bike, pried off the old tire, and yanked out the flat tube. Dad inspected the tire for thorns or glass but couldn’t find anything. He grabbed a new tube from the pouch and pumped a tiny bit of air into it. Just as he fitted the tube into the tire, he heard a car approaching.
The car slowed down, and the driver rolled down the window. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I just got a flat.”
“Well, you might not want to hear this, but we just saw a bear.”
Dad stopped working and looked at the driver. “What kind?”
“A black bear.”
Dad laughed. “I wonder if it’s the same one that’s been pooping on the highway.”
The man glanced into his rearview mirror. He saw another car coming down the road. “I better get going,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Dad nodded, and the man waved as he pulled away.
Dad hastily finished putting in his new tube. He fit the tire back on and quickly pumped it up. Dad put away his tools and glanced into the forest just off the road. “Hey, bear,” he called again, “I have to go now!” He hurriedly got back on his bike and resumed his climb. “Boy, that’s a relief,” he said to himself.
The two wolves stood on top of a ridge. They gazed at tongues of red flames licking the sky above the forest.
An unusual whock, whock, whock sound came from above. The wolves looked up and saw an object fly overhead toward the nearby inferno.
The helicopter opened up from the bottom. Water poured out, just missing the two animals as they scampered away.
Dad pressed on, pedaling past landmarks he was now familiar with. First there was St. Mary Falls parking area, then the Gunsight Pass trailhead, and now, Siyeh Bend. As Dad got higher up, it became windy. He worked hard as he fought the elevation gain and the gusty winds. Just stay in rhythm, don’t push too hard, he reminded himself. Dad lifted one of his arms to wipe the sweat that trickled down his forehead and into his eyes.
As Dad pushed past the Siyeh parking area, he gazed ahead. The morning sunlight was lighting up the park’s high peaks. Dad recognized Clements Mountain, its snowfield that was once a glacier illuminated by the bright light. “I’m getting there!” he encouraged himself out loud. Then Dad glanced in the tiny mirror attached to his helmet. He noticed even more smoke billowing into the sky.
• • •
“It’s 8 AM,” James announced. “Dad should be reaching the top soon.”
Morgan, James, and Mom scrambled out of the tent.
“Well, let’s start getting everything ready, then,” Mom said.
Morgan began preparing pancakes, eggs, and bacon. She set up a cake with candles. James unrolled the banner they had stashed away under their suitcases and camping supplies.
Soon their campsite was all ready for Dad’s birthday.
After they were all set, Morgan turned the stove down and covered the food with foil. Mom came over and put her arm around Morgan. James joined them. The three of them surveyed their decorations. “You know, forty is a big milestone!” Mom said. “Dad will be thrilled.”
• • •
Dad climbed on. The road was cut into a rocky cliff; on his right the cliff towered above him, on his left it plunged below. Dad crossed a steel bridge and rode next to a pounding waterfall. He pedaled quickly through a dark tunnel. Logan Pass Visitor Center was just up the road.
Dad gained momentum and pedaled with renewed energy. Am I getting stronger, he wondered, or is the road just leveling out?
Dad noticed a bighorn sheep walking on a cement barrier next to the road. He slowly rode by, trying to avoid eye contact with the noble but ominous-looking animal. You don’t see that on too many bike rides, he thought to himself.
Then Dad rounded a bend. Two more bighorns stood in the middle of the road. He looked at them, gauging if he could ride past quickly while pedaling uphill.
Dad decided he wasn’t fast enough to get by safely. He stopped and waited. A car on the other side of the sheep was also waiting. They noticed Dad. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, What else am I supposed to do?
The bighorns looked at the car, then at Dad. They took a few panicked, erratic ste
ps in random directions. Dad prepared himself to turn the bike around and flee. All of a sudden, without warning, the bighorns ran off the road and scampered up a hill.
Dad took a deep breath and rode on, watching the bighorns above him as he pedaled past.
Finally, he made it to the final pitch, sprinting up the last stretch to the visitor center parking lot. Dad pulled in just as a ranger was putting up a barricade on the road.
Logan Pass Visitor Center’s parking lot was mostly empty. Near the bottom end were several ranger cars and fire trucks. Some of the firefighters were talking with each other. One was looking through binoculars to the east. Another spoke into a hand radio.
Dad looked at the newly set up roadblock. A car pulled up to it from the west. The ranger stepped over to the driver as she rolled down her window. “The road is closed,” the ranger announced. “The fire has flared up and is running close to the highway. For now, everything east of here is shut down.”
The driver backed up and turned around. Meanwhile Dad walked over to the ranger. “My family’s down there,” he informed him. “At Rising Sun.”
“Not for long,” the man replied.
• • •
A ranger drove around the campground. She stopped at the Parkers’ site and quickly jogged over to Morgan, James, and Mom.
“Hi, folks,” she greeted the family while looking at the decorations. “I’m sorry to break up the party, but we’re closing the whole area east of Logan Pass. The fires are raging out of control and moving this way.”
Mom looked at the ranger in shock. “Now?”
“Now!”
“But my husband’s riding his bike on Going-to-the-Sun Road!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. If he’s up at the pass, he’ll have to go west. If he’s somewhere in between, the rangers sweeping the road will pick him up.
“I’ll radio the situation in,” she reassured Mom. The ranger hurried back to her car. Then she drove to the next campsite.
14
