Red Gap Pass and Glacier National Park
Many Glacier
The whole climb up to Red Gap Pass, we sang and played harmonica to keep the bears away. There were a few harmless snowpatches with run-off to drink. The views of the mountains across the valley of the Belly River were spectacular. Towards the top of Red Gap were a series of many switchbacks and two steep, long snow chutes that reminded me a bit of Forester Pass from the PCT. Without a way around, I held my breath and crossed with ease and was rewarded greatly: 24 mountain goats (or possibly sheep) awaited me past the next switchbacks–lazily eating the alpine plants. As we climbed right to the pass, three proud, stately handsome looking bighorn sheep crossed 30 feet in front of us–also headed to the pass. When the biggest horned leader reached the pass, he stopped and peered out like a king examining his land.
We reached a 100 yard snowpatch and as I braced myself again, I took my first steps. About a quarter into the snowy walk, I looked up. Hesitant to pause while endless snowy steep snow was below me, I cautiously peered up. 100 feet above us, a family of the fuzziest sheep walked gracefully, without fear. They look like Star Wars characters. To see animals walk without trepidation across the snow that I so disliked humbled me and was one of the most magical moments I’ve had on any trail.
We caught up with a backpacker named Kellan and together, we navigated past a snowbank and route-finded ourselves down the slope back to the trail. Kellan was out for a week or so, but unlike us, wasn’t carrying bear spray. He had a gun on his hip. Carrying guns in National Parks was recently made legal. Kellan pointed out that “it’s the city folks waving guns around” that people get scared about in parks, not people who grew up with guns. Still, I have to wonder if a bullet wound would be enough to deter a bear, or just irritate it.
At Poia Lake, we came upon swarms of mosquitos thick–so thick I couldn’t breathe without taking some in and couldn’t see because I was squinting my eyes. We left Kellan at Poia Lake and went down towards Many Glacier. As we walked through the well vegetated trail rampant with wildflowers, singing and playing harmonica once again to deter bears a dark brown large furry creature was ahead 30 feet ahead of us. It was a moose! (One of my favorite animals). It looked at us with sorrowful eyes, and I got quite excited. We took a step forward, and the moose bolted.
When we got to Many Glacier, we found our way to the employee housing. My housemate for the past two years, Abigail, grew up in Many Glacier as the daughter of the Glacier Bear Ranger. Although Abi had headed off to the Bay Area to start a new job, she had invited us to dinner with her parents. As we entered employee housing, a ranger came up to us with the facial expression, “What are you doing here?” I explained and she directed us to the family apartment where we were welcomed to a dinner and shower and great company.
The Adams have been in the park since at least the late 60s and have such an intimate knowledge of how the glaciers have melted over time, how bear management policy has changed, and the permitting system. When I decided I wanted to hike the CDT this summer about 6 months ago, Abi and I had a heart-to-heart about what to do in grizzly country—and I had come away with “make noise.” Speaking with the Adams reassured us significantly that making noise was really the best thing we can do. I’m not sure there’s a way to thank them for the mental peace that dinner and their conversation brought to us. That being said, they warned us of the creek ford before Piegan Pass, which we would cross the next day. Apparently, another ranger had fallen in and almost drowned earlier that season.
