A Walk in the Park: First Week on the CDT in Glacier

Hi from Montana!

As of June 23rd, I have officially begun my thru-hike of the Continental Divide Trail. If you’ve read some of my pre-trail blogs you’ll know I’m hiking with my husband, The Show. What I haven’t mentioned yet is that we’re hiking as a tramily of three. Our friend we met on the PCT, Free Samples, is also joining us on the hike. That’s our core cast of characters so far that you’ll hear about on the blog this season.

Bear with me as I get into the groove of blogging while hiking. It’s new for me, and it can be a challenge to fit into the schedule between making miles, camp chores, town errands, and socializing. I know I’m not going to be a daily blogger. I’ll admit I usually skip over the type of content that reads like a personal diary, of every mundane detail and everything someone ate in a day. And I don’t particularly like to write that sort of thing either. I just find it pretty boring, to be honest. (By this I mean absolutely no offense to those who do like to read/write these kinds of blogs. Honestly, I’m dumbfounded and a little jealous those bloggers find themselves with the time and energy to write that much!)

I’m not sure how often I’ll post here, but when I do, I’m going to stick to the highlights (and lowlights), because that’s the takeaways I’d want to hear about if I were reading it. So without further preface, here are the interesting things that have happened so far.

The Journey to the Journey

One of the least logistically complicated ways to travel to Glacier National Park is via train. Amtrak’s “Empire Builder” routinely traverses between Seattle and Chicago. In between those two end points, the route includes stops right in West and East Glacier. I love trains, I think they’re an excellent way to see miles and miles of a landscape while en route to a destination. You don’t get to see a whole lot on a plane aside from during take-off and landing, provided you selected a window seat.

I figured the train would be a fun way to see some more of the park, with the added bonus of getting dropped off about a mile from the hostel we were planning to stay at before starting the hike. We flew from Boston to Seattle and hopped on the train there because it was cheaper/shorter going eastbound. Since it was a long (16.5 hours) overnight timeframe, we decided to splurge for a “roomette” in one of the sleeper cars. It was fairly small, but we had two seats facing each other that converted into bunk beds, with a sliding door and curtains for privacy.

We had two complimentary meals in the dining car (dinner and breakfast). The train even had a shower! I used it not because I really needed to, but because when else am I going to get to shower while on a train? It’s a wild notion to be showering while moving, with the surrounding walls bumping and vibrating around you.

It was worth the extra cash to be able to fully lie down in a bed and get some sleep as the train carried us through the night. I enjoyed the gentle sway and vibrations, and the idea that I drifted to sleep as the sun set in Washington, knowing when I woke up I’d be in Montana.

This wasn’t exactly true because around two in the morning the lights in our roomette randomly turned on and startled me awake. I looked out the window and saw we were stopped, and an Amtrak sign read “Spokane.” We were still in Washington. It took me a bit to fall back asleep but I eventually did, and the next thing I knew we were in Montana, with wildfire smoke haze clouding the orange sunrise over rolling hills.

The only other thing I’ll mention about the train was that it took us awhile to board. This was due to being stuck behind an overweight elderly woman who could barely get herself up the ten or so steps to the second floor of the sleeper car. This stands out in my memory for its irony: this woman could barely handle a small staircase while we were on our way to hike nearly 3,000 miles.

The Storm before the Calm

The lead-up to our hike start date felt eerily familiar. When we arrived at Looking Glass Basecamp, colloquially and affectionately known among thru-hikers as simply “Luna’s” for the lovely woman who runs the place, it was abuzz with talk of an incoming snow storm. Here we were, about to spend another four nights at a hostel, waiting to thru hike, just as we had in Gorham during our White Mountains Direttissima attempt in May. This time, however, the timing of the bad weather worked in our favor because our permit for the park wasn’t until after the storm was scheduled to blow through.

Glacier backcountry camping permits are somewhat hard to come by. I jumped on the opportunity to get one in advance, logging on the minute they became available to the general public on May 1st. The weekend days were snatched up almost instantaneously, yet I was able to get four out of the six days of our intended itinerary on a Monday-Thursday. I emailed the park and they confirmed we’d be able to get the last two days added to our existing permit if we stopped into a ranger station once we got there.

We had originally wanted to start on June 21st, the summer solstice, but since that was a booked up Saturday, our start date got pushed to the 23rd. Little did we know, the 21st and 22nd turned out to be the worst two days of the storm. Although it got a little boring waiting around the hostel for a few days, we were thankful not to have felt any pressure to go out into those cold and wet conditions due to our permit date. Had we not had a permit already, it’s possible we would have been itching to get out there and done so against our better judgement seeing as the storm wasn’t so bad-seeming (a cold but light rain most of the time). Our only hint toward trail conditions was the fresh covering of snow we could see on the faraway peaks in view from the town.

We witnessed many eager (leaning towards impatient) hikers either starting during the storm or doing some form of slack packing through the park so they could return to the hostel at night to warm up and dry off. I’m glad some proactive planning and a stroke of good luck really came through for us.

The Permit Mishap

We figured since we had so much time to kill before starting we might as well get the last two days of our permit sorted out sooner rather than later. Typically for walk-up permits you can only go the day of or day before your start date to schedule and pick up a hard copy of your permit. We called a generic help number for Glacier and the person on the other line seemed to think since we had an existing permit we could go get it at any time.

So we paid $50 each for a round trip shuttle over to the Two Medicine Ranger Station, which was about a 20 minute drive from where we were currently. Unfortunately, as soon as we got there we were told by the ranger on duty that we were too early, that making amendments to an existing permit also had to be done day-of or day-before. We were pretty bummed to be out $100 and still without a sorted permit. The kind shuttle driver was sympathetic to our cause and signed a note on our shuttle tickets that we could get a ride on another day, free of charge.

When we returned a couple days later in our second attempt to get the permit, we had no issues and it was overall a smooth process. We were able to add two more nights at our first choices of campsites and add another hiker who needed a permit, Flash, who we met at the hostel (each permit can accommodate four hikers and they greatly encourage grouping up when possible).

From our experience, I’d definitely recommend going the advance online permit route. It seemed like most thru hikers rolled the dice with walk-ups, but ended up with less than ideal itineraries. We’ve passed a bunch of should-be-SOBOs hiking the park northbound or forced to do long days. Maybe it doesn’t matter to others, but it’s important to me that I start at the terminus. It would just feel wrong to start somewhere random and anticlimactically tag the border a week in. It was significantly less stressful and more efficient to arrive with most of a permit itinerary already in place.

I also wouldn’t recommend trying to sneak through Glacier without a permit. We had our permits checked twice in the first two days. For comparison, we had ours checked three times on the PCT, but that was over the 6.5 months we were out there. The rangers were certainly out and about, and doing their jobs.

The Northern Terminus

After four nights at the hostel, to say we were excited and antsy to get started is an understatement. We got a lift to our northern terminus from Backpacker’s Ferry, a local shuttle company. I say “our” terminus because, fun fact, there are actually two recognized northern terminuses for the CDT: Waterton Lake and Chief Mountain. Most NOBOs finish at Waterton because its more scenic and the high route that precedes is clear of the past winter’s snowpack by the time they get there in late summer/early fall. Most SOBOs start at Chief because it’s logistically easier (you need to actually enter Canada to get to Waterton and therefore must bring your passport) and it’s a lower route with less snowpack allowing you to start as early as possible.

Our shuttle driver was a native man of the Blackfeet tribe local to the area. He told us his name in his language translates to “Bad Bear.” His advice for us was to “hike with your head up.” This was meant mostly in the context of remaining aware of your surroundings, especially due to the presence of bears. I appreciated the dual and triple meanings the phrase evokes: to look around and take in the beautiful landscape, and to stay positive.

The funny thing about the Chief Mountain terminus is that it’s an actual highway border crossing that cars travel through. It does have an official monolith like any other terminus, but it’s not tucked away miles in the woods like Waterton or the northern terminuses of the PCT or the Long Trail are. But you can still crop the paved road out of your start photo to make it look like you’re surrounded by trees, mountains, and the clear-cut border line.

When we got our photos at the border, there was a patrol station directly across from the terminus monolith. The Show got a solo picture to represent his trail name by turning around and mooning the camera. Immediately after the moment was captured and all hiker witnesses were cackling, a border patrol officer appeared out of the station and said “NOT funny you guys.” She wasn’t being sarcastic and did not sound amused. We quickly finished our photoshoot and scurried away to start the trail.

The Highs

Passes

One of the main highlights of the CDT route through the park were the mountain passes. Passes are typically the lowest point on a ridgeline between two peaks. You’re essentially traversing high elevations between mountains, rather than climbing up to the actual summits. In ranges such as those in Glacier, peak bagging isn’t always attainable due to the sheer and easily crumbling rock faces. I personally love this life of passes instead of peaks. You get to hike a well-graded trail high up in the mountains with excellent views of their tops but don’t have to do the extra elevation or sketchy scrambles. Below are some of my favorite photos of the passes we climbed.

Colorful Rocks

One of the more famous landmarks in Glacier National Park is McDonald Lake, renowned for its rainbow array of rocks beneath its crystal clear water. It’s been on my bucket list to go there for awhile now. It’s not on the CDT but we tried to make it happen since the train we took in does strop in West Glacier where its located, but sadly it turned out not to be within reasonable walking distance from the train stop.

I’m happy to say I did get my fill of colorful Montana rocks in the park though! Colors have included rich brick red, muted turquoise, peachy pale orange, deep aqua-teal, and dusty plum purple. They look even more vibrant when wet, such as in lake bottoms, flowing creeks, and when the rainfall hits them. The following are a couple of my favorite areas of colorful rocks we passed through.

Animal Sightings

Another highlight of Glacier was the animal sightings. I’m slightly disappointed we didn’t have more encounters, but I am happy we saw something. Unfortunately we didn’t see any fluffy white mountain goats or bears of any kind (black or grizzly) which were at the top of my list of want-to-sees. They encourage hikers to call out to alert bears in particular to your presence so you don’t surprise them and initiate an attack. We spent a good portion of the first few days yelling and talking and singling loudly, so we probably scared away most of the wildlife around us. We tried to be quieter in the latter half of the stint but still no bears were seen.

We did, however, see quite a few bighorn sheep and marmots! I’ve seen marmots before on the PCT but the sheep were new and very cool to see. They were mostly unfazed by our presence and quite reluctantly moved away off the trail as we edged closer to their personal space. The mama and baby we saw snuggled already off trail didn’t bother to move at all.

The Lows

Bear Hangs

The biggest pain in the ass about Glacier is they require you to hang your food. Their rules are very different than other national parks such as Yosemite where they require you to carry a bear canister. Our prior knowledge led us to believe a bear can was an even safer bet for protecting our food from bears and bears from becoming food-conditioned. We were informed when we picked up pur permits, however, that they actually greatly preferred we hang food.

They like campers to keep all food and other smellables in the kitchen area of a campsite to contain the scents to one small area. With a bear can, you’re supposed to stash it at least 100 feet from your campsite. And they don’t want you to store your bear can in the kitchen area, because others may see your food on the ground and assume they can do the same, even if they only have a food bag. This all sounded reasonable to us, and even more enticing was the idea of not having to carry the extra couple pounds worth of bear can.

The benefit of the decreased baseweight came with the drawback of the exorbitant effort to hang our food bags. We spent a solid 45 minutes attempting to learn on the spot and execute a PCT hang. Basically, it’s a method of hanging your food bag that doesn’t involve the line being tied off diagonally to the tree or pole. This is problematic because a bear could easily slash the line with their claws causing the food bag to drop. If you’re having a hard time picturing what I just had a hard time describing, here’s an instructional video of a PCT hang for your reference.

The biggest problem we were finding with the PCT hang was that the infrastructure provided by Glacier for hanging wasn’t tall enough to get the bags high enough off the ground. The campsites either had a crossbar attached to two poles or a cable strung up between two trees (above photo) that you would throw your line over. These structures were only around 15 feet high. In that previously linked video, he mentions the line is supposed to be thrown over something 25 feet off the ground. In order for us to get the stick up high enough (and get it back down) the Show and I, being 5’6″ and 5’3″ respectively, needed to rely on Free Samples (6’4″) or stack some of the kitchen’s log round “tables” to stand on.

After that first night we gave up on the PCT hangs. The second night’s hanging structure was even shorter than the first, and there was no way we could hang our bags more than approximately eight feet off the ground – not nearly high enough. We ended up just risking it with traditional hangs that allowed us to hang the bags as high as possible snugly up at the crossbar and luckily had no bear issues.

As we prepare to head into The Bob (hiker shorthand for the Bob Marshall Wilderness) we came to the conclusion that a bear-resistant bag might be our best option going forward. We likely won’t have crossbars or cables at most of the upcoming campsites and the trees out here do not have the type of branches that can accommodate a hang. Our bear cans can hold about six days of food, but we can’t additionally fit all our other smellables (fuel canister, bug spray, toothpaste, etc).

We’ve already ordered a couple Adotec bags that should be able to accommodate all of our food and smellables. Unfortunately the next feasible place we could send them is two resupplies away because our next resupply point is at a remote wilderness ranch that has a regimented process for sending things to. So for these next two stints we’ll be working with the bear cans and the rest of the stuff that doesn’t fit will be double Smelly Proof bagged until we eat the food down enough for it to go in the can. Not ideal but we’re working with what we have. It’s not always easy to swap out gear quickly in super remote areas.

Overgrowth

On our fourth day we walked most if not all of the length of Saint Mary Lake between Reynolds Crewk Campsite and Red Eagle Lake Head Campsite. It was cruisey terrain but had miles and miles of overgrown thimbleberry bushes. In some spots they were shoulder height and completely blocking your view of the trail below. The worst part was that prior to going through this section a rain shower had passed through. This left the brush all soaking wet and turned the trail into a hiker car wash. We were completely soaked from the waist down and I ended up with a rash on my legs from all the leaves and branches rubbing against my skin. 

Campsites

My only other complaint about Glacier Park is the size of their backcountry campsite tenting areas. They’re intended to be big enough to fit two, two-person tents, aka four people per tent pad. One permit = one tent pad. This doesn’t work out super well for thru-hikers because a group of 4 single thru hikers will each have their own (usually two-person for extra roominess) tent. Couples typically share a tent, and those are often three-person tents.

In our group, The Show and I have a three-person Zpacks tent, Flash has a minimalistic one-person, and Free Samples has a very large (probably bigger than ours) two-person Durston. It was a bit of challenge to pitch all three on one tent pad at these campsites. We made it work, but it was a tight fit with overlapping guylines and minimized vestibules. It wasn’t a huge deal but we kept wondering, would it really hurt for them to extend the tent pads a tad?

Weather

Growing up in New England I’ve heard the phrase “if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes” said often. It’s true there, but it’s even more true in Glacier’s mountains. While I can’t complain much about the weather on the whole – we never got any washout days – the constant changing between sun, clouds, and showers, and sometimes all three at once, made it hard to know what clothes to put on or take off and lowered the morale a bit.

The only day we got caught in more than a passing shower was yesterday, right as we got to the bottom of a descent into Two Medicine Campground. The rain lingered for an hour or two but we found ourselves in the right place at the right time, as there is a store/café there that sells hot food and other assorted treats. We hung out there until the sun came back out enjoying the warmth and dryness of being indoors, stuffing our faces with hot chocolate, soda, soup, sandwiches, and froyo. I couldn’t have appreciated the existence of that indoor haven any more at the time.

It could have been much, much worse though. On a positive note, we didn’t experience any rain or hail on any passes. It was also much warmer during the nights than I had expected camping around 5,000 feet. I assumed we’d experience more dramatic dips in nighttime temperatures and condensation on the tent, especially camping by lakes. But we experienced neither, the nights were all mild and dry and I even slept hardly bundled up and with my quilt unzipped in blanket mode most of the time.

Final Thoughts

Another thing worth mentioning that I wasnt sure fits in either a high or a low because it’s a “both/and” is the extended daylight hours this time of year. Because we’re so far north near Canada right around the summer solstice, the sun has been rising around 5:30am and setting around 9:40pm. Those are the official times I looked up online, however from a user experience perspective, the window of first to last light feels even longer. It’s still light enough to see without a headlamp by 5am and stays that way until well after 10pm. This makes for a long hiking window to get miles in. Long summer days also energize me and boost my mood. On the downside, it’s sometimes hard to fall asleep when it’s still bright out, so I’ve been staying up a little too late some nights and waking up a little tired in the mornings.

Overall, though, I’m feeling pretty good physically. There have been some long climbs in the park but I’ve been able to do them without getting too winded or fatigued. It definitely helps to have trained on mountains with a grade twice as steep. One thing I did notice was that my hamstrings and quads have felt fine, but my calves have been sore. I can attribute this to training on rocky terrain but now hiking on smooth stock trail. It’s the difference in muscles worked on stairs versus ramps. At the end of the day, I do think the pre-hike training paid off. I’ve had much less soreness and practically zero foot pain so far. Building up the tissue tolerance in my feet beforehand was totally worth it.

I don’t intend to sound too complaintive with the lows above, only to highlight the full spectrum of experiences I’m having on trail. Overall I thought Glacier National Park was a stunning place. The mountain views were some of the most spectacular I’ve seen in my hiking career and I’d love to come back to explore more someday. I’ve also found all of the locals we’ve interacted with around here to be super friendly and helpful.

We’re taking a zero today to rest and regroup before we head back out. Next up: a couple weeks in the remote wilderness of The Bob!

 

For more thru-hiking content (and other miscellaneous life updates) follow me on Instagram @keljens