Backpacking Glacier National Park

As we packed up our mid-sized caravan and July 20th approached, the anticipation reached fever pitch. We were headed into the unknown, a place we had only seen on websites and maps, but not with our own eyes. The sense of adventure hanging in the air was palpable, everyone was stoked. We had captured the idea of taking a backpacking trip earlier in the year and had kicked around many places, but one stood out above the rest: Glacier National Park. Encompassing over 1 million acres of land and known throughout the world as a backpacking mecca, we settled on a week in late July to conquer the Northwestern corner of the park. Our destination was Bowman Lake, believed to be named after Fred Bowman, a trapper in the late 19th century who started trapping in the area. This remote corner of the park is known for its low traffic and amazing views. With our destination plugged into our phone GPS, we set off on the trip of a lifetime.

Not the kind of thing you like to wake up to at 4am

As Murphy’s law states, “whatever can go wrong, will go wrong”. Just as I was settling for my turn to sleep on the road, we were pulling over in a desolate part of northern Montana. One of John’s brand new AT tires had blown out at 4 am. Curses were flying, rattled by this sudden turn of events and with little option than to throw the ruined tire into the truck bed and redistribute our gear between our two cars, we carried on. This theme of persistence, even in the face of adversity, would become the common thread that weaved throughout our trip into the wild.

John admiring the last bit of alpenglow before the sun sets on Bowman Lake

Straight-paved highway roads turned into winding dirt and gravel as we drew closer to our destination. Upon leaving the small town of Polebridge, Montana, a bar and historic trading post located just outside of the park on the western side, we were greeted with another dirt road, meandering through a pristine wilderness that only seemed to build the anticipation we had been feeling on the 24 hours it took us to get there. After parking our cars and setting up camp, we headed down to Bowman Lake to swim and stretch our legs. The view from the campground was absolutely stunning and made the stressful white-knuckled drive out there worth it. We were surrounded by immense peaks and ridges that ran into the crystal-clear blue water. Immediately, we knew this was the place.

Camp host Dave, we would still be stuck in Glacier if it wasn’t for him!

Heading back to camp John had noticed that his other back tire, the one that hadn’t blown out, was flat. Fortunately, Dave, the Bowman Lake park ranger, had a slime kit and we were able to plug the tire, a fix which later withstood the test of our 1000+ mile journey home.

Turning in for the night, visions danced in my head of the hike we would be undertaking in the morning, a distinct feeling of hope and apprehension washed over me. What if I didn’t bring the right gear? Would both of my knees hold up after having reconstructive surgery with a 30lb pack for the 6-mile hike to the campground? I knew I had picked a great pair of hiking boots, but sometimes nature gets the best of you. I tucked into my sleeping bag and sleep mercifully washed over me, pushing these worries to the back of my mind.

The anticipation from the night before had grown into full-blown mania, with everyone waking up and scrambling to cook breakfast. After enjoying our dehydrated breakfast skillets and biscuits with gravy, we packed our bags with any last minute gear we’d need for the trail and headed out for our 6-mile hike to Akokala lake. Remember to respect the land and the creatures in it by reducing your camping footprint. Immediately we were welcomed by an’ elevation gain of 2,100 feet over 3 miles which proved somewhat of a challenge, but we persisted.

An unorthodox method of crossing a creek

After reaching the halfway point in the trail, we came upon Akokala creek. This steadily-flowing babbling brook had taken out the footbridge that would have provided safe and easy passage to the other side and our campsite beyond. Fortunately for us, a rather large tree had been felled to create a natural bridge where we could safely (and dryly) cross, making for a unique obstacle and an excellent spot to filter water and enjoy a trail snack.

The sights at Akokala Lake

Two hours, 3-miles, and 44 downed trees, later we came upon our campsite. Nestled in a basin of massive peaks and ridges, and laying next to the start of Akokala creek, it consisted of three tent pads set up in a tiered fashion with the lowest overlooking the lake. Naturally, we threw off our packs with vigor and headed into the lake—which we quickly discovered was extremely cold.

44 down trees on the way in, 44 trees to climb over on the way out

A hearty breakfast of dehydrated eggs and bacon only served to energize and motivate us for our most grueling leg of the trip. We would be taking the 6-miles we had hiked back to Bowman Lake and then another 3-miles up the Quartz Ridge to Lower Quartz Lake. We quickly broke camp, packed our bags, and headed down the trail, eager to get to our next campsite.

John and I atop of Quartz Ridge

The first 6-miles went by extremely quickly and consisted of retracing our steps back down the trail to Bowman Lake, where we enjoyed a snack and the luxury of a cold beer before we made our ascent over the ridge. Two miles of sheer switchbacks had us all aching and hoping that around each corner we would see some sort of leveling out relief. This ascent was then marked with an equally brutal descent of a 1,000 feet in one mile with the ground being extremely loose and rocky. Needless to say, we were incredibly relieved to see the campsite at Lower Quartz.

Major props to the rangers that built this long foot bridge

Davis fishing Lower Quartz Creek

After making camp and a swim in the lake, we boiled some water in our Jetboils, made our dehydrated meals and enjoyed a calm night around a fire reminiscing on the hike we had just done. The worst of the Quartz loop was behind us. With hats and shades to protect us from the sun, hiking boots to keep us sure-footed, and rain coats and hiking clothing to protect us from the elements, we stayed comfortable.

John and Drew enjoying one last swim in Lower Quartz Lake

The hike was a welcomed change of pace as we only needed to go three miles to our next campsite along the shores of Lower Quartz and Middle Quartz Lakes. We were hiking through a forest of towering pines and along two beautiful lakes. On this hike, we ran into a Minnesota transplant doing a day hike through the loop that was puzzled by why we had chosen to do the Quartz loop as it was lightly tracked and relatively unknown to glaciers other more popular destinations. We explained that this was the reason why we had chosen this section of the park as we wouldn’t have to deal with crowds. After exchanging some pleasantries, we got back on the trail.

“It’s like an underwater forest!”

Rounding some pines at the Quartz lake campsite, we were greeted by the best view we had seen on our trek so far. Towering peaks and ridges descending into a massive carved glacial lake where the water was so clear you could see hundreds of feet below you. The icy blue clear glacial water was punctuated by a mosaic of different colored stones with driftwood that had fallen as the water eroded the landscape creating a natural Mondrian-esque painting underneath the water.

Drew and I taking in the glow of the alps as the wind picked up

After making camp along the shore of Quartz Lake and a dinner of various dehydrated takes on mac and cheese, we settled in our chairs to watch the alpenglow on the peaks surrounding the lake. This vision was interrupted by the wind suddenly picking up and my tent being picked up and flung into the trees surrounding the campsite. The gusts were 50 mph with a sustained wind of at least 30 mph. I had made the mistake of leaving my rainfly behind in the car and spent the rest of the night fearful that it may rain. Needless to say, it was a sleepless night.

Gear Shop: Arc’teryx, Patagonia

Everyone was hoping not to run into a bear in the dark

The morning of the 25th came in like a freight train, an hour before we had to wake up and make the hike back to Bowman Lake up and over the Cerulean Ridge. With the batteries of our headlamps checked and our bags packed, we began the 6-mile journey up and over the cerulean ridge. It turned out to be a beautiful hike as the gentle incline took our group higher and higher to get views of the loop we had just done. You could see all of the quartz chain of lakes laid out before us in a beautiful linear fashion.

The reason for our early hike out was due to the fact that we had to be at the ranger station when it opened to secure a campsite for the next night. Half of all the campsites in Glacier are reserved for walk-ups on a first come first serve basis. So our thinking was, get to the ranger station as soon as possible otherwise we may not have a place to stay for tonight. This was a huge motivator.

Breaking only for a breakfast of an energy bar and water, we looked to the East and were greeted with a view of the planet Mars hanging in the sky like one lone red Christmas light. Needless to say, it was pretty cool to see.

Sunrise on Bowman Lake

When we got to Bowman Lake, the sun had just begun to rise in the east cresting behind the monumental peaks at the head of the lake. It was a welcomed sight.

After getting back to our cars, we headed down the underdeveloped road back to Polebridge where we secured a campsite and enjoyed some pastries at the historic Polebridge Mercantile and Bakery. The rest of the day was spent traversing the park by car and enjoying a day of rest.

After a trip like this, your gear can be a bit out of shape and needs to be taken care of. Follow the rules found in this blog post to make sure your things stay nice for as long as possible.

Even with the fallen trees, blown out tires, and steep climbs, Glacier National Park proved to be a trip of a lifetime, and an experience that I wouldn’t share with anyone else than this group of goons.

 

Peter L.