Guided Backpacking in Glacier NP

Scenery: Bring lots of film. I've visited many parts of the U.S. and Canada, but this place blew me away. Hiking the park offers even more photo ops than just driving through it, so be prepared. A panoramic disposable camera or two wouldn't be wasted, either.

Highlights:Driving Going-to-the-Sun Road, hiking over Redgap Pass in a snowstorm, hot shower and huckleberry pie after 6 days on the trail.

Quick Tips:

Bring clothes for all seasons. We went in mid-July and had 2 days of 85 degree summer, one day of late fall (warm day, 40 degree night), one day of winter (snow and biting wind/rain), and one day of spring (warm and rainy). For more suggestions, see entry on what gear to pack.

Drive Going-to-the-Sun Road. Built by corps of engineers to show off the highlights of the park: hair-raising dropoffs, great scenery.

If you're short on time and can't backpack, try some of the shorter day hikes starting from Logan's Pass and other points along Going-to-the-Sun Road. Rangers at entrance and at Logan Pass Visitor Center will have info on which trails are safe and accessible.

Best Way To Get Around:

Red "jammer" buses with removable tops shuttle visitors throughout the park. There are size limitations on vehicles going over Logan Pass: nothing over 21 feet in length or 8 feet in width. Trailers can be parked at the entrances to the park. If you're driving a large RV, I suggest you park it and either rent a car or get a seat on one of the jammer buses.

Glacier Wilderness Guides/Montana Raft Company has been designated by the National Park Service as the official backpacking guides for Glacier National Park. Check out their web site at Glacier Guides for more info.

These guys are real pros. I can't say enough good things about our guide, Russ Schneider. Russ has written and co-written guidebooks for Falcon guides. Not only was he knowledgeable about the park, he handled an extremely trying situation with tact and resourcefulness. He also happens to be a darn good trail cook. In case you are wondering whether to hire GWG or go it alone, here are some of the pros and cons I experienced:

Pros:
1. Safety. If I hadn't gone with a group, I probably would not have felt safe going at all. At first, I had planned to go alone, but many backcountry backpacking resources advise strongly against this. Even after persuading my sister to go with me, I still felt we might be too inexperienced to go it alone, particularly in the backcountry areas of the park. Also, two women together aren't much safer than one woman alone, when it comes to human predators.
2. Experience. Our guide brought us over Redgap Pass in a snowstorm. He was also able to tell us where the bears usually hang out and point out signs of their presence. He knew when we were getting hypothermic and what to do about it.
3. Food. They plan the meals. They cook. (They'll even clean the dishes, although we helped most of the time).
4. Common gear gets divided among the group, so no one ends up carrying all the cooking gear and food.

Cons:
1. The group from hell. By the second day, it became obvious that the six hikers in our group had very different goals for this trip. We broke out into three groups: the sprinters, whose only goal seemed to be to get to the next campground as quickly as possible; the honeymooners, who wanted to be alone together; and the amblers, who were interested in taking as many photos as possible and learning about the flora and fauna of the park. Unfortunately, the sprinters seemed either unwilling or unable to compromise with the amblers. Every time I paused to take a photo, there were vociferous complaints--not very pleasant. This very nearly ruined the trip for me.
2. Noise. The sprinters liked to sing. Not only did we not see any bears, we barely saw any wildlife at all. We did hear a lot of rustling in the undergrowth, however, as the sprinters' less-than-melodic warbling scared everything out of our way.
3. Trail choice. You can arrange for a custom guided trip, but otherwise you go where the guides have planned for you to go.

Day 1:Met my group at the Glacier Wilderness Guides/Montana Raft Company satellite office, a few minutes from my motel. The National Park Service has designated GWG as the exclusive backpacking guide service in Glacier. There were six hikers in our group plus our trusty guide, Russ. We all filed inside for a short orientation session, including a video about avoiding and surviving animal attacks. (Chiefly, we were curious about bears.) Russ went over the proposed route with us and the main features to expect.

Moving back out to the building where we'd left our gear, the staff ran us through an equipment list to make sure we had everything we'd need. The packs were weighed, and suggestions were made as to what to leave behind. After removing some bulkier fleece items, my pack came in at a little over 40 pounds, not including my camera. This seemed a bit heavy to me, but after testing out the pack on my back, I decided I could handle it. Generally, your backpack should weigh between 1/4 and 1/3 of your body weight. Russ then shared out the food and other group gear among us, adding another 4 or 5 pounds. The pack plus the camera now came pretty close to 1/2 my body weight, and at this point alarms should have begun sounding in my head.

But, blissfully ignorant, I heaved my pack into the back of the van, and we were on our way to the trailhead at Chief Mountain Customs, where we grabbed our packs and headed for the backcountry.

From Chief Mtn, we followed the Belly River trail for about 6 miles, descending steeply to the Belly River Valley through forest for a couple miles before we reached the valley floor and turned southwest. From there, we followed the Belly River, gently climbing through grassy meadows in view of Bear and Sentinel Mountains to the west and Chief Mountain to the east. At mile 6, we reached the Belly River Ranger Station where we turned west on to the Stoney Indian Pass Trail. We crossed Belly River on a suspension bridge and climbed back into the forest, where we saw plenty of spiky white beargrass. At about mile 8, we reached the foot of Cosley Lake, then followed the north shore until we passed the lake and crossed Whitecrow Creek. Two miles past Whitecrow Creek, we passed the campground at the foot of Glenns Lake. Finally, after following the shore of the lake for another 2 miles, we stopped at the upper Glenns campground for the night.

Although the grades were fairly moderate, this is a long hike for one day. I was pretty glad to reach camp.

Day 2: We spent the second day around camp and doing some hiking around Glenns Lake. At the head of Glenns Lake is the turnoff for Mokowanis Lake. The trail is only about a mile long, and White Quiver Falls and Mokowanis Lake are worth seeing.

Day 3

During the morning, we retraced our path about 4 miles: from Upper Glenns campground back to Cosley Lake campground. We set up camp and then agreed to hike up to Bear Mountain Point. We stopped near a waterfall on a steep talus slope for lunch. Some of our group made the rest of the climb up to Bear Mountain Point while the rest of us cooled our heels at the falls and saw elk climb right up the steep side of the hill, making it look easy.

Day 4

During the morning, we took the Belly-Mokowanis cutoff trail which runs from the foot of Cosley Lake to a point on the Belly River trail just below Dawn Mist Falls. This involves wading across the outlet of Cosley Lake by holding on to a cable which is strung across the creek. Took off my boots and socks, tied them around my neck, and wore my sneakers and rain pants. The water reached my hips, and the current was pretty strong. We went across at intervals and kept a strong hold on the cable. Stopped on the other side to remove the rain gear and put the boots and socks back on. The sneakers didn't dry out until two days later, after sitting for an hour by the hotel radiator. Next time, I'm wearing my Tevas.

Stopped at Dawn Mist Falls to filter water and admire the scenery. Got out my new digital camera for some photos. Left camera on my pack while climbing rocks and fellow hiker knocked it in the water. "It'll be okay because it's high tech," she says, as I empty water out of the battery compartment and eye the fogged over LED--a sure sign there's water inside the case. Yeah, high tech circuitry just loves water... Managed to resist strangling her (barely) or her equally obnoxious friend. Digital camera out of commission for remainder of trip, but it did eventually dry out, and I'm amazed to report is now working fine.

From Dawn Mist Falls, it's a mile to the campground at Elizabeth Lake. The afternoon was rainy and that night it was cold--about 35 or 40 F degrees, I'd guess--but that didn't deter the mosquitos. The last half mile to the lake, they were so thick they formed clouds around us. Luckily, our guide, Russ, handed out mosquito nets to wear around our faces. Otherwise, we would have been toast. Bring bug stuff, but get one of those nets, too. You'll need both.

Elizabeth Lake is gorgeous, worth all the mosquito bites. It's a deep aquamarine blue, I think from the glacial limestone suspended in the water. We had the entire campground to ourselves.

I really overpacked for this trip, but maybe you can learn from my mistakes! As with any backpacking trip, the key is to pack light but don't leave out essential gear. Besides the obvious tent, sleeping bag, sleeping mat, backpack and boots, here are some things I'm glad I had, or wished I'd had for a 6-day trip:

Food: Glacier Wilderness Guides provided all meals on the hike, including trail mix or snacks to maintain energy while hiking. The meals cooked by our guide were excellent and plentiful.

Water: There are numerous natural water supplies in Glacier, but you must either boil or filter all water before drinking it or cooking with it, because of the danger of giardia. Giardia is a micro-organism in the feces of mammals which runs off into the water supply and causes severe diahrrea and dehydration in humans. Iodine has not been shown to kill giardia. You need a water filtration system which is approved for giardia. Our guide had a filter, but it's not a bad idea to bring one anyway. We were glad to have two of them with us. Bring at least one canteen or water bottle. At the higher elevations, you get dehydrated more quickly.

Clothing: Bring lightweight clothing that can be layered. Avoid cotton close to your skin. You may have to wade across rivers, so bring waterproof sandals. Rain and snow are common in the higher altitudes. In July, we had 85 degree weather, some rain, and one snowstorm over Redgap Pass, so bring both shortsleeves and fleece. Waterproof rain poncho and rain pants are also a good idea. Of course, broken in waterproof hiking boots and good hiking socks. (Stay away from cotton. I like to wear thin acrylic liner socks and thick outer socks of either wool or acrylic. This helps to avoid chafing and blisters, because the inner socks move better with your feet and wisk the moisture away as well.) Warm hat, sunhat, gloves.

Miscellaneous: Sunglasses, sunscreen, bug repellant, mosquito net to wear over face and neck. (The DEET in the bug repellant will eat through some plastics, so be careful where you apply it, or get some without it. It ate through the battery cover on my Swatch, for example.) Baby wipes (rather than TP), low-impact environmentally safe toiletries (available in most camping stores), plenty of anti-bacterial hand wash (also available in camping stores) for when water is not handy. Resealable plastic bags for carrying out your trash. Topo map and small notebook to record details of the trip. Camera and plenty of film. Basic first aid kit: bandaids, moleskin, antibacterial gel, aspirin, any medication you take regularly.

Poia Lake-Redgap Pass Trail, from Elizabeth Lake to Poia Lake, 10.2 mi.
from Poia Lake to Apikuni Flat trailhead on Glacier Rte. 3, 6.4 mi.

Day 5

This was the most strenuous hike we took during the whole trip, reaching the highest altitude. The trail is steep from the very start; the first 2 miles are some of the steepest of the entire trail. You gain over 3,000 feet in elevation in the 4 miles from Elizabeth Lake to Redgap Pass. Much of this is up talus slopes with increasingly narrow switchbacks as you approach the pass.

Warning: Male readers can just skip this paragraph. For the women, let me just say two words: menstrual cramps. You can bet I popped two ibuprofen, but I was really dragging ass this morning. The cold the night before had made it difficult to sleep, I just couldn't face anything but tea for breakfast, and that morning the weight of the pack just seemed overwhelming.

I'd been looking forward to this trail the entire trip, so it was particularly frustrating that I wasn't fit enough to enjoy it. Two miles through beautiful pine forests, the trail climbing almost continuously (like stairs without the steps), and I found myself stopping to catch my breath at smaller and smaller intervals. Not good.

Our guide must have agreed. As we were coming up to the treeline, he stopped and waited for us to gather round. By this time, the rain had turned to snow, and the wind was picking up. He explained that hypothermia was a real threat, and we needed to get over the pass and back into the cover of the treeline as quickly as possible. Problem was, two of us were having trouble keeping up, and some of our group hadn't brought gloves, hats, or warm coats. We were going to have to pull together as a group if we were going to get through this safely.

First, we all contributed our dirty hiking socks, and those without cold weather gear wore some as mittens and tied the rest together to wrap around their heads. (You know it was cold, because they seemed overjoyed to wear those horrible, smelly socks!) They tied garbage bags together as ponchos to keep out the wind and rain.

Next, the two of us who were lagging would have to redistribute some of the weight to the other members of the group. Given the already strained group dynamics, this was not something I wanted to do. But, unhappy as I was with other people paying for my stupidity by having to schlep my stuff, I was eventually persuaded that there was serious danger in continuing as we were. There was no use compounding my stupidity by endangering everyone else, and I agreed to lighten my pack. However, in a final act of supreme stupidity, I gave my camera--my single heaviest piece of gear--to a fellow hiker. We agreed I could just ask for it whenever I wanted to take a picture. Needless to say, I didn't feel very comfortable asking him to stop in the freezing wind and snow to unload his pack, so I have not one photo from this entire day.

The one good thing about feeling stupid, guilty, and embarassed in front of people I really disliked is that it made me angry. I mean, it really pissed me off, and anger can be a good source of energy. Our guide told me to take the lead, so I could go at a pace that was comfortable for me. I didn't realize how fast I was going, but I felt I had something to prove, and was blinded by anger. (And it's amazing what taking off 15 pounds will do for you.) After an hour or so, I heard someone approaching quickly from behind--I'd gotten so far ahead, they'd sent Russ to tell me to slow down!

Russ's arrival snapped me out of my funk, and I quickly realized that expending all that energy on an empty stomach was probably not too smart. I was starting to get hypothermic, shivering and feeling like I needed to simultaneously vomit and go to the bathroom. Well, the last thing I wanted to do was eat anything, but we paused while I got out my water bottle and Russ pulled out the trail mix. Feeling much improved, I agreed to let Russ lead at a saner pace and--much too soon for me--the group caught up to us once again.

Soon after that, we lost the trail in the deep snow among the pine trees. Some of us stayed to mark the trail, while others spread out to see if they could pick up the trail ahead. They were careful to keep within sight and sound of the rest of us, and within a few minutes we heard someone call out that they'd found the trail. We eased our way forward through the drifts and were able to continue safely.

It was once we got into the open on the talus slopes above the treeline that the going really got tough. The loose scree and rocks and the endless steep, narrow switchbacks were driving me crazy. But just when I wanted to quit, the pass came into sight and I swore I was going to get there if it killed me. I had volunteered to take the lead again because Russ had gone back to retrieve one of our group--the other woman who'd had trouble keeping up that morning. Unfortunately, he'd been unable to persuade her to lighten her pack as I had. By this time, she'd fallen far behind, and we were very concerned about her safety. However, with the wind chill, standing around waiting for her to catch up was not a good idea either. After some discussion, we agreed that Russ would go back down the trail while we continued just over the top of the pass, found shelter and waited for Russ and the other hiker to catch up.

The wind and snow made the footing through the pass treacherous, but I couldn't resist pausing to mark the summit with a yell of triumph and a little fist pump. Yeah, I made it. And I got here ahead of you guys, so take that! I'm sure they thought I was bonkers, but making it over that pass was the highlight of the trip for me. Everything else was, literally, down hill after that.

Unfortunately, we couldn't find any shelter on the other side of the pass. There are big boulders along the trail, but not big enough. There was nowhere to go but down toward the shelter of the treeline, and hope that Russ and our fellow hiker would catch up soon. Fortunately, we soon heard them yelling behind us. I don't know how he persuaded her, but Russ had finally insisted on carrying both his pack and the woman's. Not only did he make it over the pass with all that weight, he did it fast enough to catch up with us before we were halfway to the trees.

Once we got below the treeline, we stopped at the first stream to filter enough water for everyone to fill their bottles. Then Russ unpacked the stove and food and made sure everyone had something hot to drink and plenty of trail mix and energy bars to eat. As I looked around, I realized everyone looked completely trashed. I figured I'd better take my gear back, and they were only too happy to get rid of it! By the time we reached Poia Lake campground, I was very tired, but still wired from the experience. That was a really, really good day.

Day 6

Our final day was somewhat anticlimactic. We took our time in camp in the morning, then hiked the final 6.4 miles through some beautiful grasslands to the trailhead on the Apikuni Flat near Glacier Rte. 3. A GWG staffer picked us up in a van and took us to a nearby picnic ground where we had a feast to celebrate the end of the trip. After stopping at the satellite office to pick up the rest of our gear, we did a little shopping for souvenirs, then back to our hotels to get up close and personal with some hot, hot water!