The day after our long journey to Grinnell Glacier, we decided to slow our pace a little while technically speeding it up.

We chose to hit the skies surrounding Glacier’s imposing peaks in a Long Ranger, a helicopter that reaches around 150 MPH. During our airborne hour, we got up-close views of several glaciers that are nearly impossible to see otherwise, along with breathtaking glimpses into the park’s backcountry nooks. Wow! I didn’t mind the heights or the sometimes abrupt course changes. Not everyone in our helicopter was equally unruffled though. One of the ladies in our group became so nervous she wouldn’t even look out the windows. Jason also objected a little to our rotorcraft’s occasional sharp movements, or at least his wimpy belly did, but he loved the adventure regardless.

Following our flight through Glacier’s jagged heavens, we hit Going-to-the-Sun-Road again but with less distance in mind than on previous occasions. We took it at an unhurried pace, stopping for viewpoints, photographs, and a couple of hikes.

The first trail we scaled led to St. Mary and Virginia Falls. This 3.6-mile trek seemed relatively laidback after our Grinnell scrambles. The two cascading features we encountered gave very different accounts of waterfalls. St. Mary’s spill was abundant and gushing while Virginia’s was slender and graceful.

We decided, after those surging diversions, that we still had enough oomph for one more walk. We chose to expend that remaining energy by hiking to a viewpoint overlooking Hidden Lake. Hidden Lake is situated almost directly on the Continental Divide. Its altitude and position make it a frequent target for drastic weather swings, as we regrettably discovered.

When we left our car to begin the 3-mile journey to Hidden Lake, the skies were a little cloudy but calm. We strolled contentedly up through alpine meadows carpeted with cheery wildflowers but, by the time we reached the overlook, our endpoint, the pleasantness of our surroundings had dissipated. Sprinkles began to fall and they quickly thickened and fattened. Within minutes, they amassed themselves into a torrential army of aggressive water.

It had showered on us every day we had been in Montana. Our rain jackets, which we had wisely thought to pack, had, up to this point, adequately helped us avoid too much of a soaking but this tempest was different. This was the kind of storm that blinds you. The sort that turns tiny mountain trickles into powerful muddy currents within minutes, and creates rivers in your undies and streams through your shoes. Even with our raincoats, we were completely sopping before we had dashed a fraction of the distance we needed to travel to get back to our car. To make matters worse, thunder and lightning started to assault us as we scurried down that raging mountain. Granted, those flashes never strayed dangerously close but, after our experience on Wheeler Peak last summer, I’m pretty suspicious of any and all rumblings. When we reached our vehicle, following what seemed like an eon of wetness, we had to change every stitch of our clothing and yet we remained uncomfortably damp for the entire hour-long ride back. Two days later, when we were packing up our suitcases to return home, our shoes were still soggy from this experience.

Although our Hidden Lake drenching was not planned, the next day getting wet was on our agenda. We decided to do a half-day whitewater rafting trip down the Middle Fork of the Flathead River. Do our amazing ideas for amusement ever cease? We floated through scenery and over rapids captured in the Meryl Streep movie The River Wild. We defeated many segments of whitewater like Bone Crusher, Tunnel, Pumphouse, Jaws, Repeater, CBT (Could Be Trouble), and Narrows. It was in one of those bumpy sections that our boat slammed up against a rock. At that point, our guide instructed everyone in the vessel to lean toward the boulder to keep from overturning but, thanks to a heavy dose of confusion, we all leaned the wrong way and our raft tipped. In slow motion, I saw Jason and the guy next to him fall into the water and then it was all over for me. Brr! Glacial runoff is…glacial! Jason popped out of the river much later than I did and seemed quite disoriented. He started swimming away from the raft and I had to coax him back to its buoyant safety. It was quite the experience but, at least, it made this paragraph pretty exciting, didn’t it?

Even with our turnover, oddly, water was still on the menu for us that evening. After rafting, we took a mellow boat tour around Lake McDonald, the biggest lake in Glacier. Lake McDonald is 10 miles long and 1.5 miles wide and, with a 472-foot depth, it’s pretty frigid. So I’m happy to report that all of our hands and feet remained securely inside the DeSmet, a 57-foot historic craft that has glided through Lake McDonald since the 1920s, and no clever rocks coaxed us into doing any hasty flips.

Our Glacier trip was fantastic. We hiked over 28 miles in total during our vacation, a decent tally. We also soared in the heavens and wallowed in the water. The continual onslaught of precipitation was a bit disappointing, as were the below-average temperatures, but at least they kept the crowds away. I’d recommend Glacier National Park to anyone that likes exploring the outdoors. If you do want to check it out, I’d suggest not waiting too long. Thanks to man’s impact, the park’s once 150 glaciers now number only 25 and by 2030 there will most likely be zero. Way to go numbskulls! So see those waning spectacles soon before they’re going, going…gone.

As much as Jason and I loved Whitefish, and we really did, we were thrilled about heading into Glacier National Park, our main focus for this trip.

We spent our first afternoon in the park climbing nearly 5 miles to Avalanche Lake, a subalpine pool fed by a number of dramatic waterfalls. It was our first taste of Glacier and we were not disappointed by the serenity of Avalanche’s reflective waters.

The next morning, we woke up early and drove more than 2 hours along Going-to-the-Sun Road, a slender two-lane highway that cuts across sharp slopes and over the Continental Divide, to arrive at the trailhead for Grinnell Glacier. Grinnell Glacier is one of the most accessible glaciers in the park but reaching it still requires over 10 miles of hiking, even if you, like us, cut out 2.5 miles of the journey with a scenic boat ride around Swiftcurrent Lake and Lake Josephine. Yet, this trek is well worth its 1,600-foot elevation gain. It passes through meadows bursting with vibrant wildflowers and over weathered cliffs adorned with lacey falls. Lower Grinnell Lake, with its striking turquoise hue, remains nestled below you as you ascend, demanding your attention like a glittering jewel on the neck of a captivating woman.

Your mouth may never close as you make your way to Grinnell, thanks to nature’s many exposed wonders, and your destination is no less spectacular. Grinnell Glacier, like all the remaining glaciers in the park, is thawing. It’s estimated that by 2020 it will no longer be a glacier. (People are dumb.) The waters melting from its spout have formed Upper Grinnell Lake, a shockingly blue body of water littered with icebergs. Grinnell’s frosty expanse exudes cold but, for Jason and me, capricious rain added an element of tangible chill as we took in that odd arctic block and its basin of icicle islands.

After that exhausting hike, we still had to drive 2 hours to get back to our cabin. The top of Logan Pass, the heart of the Continental Divide, was encased in a dense fog on our return voyage, making its precipitous drop-offs all the scarier. We made it back though, depleted but safe.

That is how our first two days in the park concluded. Next week’s post will cover our last two days. Be prepared for rides through the skies and rapid flips.

Jason gets a paid week-long vacation every year courtesy of his employer. Yes, the actual vacation is reimbursed, not just the time off. This year, Jason and I fancied using our free ride to see Glacier National Park in northwest Montana. Although many of our acquaintances questioned the coolness of this destination, you don’t need to be a genius to realize that coolness kind of comes with glaciers. Duh.

Although experiencing Glacier National Park was the primary purpose of our trip, we didn’t head there directly. Instead, we stayed a couple of nights at a waterside lodge in Whitefish, a friendly little town about half an hour from the park. Whitefish is primarily a tourist spot with Whitefish Lake attracting visitors in the summer and Whitefish Mountain Resort bringing skiers in the winter. Its easy-going attitude was instantly decompressing. Hello relaxation!

On our first afternoon, we decided to rent a canoe and paddle along the shore of the lake. We aren’t canoeing experts and we were pretty inefficient rowers but we had a great time gliding slowly through that watery landscape.

We spent the following day stepping on Big Mountain via the Danny On Trail, the most popular footpath in the Flathead Valley. Danny On attracts about 14,000 hikers every year but it wasn’t crowded when we trekked it. That’s probably because tendrils of clouds were tenaciously clawing their way up its slopes of pine and wildflower, threatening to unleash their moisture at any moment. Fortunately, rain didn’t materialize much out of that dense haze. The scenery, enshrouded in vapor, was dreamy but it provided more than just a feast for the eyes. Wild huckleberries, growing abundantly and ripe on the hillsides, warranted frequent tasty stops.

After our hike, we hooked in for a Walk in the Treetops at Whitefish Mountain Resort. A Walk in the Treetops is a hiking tour that travels through half a mile of forest on boardwalks that are suspended up to 70 feet in the air. This particular expedition is one of the few canopy tours available in North America. Surprisingly, although I am not crazy about heights, I didn’t mind the ground being so far away, for the most part, and enjoyed this informative and uplifting outing.

The next day we were off to Glacier National Park. Our adventures trudging onto its frozen expanses and getting cozy with its famous wildlife will be explored next week. Stay tuned.