Dynamic DJR: Glacier: Two stories and some pictures

Although I know I have the time to take my time, I keep feeling like I'm in a rush. Consequence of spending the last couple decades on such a time crunch, I suppose. Whatever the reason, Glacier was the first place I felt myself beginning to slow down.

I started my stay in the northwest corner, around Lake Bowman. While there, I hiked up to a lookout and had the good fortune to fall in with a hiking buddy. It'd been over a week since my last actual face-to-face conversation. I don't think I was too awkward.

Bowman Lake

The opposite end, as seen from the overlook

Learning about the circle of life

Story One

My last morning on the west side, I got up to watch the sunrise over the lake. Several other people were there, but everyone was quiet, talking in whispers. Occasionally folks would giggle at the mama loon teaching her 12 little loonnettes how to dive.

Suddenly, there came some loud talking from the left side of the lake. There's a bridge over there, and while it is out of sight of the beach, the terrain apparently acts as a natural amphitheater.

It started with a guy talking about how he'd "dreamt of this moment and prayed for this moment" followed by a girl shrieking, "Oh my God! I've never seen anything so beautiful!"

Yep. It was a marriage proposal.

For the next 15 minutes, the peacefulness of the beach was interrupted with exclamations of "I can't believe I'm engaged!" and "It's just so beautiful!" Then friends who were evidently in on the plan arrived, and the girl repeated the whole story in loud, gushing tones.

I suppose the the guy was still there. After his "dreaming and praying" speech, I didn't hear him speak again.

Meanwhile, those of us on the beach continued to quietly watch the loons and the sunrise, only occasionally exchanging sideways glances.

Help with dinner

Story Two

After leaving the west side of the park, I wanted to hike the Triple Divide Pass trail, which leads to spot the Continental Divide meets the Hudson Divide. Arriving early at the trailhead, I found it crowded with a large group of maybe 30 men. Their packs only seemed big enough for a day hike, at the same time, they carried a lot of equipment. A couple of them even had satellite antennas.

I was grateful I still needed to eat breakfast and could give them a lengthy head start.

Triple Divide Peak is the pointy one on the right

For the first couple hours, I only saw one other person. That changed when I had about an hour left before I reached the pass. In groups of 2 to 4, the men from the trailhead were jogging down the mountain. The first 3 or 4 groups seemed to be in some sort of a race. It was odd though. Between their clothes, clunky boots, and bulky packs, they didn't seemed dressed for the race. Also, the later groups didn't seem competitive at all. I asked one of the slower guys what kind of race was taking place. He looked confused, saying, "Race? No. No race. This is just for fun."

Huh.

They were all really friendly, however, so I didn't sweat it much.

When I reached the pass, there were already several people up there. I was greeted enthusiastically by an older lady who exclaimed, "Finally! Another woman! I was overwhelmed by all that masculine energy up there and it's a relief to see another female!"

By this time, most of the men from the large group had left, but a few remained. While eating snacks and avoiding marmots, they told me that they were all ex-military who'd served in Afghanistan. On August 6, 2011, the deadliest day of the fighting, their units lost a lot of men. Since then, they all get together on the anniversary to "commemorate and get their asses kicked."

I told them about my initial guess about the race. They laughed, saying, "yeah, those younger guys were definitely racing."