Short Stories from Glacier

The Animal…

It was our second day in Glacier National Park… the first had been overcast, gloomy, and windy. Our first night in Glacier, it rained on us… a lot, and we awoke to this, our second day, to a dry but overcast and cold morning.

As we stood in the rain the night before, eating our Ramen quickly so we could get into the tent, we decided (after deciding not to leave immidiately) to hike up the Swiftcurrent Valley  past the three lakes that reside in the valley floor and the waterfalls that link them. We had been told afterall, by a very enthusiastic information-counter-staffer, that the edges of the three lakes, and especially the last, and farthest up the valley, were “Prime Moose Habitat”.

We began the morning with a heated discussion about whether I had fully informed Lexie about how miserable our stay in Glacier would be, and specficially how cold it was. As it turned out, I had brought 2 beanies, and several pairs of wool socks. As she had brought only one of each of the aforementioned items, she was feeling under-prepared and ill-informed. It was in this spirit that we began our slog, fully decked out in fleeces, beanies, and gloves, with the grey skies matching our mood… 20 hours of driving for this?

We told ourselves this would be our test day. We paid for only one more night in the campground, keeping our options for a quick retreat wide open. Thankfully, the sun began to peak out here and there, showing us glimpses of the splendor that surrounded us. Slowly the skies opened and the sun shown on the beautiful valley and glacier carved spires that surrounded us.  Our spirits (and our eyes) began to rise accordingly.

Finally, we were in full sun and Glacier National Park glittered all around us in its full majesty. While it was clear that the park was trying to make up for the misery and disappointment it had thusfar inflicted upon us, we were not quire ready to fully forgive it yet. We had come on this hike for the moose habitat and we were ready to see some wildlife!… which we did, all around us were squirrels… tons of squirrels, of all shapes and sizes (well all squirrel sizes at least). They scattered from the trail and called to one another as we walked through their townships. With each squirrel that scampered off the trail, our hopes lept to the sky. “An animal!!!”, only to come crashing down to the earth… “only another squirrel.” But despite our hopes and probing eyes we saw no larger wildlife as we made our way to the head of the valley and ate our lunch…  we continued to scan the lakeshores and marshes all the while.

We had turned around at approximately the 5 mile mark, and it was early afternoon as we began the return trip- disappointed not to have seen anything worthy of a zoo exhibit, and resenting the park a little bit for not going all out in winning our hearts (as it had seemed to go all out in crushing our spirits previously). Nonetheless, we remained optimistic that each new corner we faced would yield an awe inspiring cornicopia of fauna just a few steps further… it didn’t happen like that though.

Instead we were on a long straight section of the trail, about halfway back to the trailhead, hiking quietly, knowing that with each step, the likelyhood of spotting a fantastical creature diminished (because each step brought us closer to the more developed areas of the park). Then I heard something… a sigh… not unlike the sound made by a horse exhaling quickly to jettison annoying flies from its head or nose.

I called Lexie back, and we stood in silence on the trail looking up a hill into the dense forest from where the sound had come… nothing… then!… nothing… but wait… there was something… russling in the trees back away from the trail… then, the huffing sound again. There was definitely something back there, something big.

Since arriving in the park the previous day we had been unremittingly accosted by warnings of the wild and dangerous natures of all the animals in the park, and particular of the grizzly bears. The informational packet provided us upon entry to the park had advised that if contact with a grizzly took place, one should avoid eye contact and get away ASAP… further we were informed that if attacked by a grizzly, we should assume the fetal position and cover our necks with our hands to “minimize the damage from the attack” (this instruction seemed unnecessary to my ears, as I can’t imagine doing much else in the event of a grizzly attack besides quickly resorting to the fetal position).

“Is it a bear?”, Lexie whispered… her voice sounded as if she might be preparing to assume the fetal position.

Neither of us moved as we stared into the thick forest and waited as the sounds of a large animal moving through the underbrush grew closer. The trees seemed unwilling to reveal their occupant, and I began to feel as though I was staring at a magic eye poster, changing the depth at which my eyes focused hoping a 3-D animal would pop out of the seemingly random scribles of the tree branches… then, all of a sudden, there it was. A brown face… a LARGE brown face looking out at us, 40 feet away and 6.5 feet (at least) off the ground.

Luckily I knew what to do. I was in the fetal position before you could say “Bear Attack!!!!!”

Turns out that all of my training and quick reflexes were for naught, as the bull moose that was looking out at us from the trees didn’t seemed inclined to maul anyone… did I mention that it was a REALLY big bull moose.

After picking myself up off the ground, I started snapping pictures. The above is the first picture I took, so you can see how the moose appeared. We watched him for probably 5 minutes as he worked his way down towards us. We summoned one other approaching hiker who happened upon us, and the three of attempted to stay out of the moose’s way while taking pictures of it.

Eventually, the moose crossed the trail right where we had been standing as we tried to see what was rumaging around in the brush. Lex was ecstatic, and as we watched the moose cross the trail, I realized two things… 1. Moose (Mooses?) (Moosen?)  are HUGE, it’s shoulder was higher than my head, 2. This was a turning point of the trip, after a miserable first day, a wet first night, and a dreary start to our first hike, things were looking up.

As the moose walked off into the forest and out of sight, Lex hugged me and said, “I’m so glad we came!”… Funny, I was starting to think the same thing

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