Coming back to Montana after my weekend at Hinterland was harder than I thought it would be. Not necessarily because I missed home, and definitely not because I wasn’t excited to be back. It just felt different when I returned. The city felt more suffocating than it did in the past. That, mixed with the whiplash of going to my old home only to leave again five days later shifted the ground under my feet.
It was the first time that my move to Bozeman didn’t act as the “catch-all” solution for mental health and happiness I experienced for the past three weeks.
Before anyone gets the wrong idea, I didn’t expect Bozeman to suddenly cure my every ailment. However, moving to the mountains and finding such a great community did vastly improve my mental health, to the point that I really didn’t have to worry about it at all. I constantly felt healthy and free, and I lived just about every day with a sense of possibility and wonder. Of course, things can’t be good all the time, and that honeymoon phase had to crack at some point.
A creative block prevented me from writing, work shifts felt longer, and the guests at my hostel suddenly decided they all wanted to be high-maintenance (which, come on, you’re paying like $35/night… I’m sorry this isn’t the Marriott). To make matters worse, the city of Bozeman awoke from the small but exciting town I’ve known for the past few weeks and turned into one big college move-in as thousands of students and their parents flooded the streets.
Everything in Bozeman was twice as crowded and three times as slow-moving for the weekend
I felt only one clear solution to it: leave… And I knew just the place.
Going to the Sun
In all the national parks I’ve visited, there is always one that people hold highest in their regard. No matter who I’m talking to, if they’ve been here it’s likely at the top of their list of most beautiful places they’ve ever been.
It’s a place that, because of its location, has always stayed at the top of my national park bucket list, but yet has never been within my grasp. Bozeman is the first time it’s been within driving distance to me, and I wanted to take advantage of what might be my best shot to get there unless I move there myself (which, after visiting, definitely isn’t off the table).
I’m sure some of you have already guessed what place I’m talking about: Glacier National Park.
The idea to go to Glacier started because a hostel mate, McKenna Bright, and I wanted to see The Head and the Heart when they played a concert about 30 minutes from the park. However, it didn’t remain a duo trip for long. Our shared extroversion got the best of us and we subliminally started a game to see who could get the most people to join our adventure. Slowly but surely, we caught the attention of three other workers and even a guest. A blink of an eye later, we crammed the supplies for 5 people into three cars and set off to the mountains.
Although leaving Bozeman was an elaborate game of “Don’t Get Hit By the Class of 2028,” the chaos didn’t last long. The road opened up once outside Bozeman, and some amazing views came with it. Cattle farms, ranches, and fields of crops dominated the land around us, honestly reminding me a lot of a more mountainous Iowa
We kept driving until a small pit stop in the town of Missoula where we saw a cute town, ate some amazing Mexican food, and regrouped with everyone in our caravan. The reunion didn’t last long, however. We were all eager to get back in the car and go full-speed into the Northern Montana wilderness.
Soon, tall pines and ever-closer peaks replaced the farms and ranches. National forests and alpine lakes replaced open fields. Within no time, we passed by the sign for the national park.
Our campground lay just inland from Lake McDonald, a large lake at the base of the glacier range, resting in a valley of soft tree-covered hills. We set up camp, started a fire, and relaxed for a bit. The sun hung low, and we considered what our first night might hold. It wasn’t long before someone suggested we take a cold plunge to welcome the weekend.
Electric with nerves, we unpacked our suits, stripped down, and ran to the lake. Icy water bit at our feet, we plunged our heads under it anyway and swam even further out. At the far end of the lake, glowing pink in the sunset, were glacier peaks in all their glory. It would’ve taken the air out of my lungs if the cold didn’t do it already. Each stroke we took toward the middle of the lake revealed another peak, covered in the warm glow.
We soon realized we were halfway across the lake and 20 minutes into our cold plunge, so we all doggy-paddled back to shore and put on our warmest layers before retreating back to camp. We sat under the stars and made s’mores until the cold night air pushed us into our sleeping bags for the night.
Although my ears already rang with excitement, I was more elated for the next day. And so I slept, like I would after an amazing Christmas Eve waiting for an even better Christmas Morning.
Day One
I woke up before sunrise and walked down to the lake I swam in a few hours before. I set up my chair and made coffee on my backpacking stove while I watched ducks and fog lazily move across the lake. It was peaceful, and the view under the fog only emphasized my dreams of how it would feel to be above it. It was only a few hours before I’d get that answer.
In the meantime, I finished my cup and walked back up to the campsite to wake up the rest of my group. They rustled in their bags before becoming brave enough to bear the cold and pack up camp.
The drive into the mountains is called Going to the Sun Road, which felt a little too on the nose for a world covered in fog. The views around us only offered us a glimpse or two of the sun, sometimes when the mountains and wind worked together to form a break in the haze.
But, suddenly, we were in the clouds. Then we drove above them.
Like out of a fairytale, enormous peaks, covered in green, soared jaggedly out of the fog below us. As if we were on a mountainous island, and the clouds were the ocean. Breathtaking seems like an understatement, but I don’t quite know what word would do it better justice.
The drive mesmerized me and sent my adrenaline soaring. We careened across mountainsides, the roadside plunging deep into the world below us. Luckily I had two backseat drivers, McKenna and Isabelle, who took pictures whenever needed so I could focus on not driving off a cliff.
Our bucket list hikes take a backseat while on the drive. We spent hours pulling off on every outlook to take pictures, chat, and eat a few snacks. Although It wasn’t the active day I expected, it was gorgeous all the same. I already knew deep in my stomach that just one more full day wasn’t going to cut it.
After realizing our 12-mile planned hike probably wasn’t in realistic, we settled for a smaller trail closer to camp instead called Avalanche Lake. It was an easy five-mile out-and-back, but it was just nice to be on two feet in nature. The mountains are easy to admire in the car but difficult to really appreciate. You need to be in them to see just how impressive their heights are.
After our hike, we sauntered back to camp for dinner and one last sunset dip in the lake. I cooked fajitas while the others prepared plates and built a fire. We ate below the stars, traded stories, joked, and played games. Once again, the weather turned cold enough that everyone wore jackets or blankets, and we huddled closer to the fire before retreating to our warm sleeping bags for another night under the stars.
Day Two
We woke up determined to not miss a big hike again, but sadly it seems everyone else in the park did as well because we spent twenty minutes driving around a full parking lot behind 20 other vulture cars, all preying on parking spots to steal. That time never came, so we retreated a bit further down the mountain and parked on the side of the road to hike to our hike. Our coveted destination was the Highline Trail – an 11.7-mile trail that hugs the steep sides of mountains to provide immaculate views of the valleys below.
We didn’t end up doing the whole trail, though, because everyone in my group was exhausted. It’s crazy how much swimming, building fires, driving, posing for pictures, and sleeping on the ground can take it out of someone. We enjoyed the views while we had them, but I had to fight for every minute I wanted to hike past the minute I promised I’d turn around.
We hightailed it across Highline back to our cars and had a leisurely drive out of the mountains, stopping periodically to eat another snack and have one last gaze at the mountains.
It was one of the first times I had an intense urge to come back to a national park before I even left. The only other time was in the Grand Tetons. There was so much left to explore, and that immediately put the park firmly on my bucket list for another time – this time I’m much more certain we’ll meet again sometime soon… maybe I’ll even move there.
Beyond Glacier
Every time I step outside in Montana I’m reminded to enjoy the amazing world around me. The town I live in has towering mountains on every side of me, and it’s hard not to spend every day planning which one I want to climb next. There is so much possibility here, and I can’t wait to keep exploring it.
However, the leaves are slowly starting to change and the weather is dipping below the highs of July. I can tell that summer is coming to an end, and with it, I know my time in Bozeman is coming to an end as well.
I just need to remind myself to keep cherishing it while I have it. Yes, I’m excited for my next chapter, but I also don’t want this one to end either.
I think that’s a beautiful thing, to love where you are and also where you’re going. I’m going to keep chasing that feeling.
