Happy Birthday, Glacier Park

G. GEORGE OSTROM / For the Hungry Horse News

NEXT MONDAY, May 10th, is GLACIER NATIONAL PARK'S ONE HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY, and it is imperative the long time "Trailwatcher" recognizes that event. Haven't a clear plan ready, so must sit and ponder.

Perhaps recalling my first trip to Glacier will get brain in gear. It was the summer of 1936, three years after grand opening of "Going to the Sun Highway." My dad was working at the Flathead Mine and we had a 1929 Chevy sedan. Crossing the South Fork was a sturdy wooden bridge near its junction with the Middle and North Forks and there was a log gas station/store on the east bank. The owners had a young black bear which drank bottles of pop to entertain tourists. It liked orange best. As I recall, the man said they had to get a new bear every year … but didn't know why.

All trees from Bad Rock to Belton had burned off in the destructive fire of 1929 so new lodgepole pines were dog hair thick and around five feet tall. I'd never seen such a uniform miniature forest before so that was amazing. At the Park entrance station, the ranger was a cheerful man who assured our family, "You will have a wonderful experience today." A few black bears were begging food and causing small jams along McDonald Creek. Because my father had a bad experience with bears as a range rider in Thompson River a few years earlier, he would not let us get involved.

Cars in those days easily overheated on long summer climbs but we had little trouble because of so many handy places to refill a water can and cool off the radiator. Going up The Garden Wall and over Logan Pass, I do not recall seeing any large wildlife such as goats, deer, or bighorns, but plenty of ground squirrels and a few marmots, which we unknowingly called woodchucks. Gazed in wonder at more wild flowers than I dreamed existed, and of course, the awesome peaks, valleys, and waterfalls. An 8-year-old boy was getting "hooked" for life.

Clearly recall the interior of Many Glacier Hotel. The balcony railings circling above the great lobby on each floor were decorated with grizzly bear rugs, I think "over 30" of them. Can't remember number at McDonald Lodge but there were some. Many Glaciers' astounding display is what I remember most clearly. Was secretly hoping to see a live one, but in those days … such and event was not in the cards.

On the long drive home, my two younger brothers and sister fell asleep early but I did not give up until we were past Bad Rock Canyon … to dream of my day in an enchanted world.

During later childhood there were other family trips to Glacier. One included my maternal grandmother. She was surviving life on her dry land homestead at Camas Prairie where sometimes even getting drinking water was a challenge. Grandma loved flowers and shrubs that she could never grow, so was entranced by the Park's vast displays. Remember my mother restraining her from picking a 'small" bouquet to take home because "that was not allowed." Grandma was deeply disappointed. Thankfully in her later years, there was a town home where she exuberantly made up for dreary decades without flowers.

The first place I visited after three years in the army was Glacier Park, and before moving to Washington D.C. during the Kennedy Administration, Iris and I spent our final weekend hiking Sperry Chalet. Home again, I got seriously into climbing lofty peaks, and learning the trails and photographing wildlife. Hundreds of days over these last 47 years have bestowed unmeasured blessings, which only Glacier Park could give.

No way to forget a Sunday climb high up the Belton Hills with young son Shannon about 40 years ago, and finding a large-antlered elk killed by another bull. Used a two-inch pocketknife and two hours of sweat to remove the head and carry it down, "post holing" through snow banks. Told complete details of my unusual accomplishment on Monday morning radio show. Minutes later, a telephone call from Chief Ranger concluded with this advice, "George! If you are going to be illegally removing elk horns form Glacier Park, at least don't tell the whole world about it."

My grandmother is not the only one who had to learn a Park rule … the hard way.

G. George Ostrom is a Kalispell resident and a national award-winning Hungry Horse News columnist.