Opinion: Scratching the Belly

So over the weekend we wandered around the Belly River of Glacier National Park. A permit opened up in a camp we normally don’t go to until later in the fall, when just about everyone has cleared out.

I enjoy Glacier in the fall immensely, even when it rains and snows (as long as its not a torrential rain, which sucks the fun out of life).

But it’s not too shabby in July, either, even if it was the hottest day of the year. We did the quick hike down to camp, took a short nap and then did a longish day hike, which is to say it added about 10 miles onto the journey.

The idea was to find the North Fork of the Belly River Trail. A park employee gave me a good idea of where to go and his directions were spot on.

There was just one problem with it: It was in the trees and extremely brushy.

It’s pretty much an administrative trail — one used to keep an eye on the border.

As such, it sees almost no regular foot traffic and I cannot recommend going there, unless you like to feel around with your feet for the trail and you have an affinity for doghair lodgepole pine.

I did a similar hike last year in the North Fork, tracing a route from the Inside North Fork Road to Quartz Lake.

This trail is also one of those administrative routes — it goes to a private home a few miles in and then it’s hello lodgepole for miles and miles.

I don’t mind hikes in the woods, but that hike is one of those journeys you could leave a note in your car and tell everyone where you were going and if things went belly up and you were 100 yards off trail, they’d still never find you.

Yes, Glacier still has plenty of places people don’t go to.

Most for good reason.

The weekend heat was draining. We brought the Tenkara rod and had planned to do some fishing, but when I asked the boy if he wanted to go he said no and went to bed. It’s already getting darker earlier and as August rolls around, I think we lose about 3 minutes of daylight each day.

Each fall there’s a day or two where I get melancholy about this, not because of the onset of winter — I’ve actually grown to enjoy winter — but because another hiking season is over and I’m in the best shape of the year and the days are just too short to get to everywhere I’d like to go.

I suppose one could make a death analogy here. Sure, I’m running out of trips in the big picture of life, but it’s still pretty cool that some of the best happen in the end.

But I digress.

Since the boy went to bed early, I walked over to the Belly River Ranger Station.

They’re putting a new porch on it. A mule walked up to the fence and I gave the critter a good scratch as Gable Peak glowed orange.

The mosquitos were after the mule, too, and as I scratched him the dust rose from his hide.

I don’t know if mules can smile, but it sure looked like it to me.