Seeing almost 3 million visitors in 2018, Glacier National Park isn’t a piece of public land that could be described as “under-appreciated”. Its spectacular scenery and excellent infrastructure beckons crowds of hikers and backpackers who often fill its trails and backcountry campsites to capacity. However, given its enormous acreage – over one million acres – backpackers who don’t mind spending some time hiking cross-country or doing out-and-back portions of their trip to corners of the park that are less popular can enjoy impressive landscapes as well as solitude.

Glacier National Park offers stunning mountain scenery with characteristics unlike any other mountain backpacking destination in the United States.

5 Nights in Glacier National Park

The five-night, six-day trip that I took during peak hiking season was planned by my hiking partner, Doug, who has a knack for putting together well-crafted trips that typically zig where the crowds zag. Unfortunately, this year Doug also had the misfortune of conjuring up rainy weather on the majority of his backpacking trips. Prior to the trip, he warned me about the Charlie Brown-esque rain cloud that had been following him around the backcountry and I offered the hope that my lucky streak of good weather backpacking trips would help balance things out. Doug’s meteorological magnetism apparently won out, as all but the first and last days of the trip had significant rainfall and lingering clouds that obscured some of the views that we had hiked so far to see.

Starting just a few hundred feet from the Canadian border at the Chief Mountain and Belly River Trailhead, sunny skies and pleasant temperatures provided us an auspicious start for our adventure. Our destination lake for the day was an out-of-the-way body of water with no trails connecting it to other parts of the Glacier National Park trail system. After a few miles steadily ascending through the forest, we emerged onto the windswept expanse of Lee Ridge and got some of our first vistas of the trip. Although slightly obscured by haze from wildfires that had drifted in from outside the park, the view of Chief Mountain to the east and the ridges and peaks stretching westward toward the interior of the park were mesmerizing. After a short break at the junction to which we would return to in two days to continue on our trip, we continued on through wildflowers, varying at different elevations from past-peak to seemingly freshly bloomed, providing a somewhat unexpected botanical highlight to our hike.

Arriving at an unoccupied campground, we hung our food and other odorous items and picked out the site where we would stay the next two nights. No fishing was allowed at the lake to facilitate restoration of native bull trout, but it was still an excellent place to relax and admire the quintessential scenery of one of the most magnificent places in the Northern Rockies and, arguably, in North America. With temperatures warm enough to make swimming a relaxed activity, rather than a rushed and frigid affair, an idle afternoon passed by at a perfect pace. Although we expected other hikers to arrive and share the campground with us, none had arrived by the time we went to sleep – meaning we had seen no other hikers on the trail during our first day in an exceedingly busy park.

The next morning, we left our basecamp early to hike cross-country and hopefully before the predicted afternoon showers arrived. As far as cross-country travel goes, it was a relatively unremarkable challenge – a few steep sections here and there, some dense forest to push through, and uneven footing. Slow going, but not particularly brutal. We passed by the remains of an old cabin associated with the historical mining activity in the area. A splendid view of a waterfall added to the already beautiful location of the long abandoned structure. Skirting the thickest parts of the forest where possible and using the stable talus slope to make quick progress, we reached our destination for the day – another beautiful backcountry lake – about two hours after leaving our camp, a reasonable but not record-setting pace. Not surprisingly, we had the beautiful basin all to ourselves. As we admired our alpine surroundings and the austere beauty of the location, we kept our eyes to the weather as well. Thick clouds swirled around the peaks above the lakes, but no thunder rumbled or rain dropped. Not wanting to push our luck, we headed back to basecamp after a quick snack.

As the afternoon transitioned into evening, the clouds increased and we knew that we’d better not push our luck by delaying dinner. No sooner had we hung our food than the light drizzle transitioned into a steady rain shower, which continued off and on – mostly on – for the rest of the night. No other campers had arrived during the day so, for the second night in a row, we had a campsite to ourselves. We might not have been lucky in regard to the weather on this trip, but at least for the first half we were rewarded with solitude. The next day’s itinerary called for a 14 mile hike, after which we would again stay two nights at a campsite and spend a day exploring to an off-trail lake.

Fortunately, the rain stopped an hour or so before daybreak which allowed us to not have to pack up or hike in the rain, although our tents were soaked. The moisture that clung to the thick brush alongside the trail did its best to penetrate the rain paints, gaiters, and waterproof boots we wore and, after a few hours of hiking, it had largely won out. Damp socks and rain pants and gaiters that never had a chance to get all the way dry would be defining characteristics of the next few days.

During our hike, a minor catastrophe occurred that took our minds off of saturated socks. At some point the previous day, the safety from Doug’s bear spray had come loose and fell off, likely during our cross-country excursion. When he shouldered his pack after we took a break, he inadvertently depressed the trigger and a small burst of bear spray was released and got on his arm and stomach. An intense burning quickly manifested itself there and was stubbornly resistant to attempts to wash it off later in the day. The burning persisted with various intensity for the next four days. Needless to say, I found myself double-checking my bear spray safety about a dozen times per day for the rest of the trip.

Once we reached our campsite for the day, a process which was delayed slightly because of an abundance of delicious huckleberries, we settled in and were able to eat dinner before an evening shower settled in. Even with low hanging clouds blocking much or our view, the scenery was still impressive. Slipping in to damp boots the next morning, we hiked towards Stony Indian Pass and ran into several groups of backpackers hiking across the park before we headed cross-country to a striking lake tucked into a marvelous cirque. Several thin waterfalls poured down from the surrounding basin and served to distract us from the steep ascent.

Once we had arrived we merely had time to take a few pictures, snack, and then ponder the increasingly uncertain weather before returning to basecamp. An afternoon thunderstorm forced us into our tents shortly after our arrival and the rest of the afternoon was one of the rainiest of the trip, with only a brief interlude that allowed us to eat before over twelve hours of straight rain fell before finally tapering off late the next morning. We were fortunate on this trip to not have to hike in the rain, set up camp in the rain, or break camp in the rain – all of which can be rather miserable experiences – but that didn’t save us from becoming saturated while hiking along brush-lined trails or off-trail to a breathtaking waterfall above the lake.

Our next day’s hike was only a few miles, which meant we had plenty of time in the afternoon to set up camp and relax. If the sun had been shining, it would have allowed our gear to finally become something approaching dry, although a few brief showers overnight would have meant that it would have been a short-lived victory.

Back to the Trailhead

On the last day of our trip, we awoke to sunny skies, ideal hiking temperatures, and a beautiful view up the lake where we’d camped towards Stony Indian Pass. To make the most of the trip and secure at least one magnificent vista for our memories, we left camp early and did a side trip up Bear Mountain Point to the site of a former fire lookout. The views from this vantage point and on the trail to it were incredible and included a view of Mount Cleveland, the highest point in the park at 10,479 feet, as well as the Belly River Valley which we had hiked up a few days prior and would be hiking out that afternoon. Soaking up the sun at that overlook, with barely a cloud in the sky, was a great way to end the trip on a high note.

While weather certainly has an outsized impact on the memory of a trip and the subjective quality of it, it can sometimes serve more as enticement to return rather than a barrier to enjoyment. Such was the case with this trip. Although maybe next time, I’ll take someone at their word when they say their luck is such that they could make it rain in the Sahara and seek out another partner with drier luck to balance the scales.

Need to Know

Information

Like the majority of national parks, Glacier National Park requires a permit for backpacking. These permits are highly coveted and advance reservations, which are awarded through a lottery system each spring, are virtually the only way to ensure that you get the exact itinerary you want. Fortunately, the park also holds back permits that are available on a first-come, first-serve basis available the day before your trip starts. Even if your reservations didn’t result in the exact sites you wanted, you can often modify your trip (easier the longer your trip is) to change your campsites to better suit your ideal trek. More information about backcountry permits is available here.

Best Time to Go

Mid-July to mid-September are the prime times for backpacking in Glacier National Park. Early season challenges can include snow and ice on certain passes, but most major water crossings have seasonal bridges installed to mitigate this hazard. Early to mid-summer typically has more impressive wildflowers, but also more mosquitoes and other flying pests. Later in the season can be a beautiful time of year, especially when the aspen don their fall colors, but temperatures can be downright frigid at night at high elevations and sudden dumps of snow can complicate travel at higher elevations depending on how late in the season you go and what weather patterns coincide with your trip.

Getting There

Glacier has numerous major trailheads for accessing the backcountry, as well as dozens of minor ones. Our hike started in the extreme northeast corner of the park from the Chief Mountain/Belly River Trailhead just a few hundred feet shy of the Canadian border along the Chief Mountain International Peace Parkway. This area can be accessed a few different ways, but most traffic will be coming through East Glacier Park, MT and then heading north via scenic Hwy. 49 to Hwy. 89 and continuing north to Hwy. 17 before turning west on Hwy. 17 which takes you to the trailhead.

Maps and Books

The National Geographic Trails Illustrated Glacier and Waterton Lakes National Park map is sufficient for most on-trail travel in the park; for cross-country travel printing out more detailed topographic maps from CalTopo or a similar resource is strongly recommended. Several guidebooks are available for Glacier National Park and provide descriptions of trails and suggested hikes. Hiking Glacier and Waterton Lakes National Parks by Erik Molvar is a useful resource, as is Top Trails: Glacier National Park: Must-Do Hikes for Everyone by Jean Arthur. Up-to-date and firsthand information is also available at ranger stations.

Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 43 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.