Ptarmigan Tunnel

It was cold. Not the nice morning crisp cold that wakes you up on a brisk morning while camping, which is gracefully soothed with a morning fire. It was that bone-chilling cold. The kind of cold that you feel in the depths of your soul. The wind was flashing through the air and the rain was steadily pounding on the trail. A wiser man might have turned around and admitted defeat, but he had never been accused of being wise. He had finished weeks of working somewhere. Where had he been?

He really didn’t always remember where he had been anymore. Just another hotel, just another airport, just another job. The only time he really remembered where he was is when he was home, otherwise it was just another hotel room. But he had finished his last project, and now he was back home. Blessedly home.

He was home, and bone-chilling cold. Lost somewhere on the trail, in the moment, searching for the illusive wildlife. It really didn’t matter what kind of wildlife, just to see nature in its pure form was enough. Only in nature could one experience those moments of true transcendence. The beauty of the next bend. The animal dashing through the weeds. These were experiences that were irreplaceable.

The rain was unforgiving, pouring down everywhere, never ending. He would like to think he hiked up the trail, but at this point it was more of a drudge. Terrible weather, and in any normal circumstance it would be entirely uncomfortable. But he was home. He was out in nature. And he was finally out of cell phone coverage. Could the day get any better?

He had been hiking for the past five days in a row. Projects done, no longer bouncing in and out of airports, he had the whole week off. At the crack of dawn, even before dawn, he had drove the two hours to get to the trailhead. Just to watch the sky come alive as he started walking. The animals were more prevalent in the dusk and dawn hours. The best time to hike. He couldn’t be bothered to check the weather reports though, that would have been too easy. The result was a soaking mess hiking up a steep mountain.

Today he was hiking Ptarmigan Tunnel. Not the easiest trail in the area, plenty of incline, but fantastic vantage points to see animals all along the way. He wasn’t far from his final destination, which was the tunnel itself. The hike would be ten or eleven miles when it was all said and done. Where else could you enjoy this though?

He had traveled the world, at least to some extent. He even had lived in many different places. But the call of the wild, the call of the serene peace that only comes from natural beauty—he could find that here. Half drowned, drenched, and physically miserable, he could still find it here. The electricity in the air bristling off the alpine trees. The pure essence of life that hovered over the ground, so mystical it was almost tangible. These were available for those who would just seek them out. This was what life was supposed to be.

He reached his destination, taking some time to duck into the tunnel to dry off. Not that he could get that dry, knowing that he would have to traverse five miles back out. But still, a short reprieve from the rain, a chance to dry off, and the ability to get out of the wind. Just exiting the wind, that alone was a small miracle. He hadn’t found any wildlife life yet, but the day was still young, perhaps he would see something as he departed.

As the rain finally subsided, the sun in all its glory peeked around the clouds. He was passing the waterfalls when the air turned to a pleasant warmth. Perhaps this would entice the animals from where they had bedded down to avoid the onslaught of rain.

He exited the tree line, walking the ridge, and in the middle of the field was a black bear and her two cubs. This is what made this place so special. The trick was avoiding getting eaten, but if he could manage that, then it was truly an epic day. Of course, his one failing was that he usually tried to get eaten. That was generally frowned upon by his fellow hikers, but they didn’t understand that to take the perfect photograph, one had to take risks.

There’re only two lessons to animal safety. The key, he told himself, is to never spook an animal. If he could avoid spooking an animal, the risk was greatly minimized. The second key was for him to always be fully aware of the animal and their reaction to him. If he was approaching an animal, even from great distance, he always watched the animal to see any minute or nondescript reactions to his approach. This had saved him on multiple instances from animals making aggressive actions toward him. Always respect an animal’s reactions and their personal space, making sure to stay well outside of their areas of discomfort.

Of course, spooking and animal and getting too close to animals, often came down to luck. Walk around the bend and bump into an angry bear and prayer rapidly becomes the best answer. Quite possibly the only answer.

He was looking down the hillside, enjoying the company of his fellow nature lovers. In this case the sow and her cubs. She was smaller than he would have expected, and her cubs were actually difficult to see depending on how deep the grass was that they were playing in. They were mesmerizing though. Time slowed, responsibilities diminished, and simple eloquence remained. The raw power of the bear combined with the playful cartoonish flopping of the cubs made for a compulsive experience.

After a long time watching the bears, he walked the rest of the way to where he parked at the trailhead. One more amazing adventure complete. A day outside of cell coverage. Could life get any better than that? A day that can only be defined as victorious.

One might think the day was over, but still, quite simply, the most amazing drive known to man still awaited him. He drove the Going to the Sun road home. If it were possible for him to document, or to describe the experience, surely it would fill libraries. Mere words can’t describe the experience, and therefore he knew it was better to leave it undocumented. For those who wish to know what can’t be documented, they must experience it on their own, a blessing that few might ever truly experience.

He exited Glacier National Park, and continued his short drive to return to Kalispell, Montana. As he crossed the Middle Fork river, he marveled at the wonder that surrounded him. How is it possible that such beauty should exist?

He was in deep thought while he drove. One adventure had finished, but another one always awaits. He would hike again tomorrow. But where, that was the question. Where would his feet take him? Where indeed…