Glacier National Park enchants first-time visitor

Glacier National Park casts a spell on all who witness its grandeur. Its sculpted peaks, turquoise lakes, and magnificent wildlife are its wand, 1.4 million acres its stage.

I had seen so much of this park on television and in pictures over the years. Now it was time to behold its stunning landscapes and remarkable wildlife with my own eyes and capture its splendor with my own camera.

In scenic Glacier National Park, the author was witness to a herd of bighorn sheep-including this pair of kids, whose frolicsome is preparation for survival. photo by Eric Plante

I drive the winding road through thick forests of pine, fir, and spruce. Farther along, the forest gives way to a serene lake. The shoreline's many cobblestone beaches become more inviting as the pavement whips by. I pull off the road and take a seat on a sun-drenched beach-a tiny, yet cozy, stone-studded patch barely visible from the road. A lone canoeist stirs up the only ripples on the lake's glasslike surface. Jagged peaks capped with white punctuate the tranquil scene. Life's troubles
seem to dissipate into the cool,
crisp air.

I hate to break my entranced state, but I need to move on. The road continues its skyward climb. Majestic mountains pose for my camera, while rushing waterfalls saturate the nutrient-rich soil. My nerves are rattled as I peer out the car window to see the roadside plummet straight down to meet the lush, green valley below.

I park the car to take a short hike, but first I am greeted by a small herd of bighorn sheep. The bachelor rams have a set routine of tearing up vegetation, then lifting their heads to chew, all the while posing for a slew of camera lenses. I make my way up the partially snow-covered trail.

The trail's end reveals a scene almost too much for me to take in. The mountain lake seems like some kind of surreal vision-white knights armed with daggers patrol the gates. This is a mountain goat paradise.

A large herd grazes on trailside vegetation, just feet from their two-legged admirers. Most of the attention falls on a pair of kids. Just 3 months old, the youngsters frolic alongside the trail, and engage in wrestling bouts and King of the Mountain. Boisterous play that is so entertaining and pleasing to the eye is so crucial to their future success. They momentarily touch noses, then mom summons them back to the group.

I return to the car and drive the incredibly scenic park road to its end, and set off on a four-mile hike through prime grizzly bear habitat. As I approach my destination, I witness a color no jewel, gem, or stone could match-the radiant turquoise lake takes my breath away.

High on the mountain slope behind me I spot a grizzly bear sow and her cub. The mother is busy digging up roots, while the cub's mealtime is shared with playtime. And mom has the added task of keeping her youngster close. I watch the bears work their way across the slope until I lose sight of them in thick brush.

I can't imagine a world without national treasures like this. How lost we would feel without the calm of a mountain lake. How empty we would feel without the sight of majestic peaks rising to meet the clouds. How unfortified our minds and bodies would be without vigorously flowing rivers and streams and patches of cobblestone on which to reflect. So alone we would feel without the whimsical play of baby mountain goats, without the free-roaming grizzly bear sow and her offspring, without the regal bighorn rams.

I perch myself atop a slab of red rock and gaze upon the scene before me. Suddenly, I hear a faint tick, tick, tick. The sound grows more audible by the second, and then a man using a walking stick comes into view. The blind man pauses to catch his breath, then continues his slow uphill trudge unaided.

I lose the struggle to hold back tears. He can't see the exquisite turquoise water, the sculpted granite rising skyward, or the cascading waterfall. He can't see the grizzly bear mother and cub, so glorious in their natural environment. He can't see the rich blue hue in the sky. But I just know he can feel it.