In 1918, National Park Service engineer George Goodwin drew the plans for the daring feat that would become Going-to-the-Sun Road. Ultimately, his plan had too many switchbacks to become the mellifluous beauty that others had envisioned. Thomas Vint, a National Park Service landscape architect, had a different vision that called for sweeping lengths and just one switchback up to Logan Pass. The Park Service engaged Frank Kittredge of the Bureau of Public Roads to lead the Herculean effort to build the newly designed road with only one switchback. Kittredge began in 1924. A vision of a national treasure was already underway, as Congress had begun providing annual funds for the road’s construction in the early 1920s. Kittredge and his crew of thirty-two men climbed on foot 3,000 feet some mornings to reach the road survey sites. In the first three months, Kittredge saw men abandon at a 300 percent rate, according to one National Park Service history. The Loop switchback has facilities and a parking lot, and it’s where we stopped for lunch before the last steeper push to the top. It wasn’t long into the final leg that a four-legged creature ambled out of the roadside underbrush. A young black bear seemed more interested in his own life pursuits than stopping to mingle with any of us. Farther up the road, you can’t miss Bird Woman Falls, a 500-foot cascading waterfall in the saddle between Mount Oberlin and Mount Cannon. One of Glacier’s biggest falls, Bird Woman will remind you to take a moment to drink your own water as you continue your climb. There is no shortage of water on this road. Farther on, cool meltwater pours broadly and gently out of a rock wall on the left side of the road. Weeping Wall is a geological formation that might otherwise be confused with a man-made
contrivance put there for overheated cyclists as they approach the summit. Best practice here is to dismount and walk under the falling water and the slick surface underfoot. Logan Pass arrives on a breeze and sense of accomplishment. From the parking lot, it’s not difficult to spy mountain goats lolling on the distant mountainside. Their ancestors from the 1930s would have been astounded enough to stop the ruminants mid-grass as music floated across the mountain meadows to where they stood. In 1933, Going-to-the-Sun Road opened to a chorus of Civilian Conservation Corps members and the Blackfeet Tribal Band who played The Star Spangled Banner for nearly 4,000 people atop Logan Pass. There is natural memory in the surrounding granite, in some musical DNA micro-mutations of the resident mountain goats and in the breeze that conducts its own woodwind sonata. Take time to celebrate the victories, the beauty, the small things, the natural, and one of the finest journeys for either bike or e-bike tribes. After the Conservation Corps chorus and Blackfeet Tribe played The Star Spangled Banner, it was followed by a ceremony of peace between the Blackfeet, Flathead and Kootenai tribes. A photo from the Montana Historical Society from that time shows Blackfeet Indians in tribal dress, some on horseback, and mingling with white people outside of a line of impressive tipis. Not all celebrations will feel exactly the same, but they will resonate and tingle as you begin your descent from Logan Pass to the baptism waters of Weeping Wall, past Bird Woman Falls to The Loop’s single switchback, the canopy along Lake McDonald and taking the form of a furtive smile as you drive back to Whitefish, where good food and drink taste even better in the cool mountain nights.
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP Descending Going-to-the-Sun Road. The refreshing Weeping Wall for a quick cooldown. A juvenile black bear made a brief appearance. In the distance, Bird Woman Falls. Success at the Logan Pass summit.
60 1889 WASHINGTON’S MAGAZINE AUGUST | SEPTEMBER 2024
