One of the most accessible places for late season skiing in Montana is Logan Pass (elevation 6,680') on "Going to the Sun Road" in Glacier National Park. There is convenient access to low angle snowfields right above the Logan Pass Visitor Center, and further up, the slopes of Clements (8,760') and Reynolds (9,125') mountains provide higher angle slopes. Once again, just like last year when I was planning our trip to ski Beartooth Pass, I found very little information available on the Internet about skiing at Logan Pass. Aside from a couple of mildly informative articles that mentioned that there WAS skiing there, the potential ski routes remained a mystery. We were going to have to go on our own experience, or hope that the park rangers might offer suggestions. One new twist on this backcountry outing was the addition of our 4 1/2-month old son Tyler. Although he'd been up to the lodge numerous times while we'd skied at our local ski area, Lost Trail Powder Mountain, he'd never actually been out on the snow with us. Now that he was old enough to regulate his body temperature well, and the weather was warm, he was going to join us.

Last year, we attempted to ski Logan Pass in late July, but we were about a week too late. When I spoke with the park rangers, they indicated that the snowpack was just a bit too thin to protect the vegetation underneath. There were some short pitches of snow higher up, but they were disconnected from the main snowfield, they looked potentially sketchy due to undermining, and the hike up to them didn't look safe at all. I decided that it wasn't worth it, and chalked the idea onto my "ski trips to do" board.

Flash forward to late spring 2003, and due to warm temperatures, crews have been able to get rid of "The Big Drift" on Going to the Sun Road, and Logan Pass has opened earlier than usual. The previous year, due to late snows, including one storm that dropped four feet of snow in mid June, the road didn't open until nearly the end of the month. This year however, due to warm temperatures, the road opened on May 30th. It was exciting to hear this news, and it immediately had me thinking of the prospect of getting up to Logan Pass early in the season and getting the best snow options. As I looked ahead to the forecast for the following weekend, things were looking good with temperatures in the 70s for the valleys, and no rain predicted. I was worried when a landslide closed the road early in the week (some huge house-sized boulders had fallen on the road) but the road was quickly opened with the help of explosives, and our trip was back on.

Friday came around, and we were off. On the way up to Glacier, I picked up an inclinometer at Pipestone, a local mountaineering shop. Since we'd obtained such little information off the internet about skiing in the area, I was both curious about the slopes we'd be skiing, as well as excited to contribute to the knowledge base of Glacier National Park skiing with my own report. I'd entertained suggestions of building my own inclinometer, but I wanted something that was quick and easy to use. From previous experience on steep slopes, the last thing I wanted to do was fumble around with some homemade contraption when hanging on the side of a snow covered wall. I wanted a bomb-proof device that would deliver on the spot. So, I went with a Slope Meter from Life-Link. It was fairly inexpensive (~$15), and it looked like a nice slick unit. You place your pole on the snow, stick the card shaped meter on your pole, and a little weighted needle gives you your angle. It seemed pretty simple to me.

If you are unfamiliar with Glacier National Park and want to follow along
on a portion of the park map, just click on the link and it will open a new window with a
map that highlights some of the places I mention in the report.

Friday night, we grabbed a campsite at the Sprague Creek Campground along the shores of Lake McDonald. Last time we tried to camp in the park, and arrived in the evening, everything was full. I think that June might be a little less crowded than July and August, since the road might not be open and people aren't likely to plan a big trip in advance. It was a nice cool night, the temperature dropped to 49 F in the tent, and although I don't know what it dropped to outside, it's generally about 10 degrees colder. Although we generally keep track of the tent temperature out of interest, we keep very close attention when the baby is with us. Although he's past the stage at which body temperature regulation most difficult, we always keep track of the tent temperature and regulate his clothing/coverage accordingly. Depending on how he feels, he may even end up in one of our sleeping bags on cooler nights, as he did in mine the first night. It's nice, but I don't sleep quite as well since my positions are limited (I don't want to squash him).

The next morning, we headed a few miles back to West Glacier to pick up some sandwich food for lunch, as well as few other supplies in the Apgar area. One of the items I was getting was a spool of nylon cord. I wanted to attach my slope meter to my pack for easy use on steep pitches, but I also needed the cord to attach Tyler's pacifier to his carrier. We wanted to make sure we weren't going to lose this priceless article out in the middle of some snowfield. When I can, I'll try to bring up some of the other interesting things we had to deal with when it came to backcountry skiing with an infant. I'm sure there are other parents out there (or future parents) that might be interested in this topic as well, so I'll mention things we've discovered along the way.

After gathering our new equipment, we headed back up the road to Logan Pass. No matter how many times I head into the park, the vistas still stand out as extraordinary. As you approach the pass, the surrounding mountains with 5,000-6,000 feet of vertical relief are stunning. With all honesty, a convertible vehicle is a huge benefit here because many of your views are out the TOP of your car. E and I laughed at one point as we were on the road along McDonald Creek (~3,300') looking up at the slopes of Mt. Cannon (8,952'). Looking out the front of our Subaru, we couldn't even see the top of the peak. Maybe I could if I jammed my head between the dash and the windshield, but that's about it. It's no wonder that the famous "Red Jammer" Busses that are used to give tours of the park are convertibles. Another stunning sight was Heaven's Peak (8,987) to the west. It always seems to have a ton of snow, and it's a good thing I wasn't driving when I looked or I might have gone off the road. There must have been over 3,000 vertical feet of skiable snow. If one could work out the logistics of finding a way over there, and then finding a skiable line, it would be quite a ride. My friend Jon said he knew some people who had hiked it (not skied as I recall) but it's not near the road and access is difficult.

It was impossible to gauge how much snow would be at the pass based on the views from the lower part of the road. We'd never been to the park this early, but aside from the massive amount of snow on Heaven's Peak, things didn't look all that different. Even after we passed the famous "Loop" section of the road and approached the Weeping Wall, things still looked the same. We did notice a lot of people stopped along the road looking up at something, and soon saw that they were looking up at some skiers hiking up a drainage to the east of Haystack Butte. The only snow we could see from this point was a bunch of undermined stuff, covering the local stream with a sign warning of "Unstable Snow, Keep Off". The people we saw were hiking on firm ground to the right of this area, already a couple hundred vertical above the road. We had to assume they knew where they were going and that there must be some great skiing up there. As we finally approached the pass, we could tell that the snow was deeper than we'd ever seen. One lookout point just before the pass (a common place that mountain goats like to hang out) still had over 5 feet of snow. I'd never really been to the park early enough to see any snow there. About a half mile later at the top of the pass, the snow was about 10 feet deep, but fortunately the parking lot to the visitor center was plowed out. It was sort of strange to be in a nice paved, dry parking lot amidst all the deep snow.

Next, it was time to figure out how we were going to carry our gear. Since this was the first time backcountry skiing with Tyler, we knew it was going to be a learning process. We decided that E would carry Tyler in the child carrier, which was probably the more desirable job. We bought one of those Kelty Carriers a while back, and since it is so new, it has all these features that our regular packs don't even have. Most importantly, it has a sun/rain hood for the baby.

The sun was one of our biggest concerns on this trip. Hanging out on snowfields at 7,000-8,000 feet on a bright sunny day, only a couple of weeks from the summer solstice, was a recipe for a lot of exposure. Although we have special sunscreen for babies, E has generally refrained from using it because it's not been tested for children less than 6 months of age. A previous test of this sunscreen indicated no adverse reactions for Tyler, so we decided that we would go for it today. Sunscreen, combined with a wide-brimmed hat (E's usual method of baby sun protection) as well as the carrier's hood would give him the best sun protection we could provide. The only remaining concern was his eyes. We didn't have sunglasses for him (not that he would keep them on anyway) so we had to just keep the hat low and hope he didn't stare out at the snow too much. As previously mentioned, one other concern was his temperature, but since it was a bright sunny day with temperatures around 60 F, his usual layers would be fine.

Aside from Tyler and the carrier, E's only other major load would be her ski boots. Fortunately, the model of carrier we bought (Pinnacle) has extensive extra space for additional materials (~2000 cubic inches). We knew we would need this for a multi-day backpacking trip that we're planning for July in Utah. There's now way I'd be able to carry all the gear for the three of us on a multi day trip, storage on the carrier will be the only option. Her ski boots fit easily into one of the extra compartments, so we looked to be in good shape. It was my job to carry both pairs of skis, as well as my ski boots. I wasn't too psyched for this chore, but after consulting with a few other skiers in the parking lot, we decided to forego the hiking boots and just wear our ski boots for the entire trip. Snow started right at the edge of the parking lot, and hiking on snow with alpine boots was easy (and actually more stable than in many other kinds of boots). We were both thankful to drop a little weight.

Although we'd been to Logan Pass a number of times, we'd never been with this much snow, and never actually had the chance to ski. We knew that at a minimum, we could ski the broad beginner slopes of the area called "Hanging Gardens". This area is about 1-2 miles deep and 1-2 miles wide. It rises up from pass level (6,880') to maybe 7,300' or so, before the slopes become steeper. A stream runs down from Hidden Lake Pass (~7,120') through a low point in the middle of Hanging Gardens, which was mostly frozen or snow covered at this point. Above Hanging Gardens however, the ski options were a big mystery.

As we passed through the visitor center area, people were amazed by the guy with two pairs of skis on his back and the woman with a baby on her back. We weren't actually all that out of place, as there were dozens of other skiers in the area, but I think the few minutes I had to wait with Tyler and the carrier while E used the restroom, drew extra attention from the tourists. When E returned, one guy even asked us to pose for a picture. I have to think he wasn't from ski country.

The hike up the Hanging Gardens snowfield went very smoothly. E had readjusted the skis for me with the help of an extra carabiner. With little of substance in my non-frame pack (i.e. no ski boots) it didn't have a lot of structural integrity. The new setup in the form of an X worked well, and I was able to follow her up the slope. Tyler seemed to be having a blast, with blah, blah, blah talk and lots of looking around. We were ever conscious of the sun angle, but fortunately it was very high at this midday hour, and he was well shielded.

There are a series of shelves that rise up as you hike out on the snowfield, and we chose one near the top (~7,200') to have lunch and assess our ski options. The snowfield in the Hanging Gardens area seems to be a very safe environment for even inexperienced snow travelers. Since it is so long and flat, there is little if any concern about falling debris from the steeper slopes above, and undermining of the snow doesn't seem to be a problem. We even saw one family dressed in fairly casual gear heading up with their sleds for some snow sliding fun. For anyone that is unfamiliar with snow conditions and wants to get their feet wet, the access and safety of this area make it very appealing. It's much like visiting the bottom of the bowl at Tuckerman Ravine, without any hike, and without the danger of falling rocks, ice, and skiers from above.

I thought that steep skiing options might be limited above the snowfield, but this is totally not the case. Starting from the far looker's right, I could see a huge snowfield below Mt. Oberlin (8,180') with lots of tracks, as well as a couple of skiers on it. It seemed to offer at least 800' of vertical at probably 35 degrees of pitch or more. It was out beyond some cliffs, and I couldn't quite tell what the access was like, but obviously people were skiing. Moving left, I could see a couple of steep couloirs on the slopes of Clements Mountain. The first looked sick. It was maybe 30 or 40 feet wide, with what looked like a 40-foot cornice at the top. I couldn't tell how steep it was, but it was sick looking enough that I wondered if anyone skied it. The shot next to it was a bit wider, although perhaps just as steep. It didn't have the huge cornice, and there was even a guy hiking his way up the thing. That was about it for the main options on Clements Mountain it seemed, most of the rest was just sheer rock (on the side I could see). Moving left some more we came to the area of Hidden Lake Pass. There were some fairly steep open slopes in this area, maybe offering 500 vertical or so. Some snowboarders had set up a backcountry kicker in this area and were launching themselves off it. Moving on, I could see what appeared to be a shoulder of Reynolds Mountain maybe a mile long. It had a lot of options. There was a nice snowfield along the close edge that looked attractive, then some treed areas that also looked fun. Next, there was a huge bowl-shaped area with a bunch of steep options, one that looked to be over 1,000' of vertical towards the far end. I was intrigued by a chute at the close end of the bowl. I couldn't tell quite how steep it was, but something made me want to ski it. It just looked good. Below Reynolds Mountain proper, there was once again the issue of simply sheer rock, but there may be some lines that people ski. It just seemed that a lot of the snow ended in cliffs. To the left of Reynolds Mountain, at the far end of the Hanging Garden, there also appeared to be some gentler snowfields for skiing. These probably meant the longest hike though.

After lunch, I convinced E that we should go check out the chute that intrigued me. I had thought of doing a couple warm up runs on the slopes at the top of the Hanging Gardens Snowfield, but due to the time, we decided to move on. The hike over towards the shoulder of Reynolds Mountain was generally not a huge elevation gain, but we did have to traverse steeper slopes in a couple of areas. The steepest slope I measured on the traverse over was 32 degrees just above us. Although it was a bit steeper below (maybe 35) the pitch only lasted for about 40 feet before it flattened out nicely into the Hanging Gardens. Still, with Tyler on her back, E was very cautious with her steps. All told, the traverse took about 30 minutes, and we settled in at a nice treed spot below our desired run. The elevation was around 7,400'.

It was time to feed Tyler, so E took care of that while I prepared to hike up. Now that I was right below the chute, I could get a good sense of it. It was about 500 feet high, 40-50 feet wide at the throat, and I guessed a pitch of maybe 35 degrees. The plan for video was that E would be shooting from the bottom, and I would be getting head cam footage on the way down. Just before I started my hike, a snowboarder came down the chute. I believe she had hiked up along the ridge instead of the chute itself, but seemed to have no issues with riding the chute. I had seen no sign of slides, icefall, or crevasses all day, so it seemed that the snow here was generally safe. The closest thing I saw to dangerous snow conditions were a few areas close to the rock walls of the chute that had melted out early. During my hike, I stayed clear of this snow, peering down to see that the melt out had only gone down a couple of feet.

I had to form my own boot ladder from our place at the bottom of the chute, but the beautiful corn snow made it easy. I checked slope angles with my new slope meter, which was incredibly easy. I just laid my pole down like the directions indicated, and took the angle. After about 100 vertical feet of hiking, I got a reading of 35 degrees, followed a few minutes later by a reading of 38 degrees. As I entered the throat of the chute, I got a reading of 42 degrees, and finally a slope of 45 degrees at the steepest part a bit higher than that. From there, it began to mellow out back to essentially flat ground. I couldn't believe that it was actually 45 degrees; it certainly didn't feel that steep. I'm not sure if this was because I was making my own steps or what, but I never even started to use my hands for climbing. Generally, on slopes of 45 degrees or so, I've found I begin to use my hands.

I forgot to take an elevation reading at the top, but the topographic map says it was around 7,800', suggesting a vertical of around 400'. While at the top, I could hear, but not see, two other guys taking about the snow on the ridge. They sounded very surprised at how good the coverage was (for whatever run they were going to do). My own run had perfect coverage, and the appearance of a golf ball. It started out shallow for about 20 or 30 feet, then bam! It rolled over very quickly into what looked like oblivion. I could see E far below me, ready for video. After getting a few shots from the top, I turned on the head cam, and I was off. The corn snow was smooth, and not sticky, but it had been so long since I'd skied good corn, I'd almost forgotten what it was like. My skis bit in well, and I able to carve some big sweeping arcs through the wide chute. As I approached the spot where E was located, the pitch lessened and I was able to pick up the pace a little more. When I finally reached E, we switched roles. However, she was worried about Tyler getting colder as the day wore on, so she decided to hike about 1/4 of the way up the chute, then ski the slopes below which provided some nice blue/black terrain for a few hundred more vertical.

My job was to get Tyler down, and the easiest way to do that was to ski. I didn't feel comfortable skiing anything with pitch with an infant on my back, but fortunately they were plenty of green options as we worked our way back to the Hanging Gardens. I simply took the easy traverses and filmed with the camera, while E got in some good skiing on the steeper pitches. Soon, we found ourselves in the streambed that bisected the Hanging Gardens, and it was a generally flat traverse back to the visitor center. The snow in these flatter sections was unfortunately stickier, and sun cupped. So although the trip back to the car was flat, and even generally downhill, we had to pole along most of the way. Still, it beat having to carry skis.

Once back at the car, we still had to set up a few more shots for the video, mostly car-related stuff that we hadn't had the chance to shoot on the way in. We also got to have a fairly close encounter with some of the mountain goats, who decided that with all the deep snow, the road was the easiest way to get around at times. When we'd finally got the shots we needed, it was back to the Sprague Creek Campground.

We were glad we'd left our tent and registered for another night, because by the time we got back, the campground was full. I'd managed to get some dry firewood at the Lake McDonald Lodge complex, and dinner for the evening was burgers over an open fire. Interestingly, some folks with a VT license plate were now occupying the site across from us, so we went over to chat. It turns out some of them were recent grads of UVM, moving out to Seattle. Sometimes I wished we didn't have to give up our VT plates for MT plates, because we would often be greeted by people when they saw the good ol' green plates on our car. It's common around here to see folks from Vermont, probably due to the similar lifestyle. The next morning, we stopped at the West Glacier Restaurant for breakfast. I'd passed by it many times, and wanted to see what it was like. It was fun to have breakfast and listen to the talk of the dozen or so park rangers at the table next to us.

My overall impression of the skiing at Logan Pass is that you can get an incredible variety of spring skiing with just about the easiest access you could hope for. I still can't figure out why this place isn't more popular. Even though there were a few dozen other skiers in the area when we were there (on a prefect blue sky day for spring skiing), it was far less than I would have thought. Hopefully this report will serve as a good source for people interested in taking a trip to ski the Logan Pass area, there's plenty of terrain to keep everyone happy.