Wanderlust

A trip planned twice but never taken is a visit to Glacier National Park in Montana. It is located in the northwestern corner of Montana near the Canadian border. A swatch of the Rockies, Glacier Park is a wonderland of mountains, peaks, valleys and rocky ridges. Forests, too. And rivers. Lakes. Sweeping views up and down altitudes flatlanders can only wonder at.

The Road to the Sky is a feature of the park. It is a two-lane road that climbs, curves and swirls upward through dizzying heights and switchbacks. Seemingly toward the sky, the road is magical and one of our nation’s highest roadways normal drivers can manage.

Opposite altitudes are the valleys and plains. Surrounding the two entries to the park are Indian lands still occupied and controlled by tribes long ago moved by the white man. This is still their home, and they guard it with honor and commitment.

While getting to the park is long and arduous, it is worthy of our time and notice. This is America, central and spacious, empty of massive populations. This is a region of openness and perspective. Not just views, but space to consider surroundings as context of our being. Who are we? Where did we come from? Why are we here? Where do we go to from here? How does this space define us and purpose?

How can this place and distance not help us understand life’s size and consequence?

I have wanted to see this region for 50 years. As time continues its disappearing act, I wonder if this want will continue to be so. Or will I just wander down the road one day to visit this paradise of sky and rock?

We shall see. If it happens, you will surely know of it.

June 5, 2024

 

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