THIS PAST SUMMER, my husband Jorge and I undertook an epic Western road trip. We went to the Badlands and Yellowstone, both of which were phenomenal and delivered on the Western promise of sublime wilderness, but it was Glacier that captured us.
We spent two full weeks of our month on the road in its campgrounds, on its trails, in perpetual fear of its grizzlies. By 2020, park brochures warned us, all of the park’s glaciers will have melted. We felt we’d gotten there in the nick of time, although the pleasure of having seen these landscapes before they’re destroyed is a vain one indeed. We were reminded in Glacier’s mountains of how small and fleeting we are, and also how terribly significant.
Text by Sarah Menkedick, photos by Jorge Santiago.