GLACIER NATIONAL PARK, MONTANA
I cannot tell you how much I loved Chief Mountain, which easily makes my list of Top 3 Best Hikes in Glacier National Park.
Even crazier: I didn't even get to finish the hike (hello, disappointment), but loved the fact that every part of this hike was an adventure. Check it out...
How I discovered Chief Mountain
When I go somewhere new, I use AllTrails to find good hikes.
I start with hikes that have the most reviews with at least 4 stars. This usually works out great because if the hike is truly epic, a lot of people will do it and there will be a lot of great reviews. But sometimes it gives you super boring hikes that get a lot of reviews simply because they are easy to do and easy to get to. Boo to those hikes.
Then I look at hikes rated "difficult" with at least 4 stars, regardless of the number of reviews. This is where you find the interesting stuff! Because of this, I've "discovered" places that are so untraveled, there is no path. Where I've scrambled over rocks and climbed under, over, and around piles of trees clogging up dried creek beds. Places where I never saw another person the entire time. These are the most epic hikes.
That is how I found Chief Mountain on AllTrails. With just 20 reviews giving it 4.5 stars and a difficult rating, I had to do it. The mountain is located on the northeast side of Glacier National Park, less than 10 miles from the Canadian border, and just 30 minutes from where I was staying in Babb. And everything about it was an adventure.
Getting to Chief Mountain Is An Adventure
There were a few things that created some angst for me on the day I hiked Chief Mountain.
1) The Tire Situation
To understand the adventure of getting to Chief Mountain, you first need to know that my tire pressure warning light had come on a couple days before. My tires still had good tread, but also, my car was pushing 35,000 miles by this point and getting pretty familiar with rough roads, so I was concerned about whether my tires would last the final two weeks of my adventure before I needed to replace them.
I needed to find a place to air up my tires, so last night I drove to Babb, a couple miles south of my Airbnb. The gas station did not have an air compressor and the guy at the tiny little general store suggested I drive to St. Mary, another 8 miles down the road. The gas station there also did not have an air compressor and suggested I drive to Browning, another 30 miles down the road.
I finally found a gas station with an air compressor, but it didn't have a gauge on it. Fortunately (maybe not in retrospect) there was a man using the air compressor on his tires. I asked how he knew how much to put in and he said, "Ah, I just sort of eyeball it," and then offered to air my tires up as well.
My one (major) complaint about my 2018 Toyota Highlander is that, when your tire pressure is off, you simply get a warning light on your dashboard - an orange exclamation point in the middle of a triangle. This is NOT very helpful at all. First, you have to get the user manual out of the glove box to figure out what the heck this little error message represents. And then, once you know your tire pressure is off, that's all you know. It doesn't tell you which tire. And it doesn't tell you what the pressure actually is. Boo to Toyota for this.
So, the guy eyeballed which tire was low and put some air in it. Did that work? Nope, warning light is still on. How about this one? Nope. Front right? Warning light still on. I guess it's the fourth tire then. Yep, fourth time is a charm. The light went off. That should have been my first (and second and third) red flag. But the light was off. I gave him $10 for his trouble and drove back to my house.
82 miles roundtrip to put air in my tires. Did I mention I was staying in a VERY remote location??
The next day, I left the house to hike Chief Mountain. The warning light was back on. Great. Taking a cue from the guy yesterday, I too eyeballed the situation and didn't see any tires that were noticeably low. I figured I had a slow leak and would be safe to drive out to Chief Mountain and back, just 32 miles roundtrip. Hey, I learned from the best.
2) The Road to Chief Mountain
The road to Chief Mountain was great. Until it wasn't.
Everything was paved highway until Google maps tells you to turn onto a dirt road, rocky and pitted with huge muddy potholes, full of water from rain the previous days. The road climbed and climbed and climbed with at least 13 switchbacks that I can see on Google maps now that I'm looking at it back at home. There was water running over part of the road and thank God my car (and tires) made it through.
I tried skirting around some of the bigger potholes, pulling as far to the right or left of the two tire-track paths as I could, the tree branches screeching along the side of my car like nails on a chalkboard. Turned out to be a rather expensive drive up this road because the scratches that didn't buff out ended up costing me a several hundred dollars on my trade-in. Bummer.
To top it off, it was hard to see because the sun was getting low in the sky and, as it filtered through the trees, had a strobe light effect on the windshield that was covered with bug spit I collected on the last bit of highway before this dirt road.
The last 3.5 miles on this dirt road took a full 30-minutes to drive, but I made it ... and had the entire "parking lot" to myself, as expected! I was nervous about driving this road back, praying I wouldn't get stuck and praying that I wouldn't get a flat tire on the way back. I decided I needed to be back in my car by dusk at 7:00 pm to make sure I would still have light while I drove home.
3) The Time Crunch
I've been working east coast hours on mountain time, which has worked out GREAT! Every day, I am laser focused on getting the most important things done early so I can leave the house by 3:00 pm (5:00 pm east coast time). That still gives me a good 4-5 hours of daylight each evening to squeeze in a hike, which has been awesome!
The Chief Mountain hike, however, is supposed to take 4.5 hours, according to AllTrails. Usually, I beat AllTrails' estimated time, so I calculated 4 hours + 30 mins to spare. If I started at 3:00, I'd be back to the car by 7 or 7:30 (dusk) and home by 8:00 (dark). So I left work a little early and arrived at the trailhead by 3:00. Let's get hiking!
Hiking Chief Mountain Is An Adventure
Chief Mountain is located on the eastern-most border of Glacier National Park, adjacent to the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. Standing at 9,080' tall, Chief Mountain is a lone distinctive mountain, jutting 5,000' above the surrounding plains and can be seen as far as 100 miles away.
The mountain is considered sacred by Native Americans, with creation stories of the Blackfeet linked to it. Natives from all over North America travel to the base of the mountain for sweet grass ceremonies, where they place prayer flags. There are oral traditions that a Great White God would appear from the top of Chief Mountain, and upon his departure, the mountain would crumble and be destroyed.
I was nervous about whether I should be hiking the mountain because of its sacred history. I searched for anything I could find online and finally found the phone number for a ranger associated with the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. I called to confirm that it was ok for me to hike the mountain and that I indeed did not need a permit. I felt much better after this conversation.
The hike started just as I read. Prayer flags knotted to tree limbs lined the first part of the path that wove through a heavily wooded area. From there, the path opens to an unobstructed tree-framed view of Chief Mountain.
I still can't believe you can hike to the top of that mountain. It looks insanely steep!
I used AllTrails to guide my path and wow, I can tell not many people have done this hike. The app would often take me where there was no trail or to an area that was completely overgrown with brush. But it served as a general guide to circle me around to the back of the mountain that had a hike-able slope, contrasted to the steep face you see in the picture above that would require actual climbing skills.
Here's a video that highlights my climb, my dilemma, and my retreat from Chief Mountain.
The first thing to know about this day is that it was INSANELY windy. I took several videos along the way to provide commentary. When I watched them later, I couldn't even make out what I was saying because the roaring wind drowned out my voice.
After hiking through the trees and then over wide open plains, I came to a rock field on the back side of the mountain. It took me a LONG time to traverse this field.
The rocks varied in size from small, say the size of a basketball, to enormous like the one in the picture below that is easily the size of a bedroom - I know because it was WAY taller and wider than my 5'9" self.
I knew with certainty I wouldn't see another soul on this trail today, probably not even this week. So my primary focus was on safety. It's one thing to walk across a field of rocks that shift under your feet. But it's another thing entirely to traverse a boulder field, where rocks vary in size from a microwave to a large recliner ... and occasionally MOVE when you step on them. YIKES!!
I was overly cautious about testing the stability of large rocks before stepping on them, to prevent another rock, balanced on or against it, from tumbling down on me. That's how you get stuck in the wilderness for 127 Hours, sawing your leg or arm off. I was also VERY careful to not drop my phone (aka my lifeline for navigating back to my car) where it could easily tumble into the large crevices between the rocks.
After crossing the boulder field, you come to a scree field. This is a collection of broken rock fragments that have weathered off the side of a mountain. You have to climb this steep slope of loose rocks to reach the hard rock of what's left of the mountain. And it's exhausting.
Because the rock is loose and on a steep slope, for each step you take up, you slide back half a step. It's like climbing an icy sidewalk on the side of a hill.
I climbed. And climbed. And climbed. After 30 minutes of climbing scree, I was running out of time. I decided I would turn around at 5:00 - that would be two hours in and give me two hours back to the car. At 5:00 I still had an eternity to go, but was about 3/4 the way up the scree field.
I didn't want to give up! But also, I didn't want to hike back in the dark. And I was worried about driving back down that road in the dark, let alone getting stuck or getting a flat in the dark. Then I realized, it will take me less time to go down than it took to go up. So I decided to hike until 5:15.
Even so, I never quite made it to the top of the scree field. I was sooooo bummed to turn around. I sat there on a big rock jutting out from the scree, trying to figure out how I could make this work, having no idea how long the rest of the hike would take and being nervous about beating the dark.
And so I just sat there, beaten by the mountain, battered by the wind, soaking up the incredible view before me, watching the sun sink behind the mountains.
I realized then why it was called Chief Mountain. This mountain is *definitely* The Chief and you only get to the top if The Chief says you'll get to the top.
Or if you start your hike early in the morning instead of late afternoon.
I knew then I'd have to come back to Montana for the sole purpose of climbing this stupid mountain. And even though I didn't finish the hike (yet), it is hands down one of my favorite experiences on my entire Wild West Adventure. To climb this mountain is to master grit and humility and pride all at once. And now I have to return so I can experience this.
One last picture with The Chief ...
By the end of the hike, I was tired from the wind and the focus and the disappointment (and turns out, also the elevation gain). So today, I have to share one more favorite view I saw along the trail...
Chief Mountain, you are wonderful. Happy trails, until we meet again.
Total miles = 6.54
Total elevation gain = 2,687'
Peak elevation = 8,326'
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