Glacier National Park: The Pompus Park

It was my first day in glacier and I was roaring and ready to get started; you could tell because my head leaped off my pillow like a narcoleptic sloth at the early hour of 1pm.

Despite my late start I had a absolutely wonderful day, largely thanks to the absolutely wonderful landscape of the park. I spent the afternoon making the long drive up the famous Going-To-Sun road, flirting with the reaper every time my hands made a 3° shift on my steering wheel. But I was awarded for my treacherous journey by arriving at Logan's Pass, given a 3 hour parking limit, and setting off to an alpine lake.

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The lake: Beautiful. The mountains: Beautiful. The trees and native plant life: Beautiful. The two baby mountain goats I saw 3 feet ahead of me on the trail: Irksome roadblocks that made me think I was going to violate my 3 hour parking limit.

After my hike down and back up from the frigid ice bath the people of Montana call a lake, I made my way back down Going-To-Sun road. I found myself smiling with glee at the expressions of terror on the uphill driver's faces, knowing I was safely protected from the 500ft sheer drop with a nice thick blanket of asphalt and a giant metal barricade in the shape of a Subaru Forrester carrying a family of 4.

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On the way down, I stopped at a random viewpoint. I was surprised to find the rushing river calmed for a moment, trapped by its own snaking curveature, making quite the nice swimming hole.

And when I say 'quite nice' I mean the most beautiful water feature I have ever waded in. I think this exact spot is what every Great Wolf Lodge and neighborhood pool with polystyrene rocks drew inspiration from. It felt like heaven, and it almost was, because the beauty was so enrapturing to me that I almost didn't notice my internal body temperature drop to degrees equal to that of Argentina's final's score count.

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And much like the Great Wolf Lodge, my watering hole was happy to host any number of families, couples, theater troupes, or even black bears! There was one not 100 yards downstream chewing on freshly fished fish, unbothered by the gawking gaggle forming on the ridge line.

From there it was a trip down to yet other lake front with yet another beautiful view of yet more towering mountain tops, like seriously Montana, get over yourself. Feeling angered by this lake's ego I attempted to harm it by hurling rocks along it's surface, but they seemed to bounce right off.

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I retired to my campsite, cuddled into the van, and felt thankful that at least in the confines of the Chrysler engineering, I was safe from the pompous views of Glacier National Park.

TLDR: I was walking a random trail near the lodge, and made prolonged eye contact with an individual, who rightly stopped to inquire of my mean mugging. Only for himself to recognize me as a fellow Lake Travis Graduate, telling me that the park ranger stationed at the entrance also went to high school facing the grueling long journeys to Africa, China, and whatever we called the one by the Ag Building.