Gunsight Pass trail, a 20-mile trek from Jackson Glacier Overlook to Lake McDonald Lodge in Glacier National Park, has long been on my bucket list.  

After three failed attempts, and with the inspiration, toughness and humor of my daughter, Jennie, it is finally done. 

The beauty was beyond anything I have ever seen at GNP, and over the past few decades, I have covered hundreds of miles at this million-acre, magical place tucked away in the northwest corner of Montana. But what I saw on this trail running adventure literally made me stop running and stare in wonder. At one point, as we approached Gunsight Lake, under blue skies and sunshine, I turned to Jennie and said, “Can you believe this? This is crazy. Wow.” 

It was a treasure of mountain peaks, meadows, streams, rivers, waterfalls and wildflowers, nearly devoid of people. It seemed every time we rounded a turn, we were greeted with yet another stunning scene, new terrain to navigate. 

It was perhaps the greatest adventure of my life. 

But it was not easy. 

Jennie and I did what several referred to as going all the way through. Most following the Gunsight Pass route stay at Sperry Chalet or camp at Gunsight Lake or Lake Ellen Wilson, stopping points along the way. Most have walking sticks, are outfitted with full hiking gear and have large backpacks. They take two or three days to complete it.

For us, it was to be done in hours. 

We wore running shorts, tank tops, caps, water packs and fanny packs with energy bars, powders, fruit snacks and trail mix. The few that we passed referred to us as “trail runners,” as if it was a sighting of rare creatures. 

The trail is far from clear. At times, you could not see it, so thick was the shoulder-high brush we had to pass through. I yelled often, to alert bears to our presence and avoid a surprise encounter that would end badly for us. It was a minefield of rocks and roots, many hidden. Miraculously, I only fell once and came away with a bloodied knee, which I considered a rite of passage and proudly displayed the rest of the way.

Over nearly eight hours, we: 

• Conquered Gunsight Pass and Lincoln Pass and nearly 4,000 feet of elevation.   

• Made our way slowly along narrow, rocky cliffs where one misstep would send you plunging a long way down. I stumbled a few times, which prompted my daughter to urge me to be careful as she reached out to grab me. I assured her I was fine and to stop worrying, but I don't think she did.

• Were on full alert, bear spray in hand, for a black bear that oncoming hikers warned us was about 200 yards ahead and to our left, just off the trail in a wooded, brushy area, minding its own business. We were disappointed that we didn’t see it.

• Came face to face with a wide snowfield, which for the first time made me wonder what we had gotten ourselves into. This was beyond mere trail running. We crossed by digging in with fingertips and shoe edges and inching our way to the other side. Had we slipped, we could have slid a hundred yards or so to a crash landing.

• Crossed a wide stream at the base of a waterfall, with no rocks to hop our way over, by crawling on all fours. We were wet, but safe.

• Grew weary as we finally crested Gunsight Pass and wondered if we were going the right way as we looked down at a series of switchbacks that seemed to lead nowhere. I insisted there was no other trail, there was no other way. This was the only way and we had to follow it. We could not go back. For once, I was right.

• Came upon a mountain goat with menacing horns a few yards off our trail that stared us down as if to say, “Keep running and I’ll let you pass. If you stop to take pictures, I’ll charge you.” We kept running. 

It was glorious.

When we reached Sperry Chalet, after 14 miles, we stopped for the pie I had heard so much about from my friend, Don. It was as good as advertised and the view was breathtaking. I will forever remember sitting on the chalet's back steps, eating pie, looking at surrounding mountains and joking with my daughter about what we had gone through. It was a good break to refuel for the final assault.

Surprisingly, as if we sensed victory was ours and we were really going to pull this off, we gained strength, felt lighter, faster and ran harder the final miles. We were leaping, whooping and hollering as we went, much to the annoyance and amusement of a few hikers headed the opposite way who likely were sure something was wrong with us. 

Perhaps there was.

After all, we had just covered the Gunsight Pass trail that takes on average more than 10 hours to complete in 7 hours and 54 minutes. That might not sound like fun to most, but to me and Jennie, it was the best of times. 

As far I was concerned, it was as close to heaven as one can get on Earth.

We can't wait to do it all again.

But maybe without the snowfield.

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Bill Buley is assistant managing editor of The Press. He can be reached at [email protected].

    Bill Buley