GTV First Loop: Holland Lake, Flathead National Forest

Mel here. From this trip’s inception, our biggest question mark was this:  Would we be able to backpack? (Would the van and our stuff be safe? Where would we leave it? How would we get to the trailhead? How would we get back? Would we even have room in the GTV for the backpacking equipment?)

I’m happy to report that within one week on the road we answered all of these questions to our great satisfaction. Let me explain. No, it would take too long—let me sum up:

From Lake Five Resort in West Glacier we scooted into Whitefish for Jeff’s birthday breakfast at the Buffalo Cafe. From there we took Rt. 83 south through some pretty country (including Swan Lake, which tickled me for no reason I can fathom) and into the Flathead National Forest. With mountains on both sides, there were a zillion places we could have pulled off for the night; we chose (Lower) Holland Lake, a few clicks to the east down a dirt road.

Flynn approves.

After setting up camp at Holland Lake Campground, we hiked a short out-and-back to the end of the lake and up a few hundred feet to a waterfall that (so we learned from the sketchy trailhead map) connects Upper with Lower Holland Lake.

Hey! That gives me an idea…

Over birthday dinner of Jeff’s famous pasta carbonara, a fine arugula salad and—of course—birthday cupcakes, we weighed the genius versus utter stupidity of heading into the woods on our first backpacking foray…on a whim and without a real map.

On one hand, no real beta on the trail, no guidebook description, lacking good map and in bear country. And, you know, general wussiness. On the other hand, we had stumbled upon our perfect imagined scenario—a nice, quiet campground with attentive campground host where we could pay to leave the van in a (we hoped) safe environment and walk just a quarter mile to a trailhead. A loop hike (which as previously mentioned, everyone loves a good one of). And, you know, adventure.

You can guess where this is going. (Note to moms—no bears were encountered, and we’re fine.)

The next morning, we packed up our backpacks, (wow, that was condensed for the amount of time it took us to find and sort out all our gear), paid the fee for the GTV to sleep at the campground for the night (safer than the trailhead lot, we figured), and set out.

First bit of luck—a couple at the trailhead with a guidebook!

Convinced now that the odds would be ever in our favor, we followed Jeff’s plan to take the harder trail in. (According to the guidebook, doing so changed the hike’s rating from “moderately strenuous” to “strenuous,” but never mind that. It was clearly the better way.)  Up, up, up we climbed with Upper Holland Lake our intended destination. Looking at the pilfered guidebook photo above, it’s the non-highlighted switchback-laden route (or, reading the graph from right to left, up 3,600 feet to Sapphire Lakes, and then back down about 1,200 or so). With packs.

Grueling but gorgeous, with a somewhat arid climate and a few wildflowers still hanging around to greet us, we loved (almost) every minute of the hike. And yet, when the deep blue of alpine Sapphire Lakes greeted us, we couldn't help but call it a day.

In part, we were unable to resist the lake, the great campsite we found and the valley view from our soon-to-be dinner spot.

In part, we forgot the Advil and knew that I for one needed to like the heck down. Mr. Action, on the other hand, scrambled up part of yet another peak to see what he could see.

The next morning we drank coffee, packed up our gear, donned our boots and packs (“Oy, my hips!” “Your hips? My shoulders!” “Your shoulders? My feet!”) and tromped down to Upper Holland Lake. Pretty, but not as picturesque as the Sapphires IMHO.

Then down, down, down, down to Lower Holland, where our beloved GTV awaited, poised to carry us to a well-deserved and well-poured microbrew, a meal cooked by someone else over neither propane nor camp fire, and sleep in a real-for-real stationary bed. What you got, Missoula?

Days’ lesson:  “Oh, I wish I hadn't put on my backpack and taken that hard trail up to that gorgeous spot for the night,” said nobody, ever.