In the evening

The other day I went for this hike in Glacier National Park. The birds sang and the bugs weren't too bad and I had tremendous views of the McDonald Creek Valley to the west and the Garden Wall towered above me.

The hiking was easy and flat and I took my time, sucking it all in. I've started paying much more attention to birds lately and so I went slow. A warbler ducked into a bush. A winter wren sang from the edge of the trail and a thrush called over and over again from its perch in a dead whitebark pine.

Thing is, I had this whole place to myself. This place is not a secret. Hundreds, perhaps even a thousand hikers hit it every day. You can't blame them. It is one of the best hikes in the Park.

Yet I saw virtually no one, save a party in the first five minutes or so and a fit young couple about three miles out. Yes it was July. Yes it took about 10 minutes just to get into Glacier that day, the crowds were so thick at the entrance.

So how did I manage such solitude on a very busy day?

One word: Suppertime.

I started the hike at 7 p.m.

Visitors to Glacier don't like to miss supper, and if you really want to enjoy the place, one of the best ways to do it is work the ends of the days. Since I'm not a huge fan of getting up at 4:30 a.m., I like to work the other end of the day.

Eat an early supper, and head up to Logan Pass when every one else is going down.

I literally stood there in the parking lot and watched as a line of cars left.

I'm not sure why everyone leaves the pass about 7, I'm sure suppertime has something to do with it, but it can't be all about a meal. I mean, people are late for dinner all the time. I think there might be a little fear sprinkled in there as well.

The Sun Road can be sort of daunting in the dark - there is, of course, always the possibility of plummeting to your death as you miss a turn.

I think it also has something to do with the sort of people that visit parks. Many are older, and older folks seem to keep schedules. I'm not sure why, but I'm glad they do.

Because a bum like me, who is content to gnaw on a Haagen Daaz ice cream bar and call it a meal (it actually is pretty darn close to being a meal. I checked the label and one ice cream bar had something close to 28 grams of fat) can get a pretty cool place all to himself.

I went out about three miles, and ran into two mule deer does at Haystack Butte. They walked the trail all the way back to the Logan Pass parking lot to lick salt up left from the rigs on the pavement.

The wind picked up to a howl and the gibbous moon rose next to Mount Reynolds.

The lot was empty save for the few cars left behind by backpackers.

The mule deer, myself and the moon.

You just might call that a perfect evening.

Chris Peterson is the editor of the Hungry Horse News.