Free Glacier National Park by Mike Graf

it became windy. He worked hard as he fought the elevation gain and the gusty winds.
Just stay in rhythm, don’t push too hard
, he reminded himself. Dad lifted one of his arms to wipe the sweat that trickled down his forehead and into his eyes.
    As Dad pushed past the Siyeh parking area, he gazed ahead. The morning sunlight was lighting up the park’s high peaks. Dad recognized Clements Mountain, its snowfield that was once a glacier illuminated by the bright light. “I’m getting there!” he encouraged himself out loud. Then Dad glanced in the tiny mirror attached to his helmet. He noticed even more smoke billowing into the sky.
    • • •
    “It’s 8 AM ,” James announced. “Dad should be reaching the top soon.”
    Morgan, James, and Mom scrambled out of the tent.
    “Well, let’s start getting everything ready, then,” Mom said.
    Morgan began preparing pancakes, eggs, and bacon. She set up a cake with candles. James unrolled the banner they had stashed away under their suitcases and camping supplies.
    Soon their campsite was all ready for Dad’s birthday.
    After they were all set, Morgan turned the stove down and covered the food with foil. Mom came over and put her arm around Morgan. James joined them. The three of them surveyed their decorations. “You know, forty is a big milestone!” Mom said. “Dad will be thrilled.”
    • • •
    Dad climbed on. The road was cut into a rocky cliff; on his right the cliff towered above him, on his left it plunged below. Dad crossed a steel bridge and rode next to a pounding waterfall. He pedaled quickly through a dark tunnel. Logan Pass Visitor Center was just up the road.
    Dad gained momentum and pedaled with renewed energy.
Am I getting stronger
, he wondered,
or is the road just leveling out?
    Dad noticed a bighorn sheep walking on a cement barrier next to the road. He slowly rode by, trying to avoid eye contact with the noble but ominous-looking animal.
You don’t see that on too many bike rides
, he thought to himself.
    Then Dad rounded a bend. Two more bighorns stood in the middle of the road. He looked at them, gauging if he could ride past quickly while pedaling uphill.
    Dad decided he wasn’t fast enough to get by safely. He stopped and waited. A car on the other side of the sheep was also waiting. They noticed Dad. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say,
What else am I supposed to do?
    The bighorns looked at the car, then at Dad. They took a few panicked, erratic steps in random directions. Dad prepared himself to turn the bike around and flee. All of a sudden, without warning, the bighorns ran off the road and scampered up a hill.
    Dad took a deep breath and rode on, watching the bighorns above him as he pedaled past.
    Finally, he made it to the final pitch, sprinting up the last stretch to the visitor center parking lot. Dad pulled in just as a ranger was putting up a barricade on the road.

    Logan Pass Visitor Center’s parking lot was mostly empty. Near the bottom end were several ranger cars and fire trucks. Some of the firefighters were talking with each other. One was looking through binoculars to the east. Another spoke into a hand radio.
    Dad looked at the newly set up roadblock. A car pulled up to it from the west. The ranger stepped over to the driver as she rolled down her window. “The road is closed,” the ranger announced. “The fire has flared up and is running close to the highway. For now, everything east of here is shut down.”
    The driver backed up and turned around. Meanwhile Dad walked over to the ranger. “My family’s down there,” he informed him. “At Rising Sun.”
    “Not for long,” the man replied.
    • • •
    A ranger drove around the campground. She stopped at the Parkers’ site and quickly jogged over to Morgan, James, and Mom.
    “Hi, folks,” she greeted the family while looking at the decorations. “I’m sorry to break up the party, but we’re closing the whole area east of Logan Pass. The fires are