When looking out at Heavens Peak from The Loop on the Going-to-the-Sun Road, one can’t help but feel a sense of awe and mystique. 

While Heavens certainly isn’t the most prominent peak in Glacier National Park, it holds a sense of isolation and uncertainty. It’s frequently shrouded in fog, encompassed by almost impassible alder and devil's club on all sides. Heavens meta-sedimentary smooth stone slabs extend to the heavens, and its snow fields never quite melt out.

We recently obtained a permit for Arrow Lake, a remote backcountry campsite at the base of Heavens Peak. Our plan was to hike in, stay the night, climb the mountain the following morning then head out the next day. We took the Howe Ridge Trail, leading from the head of Lake McDonald winding itself around the base of Stanton Mountain, depositing you in the West Lakes Valley.

The West Lakes Valley, which includes a chain of lakes (Rogers, Trout, Arrow, Camas, Evangeline and Ruger) is known to hold the highest concentration of grizzly bears in the entire Northern Continental Divide Ecosystem. 

That evening, climbing partner Stimson Dolesh and I did some fishing and caught a few decent sized cutthroat trout, and we were blessed to have the whole place to ourselves.

The second morning of our trip, we awoke early. An ethereal fog hung over the lake, dew drops clung to the sedges. The sun had not yet risen over Heavens' ridge. Luckily for us the thimbleberry that lines the entire trail from Arrow to Camas lake wasn’t wet.

We forded Camas Creek, reaching the base of an avalanche chute at 10:30 a.m. There are at least four routes up Heaven’s Peak: an avalanche chute from Arrow Lake, the Glacier Wall route, the most customary route from Packer’s Roost up McDonald Creek, or the least known route, the Heavens Traverse from Stanton to Heavens, which requires a significant amount of mountaineering experience.    

After a slow and strenuous ascent, we had at last topped out on the Heavens ridge. Dolesh remarked on how few people are fortunate enough to witness The Loop from this angle; famous photos of Heavens have always been taken from the road. 

From there, we traversed across the renown slabs and navigated a few minor cliff bands to reach the summit.

From the top looking west, McPartland Mountain cuts the sky like a gemstone as it appears an arm’s reach away from Heavens summit. To the east, Mount Cannon warded off clouds with its broad shoulders, shielding our view of Logan Pass. We located the summit registry – a classic red Freedom Bank water bottle. According to the logbook, we were the first ascent of 2025.

We ran down a significant portion of the ridge, reaching the top of the avalanche chute at 1:30 p.m. It was here that we would make our biggest decision of the day, whether or not to go 4 miles out of our way to see the architectural masterpiece: Heavens Peak fire lookout.

The lookout was constructed in 1945 by the Civilian Public Service, members of which were Mennonites, Amish, Hutterites, Quakers, and Jehovah’s Witnesses, among others. These members were conscientious objectors to World War II, and made several other significant contributions to Glacier Park, including firefighting and trail building. 

Complete with its rich history, we had to oblige to the challenge. On tired legs, we trekked across the Heavens ridge to reach the lookout late in the afternoon. 

The lookout is withered and worn, yet it stands the test of time. As you approach the lookout, the wind on the ridge seems to fade away. Time itself seems to stop. We climbed the stone steps of the lichen covered foundation, made from the mountain’s own rocks. Looking out from the four sides, one obtains unobstructed views of all corners of the park. Lake Evangeline’s cold dark eyes stare back up at you as you gaze into the West Lakes Valley below.

The windows are boarded up to preserve the fairly recent renovations, which were completed in 2011 by a team of several descendants from the very same 1945 CPS crew, as well as Jack Polzin, National Park Service historical preservation expert. The project cost approximately $40,000 at the time. 

We reached camp, dropping off the peak the same way we came up, just before the sun ducked behind the mountains. Later that night, we awoke to the sight of stars and the Milky Way. Pulsating auroras illuminated Heavens Lookout in short sudden bursts. We could only imagine what it must have been like to be a lookout for those short eight years in history, when the lookout was manned.

Editor’s note: Climbing in Glacier has inherent risks and we do not recommend climbing alone. As always, leave no trace.