There is a moment, about twelve minutes out of Golden, when the clearcuts stop and the country goes vertical, and whatever you were thinking about in the staging lot does not survive it. I have made that flight with a drone case wedged between my knees and my heart in my throat, twice, once to each of the two lodges this piece is about. The landing is the same both times: the machine banks, a roofline appears in country that has no business containing architecture, and you are delivered into a week that runs on snow, weather and appetite rather than any clock you brought with you.
Purcell Mountain Lodge and Mistaya Lodge both stage out of Golden, both run on fixed changeover flights with all meals and guiding included, and both close in the shoulder seasons when neither snow nor trail can be relied on. Choosing between them is really a choice between kinds of country. I shot a film at each, and I will try to be fair to both.
Purcell: the meadow
Purcell is the sociable one. Three storeys of timber on an alpine bench at the edge of Glacier National Park, ten rooms upstairs, and a separate two-bedroom chalet that can be taken self-catered.
The helicopter is the least important part of the week. It is forty minutes of noise buying you seven days of silence.
Meadow first, which is why I recommend it
The terrain starts gentle in every direction, which makes this the one I send people to for a first backcountry trip. You can learn to skin and to snowshoe without committing to anything you cannot reverse.
It rises to forty-degree lines and multi-summit days of up to two thousand vertical metres for parties who want them, and both guided and self-guided weeks run, which is rare in this category. The snow here comes deep and stays cold.
Alone on the bench
Some nights the sky joins in. There is nothing on the horizon to compete with it and no road to bring headlights.
The lodge and its chalet from above, with the ranges stacked behind. The nearest building of any kind is a long way outside this frame.
Changeover day
The lounge, where the board-game shelf sees serious and occasionally bitter use. A week of weather days will do that to a group.
Fifteen minutes from Golden, luggage by the skid. Everything that will be eaten, drunk or worn for the next seven days arrives on the same flight you do.
In summer the meadows do the work the snow does in winter. I spent an evening on the ridge with hikers strung out along the crest and mountains dissolving into haze behind them, and it is the closest thing to walking on a topographic map I know.
The summer state
The ridge walk above the lodge, cornice still holding in July. Nobody on this crest had seen another party all day.
Green meadow, no roads, no neighbours. The same bench that holds two metres of snow in February.
The country you have to yourself
There is no permit queue and no trailhead car park, because there is no trailhead. Access is the helicopter and nothing else.
Raking light on the high traverse. Late sun on scree is the reason I keep going back with a longer lens than I need.
No light pollution for a hundred kilometres
And it shows. The lodge is the only lit thing in the frame and it is running on its own power.
I stopped counting satellites at thirty. If you have never seen the Milky Way properly, this is a cheaper way to fix that than most.
My Purcell film, shot across a summer week. The 360 degree tour is here.
Mistaya: the glacier
Mistaya is the alpinist’s version. Fourteen guests in a red-roofed lodge at 2,040 metres in the Wildcat Creek basin, with glaciated ground straight off the deck and a sauna for what the glaciated ground does to you.
Glaciated ground starts at the deck. There is no warm-up valley and no gentle first day unless you decide to make one.
The daily commute
The footbridge below the lodge is the way out to the high routes, and it is crossed twice a day by everybody staying.
The lodge shares its basin with a private tarn. That is the whole neighbourhood: one building, one lake, and the ice above it.
The upper basin
August, and the meltwater is a colour nothing else manages. It comes off the ice a few hundred metres above where this was taken.
Evening light finding its way down-valley. The basin faces so that the last hour of sun arrives sideways, which is the hour to be outside with a camera.
Simple, warm, pointed at the mountains
Rooms are pine and bunks and a duvet, with the window doing everything a picture would be doing somewhere else.
The tarn from directly above. The trail around it is the warm-down lap, and on a rest day it is the whole itinerary.
Night at 2,040 metres
The lodge lit from inside under a sky that is doing this every clear night whether anybody is watching or not.
The other reason to be here in the dark. Both of these lodges are at altitudes and distances that make astrophotography almost unfairly easy.
The Mistaya film. Their 360 degree tour is here.
Choosing
Take Purcell if the party is mixed in abilities, ages or appetites, or if self-guiding matters to you. Take Mistaya if the word “glacier” raises your pulse, and if published pricing earns your trust the way it earns mine.
Both fill their peak weeks far ahead, and returning groups treat their dates as heirlooms. Book the changeover day, train your legs, and let the machine do the only rushing of the week.