Surviving a Near-Death Fall in a National Park

Headwaters

Morgan Bell spent 10 seasons working on Glacier’s trail crews—one of the toughest and most demanding jobs in the park. Until a single day—a single step—changed everything.

Headwaters is created by Daniel Lombardi, Michael Faist, Gaby Eseverri, and Peri Sasnett.

Glacier Conservancy: https://glacier.org/headwaters Frank Waln music: https://www.instagram.com/frankwaln/ Stella Nall art: https://www.instagram.com/stella.nall/

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TRANSCRIPT:

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Lacy Kowalski: Headwaters is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy.

Gaby Eseverri: Note: this episode deals with an intense accident in Glacier. Please take care while you're listening.

Morgan: I remember this distinct feeling of getting off that hitch, and having that weekend to myself, and just being completely content with life. I remember that moment of just like, Oh, I'm so happy and I feel so good with where I am and who I am right now.

Gaby: So what happened on the walk back?

Morgan: I was on an incline, and when you walk on an incline and snow, you kind of like lean in: kick, kick, kick, dig, kick, kick, kick, dig. So I had kicked into the snow, that there was enough where I had kicked in and exposed it that I actually kicked in to ice. And I stepped on it, and it just took me out immediately.

Gaby: You fell.

Morgan: I did.

Gaby: You fell off the Highline.

Morgan: I began to slide. Yes, I fell off the Highline.

Gaby: Every community—a high school, a workplace, a national park— has its set of stories: local legends, colorful rumors and cautionary tales told in hushed whispers. They come and go, as people do, but I think some of these stories are etched into the fabric of these places. When I moved to Glacier last year, I started to learn the stories and characters of my new community from the stories we've told on Headwaters, to the old locally-famous characters I see referenced everywhere. Like Joe Cosley, the notorious park ranger and poacher. Or Josephine Doody, the moonshine mogul. One of these stories is that a trail crew employee once fell from the highline trail onto Going to the Sun Road and lived. It's almost beyond belief. And it felt a little taboo to know this about one of my neighbors. To know what happened, but not know them.

Music: [somber flute music starting]

Gaby: To know what felt like their secret, but not their telling of it. This year, I became friends with that person. And I quickly realized that they don't see it as a secret. This story that I saw as a dark piece of their past was something that they brought light to. And in doing so, brought light to so much more. You're listening to Headwaters, I'm Gaby. This is a show about how Glacier National Park is connected to everything else. In this episode, we talk about how one event can change a life. This is a story of Morgan Bell's relationship with Glacier: a career on trail crew, and how a single day, a single step, changed everything.

Gaby: Do you get the sense that you'll go down in park history? Park lore?

Morgan: I think, with such a substantial experience and story of survival, yes. I think my name will be associated with this place for a very long time. My name is Morgan Bell. I am a concession management specialist here at Glacier National Park, and I have been employed here for 22 years.

Gaby: What brought you to Glacier then? What brought you to Montana?

Morgan: I had received a letter from Glacier National Park in the mail advertising positions for trail maintenance.

Gaby: Had you ever been to Glacier?

Morgan: I had never been to Glacier. In all honesty, I had never even heard of Glacier National Park.

Gaby: [laughing] Okay, cool. So when you came out here at 22 to work trails, this place sort of represented adventure.

Morgan: Yeah, it really set a stage for me to be my own person. It was my first time on my own.

Gaby: 22. Yeah. So what was working trails like here when you started?

Morgan: It was super intense. It was exposing, not only to the elements, but emotionally, you know, like personal level exposing—of being embodied in the woods with strangers for six months.

Gaby: And you're physically doing a lot of work because you're clearing trails?

Morgan: Yeah.

Gaby: Yeah. What does that actually mean? And what are you actually doing?

Morgan: It consists of typically a season that runs from April to October. And you, primarily in the spring, are focusing on clearing downed trees that would have fallen through winter storms.

Gaby: Okay. So to get them ready for visitors.

Morgan: Yeah, yeah, for hiking. So we'd go out and clear trails with chainsaws, sometimes crosscuts. Clean all of the drains so that water can move off of the trail. We build structures so all of the bridges that you cross across creeks and rivers.

Gaby: So it's taking a lot of you physically to be able to do all of that.

Morgan: Physically and then mentally. I mean, you're put into the wilderness and working hard and building relationships. But it really laid the foundation and gave me a glimpse into my, like my ability of self, what I could and couldn't do. It was a really strengthening period for me.

Gaby: So tell me about this culture of trails.

Morgan: There's a lot of pride in it. There's a lot of ownership and there's a lot of longevity.

Gaby: If you're a newbie, it's like, Are you going to stick around?

Morgan: Are you going to stick around?

Gaby: Yeah. Are you going to be a, what do you trail people call themselves, trail dogs?

Morgan: Trail dogs.

Gaby: Okay. [laughing]

Morgan: Yeah. Yeah, trail dogs. It's a right to become a trail dog. You have to work for it. It's a sense of pride to become one. Yeah. To become part of the pack. There was an authenticity to the relationships that you could build with individuals in such extreme environments. It was a community that provided instantaneous support. It was a wave of, like, experiences with each other.

Gaby: Hmm.

Morgan: We have ten days where it just pours rain on us.

Gaby: Everyone's unhappy. Everyone's miserable.

Morgan: Everyone's unhappy. Yeah. Yeah. But that somehow connected us, and we still got the job done. We still had fun. We still made our meals together. Yeah.

Gaby: So you moved here when you're 22, you started trails.

Morgan: Mm hmm.

Gaby: At some point, you became crew lead.

Morgan: Yeah. So typically, each crew, depending on the district, is made up of anywhere from 4 to 6 individuals. My crew that year was myself (the crew lead), and then I had a maintenance worker, and I had two laborers. I had a lot of, I was very excited and had a lot of pride to be a trail lead.

Gaby: How old were you when that happened?

Morgan: 32. I really started to see how Glacier had shaped me into the individual that I was becoming. I can hike a trail, like I can in my mind, I can envision a trail without being on it because I've been on it so many times.

Gaby: That makes me think of knowing our homes in such an intimate way.

Morgan: Mm hmm.

Gaby: And so these trails are sort of. Yeah, like a home.

Morgan: It is home. It is home. You know, I have a favorite tree. I have a favorite rock.

Gaby: Aww.

Both: [laughing]

Morgan: And I have memories built in certain areas right? There's like, those keynote moments that are kind of ingrained in my being. I became very integrated with Glacier. I identified with it. There's an intimacy of how I connected with Glacier. My literal blood, sweat and tears were put into the ground.

Gaby: From working trails.

Morgan: From working trails. Trails exposed me to the deepest parts of myself. It built a level of strength and identity within me to understand myself. That was like a level of intimacy. Who would I be as an individual if I wasn't shaped.

Gaby: By trails.

By trails. It solidified that this was where I was supposed to be. I'm all about universal signs. [laughs] And there was a moment before I came to work here. I was working in a physical therapy office at the front desk. And there was a calendar that I had, and one of the photographs I really admired. And so once the month had passed, I tore that page out and stuck it on my wall and would just look at it. Fast forward, and I'm standing at the top of Logan Pass, and I look around and I was like, [gasp], this is that picture. And so that was a pivotal moment for me where I was just like, This is where I'm supposed to be.

Gaby: Logan Pass is the highest place you can drive to in Glacier, home to the highline trail. The highline is cut steeply into the mountainside, and parallels Going to the Sun road for several miles. When I hiked the trail, I was surrounded by beargrass and other colorful wildflowers in bloom, and I was sweating as the warm summer breeze hugged me. When Morgan and her crew were there on that day in 2012, it was still spring: gloomy and snowy, and her cheeks were pink from the cold mountain air. She was there to get the trail open, clearing it of snow and debris to get it ready for the thousands of eager boots that hike the highline every summer. This is no easy task on any trail. But now imagine one with drop offs so steep that it feels like every butterfly in the world made its way to your stomach. As if that weren't enough. Out of snow and ice to the mix.

Morgan: The morning had started, July 3rd, 2012, but it was raining and it was like a low cloud cover. Definitely still spring-summer in the high country. Historically, trail crew is responsible for blasting snowfields on trails of high use. So we walked out, got to our destination—the last snow field we needed to assess—and then we geared up and begun our walk back to the trailhead. One of my trail members was in front of me. I was second in line in the group of five, and him and I were just chatting up a storm. We were just like having a really good conversation. And we had crossed a number of snow fields by this point and we had approached our last one that we needed to cross. I got pretty far across it, and I could see there's seasonal water. This part, section of the trail, seasonal water flows. What had happened is that water had froze, and created like an ice layer. I was on an incline and when you walk on an incline in snow, you kind of like lean in, kick it, kick, dig, kick, kick, kick, dig. So I had kicked into the snow. But there was enough where I had kicked in and exposed it that I actually kicked in to ice. And I stepped on it, and it just took me out immediately. It was fast. Like, it wasn't like a "whoopsie" slip, it was like a slip. Hit the ground. Start sliding.

Gaby: You're still on snow and ice.

Morgan: I'm traveling, still on snow and ice. Yes. And I was crossing, the snow had kind of collected in a couloir of sorts, or like a you know, a natural chute that had been created through this water feature.

Gaby: Okay.

Morgan: So snow ran from the trail all the way to the road. It's not fluffy, It's not soft. It's not playful. It's icy, hard-packed, compacted snow. Very.

Gaby: Rough.

Morgan: Rough and hard.

Gaby: And if anything, it's only making you slide faster.

Morgan: Faster. Yeah. And the slope of which I was sliding was also steep. I hit the snow immediately, and began to slide. And I recall when I first fell, I was on my back and I was going headfirst, downhill. I attempted to self arrest with the hand tool I had, which was a shovel. So it's a method of putting it across your body and trying to dig it in and use it as a break. I didn't have crampons or an ice axe. That wasn't something that we typically carried with us. I was able to like, spin myself around with my shovel, and then I was feet first going down, trying to break.

Gaby: So now you're seeing.

Morgan: Now I'm seeing.

Gaby: The ground.

Morgan: The ground and where I'm going. But I'm like laying on my back still and trying to use my shovel. At some point, my shovel was ripped out of my hand. And I lost it. And I remember in that pivotal moment, it was so fast, but everything was like so slow in that moment. And I remember just being very aware of what was happening, but extremely like, methodical in my actions. So once I lost my shovel. I flip myself back onto my stomach. And so now I'm traveling. Feet first on my belly. And my only attempt to slow myself down was to expand. So I put my arms out, starfish, essentially. Put my arms out really far. Began to dig in with my hands and my nails. My feet started to, like, kind of really push my toes into the snow. I remember, like the sensation of my face dragging on the snow, and the sound of it, the speed of it.

Music: [low, dramatic bass music starts in the background]

Morgan: And like the snow that I was gripping and moving across, like flying around me. And like, screaming, it was incredibly loud. Really, really intense, primal fear, like loss of control and completely terrified. What my crew members experienced as well is that they heard me yell, I can't stop.

Gaby: So they're hearing you while they're still standing on the highline?

Morgan: Yes. And they're watching me. They can see me sliding down. At a certain point, they lost sight of me and didn't know what the outcome was, but knew that I had made it to the road because from the highline they could see the road itself, but they could see vehicles going around.

Gaby: Something.

Morgan: Something.

Gaby: On a slippery patch of hard snow and ice. Morgan slid 350 feet from the highline. That's more than the entire height of the Statue of Liberty. Then she free fell another 12 feet onto unforgiving pavement. Onto Going to the sun Road.

Morgan: I remember a majority of the slide and at some point I lost consciousness, on the snow field. And I came to on the road. I don't know the duration after I fell, like if it was seconds, minutes. I remember like being on all fours, you know, on my belly and just kind of like lifting my head and seeing blood everywhere, like pooled up on the on the road and all over my face. I was like, Oh, my gosh, okay, I'm on the road. And at that very moment, it was like these little black shoes came running up and came within my view. And I was almost like in Child's Pose, hunkered down, and this individual was saying to me, like, are you okay? Where did you come from? I don't know how clear I was in communicating, but I recall saying I fell from the highline. I'm trail crew. I was on the highline. I slid. I recall laying down instantly, feeling a lot of pressure in my head. Intense pressure in my head, in my face. Just holding my head.

Music: [music fades, shifting to background flute music]

Morgan: And I recall people coming in. So visitor service assistants from Logan Pass came down to assist. They started performing an assessment on me of my injuries and stabilizing me, you know, my C spine and everything like that. The individual who had come upon me on the road was actually a registered nurse from Billings. From what I understand, Rangers got on site and Alert—which is an emergency helicopter—was called, and took off immediately to come LifeFlight me to the hospital. And so I was put on a board and put in the back of the shuttle bus and transported to Big Bend. And once Alert was on site, they put me in an induced coma and got me in the plane or in the helicopter, and we took off.

Music: [dramatic flute concludes]

Morgan: I would never be who I was again. Even with complete healing, I would always be different. It would never be the same. That trails would never be the same, that my life and my activities and my existence as I knew it would never be the same.

Gaby: Do you remember waking up in the hospital?

Morgan: Mmhmm.

Gaby: Was it where you confused or.

Morgan: No, I was incredibly ashamed. I remember my supervisor, who I have great admiration for. He was there in the room. They got the call that I had woken up. I was in the ICU, and the first thing I said was I'm sorry. [laugh] I remember him just being like, will you stop it? You know? Like, why are you apologizing to me? Like, no apology is necessary. I felt embarrassed. I felt ashamed. I felt that I had let the team down through my actions. Because I understood the consequences of what had happened not only to me but to the program as well.

Gaby: In the days following the park, halted all trail crew operations while they investigated the accident. For the next season, there were new safety guidelines in place for snow travel. And every year since, trail crew does mandatory snow and ice safety training where they practice using ice axes and crampons, and setting up fall protection. Morgan's accident changed the trails program and the culture of snow safety throughout the entire park. Heads up. Morgan is about to describe her injuries. If you're not interested in listening to the details, you can skip ahead 2 minutes.

Gaby: So when you woke up at the hospital, what were the physical injuries?

Morgan: Starting from the top, traumatic brain injury.

Music: [low base music starts playing in the background]

Morgan: So I had had a swelling of the brain. So to stop that, what they had done is shaved my hair, just the top portion of my scalp, front portion, and created a laceration from my right ear to the apex of my head.

Gaby: Like, they cut that open.

Morgan: They cut that open well and essentially peeled back down and drilled three holes into my skull, which alleviated the pressure of the fluid building up inside of there. While they did that, I had also sustained multiple fractures to my face. And one of the more sustainable fractures that I had was completely shattering my forehead. So they went in and pieced it together with metal pieces that ironically are called Dog Bones. I broke my nose. I lost my front tooth, chipped it. I had multiple lacerations on my face, the most extreme being my upper lip, which had been torn off and my cervical area and neck. I had,uh, bilateral dissected carotid arteries, which essentially is the bands around my carotid arteries had exploded. I then had a right dislocated shoulder and a lacerated liver. So majority of the injuries were head and neck. Every single one of them was life threatening.

Gaby: Did you feel like you looked different? Like it was a different person that you were looking at after the accident?

Morgan: Yeah. And that was really hard to look at myself. Really hard to look at myself after the accident. [emotionally] A lot of like, sadness for what I had done. It was just hard. It was hard to like, I don't feel myself as vain, but it's hard to look at yourself with, in a different context, when something on your face changes or on your body change. Essentially a stranger. The shell of me had changed. I had identified with myself for so long as someone in the mirror meant to be looking and seeing the holes in my head and the scar on my forehead.

Music: [flute music comes in in the background]

Morgan: And the abnormal angle of my nose and the shift of my eyes and all of it. The missing tooth, the shaved head.

Gaby: So there is this reckoning that you're going through with identity.

Morgan: There was a reckoning of the identity not only like physically, but a reckoning of the loss of my identity of self and who I presented myself as. What I did.

Gaby: Yeah.

Morgan: Who I was. It was wiped clean in one fall.

Music: [flute music concludes]

Morgan: This loss of self and identity, and my former relationship with Glacier, for a very long time challenged me and put me in very dark places. You know, depression came naturally with it. I get covered by the darkness, and there's times that I can let it put me on the ground and be at the depths of it. Ultimately. There's an essence of my being that shines brighter.

Gaby: Did the fall at any point feel like it defined Glacier for you? Like you were sort of avoidant of this place because it was too intense, to go to Logan Pass, or too intense to go through the entrance station?

Morgan: Never.

Gaby: Never.

Morgan: No. I'd be remiss to say that it wasn't. Moments of anxiety driving up the road and approaching the shoot.

Music: [background synth music begins]

I know that none of this occurred out of vengeance, that I did something wrong to deserve this. I was eager to come back and connect, such an integral part of my being. It was a loss. I was grieving. I was grieving Glacier. I was grieving that I wasn't able to immerse myself in it. And that I had to be home. There was nothing I wanted more than to be here. This place means a lot to me, and I care immensely for every square inch of it. And so, I have apologized to Glacier. We've come to an understanding together that that wasn't intentional. I have a direct line of sight of the garden wall from the foot of Lake McDonald. And while you can't see the exact location that I fell, it's still the general area. And I have allowed the wind to carry my words up valley. And I have allowed the wall's words to carry down to me. I honor it. Dubbed the chute, like, "Oh, shoot." [laughs]

Gaby: Oh, chute.

Morgan: Yeah, "Oh chute!"

Gaby: That's what you call it when you go by it?

Morgan: Yeah. You know, I. Yesterday I drove the road and I said hi to it as I passed it. I spotted it I was like, Oh, there it is.

Gaby: Oh, chute.

Morgan: The Oh, chute. And I don't pass it and associate it with the memories of falling. It's just like, wow, there is that pivotal point. The memories of the fall [sniffle] aren't associated with it anymore.

Gaby: I don't think anyone would have blamed Morgan if she decided to leave this place after experiencing what she did. For all its beauty, Glacier has seen some truly horrible things: Morgan's accident, and so many others. This place has stories that I will never really know, or for that matter, understand. Maybe all places and communities do. But I think Morgan is right that to really know a place, a community, means honoring that darkness.

Music: [music fades out]

Morgan: There's not a conversation where it's like, me without Glacier. It has been such an integral part of my life for two decades on so many levels. It's where I have worked. It's where I've experienced loss. It's where I fell in love. It's where I raised my daughters. It's where I have some of my closest relationships and life memories embodied. It is here.

Music: [swelling string music begins]

Morgan: The epitome of a trail dog is like strength and tenacity. You know, and I was exemplifying that like tenfold by surviving. It was just the circumstances,.

Gaby: Right.It was ice.

Morgan: It was ice. It was an accident.

Gaby: It was an accident.

Morgan: Yeah. I sometimes ponder with the idea of like, was it intentional? Did it have to be me and did I get to survive? For the purpose of what I am now. It was supposed to be me. So it's it's really curious. Like, where would I be?

Gaby: Yeah.

Morgan: Where would I be without this experience? Where would I be without this place? So I appreciate you guys. Thank you very much for letting me share my story.

Gaby: Well, we love you.

Morgan: I love you guys, too. Thank you so much.

Music: [Dramatic music swells, and plays out under the credits]

Peri Sasnett: Headwaters has a production of Glacier National Park and is supported by the Glacier National Park Conservancy. We could not make the show without them. You can learn more about what they do at Glacier.org. Headwaters is made possible with help from Lacy Kowalski, Melissa Sladek, and so many people throughout the Glacier community, especially the natural and cultural resource teams. We're grateful for all of you. Our music this season is by the brilliant Frank Waln. The show's cover art is by our sweet friend Stella Nall. Check out Frank and Stella's work at the links in our shownotes. Special thanks this episode to Morgan Bell for sharing her story so candidly and gracefully. We also appreciate Duncan Lennon and Cameron Aveson for all of their insight into the trails program. Besides sharing this episode with a friend who might appreciate it, you can help us out by leaving us a rating and review in your podcast app. Thanks for listening.