While you may have been reading about Glacier National Park in your Sunday Sun's travel section, Ace and I were there.

Fine as that story about the park was, Glacier comes about as close as anywhere I've ever been to being indescribable. Words just seem a little paltry amid such magnificence.

Even Ace -- who normally only gets up to look at the scenery when he smells something, hears the sounds of people, or senses  we're close to home -- seemed taken by the views along Going-To-The-Sun Road.

Like most national parks -- Grand Canyon, Acadia and Shenandoah being among the exceptions --Glacier isn't especially dog friendly. Park rules prohibit dogs on trails and require they be leashed at all times.

(National forests are generally more tolerant of dogs than national parks.)

But between the cool temperatures, Ace's being a mellow traveler, and the couple of times we cheated (and let him romp among the rocks and waterfalls in the clearest water I've ever seen), it was probably worth all the time he had to spend in the car -- and preferable to staying home alone.

Call me anthropomorphic, but I truly think, on some level, Ace appreciated the majesty of the place. And, even if he didn't, I did. Glacier wakes you up. Glacier rejuvenates your soul. Glacier does for your spirit what dangling your bare feet in one of its ice-cold waterfalls does for your toes.

Go to Glacier, and go soon, because, due to global warming, by 2030 the last of the 27 remaining glaciers -- down from 100 that covered nearly 1,000 acres at the end of the 19th century -- will be gone.