Bob Adams has devoted 30-plus summers to the Park Service as a backcountry ranger performing rescues and bear management

Following "Mustang Sally" to Montana changed Bob Adams' life in ways he never could have imagined.

His recollection of Mustang Sally is vague. He knows that's not her real name, but she drove a Mustang when Adams met her in 1966 in one of the Dakotas. Adams, a native of Mobile, Ala., was on a road trip, taking a break that summer between a military tour of duty and law school.

"She said she was going to Glacier, so I thought I would too," Adams recalled. "There wasn't any attachment or connection, but because of her I thought it would be cool to see Glacier."

Once Adams got to the national park, he ran into some seasonal workers who had an extra bunk and said he could stay for a while. He spent his days hiking around and met Carolyn Speck, a bread baker at the Sperry Chalet.

He fell in love, both with Speck and with Glacier, and hasn't spent much time apart from either in the ensuing 40 years.

Adams and Speck married, but he still had to finish law school -- his father was a lawyer, and it's a southern tradition for the son to follow in the father's footsteps. But instead of spending his summers clerking, Adams kept returning to Glacier, working first in law enforcement, then as a ranger.

He and Carolyn moved to Helena in 1969, and Adams practiced law for 13 years. But Glacier kept calling each summer, and while his legal work was going well, Adams knew it wasn't the lifestyle he wanted.

"I found that I didn't like it, but what was I going to do?" Adams said. "I stayed with it as long as I thought it was reasonably necessary to convince myself I should be doing something else."

He returned to school, enhanced his history degree at Carroll College and became a teacher in Helena. This allowed him to spend the next 30 summers in Glacier, where he works from the Many Glacier Ranger Station as what some might see as a modern-day "Grizzly Adams" and rescue ranger.

Adams' passion for the park permeates his conversations, and he's full of stories, ranging from the fun to the fatal.

He speaks with joy of the old two-bedroom cook camp where he and Carolyn brought their four children for 20 summers.

"It had a wood stove for heat, electricity and an outhouse," he said. "I'd bicycle the 5 miles to the ranger station on nice days."

The Park Service decided that rangers should be versed in climbing rescues, so Adams slowly learned the ropes and bettered his emergency medical skills. He also got the coveted backcountry ranger position, where he'd patrol trails and became part of a six-person rescue team that worked out of Many Glacier.

"Bear management is my primary job now," Adams said, relaxing at Helena High School during a study hall. "On typical days, it involves keeping a close watch on bear activities that are taking place, and hanging with visitors to educate them about bears."

But his job also involves trying to help people when an emergency occurs. He sadly recounts a terrifying rescue attempt in 2004 in which a hiker fell into a crevasse and Adams went in after him. The man was tightly wedged, feet down, deep below the glacier's surface.

"He was down so far you couldn't see the sky," Adams said. "I knew if I slipped off my rappel, I would get wedged in too."

He became hypothermic and had to be pulled out of the crevasse. A second team managed to pull the man to the surface, but he died shortly afterward.

A widely publicized bear attack last summer had a better outcome, Adams notes. A father and daughter surprised a grizzly, which severely lacerated both. They tumbled down a long rocky slope and landed on a ledge, where Adams helped stage a daring helicopter rescue that managed to wing them both to safety.

"They took the doors off the helo (copter) and the pilot is leaning out. There's a lot of down wash and you can't hear anyone," Adams said. "There was a paramedic from the hospital suspended on a rope and they brought in a special litter."

It took almost 10 minutes to get the father into the litter, who was then whisked away, suspended under the helicopter, for 4 miles.

"They deposited him at the pad in Many Glacier, then came back up for his daughter and ran the same thing for her," Adams said.

Both survived the attack.

And Adams hopes to spend more time in Glacier in the upcoming years. He's retiring from teaching history at Helena High School this year, which will allow him more time to roam the craggy mountains that provide the backdrop to his life.

"I'm just shifting my gears from what I do here; it's really important to educate people to the value of this sort of wilderness and making them more cognizant of wilderness," Adams said. "I love working for the Park Service. I'm always meeting new people from all over the country, even the world, and they're generally upbeat, and most are interested in what's out there.

"Of course, some think it's an extension of Central Park," he adds with a knowing smile and shake of his head, his voice trailing off.