hike: glacier national park, goat haunt (waterton lake)

Unnamed lake, where we stopped for water.

We ate dehydrated, vacuum sealed maple cinnamon toast with rehydrated apples (found here) for breakfast -- not too bad, if I may say so, but then I am a huge fan of any breakfast served on toast.  The toast was bulky to carry, so have it early in the trip.  We ended up chatting at length with two of the guys in our camp.  They had been brought in by horse (though the horses had been taken back to the trailhead).  I clenched my jaw and refused the real cream one of the men offered me to put in my coffee, simply because it had been brought in by a horse.  I don't like what horse packing does to the trails, let's just leave it at that.  As we chatted with the guys, we came to find out that they were plain-clothed Border Patrol agents.  They told us about how they get the hard job of hanging out in GNP (since it abuts the Canadian border) for a spell during the summer.  I was surprised at how forward they were with us, which made me a little skeptical, though it explained (but didn't soften my attitude towards) the horse packing. 

After breakfast, we packed up our gear and headed towards Goat Haunt.  We stopped at an unnamed lake glacial blue lake, and later, at Lake Francis, we could hear thunder, and by the time we were ready to go again, the storm was nearly on top of us, so we hung out under tree and waited it out.  First time I've had to do that.  It showered on and off for a time after that, finally easing up as we approached Goat Haunt. 

Goat Haunt was rather surreal.  We knew it was accessible from the Canadian side of Waterton Lake via a ferry concessionaire, so while we understood that people might be present, it was still odd to come wandering out of the woods and into a developed visitor center area, complete with uniformed Customs agents, NPS law enforcement and swarms of non-backpack-shlepping tourists.  The NPS law enforcement ranger asked us if we had encountered any Border Patrol agents in the backcountry and my skepticism of the two horsepackers evaporated.  We were then asked if we'd seen these folks (we hadn't).  The ranger went on to tell us that there were known bears in Goat Haunt, including a brown-colored black bear. 

Goat Haunt has formal "hiker shelters": concrete slabs with three-walled and roofed cubbies for hikers to pitch their (hopefully free-standing) tent in.  My tent is not free-standing, so I slept sans tent, which is my preference anyway.  If a bear is intent on getting me in the night, making myself into a plastic-wrapped treat isn't going to help me.  We did see the brown-colored black bear while we were enjoying some time lakeside, but he stayed away from camp so far as we could tell.  We did laundry and considered our options for the next day.  The previous day's hike had done a number on some of us and we weren't sure we could safely proceed with our next day (14 miles).  Dinner was "Tamale Pie for Ungrateful Waifs" from Lipsmackin' Backpackin'.  Really good (I'd had a hard time dehydrating the green chilies, so we actually packed in a small can of them -- first time I've ever packed in canned food), but sooo much of it, we nearly didn't finish it.  Cheesecake for dessert. 

The view from the Goat Haunt campsites
(the Goat Haunt Visitor Center is the structure on the shoreline)

Next morning, we had dehydrated eggs with spinach and cheese a la Backpacker's Pantry (much better than I remember from my girl scout days), vacuum-sealed bacon and tortillas for some pretty fine breakfast burritos.  As we were packing up, it became clear what I think we all knew: we weren't going to attempt the 14 mile hike, but take the ferry to Waterton, Alberta and then a shuttle van from there to my car, stationed at the border on the east side of the park.  And that's what we did.

hike: glacier national park, boulder pass and brown pass

Me at Boulder Pass. 

We got up as early as we could manage, gulped down some coffee and trader joes blueberry muesli mixed with instant oatmeal and topped with cranberries. We had some serious trail to cover this day -- 16.5 miles I believe, is my all-time single day record (I remember having a really long day on my last 50-miler with the girl scouts, but I think that was more like 12 or 13 miles). We headed up and into a recently-burned forest, like a telephone pole farm. Fresh new shrubs covered the ground -- they'll have most of the sun while the trees get reestablished, then thin out again as the forest canopy develops.

Looking down into Hole in the Wall basin
from the east side of Boulder Pass.

The views of Kintla Peak, Agassiz Glacier, and a pass that was formed from the most amazing step-like rock erosion were spectacular. Looking back, we could see Upper and Lower Kintla Lakes... and then the switchbacks began. According to our NPS backcountry permit, we climbed 3470 feet that day... nothing to sneeze at. Up and over Boulder Pass (easily one of the most beautiful places I've ever been, if only because of the stellar views in all directions), and down into a deep green basin with cascading waterfalls and views of Bowman Lake, Thunderbird Mountain and Brown Pass, where we would camp that night. I realize now that a good bit of this view was also of Canada -- I should've waved. We chatted a lot on the trail (talking is encouraged in bear country), and we played kid's travel games to keep the talking nearly constant, interspersed with "hey bear".

Heading down from Boulder Pass towards Brown Pass,
Bowman Lake in the background.

We arrived at the Brown Pass campground a bit grumpy (did I mention the 16.5 miles?), and were greeted by more mosquitoes than was really necessary (the permit-issuing ranger did warn us about the mosquitoes, at least). There were only three campsites at this campground. We dined on chicken noodle soup (I'm convinced: soup packets are a source of sanity in camp), tortellini with vegetables and I suspect we had some dessert, though I don't recall what it was. Hung the food and tromped off to bed.

more photos can be found here.

hike: glacier national park, St Mary and Kintla Lakes

I arrived in Montana around noontime on Saturday and was almost immediately smitten. I have long believed that I would love Montana, and it turns out, I was right. A stunningly beautiful mix of mountains, farmland, wetlands and small towns. I headed north from I-90 at St Regis, following State Route 135 along the Clark Fork River. I continued northward on State Route 200 passing through Paradise and connecting with State Route 28 near Plains and heading towards the resort-town surrounded Flathead Lake. US Route 93 took me around the northwest edge of the lake, heading towards Kalispell, an adorable town I could see myself living in some day. US Route 2 (which I could've taken all the way from the Seattle area, with a few extra hours -- next time) took me from Kalispell to West Glacier, and the Park entrance.

Since I was meeting Jana and Mike on the eastern side of the Park, I had to drive the Going to the Sun Road, not that I was complaining. The sunniest of what would be three trips for me on this road, it was gorgeous. Near The Loop, about halfway across the Park, traffic was held up by two men who were flagging down a Park Ranger to tell them that they'd seen a bear about a mile away. I shuddered as I noticed that they were both sporting handguns on their belts. I am much more afraid of them than I am of the Park's bears.


the view from Going to the Sun Road



I arrived at St Mary Campground shortly after Jana and Mike. They'd already checked in with the nearby Backcountry Permit Office and found that no permits were available for our preferred hike, the North Circle. Mike had a printout of the permits that were available as of permit office close of business, so we poured over maps and guidebooks to build a new preferred hike and some alternates. Mike is great at this -- I may hire him to plan all my backcountry hikes for me!

My first night with my red canister of bear spray at my side was a little unnerving and I didn't sleep as well as I might have if I hadn't been downright expecting bears to walk through our camp. They didn't.

Up at 6am, Mike shuffled over to the Backcountry Permit Office and was still the fourth person in line. Jana stayed in camp to make breakfast (blueberry pancakes and bacon), and I brought Mike a cup of coffee (note: Starbucks' single redeeming feature may be Via, their instant coffee -- perfect for backpacking). When we got our turn at the permit counter, I was reminded of how I used to register for classes at Humboldt: planning out my class schedule on graph paper, watching a pair of TV monitors at the commons building that listed the number of seats available in each and every class, then going to the registration office at my appointed time and hoping the classes hadn't filled up while I was standing in line. Mike pointed at a map and named campsites as the ranger entered our choices into a database and would say yea or nay to getting a permit for each. We ended up with a dramatized version of our new preferred hike:

(edited to correct mileages)
Kintla Lake Trailhead to Lower Kintla Lake: 6.3 miles
Lower Kintla Lake to Brown Pass: 16.5 miles (!)
Brown Pass to Goat Haunt: 8.6 miles
Goat Haunt to Mokowanis Lake: 14.3 miles
Layover at Mokowanis Lake: 0 miles
Mokowanis Lake to Chief Mountain: 14.4 miles
TOTAL: 60.1 miles

(The original had the miles spread out a little more evenly)

We divided up the communal gear, food and got my car situated at the ending trailhead, Chief Mountain (right at the US/Canada border). We then hauled across the Park in Jana and Mike's trusty Volvo stationwagon and up to the Kintla Lake Trailhead About four hours to do all that had us setting out onto the trail at about 5:15pm. Fortunately, our first 8 miles were essentially lakeside, so there wasn't much elevation, just mostly flat miles. We heard a pair of loons on the lake -- a lovely, eerie call. Quite a bit of bear sign -- mostly torn up tree bark, where the bears look for insects. Gorgeous mountains surround the lake: the Boundary Mountains to the north and Kintla Peak to the southeast.



scenery around Lower Kintla Lake




We got into camp just as the evening light was dwindling. This was the largest backcountry campground we stayed at, with about seven campsites. The campsites in Glacier's backcountry were unlike any I'd seen before: each designated campsite is just large enough to sleep four (two small tents or one larger one). There's a communal food preparation area, like one of the campsites, but surrounded by benches, and near to that is a constructed bear bagging pole or frame (no searching for a tree branch that was just right!). All food, food-or-otherwise-scented items, and water were to be bagged every night. They even stipulate that sweat-soaked clothing should be "secured", lest some salt-seeking marmot or mountain goat find it while you're not looking. Each campground had a pit toilet (some with walls, some without). Our first dinner was miso soup and chicken curry. The curry was pretty decent -- it was one of the dinners I was charged with preparing back home, so I was pleased to find out that it went over OK.

We saw several mice at this campsite and not an any of the others. They scratched at my tent a few times in the night -- I flicked them away from the inside. Bear spray at my side, I slept well.

hike: anderson butte

My first hike of the year was to Anderson Butte, Mt Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest. I was aiming for Watson Lakes, but for a multitude of little reasons, I turned back early, around what I think was the foot of Anderson Butte. Most of the hike was on a snow field, so the trail was sort of a decomposed remnant of a snowmobile trail, getting thinner and weaker as we went. The snow was rapidly melting -- I could hear the snowmelt rushing along the streambed that was under our feet at some points, which made me nervous -- both for myself and for Finn -- if one of us had crashed through the snow, serious trouble could be had, or at the very least, some real discomfort for the return trip. I also got an embarassingly late start, and I wasn't prepared for hiking in the dark. So I called it a day before all the little stresses turned into a big stress and ruined the hike.

It certainly was beautiful though!


aforementioned snowmelt underfoot





finn tries his hand (paw) at forest management






that's Mount Baker there, hiding behind the clouds in the distance

Indiana

No sooner had I come home from Las Vegas than did I repack my bag for a trip to Indiana. A colleague of mine, JP, and I were to meet at the Indianapolis airport before renting a car and driving to Spencer, where were to assist a third colleague with some project work. JP was to arrive before me at Indy airport, but her flight was delayed until after mine. No problem, I thought, I’ll just get comfy it in the terminal and read my book until she arrives. Then something funny happened: between the arrival of my flight and hers, the old Indianapolis International Airport terminal closed, and the new one opened. The captain said something about my flight being the last American Airlines flight to come into the old terminal, but I didn’t think much of it until I was walking down the concourse and saw the retail shops and kiosks packing up their wares, and when I stopped for a bite and a beer (what little there was to be had) at one of the restaurants, the waitress was stacking any tables and chairs not actively in use in the corner. Still trying to kill time, I was seemingly the only passenger still wandering around, and -- as he was packing up some oscillating fans -- an airline employee asked if I needed help, and told me that any flights arriving after 8pm would be going to the new terminal, and that the passengers would be shuttled over to the old terminal for pick-up, etc. Not sure where they’d be shuttled to, I wandered around a bit more and asked for details at an info station. The woman there curtly informed me that the old terminal was closing, as if that weren’t perfectly clear by now (I could just about hear them ripping up the carpet and tearing out the fixtures behind me as I left the concourse. Eerie, that.) It became clear though, that there was no shuttle, but rather that I would have to go collect JP at the new terminal. I rushed over to the car rental desk, checked out my Ford POS and got directions to the new terminal.

What a difference! The old terminal was all threadbare carpets and peeling wallpaper, where the new terminal was clean (even the parking garage sported no oil spots!), the ceilings were high, the accents were modern, and there were flocks of people in red fleece jackets ready to assist you at every turn. One news film crew, and a few banks of automated check-in monitors that hadn’t been installed yet. Brand. Spanking. New. I found JP and we headed out to Spencer.


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The weather being less than cooperative, we did a little more office work than anticipated. Not that we weren’t prepared or willing to go out in the rain, mind you, but that project construction had ground to a halt due to the heavy rain. So we assisted with office work in Spencer. We ate five out of seven meals at Chambers Smorgasbord, a Spencer institution, where the lunch buffet consists of fried fry, with gravy and a side of fry, hold the nutritional value. Actually, skeptical as I was, it was pretty good. I had never heard of, let alone tried, a fried biscuit before, and it turns out, they are awesome. I also had some great meatloaf (fell under my “when in Rome” dietary theory), as well as some boiled bits that appeared to be vegetables.

We stayed at McCormick Creek State Park’s Canyon Inn, which we mostly just saw in the dark and the rain, but on Thursday we got to leave the office a little early before we headed out for dinner in Bloomington, so JP and I took a walk around the park while the weather was dry. Lovely hardwood forests—unusual to me, being a westerner—and some fantastic rock formations, some of which included fossils!





No idea what critters these may have been, but they sure were neat to look at!

I also saw a teeny tiny fuzzy caterpillar (about half an inch long)….



And this crazy day-glow orange spider! (about an inch long, legs inclusive)


(If anyone knows what these critters are called, I sure would love to know!)

JP headed back to the inn and I wandered around the creek a bit more, desiring some time to myself. I walked and climbed and thought about everything and nothing. I thought about how infrequently I am really alone, and how it’s good to spend some time alone in the natural environment. I intend to try to do that a little more—spend some time with trees and the ground and the water and the critters. Don’t worry Mom, I’ll be careful.

Come Friday morning, the weather was getting worse, so JP and I decided to curtail the sightseeing we’d planned on into western Indiana and across Illinois, and after a quick trip to the field, we hopped a plane and headed back to Seattle two days early. I had a great time, bonded with two incredible women, and saw a corner of the earth that I otherwise may never have seen. JP and I are already planning our return trip in the spring.