The Garden Wall II

Jessica Stickseed (Hackelia micrantha).

Other delightful surprises kept showing up along the trail: blue forget-me-not like flowers (Hackelia micrantha), a wild clematis with drooping blue flowers (Clematis occidentalis), so many other flowers that I couldn't begin to guess at! I wish I could have had an expert botanist with me, I'm sure one could have pointed out so much more than I could take in.

Native clematis (Clematis occidentalis)

Along the trail.

Mountain Death Camas (Anticlea elegans)

Going to the Sun Road below the trail.

As the trail wound around thickets of subalpine firs and some very steep hillsides, it was now several hundred feet above the Going to the Sun Road. The lush vegetation of the Garden Wall began to thin out and become more like grassland. Fields of bear grass in bloom dotted the slopes.

Looking towards Haystack Butte.

Looking down a chute.

looking toward Haystack Butte.

I hadn't encountered any hikers for a while, and it had stopped raining when I turned around and saw this tiny creature on the trail right behind me. I'm still trying to figure if it was a Pika, a small mammal that inhabits high-altitude meadows in the Rockies, or a baby chipmunk or vole of some sort (the coloring looks much like a chipmunk but it's lacking the characteristic stripes).

A tiny inhabitant of the Highline Trail.

Pika or chipmunk?

I held still while the tiny-eared creature grazed on the vegetation around the trail briefly and then disappeared into the brush. I gazed at my watch--it was getting towards four o'clock. I had intended to reach Haystack Falls before turning back, but I needed to turn around now to get back in time to return my rental car before they closed at six.

Looking up.

Reluctantly I turned back. Other hikers returning from Haystack Falls passed me. I stopped now and then to take more photos.

Wildflowers on the Garden Wall.

Wild onion (Allium schoenoprasum)

This was the last photo I took before my camera froze up. The shutter would not focus or shoot, and when I tried to see the other photos I had taken, it would not change modes. Oh-no!  What was I going to do without a camera, and this early into my trip? I had two weeks ahead at Sperry Chalet--how was I going to get the photos I needed? How could I have been so stupid? 

Well, there was nothing I could do for now. Perhaps when the camera dried out it would go back to normal, or I could find a store in Columbia Falls where I could get it fixed quickly. But on a Saturday evening, the chances were slim. I passed a couple of Japanese tourists with very fancy camera rigs and was tempted to offer to buy one of their cameras, but they didn't understand enough English for me to even try.

I trudged on back towards my car. At least I'd gotten the hang of using the poles and my stride didn't feel so awkward as at the beginning of the hike. I drove back to the car rental place to call Kevin as prearranged. I explained the situation with my camera but he said he didn't know of any camera repair shop in town--there wasn't any store where I could make a quick purchase either. My only hope was to pray that the camera would dry overnight and work again.

That evening I tried to think of alternatives if the camera didn't go back to normal the next day. I called Herb and he thought perhaps he could buy me another camera the next day and ship it to Kevin overnight, and Kevin could send it up with the next mule train that would resupply the chalet in another few days. I fell asleep praying this wouldn't be necessary...

The Garden Wall I

Mt. Oberlin in clouds.

I woke to the sound of rain, got up to look outside, and yes, it was pouring out there! I lingered over breakfast hoping the weather would clear up later on. Kevin stopped by and I gave him my three duffel bags and portfolio for tomorrow's mule pack train.

While waiting for the weather to improve, I caught up with my Email on the hotel's computer. Getting on towards ten, the rain stopped and it seemed to be clearing. Today might be the perfect day to hike at the Garden Wall, with the plants fresh after the rain.

It would be chilly up there, so I put on every layer of clothing I had kept (everything else was in the duffels I'd given Kevin earlier), and unpacked my new hiking poles. This would be a good time to get the hang of using them, in preparation for the grueling hike to Sperry Chalet tomorrow. I bought a sandwich at a carry-out along the way and drove up towards Logan Pass.

Driving up to Logan Pass

The clouds played hide-and-seek with the mountains, and today the Weeping Wall was a veritable torrent. With fewer hikers and tourists out, there were plenty of parking places at the Visitors Center at Logan Pass. I ate half my sandwich in the car and then suited up for the trail. The Highline Trail, as it's called, begins at a meadow on the other side of the road by the parking lot at Logan Pass. It crosses a steep talus slope and then the trail continues above the Going to the Sun Road, which gradually drops down. All along this stretch the Highline trail is visible as a ledge running parallel several hundred feet above the road.

Looking down from the Highline Trail.

I steeled my nerves to look down from this precarious ledge to the road below, trying to reassure myself that my hiking poles would hold me steady. It was so narrow it would have been difficult to pass another person at this spot. 

The beginning of the Garden Wall

Once past this, the beginning of the Garden Wall was marked by rills periodically cascading down from the heights above and a profusion of plants unlike anything I'd ever seen. Plants grew anywhere the terrain gave them any kind of purchase.

Rocky Mountain Columbines (Aquilegia flavescens) under a ledge.

Black Twinberry (Lonicera involucrata)

I passed a lovely clump of Rocky Mountain Columbines (Aquilegia flavescens) growing under a moist ledge. Further on a golden twin flower covered by a purplish bract peeked out under a shrub, which I learned later was a native honeysuckle called Bearberrry or Black Twinberry (Lonicera involucrata).

Arctic Willow (Salix arctica)

Looking across the valley.

As I walked along I alternated between looking down at the plants and the spectacular views across the valley. The sun almost broke out once and then a veil moved across-- a steady rain started.

Rain moving in.

The Garden Wall

I pulled up the hood of my parka under my hat, and managed to keep fairly dry, but after a while my wool Tilley hat became completely soaked and droplets began to drip off the edge of the brim whenever I leaned over to look at or photograph the plants. I tried to keep my camera dry but it was almost impossible.

Mist on the Garden Wall.

In places the rocky ledge the trail ran on widened a bit and subalpine firs grew, giving some shelter from the wind. An incredible variety of species took advantage of the shelter--it truly seemed like a spring garden here.

Bracted Lousewort buds (Pedicularis bracteosa).

Twisted-Stalk (Streptopus amplexiflolius)

So many of the plants were completely new to me, though there were some I could guess at--these plants had eastern relatives that I was familiar with, or they were the native versions of cultivated garden plants--like Spirea, that I was well-acquainted with. Others, like the Bracted Lousewort, I had seen before on previous trips through the Rocky Mountains.

The leaves of the one above, Twisted-Stalk, looked very like Solomon's Seal, but the flowers were quite different. Some, like the False Solomon's Seal below, or the False Hellebore or Corn Lily (Veratum viride) seemed to be the same species that are also found in the east.

False Solomon's Seal (Maiamthemum racemosa) and blue Stickseed.