Hike to Sperry Glacier II

Mt. Edwards from Comeau Pass

Clouds began to gather on the west as I ate my lunch. My lunch companion's friends arrived as we were finishing, and he put his backpack on. The young men took off right away while I lingered a bit taking in my surroundings. From here I could see several expanses of snow fields zigzagging across rocky ridges. The trail had disappeared, but rock cairns piled every so often on the ridges marked the way.

Stone cairns marking the trail

A group of mountain goats were looking for grazing just below the pass, and scurried away as I approached. I wondered if they used the stairs at Comeau Pass to get over the pass (the grizzly earlier in the week had used the stairs), or if they preferred to simply walk on the rocks--either would be easy for them.

Mountain goats below Comeau Pass

Mountain goats

A group of hikers returning from the glacier passed me on a snow field, and the young men hiking  ahead of me were so far ahead I soon lost sight of them. Looking down the hill, the array of small lakes dotting the snow fields, and the peaks below were gorgeous.

Hikers going to Sperry Glacier

Trail to the glacier

View to the north

Lakes near Sperry Glacier

Even the lichens on the rocks were fascinating: bright orange-red and yellow-green. I followed the rock cairns as best I could, but somehow I must have veered off-course, and when I finally came around a promontory, I saw that I was a couple hundred feet below the glacier. I started back uphill too close to a rocky outcrop, and before I realized it, my foot had sunk down into an undercut in the snow. Fortunately it went straight down, and I didn't twist anything, just sank into the snow up to my crotch. That shook me up--what if I'd sprained or broken an ankle? How would I get back on my own? I was probably crazy to be hiking alone, at my age.

Hikers on Sperry Glacier

The sky was becoming increasingly cloudy. It looked as if a storm was coming, the question was how long before it would get here. After seeing the ferocity of the first storm a few days earlier, the last thing I wanted was to have to go over Comeau Pass during a storm--on those exposed ridges one could easily be hit by lightning.

It was about two o'clock and the young men who had gone ahead of me and played on the glacier were now coming back. I gauged how much more time it would take me to reach the plaque that marked the glacier, and it was more than I wanted to chance--my remaining energy was better invested on getting back over the pass before the storm hit.

With Sperry Glacier in the background

Near Sperry Glacier

Reluctantly, I decided to settle for a couple of photos standing in front of Sperry Glacier, which my young friend took, and then start back. Near the pass I encountered a family group with children who thought they had reached the glacier, and I explained that they had about another half-mile to go to get there. They continued forward, though I wouldn't have advised it.

Going down the staircase

I managed to reach the staircase at Comeau Pass just ahead of the storm. Once below, as I ran downhill on the trail, the winds buffeting the exposed ridges were so strong they almost knocked me down,--I would have fallen, except for  my hiking poles holding me up. I stumbled down the trail as fast as I could while the first drops of rain fell. As soon as I reached a less exposed area, I stopped to pull on my jacket and put the hood up, and continued hurrying down to lower altitudes.

The deluge I had expected didn't materialize, or the lightning, only a bit of rain, not enough to soak through. Yet the trail had become like a stream in places, the water tumbling down in torrents over the rocks. The flow of the waterfalls seemed to have increased, the sound of the water and wind overwhelming.

Akaiyan falls during the storm.

As I descended the storm passed, and my attention turned to the plants--they seemed to thrive with the periodic soaking, whether from snow melt or rain. I stopped to photograph some of them before heading home to Sperry Chalet.

Yellow mountain heath (Phyllodoce glanduliflora)

Alpine wildflowers and mosses

The storm over Sperry Chalet

First Day at Sperry Chalet

Handsome goat grazing by the chalet.

That first evening  at Sperry Chalet, I was introduced to the rituals: the dining room closed between four thirty and six for the staff to prepare our meal. At six o'clock the door opened and the guests began to seat themselves at the places marked with their names. There were eight tables, some seating large parties of ten to twelve, other tables for smaller parties of four to six, and one small table for two. I looked for my name and found myself at the far end of the first table, among ten others, near me two were couples, the rest were a family group.

The main course rotated every three days: roast beef, chicken and turkey with the trimmings (I'd been warned that the food could get a bit monotonous). The staff joked that they lost track of the days of the week during the eleven-week season, since the work schedule was pretty much the same every day except for some afternoon time off every nine days, but they marked the days by whether it was chicken, turkey or roast beef day.

A good hot meal with home-baked bread and dessert is such a luxury after the long hard hike uphill, it was welcomed enthusiastically by all, and the company was congenial. Strangers introduced themselves and shared their experiences of the day easily, seeing this or that animal, memories of previous visits to Sperry, or similar environments, all interesting and amusing.

After dessert had been served, the staff would introduce themselves, each giving a helpful hint or tip about Sperry Chalet--the thin walls of the chalet therefore the necessity for quiet hours at night; prohibitions about flames near the buildings and what to do in case of a fire alarm; warnings not to leave our possessions within reach of the goats and marmots who could make off with them and chew them up for the salt they craved; they had flashlights available for those who hadn't brought any (there is no electricity at Sperry Chalet), and coffee hour between 8 and ten, when the gas lamps in the dining room were lit for reading and games.

Sperry Chalet

Each evening Renee read a paragraph or two from "Avalanche," the memoirs of Dr. Lyman's Sperry's nephew Albert about the expeditions exploring this area in the 1890's in search for a route to the glacier that bears Sperry's name.

After the staff intros, the guests were asked to introduce themselves, one person from each party. I had been asked to introduce myself as Sperry Chalet's Resident Artist for the season, and I mentioned that I was from the east coast and this was my first time in Montana.

That first evening I turned in early. The next morning I saw a family of mountain goats grazing just below the wooden railings when I came down to use the communal bathroom building down the hill. The goats moved out of the way to allow passage but they were not afraid--this was their turf and they appeared to be used to humans.

Communal bathroom at Sperry.

After a hearty breakfast I walked around to explore the immediate surroundings. There were a few flowering spikes of Bear grass near the Chalet. I went up to my room and brought my working kit down to work on the first study of this unfamiliar plant.

Bear grass pencil drawing.

A simple a pencil sketch is the way I usually learn about a plant: how the leaves and flower stalk are put together, the individual flower, the stigma and ovary, the anther. Xerophyllum tenax is the botanical name. Multiples of three indicate this is a member of the lily family. This particular spike was in the early stages of flowering. As I had observed in other locations of the park, the stalk would gradually elongate as the flowers continued to open until it formed an oval shape.

Xerophyllum tenax, early stage

My sketch filled the rest of the morning. I'd look for other flowering stalks later on when I was ready to do a color rendering; for now this one was just right.

The staff usually prepared bag lunches for all the guests, since they assumed everyone would be hiking during the day. On my first day I was too tired to wander very far so I stayed around to try one of Sperry's famous grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch--it was just wonderful on the homemade bread with a bit of soup on the side.

During lunch I had the opportunity to chat with the horse wrangler who had brought up a party of riders to Sperry Chalet. Stephen turned out to be a young man from Georgia, a college grad, who had started working as a manager for a construction company. He loved the outdoors and after a trip to Montana decided to move here to work at the stables of the Lake MacDonald Hotel during the season. He confided that he'd seen the documentary "Unbranded" five times! I could definitely empathize... wondered if he'd stick to his decision for a lifetime or if at some point he'll have had enough of this precarious outdoor life and go back to what his parents I'm sure had hoped for him.

In the afternoon I ventured back down the hill to sketch the Glacier Lilies under the subalpine firs. These were growing on a steep bank along the trail. One of the guests walking by offered and took the photos here--the lighting is a little weird in the first one.

Sketching the Glacier Lilies

Glacier Lily sketch (Erythronium grandiflora)

It was providential to have chosen to sketch the Glacier Lily on my first day--their blooming season is so short that a week later all of the flowers had disappeared! I learned that the starchy bulbs of the lilies are a favorite food of grizzlies and they will dig up entire patches of them to feed. Fortunately, the bears miss enough of the tubers that the patches can regrow.

A few days later I met a lady who stayed overnight with a good-sized group, and asked to buy my Glacier lily sketch. Peggy worked as a guide for Glacier Guides, and I agreed to sell her my sketch when I got back home. I never did take a photo of my finished color pencil sketch before shipping it to her, what a pity!

The insects were already very annoying (even with repellent spray), and even so more after dinner, when I tried to to do a small sketch of the view from Sperry in the setting sun. This is as far as I got before I had to run for cover.

Evening View from Sperry Chalet, watercolor, 5" x 8."

Logan Pass and Hidden Lake Ovelook

Fields of Glacier Lilies at Logan Pass

Kevin had suggested that I rent a car for a few of days so I could see more of the park on my own--the perfect solution--we made the arrangements that evening when he picked me up. The rental business also offered helicopter rides around the park. That was tempting until I heard the price tag: $800 for an hour. That might be affordable if you could find another seven persons to share the ride with.

The next day, reluctant to tackle the challenging Going to the Sun Road (the only road through the park) in an unfamiliar car, I thought it best to first explore the park on the free shuttles. I parked at the west entrance Visitor Center and boarded a bus-sized one at the Visitor Center which dropped us off at Avalanche Creek, a few miles above Lake McDonald Lodge. Only glimpses of a good-sized creek on our left were visible through the heavily forested sides of the road. At Avalanche Creek we waited for a smaller van (a 12-seater) to take us up the alpine section to Logan Pass. Once on board, the road began to ascend rapidly, going through a short tunnel carved in the rock and turning crazily around The Loop--an amazingly steep switchback that is a landmark.

Tunnel in the rock below the Loop.

After the Loop the view opens up to a grand valley surrounded by snowy peaks, through which Logan Creek flows.

Logan Creek flows through the valley.

As I sat in the shuttle, others familiar with the area mentioned some of the trails they were going on that day, and I heard someone talk about "The Garden Wall"--that sounded like the sort of trail for me! It started at Logan Pass, but from the description it wasn't too clear where exactly. The driver pointed out the Weeping Wall and Haystack Falls as we passed, and I asked about another waterfall visible on the other side of the valley. I was told this was Bird Woman Falls, which drops in two stages from a hanging valley and then down towards Logan Creek for a total drop of nearly 1000 feet.

Bird Woman Falls with Mt. Oberlin on the left.

Everyone got off at Logan Pass--to continue east over the Continental Divide another shuttle change was necessary. Once at Logan Pass, I saw signs for a trail to Hidden Lake Overlook, but the sign said the trail beyond was closed due to bear activity. The overlook was only about 1.5 miles away. Fields of yellow-flowered Glacier lilies and other alpine flowers carpeted the meadows dotted with subalpine firs.

White Pasqueflower (Anemone occidentalis).

Glacier lilies (Erythronium grandiflora).

These stunted trees around the treeline are known as krumholtz. The trail began as a paved walk, then a boardwalk and finally turned into rock.

 

Trail to Hidden Lake Overlook

After half a mile or so the trail became steeper and began to cross patches of slippery snow--my backpack felt impossibly heavy. I hadn't thought to bring my hiking poles--it was hard for me to imagine there would be still be snow here in mid-July, but I was learning. I wasn't about to let this dissuade me--the best thing was to ditch my pack and take only my camera, which was heavy enough as it was, and continue. I saw youngsters in sandals ambling through the snow patches, certainly I, equipped with boots, could manage it too. I left my pack by a large rock, hoping no one would steal it, and went on.

Hiking at Logan Pass.

At one point in the trail there was room for only one person to go across a steep snow patch and people were trying to pass each other, risking falling down a steep slope. I became traffic cop and asked the other folks going in our direction to hang back and let the folks returning pass us first and then we could go on. Everyone complied and a dangerous situation was avoided. Funny how most people don't think of a common courtesy like this and put themselves and others in danger.

Trail to Hidden Lake Overlook.

Hidden Lake was beautiful, I would have loved to continue on down and see it at close range--too bad the trail was closed. I wondered what kinds of plants might grow on its banks.

Hidden Lake and Bearhat Mountain.

Hidden Lake.

At the overlook, a collared nanny goat with her baby came very close to where I was standing--other tourists were crowding the poor thing, trying to get photos and she kept backing away, eventually stepping on the tiny ledge you see here. I found out later that the she-goats molt later in the season than the males because they require more nourishment to nurse their young.  By mid-July the billy goats all had nice new coats, but the nannies were still in the process of shedding their winter coat. A biologist told me the wooden collars were designed to fall off later in the season after tracking had been recorded. This way they didn't have to try to catch the goats a second time to de-collar them.

Nanny goat and kid.

Billy goats at Logan Pass.

On the way back I noticed more lovely alpine flowers in bloom: tiny Shooting Stars, Moss Campion, Saxifrage, a variety of buttercup or cinquefoil, far too many unfamiliar flowers and plants for me to be able to identify.

Moss Campion (Silene acaulis)

Tiny Shooting stars (Dodecatheon pulchellum) and a species Saxifrage (Saxifraga occidentalis?)

Rocky Mountain Cinquefoil (Potentilla rubicaulis) or Varileaf Cinquefoil (Potentilla glaucophylla)?

Back at the Logan Pass Visitor Center I sat outdoors to eat the chicken salad I'd brought with me for lunch (the Visitor Center offers only cookies for sale and doesn't allow food inside).  A tiny squirrel kept me company, probably hoping I'd drop a scrap.
 

Squirrel at Logan Pass

Afterwards, I tried to sketch the view, but the black flies and mosquitoes were merciless, and I'd forgotten to bring my bug spray. I finally gave up and headed back to the shuttle. Traffic was so heavy in the afternoon that when I got down to Avalanche Creek I had to wait for a second bus to find a seat. It was after five by the time I got back to the parking lot at the Visitor's Center.