Hike to Sperry Glacier I

The Sperry Glacier Trail.

Most of the folks who visit Sperry Chalet spend two nights (if they can get reservations)--to rest from the hike on the first night, then hike up to Sperry Glacier on the next day, and rest for another night before going back down to Lake McDonald. Those who can't get a second night's reservation usually hike up to the Glacier on the following day and then go back down to Lake McDonald, making for one very long hike on their second day.

The hike from Sperry Chalet to Sperry Glacier is about 3.5 miles one way, with an elevation rise of about 1500 feet up to Comeau Pass. Being fortunate to have ample time at Sperry Chalet, I could choose which day to hike up to the Glacier. After several days of conditioning with short hikes, I was ready to attempt the hike to Sperry Glacier towards the end of my first week.

Bear Grass along the trail.

The staff had told me there would be several difficult switchbacks on the way to Comeau Pass, and a number of slippery snow fields to cross--to watch out for undercuts in the snow, where one could easily fall through. I lightened my pack as much as possible, taking only water and lunch, with the usual extra layers of clothing and can of bear spray on my belt, and I put the snow tips on my hiking poles.

Akaiyan Falls.

I was already familiar with the first part of the trail between the two waterfalls, and didn't linger there to take photos, except for some really beautiful stalks of Bear grass. I made mental notes of other plants that I hadn't noticed before for future sketching excursions. 

Shortly after the second waterfall, the trail became steeper, and once again, I started needing frequent breaks to catch my breath. The vegetation was becoming sparser, but there were still plenty of alpine wildflowers to observe as I rested.

Alpine buttercups

As the trail rose, new views of the rock formations became visible, and I came across the first snow patch--it was much slower walking on this, because it was so slippery from the tracks of other hikers. The snow tips on the hiking poles were a big help, I was glad to have them.

Patches of snow on the trail.

The waterfall above the cirque.

Looking down at the trail.

Distances can be so deceptive in this kind of terrain--certain landmarks appear close, but the trail swings around wide, making the distance much greater than one thinks at first. Looking down at the trail below me, I got a much more accurate view of how wide the circle it really was, and how the switchbacks doubled back and forth. After this stretch the trail leveled out a bit and rose past several small lakes with a good deal of ice still in them.

On the Sperry Glacier trail.

At this point I passed a young couple from Colorado I had met at Sperry Chalet the night before, hiking back from the Glacier. It was around eleven-thirty in the morning and they had  already been there and were heading back towards Lake MacDonald--I wished I could be as young and physically fit as they were, but I wasn't doing too bad for someone my age. They were kind enough to offer to take this picture--I was sweating profusely from my exertions but reluctant to shed my vest in the chilly breeze.

Featherwoman Lake on the way to Comeau Pass.

I hadn't caught sight yet of Comeau Pass, but there were some lovely meadows around the lakes, and spectacular views of the mountain ranges beyond.

Meadows above the lakes

Wildflowers at the timberline.

Mt. Edwards from the trail.

The imposing mass of Mount Edwards loomed towards the left, its waves of geological strata scoured by the action of glaciers over eons. A hoary marmot clambered around the rocks nearby, and there were still more snow fields to traverse.

Hoary marmot near Comeau Pass.

Eventually, the snow fields led to the headwall that forms Comeau Pass. Dr. Lyman Sperry's party had to climb up this vertical wall to get over the pass; later on an immense ladder bolted onto the rocks was installed to make it easier (shudder!) for hikers to climb. To make the trek to the glacier less daunting, in the 1930's the Park Service widened a natural fissure in the rock (this was accomplished by trail crews using hand chisels), and a rock staircase was built into it, still used today.

The headwall at Comeau Pass

Going up the stair at Comeau Pass

As you can see, the rise on some of these steps is three to four feet in height, while the treads are very narrow, making for an interesting scramble up. The guy wire railing was a recent addition--the original railing was a rope that had to be replaced every few years--and very necessary on the way down. It's not hard to imagine what it'd be like to try this stair in icy conditions...

Looking down the staircase.

Comeau Pass and Gem Lake

After the workout getting here, it was a good time to enjoy lunch at the top of the pass. I sat on a rock while contemplating the views, but with the wind and exposure, drenched in sweat, I put on my jacket to ward off the chill.  The moment I brought out my paper bag lunch a tiny chipmunk showed up--how it is these animals know we're bound to drop a scrap or two?

Chipmunk joins me for lunch at Comeau Pass

As I was eating my sandwich, a young man joined me. We chatted as we ate--he was waiting for his three friends to catch up. They were from California, taking a trip through the Rockies, and had camped at the Sperry campground near the chalet.

Sketching Day

Rachel soothes a skittish mule.

It was Thursday, and the mule pack bringing up supplies arrived around ten, after I'd finished my morning sketch session. After putting my gear back in my room I was walking down the Chalet's deck when I saw Rachel talking softly, trying to soothe one of the mules tied to the railing. She explained that the mules didn't like being on the rocky ground around the Chalet, and needed extra coaxing.

 Renee and the staff would pack the stuff that was going back down in large plastic trash cans the night before, so it would be ready to load onto the mules once the supplies had been unloaded. It was fascinating to watch how quickly and efficiently the staff unloaded and put away the fresh supplies while the packers re-loaded the mules with the stuff going back.

Renee unloads fresh supplies for the Chalet.

Today, they were sending down some of the old bed frames no longer in use, in addition to the usual dirty laundry, trash, and empty gas cylinders. I'm sure it took a good deal of planning and sometimes last-minute juggling on Kevin's part to keep the stream of supplies flowing smoothly. I imagine the cost of the mule packs running for the entire season might be the single largest expense for the Chalet.

The packers brought the mules to the back of the chalet, where I took photos of them from one of the balconies on the second floor. They duct-taped the bed frames into a nicely balanced A-frame.

Packing the bed frames.

A mule packer duct tapes the frames together

Leading the mules down.

After the frames had been secured, the men led the mules down to join the other mules tied by the dining room posts. For me, watching these young men work was like being in a western movie, except these guys weren't actors and their work was obviously hard. They seemed to enjoy it--a hard life, but probably a good one for these parts!

Pink Mountain Heather (Phyllodoce empetriformis)

After the mule train departed, I took my art gear to the area in back of the Chalet to sketch the pink mountain heather plants I'd seen there the day before along the trail. I worked on a color pencil sketch of it, and included a sprig of the subalpine firs that grew all over.

Pink Mountain Heather (Phyllodoce empetriformis) and Subalpine fir (Abies lassiocarpa), color pencil, 10" x 8"

I wish my sketch could have done justice to the beauty of this small plant, but all I could do was to try to render its features faithfully: the needle-like narrow leaves on the twisted stems and the bunch of tiny pink bells at the ends. The leaves of the subalpine fir look very similar, although it is from a very different family of plants than the Mountain Heather. Both plants showed new shoots of yellow-green leaves against the darker green of previous years' growth. In the short growing season here every plant had to produce new growth very quickly at the beginning of July to have it mature by the beginning of September, when the first snows would arrive.

My room at Sperry Chalet

My room.

After a few days my single room on the second floor facing west, was beginning to feel like home. I had arranged all my art supplies on the small table, where I could sit to work when my eyes needed rest from the bright light outdoors. The photograph on the wall was the work of one of the previous resident artists, and it was lovely to look at--printed on canvas. Considering its size, I wondered if it had been difficult to bring up on the mules, and how it had been packed. 

All personal effects were hung from hooks on the walls (there were no closets) because there was no way to keep small critters such as mice and voles out. I had staff privileges, which meant access to the one shower the staff shared (hot water was such a luxury here!) in a separate building, and I could hand-wash my clothes too. I' d been instructed to shower in the morning before breakfast or in late afternoon, while the rest of the staff was busy with other chores, so as not to get in their way. And I learned to hang my freshly washed clothes on the line so that nothing hung down within the reach of goats (they like to eat soap too--minerals!)

At night I hung my miner's lamp and a tiny LED battery-run lamp from my bed frame so I could read a little in bed before going to sleep. I usually have to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and the first night, walking in the pitch dark was very scary--I kept picturing grizzlies lurking in the shadows of my headlamp, just waiting to pounce. 

But as time went on, I got over that and once I'd reached the deck of the Chalet, I'd turn off the headlamp to look up at the night sky. With no light pollution here, the Milky Way seemed so close and bright--it was a beautiful sight! It's amazing how much one's eyes can detect once the pupils adjust--I could make out the outlines of the mountain ranges, trees and rocks as I became familiar with them, and once in a while, catch sight of a mountain goat near the Chalet.