Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Hiking / Fishing If Saturn Returns, Tell Him I'll Be Back Monday
Posted by Clinton Begley on Tue, Aug 30, 2011 at 4:00 AM
Location:Tamarack Lake
- Clinton Begley
- Competing Hues
For nearly five solid minutes all we knew of the world we saw through tiny rectangles. Jockeying for position in the fading light, each of our lenses trained high to capture a glowing amber peak battling an evening rainbow for center stage in the big sky of Montanas Bitterroot mountain range. As the minutes passed and the sun dipped below the opposing ridge-line to snuff out the giant alpenglow candle above us, my other senses recovered one-by- one. Amish butter and lemon thyme filled my nostrils as the aroma snuck between the camera and my face to remind me of the cutthroat trout I'd left simmering in a pan on the lakes granite shoreline. While hurrying back to tend to the fifth of six such meals the four of us would eat that day, the sizzling and crackling of the cooking fish re-emerged from beneath the sound of Tamarack lake draining in rushing cascades down the mountainside below us.
After a stop at the Sawmill Saloon in the logging town of Darby, for some native brews, 25 cent pool and a dollars worth of Johnny Cash on the jukebox the day before, we hit the trail at around four oclock and made quick work of the seven miles and 2200 vertical feet of trail to the lake. We'd spend the next three days cooking fish as soon as we caught them, and marveling at the cirque that surrounded us. One afternoon we took turns punishing our finally empty 16oz cans of Hamms with a .22 revolver for their once burdening weight on the hike in. I chose to put a few rounds through one of my cans for its burdening taste as well. Each morning after breakfast, wed each retire to our own selected spots of warm granite to soak up sun and commune with the last patches of snow praying for September as they clung to the mountains shaded faces.
- Clinton Begley
- A Bear Rises
I'd been in town a grand total of three days prior to hitting the trail, but already I was in good company. My friend Matt moved to Missoula three years ago for a teaching job from our hometown of Quincy, IL and hasnt looked back. Fellow Quincyan Eric just got a gig in Idaho to work on a Masters of Poetry and made the short drive north to get in some trail time with us. Our token Montana native Dylan played the part of state welcoming committee as he attempted to coax me into executing a stylish rock launch into the frigid snow-melt lake. Having demonstrated my aquatic fortitude while wading belly deep earlier that morning to access prime fishing holes, I was impervious to his admittedly creative scrutiny of my masculinity. Besides, at least I had something to show for my submersion. Breakfast.
I'd spent nearly the last decade with Montana on my mind and every daydream had looked exactly like Tamarack lake. Like many, I suppose that I could tritely attribute the writings of Maclean and photography of Adams to the initial spark of inspiration. But truth be told I cant really point to any single factor that led to my infatuation with the state. Perhaps a cumulative amalgam of lore, literature and art are to blame for the ethos of Montana inexorably penetrating my psyche. All I know is that I had felt its gravity for years.
- Clinton Begley
- Waterlogged Lodgepoles
Yet even in the silence as a million flickering strips of yellow passed by and the earth turned beneath rubber becoming less familiar by the mile, I never paused to consider the void that would be left once the pull subsided and I finally dropped my bags onto a dusty Montana doorstep. So far, it seems, the void has been in the shape of a trout, which lucky for me is easy to fill with herbed butter, golden skies and the satisfying report of a .22 revolver.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Hiking / Climbing Little Chief Mountain, Glacier National Park
Posted by Chad Harder on Mon, Aug 22, 2011 at 2:00 PM
Another weekend, another trip to Glacier. After an electrical storm pushed us off of Mount Allen (9,376') the day before (August 5,) my climbing partner Al Byrd and I met his friend and mountaineer Leah in Saint Mary and headed up the Going-to-the-Sun Road to place a bid on Little Chief Mountain (9,541'). After a leisurely breakfast and pack-up session we hit the trail to Virginia Falls. The Climber's Guide to Glacier National Park warns climbers that a once-great elk trail has been obliterated by downfall and to expect a horrible bushwhack. So after crossing the bridge below Virginia Falls, we split up in an effort to find the "route" amidst the willows, alder and other difficult-to-penetrate vegetation. After a few dead-ends, we found it, an excellent but nearly invisible trail through head-high thickets. Less than an hour later, we emerged onto the open western flank of Little Chief, directly at the bottom of an easily-walkable slide path that extended directly upward more than 3,000' until it is blocked by impossible summit cliffs.
- Chad Harder
- Summit scramble
From there its an easy one mile stroll south along ancient and undulating goat trails, traveling until the cliffs relent and allow upwardly-mobile types an array of easy scramble routes to the true summit.
- Chad Harder
- Leah stolling the alpine goat trails.
We saw two other climbers that day, one a speed racer who literally ran down the mountain, charging through cliffs and scree like they weren't there. The other was also solo, a single man we caught up with on the ascent. Kevin casually claimed an impressive tic-list of Glacier summits, backing it it up with a deep knowledge of the surrounding place names, features and histories. He was slow-moving but confident and very friendly. When he asked if he could join our group as long as he could keep up, we said sure, confident in his ability to take care of himself either way, and kept climbing.
- Chad Harder
- Little Chief's scree-covered summit
A cold wind greeted us atop the summit, and we dressed warmly for a quick lunch and nap, high above most everything else—Logan Pass, the road, the world.
- Chad Harder
- Kevin on Little Chief
Typically seen from the road as the dramatic ridgeline across from Saint Mary lake, the dramatic ridgeline connecting Little Chief to Matotopah and Red Eagle Mount lay at our feet to the east.
- Chad Harder
- The Matotopah/Red Eagle ridgline,as seen from Little Chief's summit
We considered making the day longer, heading out across the ridge and tagging the next two summits as part of a loop, but we'd got off to a late start that morning and decided against it. Instead chose to head back down the way we'd come up, breezing down the scree, across the goat trail, through the hidden elk highway and back to the world-class swimming hole/jumping spot called Saint Mary Falls. A little-too-public bath under the bridge and we returned to the car, clean and happy.
- Chad Harder
- Leaving the alpine
Friday, August 12, 2011
Boating Back in Montana and on the Rivers with the teenagers
Posted by John Lehrman on Fri, Aug 12, 2011 at 4:00 AM
After a month abroad, returning to Montana is an amazing feeling. Reconnecting with where we live is usually top of the list for me and luckily my daughter has been getting into kayaking in between long hikes in the Bitterroots to get in shape for soccer season. We have paddled on the Blackfoot River, the West Fork of the Bitterroot and today I managed an amazing session in Missoula on Brennan's Wave in the Tiger Striped Superstar, which I picked up from Luke and KB at the Stongwater Surf Shop. Moving onto the gorge this Sunday, with hot weather still predicted, it should be a great introduction to my daughter who never grins so widely as when she is in the waves in her kayak. River flows are staying solid enough for floating most reaches, and it has been a great way to cool off this hot passed week and work the rust out of some boating skills I have been neglecting in favor of skiing into July this passed summer.
I look forward to contributing to the Montana Headwall Blog this coming season. This late summer and fall, I will be focusing on kayaking, mountain biking and rock climbing but should be able to get out for some high mountain adventures as well. The only known trip to look forward to now is a self support Selway kayak trip I will be on next weekend. I will bring the GoPro and capture some good in river action.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Hiking / Climbing / Camping Mount Natoas, Glacier National Park
Posted by Chad Harder on Thu, Aug 11, 2011 at 12:51 PM
After three grizzly bears denied us the summit of Mount Cleveland one day prior, our climbing party of Morgen Lanning, Kara McMahon and myself headed for the summit of the much-less-notorious Notoas Peak. At 9,360 feet, Natoas doesn't draw near the attention of 10,000+-foot summits like Mount Cleveland or its immediate neighbor, Mount Merritt (10,004 feet). But it still involves 4,200' of climbing and 18 miles of slogging, just to approach it from the nearest trailhead. Fortunately, wildflowers outnumbered mosquitoes and biting flies, although just barely.
- Chad Harder
- Approaching Natoas, near Mokowanis Lake
We woke at the Mokowanis Lake Trail Junction campground beat from a bid on Mount Cleveland the day prior and made the coffee press work overtime before hitting the trail by 8:30. In two miles the trail disappeared and we began the bushwhack straight up from Mokowanis Lake. After following mediocre elk trails for an hour or two, we broke free from the vegetation and began scrambling up scree and small cliffs to the Mokowanis-Merritt Saddle.
- Chad Harder
- Approaching the Merritt-Natoas Saddle
Another two hours of fun, scrambly routefinding later, we finally topped out at the saddle and scanned the horizon for recognizable summits. Peerless views of the Ptarmagan Wall, Chief Mountain and Old Sun Glacier demanded our attention, but it was the view of Natoas that most impressed. A thin ridge defines the approach, but the other three sides are guarded by cliffs 1,000+-feet high. All three of us had stood surrounded by these two remarkable summits before, just three years prior. That day Kara and I had made it up Mount Merritt while our climbing partners had balked at the final above-the-abyss snow crossing. At the time we believed that we would never stand here again—its just too far in, and too much work. Somehow, here we were again, beat but not particularly surprised.
- Chad Harder
- Heading across Old Sun toward Natoas.
We made our way across onto a corner of Old Sun Glacier and followed very fresh grizzly bear tracks toward the summit of Natoas. With winds blasting the summit hard enough to knock us over, we stayed more or less seated while atop the peak.
- Chad Harder
- Summitting Natoas
After taking a few pictures, we made our way back across the glacier, through the pass and back to camp, thankful for another great day in the park.
- Chad Harder
- Like ants to sugar...
Hiking / Climbing / Camping Mount Cleveland, Glacier National Park
Posted by Chad Harder on Thu, Aug 11, 2011 at 11:20 AM
I have a real weakness for the stunning alpine of Glacier National Park, and I regularly find myself driving past other exquisite ranges (Missions, Swans, Bitterroots) to go get lost in them. So on July 27, I headed out with Kara McMahon and Morgen Lanning to try and find our way up Mount Cleveland- at 10,479 feet, its the highest peak in the park. We got to the backcountry office before they opened and stood in line before scoring a camping permit at Mokowanis Lake Junction. After packing up our gear at the Chief Mountain trailhead, we headed down into the Belly River Valley. We saw perhaps a dozen backpacking parties during the 12-mile approach, an almost-no-vertical trail that penetrates the northeast aprt of the park and gets hikers across the Belly River via a seasonal suspension bridge.
- Chad Harder
- Belly River bridge
The next day we woke early and headed up to Stoney Indian Pass, passing a seemingly-endless lineup of cascading waterfalls along the way, and fording creeks twice before getting to snowline. Once at the pass, we paused for brief lunch of pre-cooked elk brats on tortillas with white cheddar and a sprinkling of glacier lillies.
- Chad Harder
- Elk brat with glacier lillies
We left the snow-covered trail and climbed up to the narrow goat trails weaving between the three iconic spires toward the broad summit, with plenty of ascending and descending of steep gullies along the way.
- Chad Harder
- Routefinding amid the Stoney Indians
The route traverses the Stonies via a high ledge, visible here near the upper band of snow:
- Chad Harder
- The Stoney Indians-to-Mount Cleveland Traverse
We crested the false summit—just a few hundred feet shy of the the true one—and promptly bumped a large sow griz and her two cubs-of-the-year. They bolted away, galloping, and covered the half-mile of scree to the top in a flash.
- Chad Harder
- Grizzly sow and cubs atop Mount Cleveland
When they disappeared over the other side, we pow-wowed, and decided to not follow—even though it meant not reaching our goal. A bit disappointed, we took solace in our position atop of the world.
- Chad Harder
- Morgen Lanning takes his lunch
With winds gusting over 60 mph, we carefully retraced our route out along the cliffs and ledges, finally arriving at the trail in twilight. By the time we arrived back at camp, we'd conjured a perfect objective for the next day: Mount Natoas.
- Chad Harder
- Descending Stoney Indian Pass