BACK IN THE MOUNTAINS

10th – 15th September BACK IN THE MOUNTAINS

There was a noticeable difference in the weather and in the number of daylight hours, since we had driven through the Rockies in early July.
We awoke the next morning to rain and cloud-shrouded mountains, with fresh snow in places, so we took it easy and only after lunch did we head over to the St. Mary Visitor Centre to plan some hiking. That afternoon we drove to Many Glacier and from there began a short hike to Fishercap Lake hoping to see a moose, but no luck there. On the way though we had our first black bear sighting, 2 small dots on a hill that became an adult and a juvenile with the help of binoculars. Our trail continued past Red Rock Lake to the Red Rock Falls, a vivid deep red mudstone.
By the time we were driving back to our camp it was getting dark but we were lucky enough to see a handsome male moose with an impressive rack by a lake’s edge. A bit further away, a grizzly bear (or were there 2?) was feeding in among some bushes. It was fairly dark by this time and I could only just make him out even with my trusty binoculars.

The next morning the air was cold though the day was sunny. To reach the trailhead of the Highline Trail, our planned hike, we drove about a third of the way along the scenic 50-mile Going To The Sun Road until we reached Logan’s Pass, where the road crosses the Continental Divide.
Going To The Sun Road is a scenic route through the Glacier National Park between the west entrance near West Glacier and the east entrance at St. Mary. It was completed in the 1930’s and is winding, narrow and steep. Trailers are not allowed to travel on it hence we had to take the longer route the day before.
The Continental Divide extends through both Glacier and Waterton Lakes National Parks and beyond to Crowsnest Pass. This is the dividing line of high ground; on the one side of which the rivers flow to the Pacific and on the other side the rivers flow to the Atlantic.
At Logan’s Pass we were already above the tree line and we followed along a narrow rock ledge for some way, against the side of the steep mountain. From this ledge we could look way down and far out at a wide-open vista of mountains in all directions.
As the trail continued it kept at a fairly even gradient, and some way along we were introduced to wild huckleberries by a couple of girls who were picking this local specialty. They’re popular with the bears too I’m sure.
On a distant hillside we watched Long Horn sheep grazing and further along followed the movement of mountain goats down into a valley.
We had lunch high up on an alpine vantage point with a magnificent view and watched as the group of about 20 mountain goats, which included about half a dozen young ones, came closer. They seemed quite unperturbed by our interest, so we were able to get very close and watch them feeding on the low growing vegetation. In late summer groups of females and young ones stay together, feeding up in preparation for winter. I’m assuming this was such a group.
The handsome males, which have great furry beards and straight black horns, are solitary or cluster in small groups, (females have shorter black horns).
These animals are quite large and strong looking with glorious thick white fur. Their sturdy back legs looked particularly impressive to me, needed I’m sure, for good balance and for leaping from rock to rock.
They live all winter high in the deep snow of the mountains, feeding on lichens and whatever else they can find. The veins in their feet are able to enlarge to prevent them from freezing, and the fermenting of the digesting food in the first of their 2 stomachs also helps them to withstand the below zero temperatures.
I felt privileged to have been able to watch them so closely go about being beautiful mountain goats.

Next morning we left St. Mary and made a hassle-free crossing into Alberta at the Chief Mountain Border. Checking what kind of bear spray we had seemed to be the only concern. Apparently some varieties can be used as weapons! Nasty! Nasty!
We established ourselves at the campground in the little town of Waterton, which is nestled on the edge of the large and beautiful Waterton Lake and planned to spend several days. A herd of mule deer has grown accustomed to grazing in the campground and around the town, taking shelter against the wind and rain by huddling together up against the walls of buildings. Easily recognized by their large ears, which stand straight up, ever alert to any alarm, and black-tipped, white tails, they moved contentedly about the grassy campsite, feeding, thereby eliminating any need for lawn mowing.
I was thrilled to be revisiting Waterton. We’d been there 4 years ago, with Matt and Alan and cousin Dave, my first experience of The Rockies, and I had lovely memories of beautiful hikes and lots of laughs.
On our first afternoon we hiked the Bertha Falls and Bertha Lake Trail, which begins right at the campsite. The round trip is about 15 km and it took us about 5 hours. The first part of the trail has magnificent views overlooking Upper Waterton Lake, which extends south and into Glacier Park in Montana. The trail then begins to climb up to a lovely view of the Lower Bertha Falls, followed by switchbacks taking one up more steeply past the Upper Falls, which we caught but a glimpse of, to the alpine lake. Having a snack beside the water were a group of about 5 people and their horses. Eric and I continued on to do the gently rolling 4.5 km trail that circles the lake. “Bertha Lake is a beautiful, deep-blue lake set beneath tremendous cliffs.” Steep avalanche slopes come straight down to the water’s edge. We noticed a few campsites hidden away but close to the lake and I thought how great it would be to spend a couple of days up there taking quick dips in the perfectly clear water (if it ever got warm enough) and enjoying the alpine wild flowers and the sun.
On the way down we came upon the group of riders again and as we came up behind them I marveled at how the horses managed to negotiate the narrow rocky path.

Egg sandwiches and power bars were the sustenance for a longer, more strenuous hike the following day. Our plan was to climb up onto, and walk some of the way along the Akamina Ridge. To get to the trailhead we drove along the Akamina Parkway. From there we began by walking the 1.5 km, which took us up to the Akamina Pass and to the border with BC. Now we were entering the Akamina – Kishenena Provincial Park, which abuts Waterton, and we made our way along the Wall Lake Trail, which rose gently through forest. There were small patches of fresh snow here and there; reminding us that summer is a very short season in the mountains. There can be snow for eight months of the year. Once we reached Wall Lake we could look way up high towards the heavens and see the Akamina Ridge long and strangely flat. As I contemplated the sight I couldn’t quite believe that this was really where we were headed.
We walked around the north end of the lake and then began the very steep climb up to Bennett Pass. I have to say that this section was The Most Challenging piece of hiking I have ever encountered. I had done some pretty tricky scrambling up and over rocks, and walked some pretty steep terrain, but this was extremely hard going and it felt as though it would never end. The narrow path, covered in loose gravel that was inclined to roll under foot if you didn’t play close attention, ascended sharply and mercilessly. We were walking up the side of a mountain, which disappeared down into the valley below us. No place for switchbacks here. I concentrated on watching my feet, and trying to control my breathing and didn’t look up or down without first stopping and standing steadily. I was proud of my legs that day.
Once at the top of the pass the reward was evident all around me, in every direction. Sitting down, protected from the gusting wind by a couple of courageous shrubs, I caught my breath.
After a few minutes we heard voices the sound of horses coming up that treacherous path. Four beautiful and sweating horses and their chatting, obviously skilled, riders appeared. I was quite amazed by this. The group consisted of a young woman whose family has a cattle ranch not far from the park. Her companions were three men, 2 were Israeli and one was Argentinean. Her family had, over the years, often had foreign agricultural students come and work on the ranch in the summer. This was Sunday. Perhaps she was taking them on an adventure on their day off.
However we were not yet on top of a high point on the ridge, and that was where we planned to have lunch. The journey continued a little further. The ridge itself was broad and fairly flat, and I felt like one of the little people in Gulliver’s Travels walking on the back of a giant whale or something.
Up we went to the appointed summit, which was neither broad nor fairly flat, and with little protection from the fierce wind. There is something frighteningly overwhelming for me about being up so high with vast mountains and valleys literally as far as the eye can see. The impulse to shut out the experience and move swiftly down to lower ground is strong. I remember experiencing this the last time I was in Waterton, and the sense of disappointment I felt afterwards knowing that I hadn’t had the courage to let the immensity of it really penetrate. This time I wanted to do it differently so I sat there for quite a while, speaking to Eric about the experience. I feel as though by being up there I must confront my mortality, my ultimate human frailty. I feel so small and powerless against the huge forces of nature. It’s as though in this place I come face to face with and must acknowledge a truth that isn’t very visible to me when I’m in my ordinary life.

We could have continued on and done a circuit but there was a particularly rough section coming up and we didn’t know quite what to expect, so decided to go back the way we had come. It had been challenge enough.

The next day we rested and later in the afternoon took a drive to Red Rock Canyon. On the way we were lucky enough to see a mother bear and a cub feeding quite close to the road. She seemed anxious and alert, not really happy to have us viewing her, being a protective mother bear, and putting on weight ready for the winter.