Beyond the Triple Divide
06/22/04
The Continental Divide is a geographic construction designed to describe which way water will fall, and ultimately which ocean that water will eventually reach. Generally in North America, the choices are the Pacific Ocean (west) and the Gulf of Mexico/Atlantic (east).

Today we came up and over Triple Divide Pass, which is just below Triple Divide Peak, the only place I know of on the Divide that the waters head to three oceans, adding the Arctic Ocean, via Hudson Bay, to the earlier choices.

And so was our day. We set out from Red Eagle Lake at 8:15 AM, our earliest starting time yet. We passed lots of flowers in bloom, especially the yellow glacier lilies. There are SO MANY of these lovely, delicate flowers in bloom all over the place. We first passed through the glacial valley that held the Red Eagle Lake, then began our climb into the giant cirque to the north of Triple Divide Peak.

As is customary and expected, the amount of snow increased as we ascended. The trail astutely negotiated geological/glacial shelves that stepped up into the cirque. When we got into the last one,the trail could have been in one of two places, to our left or up above. The distinctive line of snow to our left looked more promising. Apple Pie and Gottago headed up there while Spur and I consulted the maps. In the end, we were pretty sure the trail was above us, but by then the other two were so far along, we didn't want to call them back. Unnecessary snow travel was not appreciated.

We should have called them back.

Instead, we followed them toward ever-increasingly steep snow field which ended in a near-vertical transition from soft snow to loose rock with snow-broken trees. And no trail. Gottago said, "I can't go back," which I took as that it wasn't possible, and that another solution was necessary. While we were searching for the trail, Gottago said, "What about up there?" So I headed there, never mind that it was a full rock climbing scramble into low, alpine pine trees with tufts mountain goat fur caught in them. I was going to give two even whistle blasts when I found the trail. But I had to find the trail first. I was pushing through dense pine trees, at times crawling on all fours to get through the dense, low forest.

Then I found a place where I could carefully walk on top of the trees. It may SOUND very Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but it was not graceful.

At some point I realized that I was just trying to find a way out of this tangle of trees on the mountainside. After I got out, I could find the trail. I made my way with increasing ease as I moved on, eventually emerging where the gnarled mess intersected with a scree field and a snow field. I spied an open spot below me, and targeted it. I made it, then spotted an even larger open space which I worked toward. The goal was to get somewhere other than where I was. When I reached the larger open space, I dropped pack. As I weightlessly staggered around celebrating reaching my goal, I saw the trail in front of me. And it was full of water. Which was good, because I was out of water and the sun was beating down. I tooted my whistle, pumped some water, then began looking for them. I walked over to where I could view the retreat path, but didn't see them. So I ate, whooped, and whistled. Returing to the viewing place, I finally saw them retreating. Soon we were reunited and hiking again toward Triple Divide Pass.

The Pass called for photos. While we were finishing up, we saw a big horn sheep bounding down a snow field, but it was acting really weird. It would stop bounding and turn around, jump around a little, then freeze.

Then we saw why. There was another male sheep up on the ridge which divided two of the three basins. Here's what I saw: The older sheep had enough experience to know not to be afraid of us in the context of bounding mindlessly into the wrong basin. The younger sheep came back up and joined the older sheep, and they made their way toward their intended destination, the basin to our right. Very interesting.

Mountain sheep on Triple Divide Pass

We descended along a very interesting trail. We saw a lot of female sheep, including a baby, on the way down. We also had a few hairy snow crossings, one close to a waterfall, which had undermined the snow we were walking on. In another spot, the trail went through a snow cave which had a waterfall in it.

Gottago hiking past some falls.

We rolled into a designated camp site to cook dinner. The toilet had a great grizzly print on the side of it, and a grumpy family who was out to have a good time, as long as they controlled it. As we were leaving, two guys from the Grizzly DNA Project rolled into camp. I chatted with them a bit. They included an interesting bit of information: They'd just spent 3 hours watching a grizzly sow nursing three cubs right near our intended campsite a few miles away. They suggested being really loud.

So Apple Pie and I hiked together and ahead of the other two, happy for the opportunity to be loud and obnoxious. It's during this stretch of trail that the East Indian couple bickering really began. I took the role of a traditional, sexist, know-it-all, husband. Apple Pie was the wife who knew her role, but still had a wicked tongue. When ever we get into this setup, we always have to stop because we are laughing too much to hike.
We arrived into the Morningstar Campground, which we were told was in winter conditions, to find it in semi-winter conditions. We could hang our food at a safe height, and we could easily camp on the ground, not snow. Yes there were still piles a snow about, but it was not bad.

And the sow and her cubs were not to be found. I slept out.
- posted by Monkey Mind @ 11:03 PM