Bonus Miles Because of a Moose
6/20/04
We set out from Many Glacier later than we had planned because of our discussions last night. I grabbed a quick breakfast in the restaurant, and, in dry shoes and with two trekking poles in hand, made my way around the lakes and into the mountains. A couple of hours later, I finally remembered to take a break. Gottago caught up, then Apple Pie. I continued on, leaving the two of them, but I soon saw Gottago moving through the trees behind me.

I came to a river crossing with a snow bridge. The snow started consistently covering the ground across the river. I looked around a bit, eventually doing some backtracking to find the corridor through the trees most likely to be the trail. Gottago caught up, and we continued. Finding the trail as it moved away from the river and the falls was much more difficult with the snow obscuring the tread. Apple Pie had caught up by this point, with reports of seeing a moose, which was exciting for her until it got too close. Fear of being moosed caused her to give up on her polite waiting for Spur.

We were sure of where the trail was on the map, but unsure in the territory itself. A snow chute provided an easy way up. It was easy only in that there were no trees or rocks. The steep part was not easy. It was do-able, but not easy. Since we had no way of knowing how far up we had to go, I can't say that it was a third of the way up that we decided to stop to wait for Spur, but you get the idea.

Standing on a steep snowy slope in hiking clothes on a stormy day turned out to not be a riotous good time, so I moved into the trees to get out of the easy wind. The wait continued until we agreed that action should be taken.

Gottago's image of Cupcake in the trees, waiting

We walked up the slope a bit more, discovering the trail in the process. Gottago and Apple Pie thought Spur might have been moosed, or worse. I didn't know what had happened to him, but was pretty sure it was not dire.

I dropped my pack, grabbed some snacks and my poles, and headed out to look for Spur, leaving Gottago and Apple Pie tucked under a tree for rain protection. They were on the trail and could see the chute. We agreed that I would go as far back as what we were calling the moose meadow.

My problem was that I could miss Spur, since the snow made many routes possible. I decided to take the trail itself, which was difficult to discern from below, but easy to follow from above. Down, down, no Spur. To the snow bridge, no Spur. But there was a day hiker who'd been with Spur when he was trying to pick up the trail at the snow bridge. He said Spur decided to go back to the lake to look for us more than an hour before.

Ug and yeah. At least I had information. Packless, I hiked with ease and speed. I passed the moose meadow, down, down, down.

Finally, I ran into Spur, who had given up on finding us, written notes and left word about his plans, and continuing his hike. He was glad to see me. We flew back up, up, up.

We ran into Gottago and Apple Pie on their way back down to find us. Apple Pie was wearing my pack on her front, and her pack on her back. They'd left the bear canisters under the waiting tree. They were concerned that we'd both been eaten.

After all parties and their gear were reunited, we continued up a steep bushwack, with Spur leading the way. We climbed through and around, like the animals do, so that we could avoid the steep snow that was everywhere else.

Then, like a switch was flipped, we entered snow-free tundra. This spectacular landscape offered low wildflowers, amazing rocks, and smooth open mountainsides. We made our way through the surreal landscape in awe.

Apple Pie and Spur checking out a wild cirque, just below Peagan Pass.

A creek up there had green and red rock. Up and even more up. Then we crossed Peagan Pass, where we saw prints of bear and other critters. The descent from the pass was a straight shot for a long way.

The other three got ahead when I stopped to filter some water at the bottom. I soon caught up with Gottago. Ambling together through the forest and snow-covered ground, we followed our partners' tracks toward the Going to the Sun highway, our next landmark.

We'd just come up over a small rise when I spotted a large ground bird. I call them all grouse, but I'm not sure what it was. It's most distinctive feature was its red eyebrows. The same type of bird guards a section of trail near the end of the PCT. I was interested in getting a picture, so I tried to lure it closer, and surprisingly, it worked. It came right up to me as I crouched down. As I snapped my last shot, I stood up and proclaimed, "Now, it's going to attack me." Which it did.

The Glacier Attack Bird

This little bird grabbed my windpants and whacked its wings at me. It didn't really hurt, but it felt dangerous and potentially injurious. I tried to shoo it off with my poles, but it would not relent. I eventually got in front of it. Now it was at my heels, occasionally eyeing Gottago, who did not like the idea of being attacked. I had Gottago pass me while distracting our fowl friend. With my speed, poles, and superior size, I managed finally to evade the direct attacks, leading the 'grouse' chasing us in a low-necked posture. As the distance between us and the bird increased, I would nervously glance back to confirm that the defensive football-shaped cutie was backing off. Soon we were in the clear and caught up with Apple Pie and Spur.

We promptly ran into an elk walking up the trail. We tried stepping aside to let it pass, but it could not be fooled into taking the easy way and giving us good photo opportunities. Instead, it disappeared into the woods like only a wild animal can do.

We continued our descent and soon reached the road. The culvert under the road was slippery and creepy the way all damp, forgotten places are.

Our destination was pre-determined by our permit. We reached the campground around 10 PM. We ended our long day by setting up camp in the rain. Luckily, it's not that cold. Good night.
- posted by Monkey Mind @ 10:59 PM