Slept in til 7:30 this morning. Although the day started out cloudy, it promised to be warm and gradually cleared. We set off for the Many Glacier area of the park, and hiked the Iceberg Lake trail, a 9.8 mile round trip. The trail ascends to a ridge that runs the majority of the trail, and from which you get a panorama view of the mountains and the valley. Along the length of the trail are carpets of wildflowers, red, orange, blue, white, pink. And as you pass through certain areas, the air is filled with the sweet scent of those flowers. Honestly, it’s like a party for your senses: the birds are singing, and the waterfalls echo through the valley, the flowers are often electric in color, the mountains seem as if you could reach out and touch them, and you can smell the dampness in the earth and the sweetness of the flowers around you.
When we went cross-country with Alex in 2000, we hiked this trail. But this time, there was a lot more snow, and snow melt. In many places along the trail, we had to tiptoe over rocks in streams, dodge waterfall spray, or walk over snow pack. In fact, the last ¾ mile of the 4.9 miles in to Iceberg Lake were completely snow covered. Nothing builds up your legs and ankles like walking uphill on slippery snow. For that matter, going downhill is harder. While Iceberg Lake was mostly thawed in 2000, it was completely frozen this year.
On the trail, we met a photographer carrying a huge film camera and tripod (the camera was probably 15” square) and the tripod was gigantic. He had carried the camera and tripod all the way up to Iceberg. When we asked if he was a commercial photographer, he said “No”. He was just photographing for his own personal pleasure. Yikes—now that’s dedication. We also stopped to speak with a young couple carrying a baby in a backpack. Man, we had trouble staying upright on the snow just by ourselves. And I wouldn’t want to be carrying a baby as I edged along a drop off while stepping through a stream. Also on the trail, one group of hikers pointed out bears high up on the mountain, and others noted mountain goats. But both sightings were well up in the higher elevations.
At the lake, we rested a bit and ate some of the snacks we had packed. As we ate, we heard a thunderous crack, and turned to the place from which the sound had come. A small rock slide started at the top, and we watched as it made its way down the cirque walls. Amazing that such a small rock slide could sound that loud. We wondered what the big ones sound like…
As we made our way back from the Lake, the skies began to darken. We had been told by a ranger that thunderstorms were moving this way. With about 2 miles left to go, it started to rain—not torrential, just big fat drops in a light rain. Since it wasn’t cold (temps were in 70s) it wasn’t any big deal. All in all, it was a great time.
Since we had no more “dinner food” back at the cabin, we treated ourselves to dinner at a local restaurant. This restaurant has been in St. Mary for over 50 years, and has that feel as well. They had home style food, well made, and in generous proportions. And the restaurant had killer views to boot. We went back to the cabin to clean up and crash, when we heard the sounds of fireworks. We opened the door, stepped out, and looked up to see fireworks erupting in the sky over the campground. A fitting end to the day. Happy Independence Day!
See photos of the day here.
No comments:
Post a Comment