We wake at 6 and pack for a long day. Well, we woke and packed, the rest came to us later. Tom drove the hour to get to Lake McDonald inside West Glacier NP, hoping to catch an early bus up to Logan's Pass. While approaching the lake we pass a shuttle, and it happens to be our shuttle and to catch we must hurry to the pick-up, which no one knows where it lies. As we pull into the parking lot, there are around 6-7 people waiting at a corner, and we assume this is the pick-up and hurry to it. Turns out, as the shuttle comes by, this is not the pick-up, he just missed his turn and only has room for 3. As the people there start to explain that they have been waiting an hour for a bus because they were misinformed as to the whereabouts of the shuttle pick-up, we assume they are all mostly together and won't fill the 3 seats because they won't want to spit up their crew. We were wrong in this assumption...and now Jeff and I have a price on our heads and Tom, of course, has gotten away scott-free from the angered, lone hiker who we displaced on the first shuttle-run. Let's just hope we don't see him again!
So we ride up to the pass on a tiny little road made in the late 20's. It was really impressive for being that old. We climbed and we climbed, up to Logan's Pass. Once off the shuttle, we started on the Hidden Lake Trail. Here is a little video of the beginning:
I was out of breath from the altitude and the running we were doing. We jogged the last half of the trail down to Hidden Lake, crossed a little river, and circled around to the south side of the lake. Which turns out to be encircled with cliffs. Our Backpacker "Wildest Day hikes in America" guide did not tell us exactly where to go. So as we hike further and further into the dead-end that is the south side of the lake, we see a small window of hope: a waterfall in the southwest corner of the cirque.
Still, the outcome looks bleak. Even if we get through the waterfall, there is no guarantee that we can still scramble up the cleft in the cliff that is hidden from our view. It is a gamble, and we figure we can get a little wet...so we do. The water was...let's just say all the cold showers for the rest of my life have nothing to worry about; they won't even get close. And lo, the cleft was only a class 4 scramble and we were out. Before us lay the biggest, greenest, wettest(?) meadow we have ever seen. Glacier run-off fed scores of tiny streams and created a lush, vibrant underbrush and alpine grass meadow. After doing our best Sound of Music impressions (Jeff's, admittedly, is better than mine), we ate some lunch. I did not eat enough, this would come back to bite me in the arse*.
So we climb to the continental divide (albeit, a little too far to the east). We encounter a large, 2000+ foot cliff. It was surprising in the least, considering we thought we were going to be heading that direction (oh Backpacker, again!). We head back south down the divide and find a point to "drop" into Floral Park. If we had enough of a running start, we probably could have fallen the full 2000 feet right into the park. Instead, once we go down around 500 vertical, we clear the trees and decide to traverse the hill to avoid dropping 300 or so and having to climb it again...
Bad Idea. With Capital Letters. We learned our lesson that day: climbing up and down off trail is 1000 times better than attempted a multi-mile traverse of 40+ degree slopes. We will never forget this lesson, for the pain runs too deep to be washed away by any means.
Once this lesson was learned, we climbed down to Floral Park, and then back up to the glacial plateau that Sperry Glacier was perched upon. At about this time, disaster struck. We had noticed earlier at the Divide that we were taking a long time getting anywhere off trail in this wilderness. Suddenly it was 2pm, and we were completely exposed on the glacier, at 8000+ feet, with no ability to find cover if any storm where to come upon us. But, that was not the worst part.
Have you ever seen a star athlete cramp up and you just yell at the screen, "Suck it up! I have had cramps in sports before and I just dealt with it!" Well, I now know how it is to have debilitating cramps. Both my quads seized up fully, and no matter how hard I tried to force my way through, it was just not happening. So I rested about 5 minutes and took in some Gatorade, ate some fruit and jerky, and my legs felt better. For another 10 minutes. Then the same thing all over again. 5 min rest and eat and drink, 10 minutes of hiking, cramps again. This went on for a long time. I am stubborn, I refused to admit to injury and just kept forcing myself forwards. After about an hour of slow progress, I finally found a rhythm that allowed me to eat, drink, and walk with only mild cramping. So I went forwards, as time went forwards, in a crawl. Not literally, but effectively enough. 4 o'clock comes and goes, and we are a hundred yards from Corneau Pass. We have seen the thunderstorms building since 3. We blitz the top. The storms pass over us to our North, and we are, for the moment, safe.
Real quick, I know you have been reading a while (hell, we hiked a while, I just am trying to give you a taste of the pain), I would like to tell you a little about when to hike up to a peak or other exposed place like a ridge or a pass: do not attempt to hike up if there are storm clouds coming. Out West, pretty much anytime after 1 and before 6 is off limits. So imagine our surprise when we see 3 groups of people attempting to hike to Corneau Pass when there are storm clouds above. We justify our climb because we had really no choice and had to get off the mountain, but these people were day hiking! Anyhow, do not climb above 8000 feet on exposed ground where there are storm clouds above, it is a bad idea.
So then we start our long, harrowing 10 mile hike out of the park. It was all downhill. Our feet were soaked from snow, runoff, and sweat by this time and had what can only be called trench foot. Every step was painful, and we were totally exhausted. This is also when we had the most danger for running into Grizzly bears. Because the trail was so heavily vegetated, we ran the risk of startling a bear if we were to happen upon it. It was also dusk, so visibility was poor, and we could not see a bear off trail even though we were looking. So we made up "bear songs." Basically, normal songs where bear was substituted for random words. Once we were too tired to attempt these mutterings, we would just yell "BEAR!" before every switchback in hopes of alerting any non-informed bear of our approach.
Eventually, we arrive back at the car: bruised, bleeding (I cut my ankle pretty bad on a rock on the glacier), and totally wasted. We then decided not to drive all the way to Seattle that night, and to find a hotel in Kellispiell, MT. First, don't ever get a hotel there in the height of tourist season, because you can't anyway. Second, do get one because they are all staffed by really attractive teenage woman. The long search for a hotel--which we eventually found--was well worth seeing all the good looking help. Sleep was glorious, the shower was better, and I even got a cot for free....God bless Montana.
*for you, Mother
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