Matahpi – the Second date is always the best!
Original Date: 8/8/2023
Matahpi Mtn is a nice 9400-footer, sharing a saddle with Going to the Sun Mtn. If you remember, I tried climbing this peak two seasons back while driving the shuttle. I was lean, mean, and knocked out 450 miles that summer. But I was denied this peak because I ran out of time. I came 200 feet just short of the summit cap, turning back to make my work shift.
After squandering all that cartilage and ligament, I return, not to be denied. But this time, a much different approach.
Last time, I took the trail to Siyeh Pass. Then, I went off trail, trying to climb the ridge north of the summit—bad call. With a bit of beta from Patrick, I cut off the main trail before the bear-infested Preston Park. Then, I found the old avalanche slide area that reduced the bushwacking to nothing. This should give me access to the ridge south of Matahpi—a much shorter and more direct approach.
The avalanche side was prominent even in the days of J Gordon Edwards. It serves as an example of how fragile and slow to repair these high alpine areas genuinely are. It was still bare of trees and flora, open, and easy for off-trail travel.
There’s nothing between me and the saddle other than sparse forest and some cliffs I’ll need to thread a route through. Piece of cake. Bonus: I’ll be in the shade until late morning!
I kept hearing noises like cawing birds to the forest clump over to the left. It sounded weird. I stayed in the middle of the clearing just to be safe. Later in the summer, I would find out those strange cawing/whining sounds I heard were actually the calls of a lost bear cub. Great.
I start weaving through the cliffs and look behind to see the peaks of Logan Pass. But there is some fire smoke haze in the air. I hope it won’t be too thick when I reach the summit.
Once I start getting through the last of the stands of wind-beaten alpine firs, I can see the summit cap of Matahpi off to the left. Even from this distance, I can tell this approach to the mountain will be much more mellow than the steep, horrible rock I was on during my previous attempt.
Stromatolites. I love these things. Once I started pointing them out in the rock walls along the Going to the Sun road during tours, I started seeing them everywhere on the trail. Stromatolites are fossilized remains from billions of years ago. A very early form of prehistoric life on earth. Known for turning CO2 into oxygen, they made life for us mammals possible. Very nice.
Now, it’s time to put on my smarty hat and pick a route through the maze of cliffs. And more importantly, mark the path for the descent. Never return from the summit over cliffs you haven’t scouted from below. Of course, I never follow my advice.
I had fun climbing in the shade, making excellent time. When I looked to my right at Going to the Sun Mtn., I remembered Patrick’s question. Why wasn’t climbing Matahpi and GttSun at the same time? Once you are at the saddle, aren’t they both around just a grand of open gain?
As the song goes, here comes the sun. It will take another hour from the saddle to get to the summit. This is the main route up Matahpi from all the braided climbing trails. My last attempt was all wrong.
Once on the saddle, the views break open. I can look down into the Sexton Glacier complex (well, what is left). The moraine and the ablation zone are all just shadows from the last significant ice event. Across the valley, my old friend and monster, Goat Mtn. That was one big climb.
Directly behind me in the early morning haze are Heavy Runner and Reynolds. Off to my left are Piegan and Pollock. I am looking forward to the Matahpi summit, for which I have been waiting for so long.
Looking back, it is amazing how that avalanche slide has stayed open all these years and has yet to be taken back by the forest. The peaks of the Lewis and Livingston range extend far out into the haze.
The ridge leading up to the summit was simple and direct. There are no crazy cliffs to weave through and dodge. No exposure. No ankle-rolling boulder fields. It completely differed from the opposite side I tried to power through last time. And the sun was at my back!
A wonderful panoramic from the top. A sea of peaks, with solitude and quiet moments to think, ponder, and breathe.
It is a beautiful broad summit with few peaks to obscure or block the views. Below to the left is Piegan Pass, which I have enjoyed often. Directly ahead is the backside of the Mt Siyeh massif, with that incredible diorite sill. There is nothing like one single band of basalt in all of those thousands of feet of ancient seabed sediment.
Looking to the south is the St Mary Valley. Sexton Glacier is far below. And, of course, Going to the Sun Mtn, which is not more than a couple hundred feet higher than where I am standing. It’s barely late morning. I could still climb it, but I need the proper mindset. And to be honest, I would like a day when the skies were clearer.
Off in the distance is the Boulder Creek drainage, which takes all the water from the Mt. Siyeh environs. Directly ahead is that miserable ridge I climbed last time, trying to reach this summit. What a bad idea.
Logan Pass. You can see the boardwalk leading up to the Hidden Lake Overlook. With perfect eyes, you can see thousands of people on it on any given summer day.
Going to the Sun Mtn is definitely on the list for this summer. It’s such an iconic peak. Even though it was misnamed. Going to the Sun is just a name the NPS came up with. It’s actually named Matahpi (the mountain I am on now), after a Blackfeet spiritual figure. Yep, it was a map-making mistake from a century ago that continues to this day.
I love Zoleo. A two-way satellite communicator that will sync with my phone allows me to send text and email messages by satellite. AND converse in real-time with emergency providers if I trigger an SOS. That people can track me and live vicariously is just a bonus.
I am taking my time on the summit. I still have half a day left to burn. Maybe see who I can send an email to from up here?
Of course, I have to shoot a quick video before returning to the truck.
On the descent, I find a thin climbing passageway that seems like a bad idea, regardless of experience. I’m sure Patrick climbed through it. After all, he’s not one to turn down shortcut.
Back at the saddle, I trace the climbing route up Going to the Sun. I would have gone for it if it had been a blue-sky day. But I’ve got a few more weeks left this season to work it into the hiking schedule.
Again, from the saddle, looking back up at Matahpi. It was such an easy up from this side. It was such a horrible ridge walk from the other side. Live and learn. Off in the distance, Siyeh Pass.
Sexton is a former shadow of itself. This ice pocket carved out the enormous valley before me, most likely due to several major glacial events.
Back through the meadows formed by the avalanche slide of decades ago. Easy walking with good views. I really couldn’t ask for more.
Getting back to the truck, I take one last look. Only 3500 of gain and about six hours round trip. It’s a nice half-day with some time to relax at Beargrass. It is a good life.
GoatBoy out!
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[…] the most forward point of Heavy Runner, there is a marvelous view of the twins: Matahpi and Going to the Sun. Two 9K plus mountains. I will know both intimately before the end of this […]
[…] use a familiar approach – the saddle between Matahpi and Going to the Sun. Both Patrick and I climbed Matahpi earlier this season (on separate occasions). But this time, instead of keeping an eye on the little bump to […]