Dave’s Direct to Swiftcurrent melted out early. Dave is sad. Very sad.

Original Date: 6/29/24

A few seasons back, I created a route I like and consider mine. It’s a shortcut to Swiftcurrent Pass, but only passable on the snow (unless you like misery and being whipped like a rented donkey). I call it Dave’s Direct. And it’s definitely an early-season option only if the weather cooperates.

That said, I don’t know why I thought I could pull it off the last couple of days in June, other than hubris, with an extra shot of arrogance to make it go down smoother, or just wanting to make something happen because we all know how wishes come true (and the internet is full of truth).

So off I charge to the back of the Swiftcurrent Valley. While twelve pounds of gear I don’t need clanks like a cowbell on my pack. I brought along my old Black Diamond ice axe, which is super heavy, but at 75cm, it is a great height for my frame and better for self-arrest. But I should have been arrested for thinking, “No worries, Dave. You can pull this off before JULY!!”.

When you look back into the valley and don’t see all that wonderful spring snow on the peaks, you can be sure you won’t find much in the gullies (regardless of how shaded). Which is the only way to make my route work (and enjoyable and safe). But Dave is forever the optimist (at least when outdoors). I couldn’t ask for a more significant character flaw in GNP.

The cascading falls flowing off the Swiftcurrent Glaciers are torrents and move a LOT of water; the melt is full on for the season. The Devil’s Elbow is living up to its name, and the Glory Trail is not so glorious.

There is still some good snow clinging to Heavy Shield Mountain, so that’s a plus. But the trail is bare, and I should be on three feet of the white stuff at this elevation. Sure. It’s beautiful. But it’s not going to get me where I need to be.

I come to where Dave’s Direct is supposed to start. The entire gully should have about twenty feet of snow bridging the raging waters. No quick and easy climb straight up—maybe next season.

I find myself walking the trail for the first time in many years. Parts of it were obscured with runoff and lingering fingers of snow, so I really had to pay attention. Remember that I’m not much of a trail guy, except when trying to make lots of miles.

I noticed something different at the pass. For as long as I can remember, a giant rock cairn has always existed. And I couldn’t figure out why passing hikers would bother to pile rocks that high. The pass has no views and is filled with trees. Why take the time??

Now I know. I’ve done several posts on the summit bells placed by the Great Northern Railroad on a handful of mountain passes in the 1920s. They wanted to copy the Swiss hiking tradition of ringing a bell as you crossed over a central valley. Swiftcurrent was one of these passes. All the bells were removed in the 1940s. In part for WWII scrap metal and also because the NRP never sanctioned them to be installed. Win/win.

Now, I realize that the giant cairn I have walked by for the last four decades had a secret in its core: the old base for the 150-lb railroad bell. Someone decided to uncover it and pay homage to Glacier history. It is hard to believe the wood base for the bell has not rotted, nor havethe bolts rusted away in the last 100 years.

At least Heavens Peak showed me a little of that winter joy I sought. It is a glorious-looking mountain before the heat of July and August blazes away winter snow. As if something was torn from the pages of a Swiss Alps travel magazine.

Of course, I finally found my snow patches, but they didn’t give me the shortcut I was counting on. At this point, I encountered a lot of tourists coming out of Granite Park Chalet. My timing had been off this entire hike, and it was time to pay in full.

The climb up to the Swiftcurrent Fire Lookout went without drama. I was passed by an unusual number of people already going down. They did not come up from the valley, and all looked much rested. No one even said ‘hi’ to me.

 

 

I’ve always found it weird when you’re on a summit, and somebody else comes up and sits three feet from you. But nobody talks. I don’t know. That’s Stranger Danger at 9000 feet (ah, great band name). But as long as they stay out of my pictures, I’m usually pretty comfortable with being ignored. For example, when I’m sitting at home, and Nancy is scrolling her phone.

The SWC FLO is simply incredible. Amazing stonework. Unbelievable woodwork. It is very well maintained and something that comes out of the pages of a history book. It was restored in the 1980s and made the cover of National Geographic (yes, I have it).

 

For unknown reasons, there were a lot of marmots around. Now, the marmots and I do not get along and have a rich history of intolerance. I have documented that with much detail in a prior post. I wouldn’t call it a blood feud, but some inner-species hostility continues.

 

 

The first time I was up at SW Pass was my first time in the Park as an employee. That was 1985, and I was just nineteen years old. I sometimes wonder what kind of knowledge Old Dave could give Young Dave, like if I traveled back in time to this peak and could only impart one bit of wisdom.

I think it would be this: Never fart on a public bus without an old person or a child to blame it on. I know that knowledge could have changed my life.

I’ve said time and time again that the headwall of the Swiftcurrent Valley does not get near the credit or attention it should. A couple of glaciers feed tremendous cascades that fall off beautiful cliffs to the green, ardent valley below. Which has lots of huckleberries. And many bears to eat them. Plus a large moose population. And even a very quiet (but healthy) wolf pack. Shhhhhhh.

Even the valley floor miles are beautiful. At least it’s much more beautiful now than in early May. That’s when I would describe this Garden of Eden as just plain scary. Those cougars don’t hibernate and work the lower elevations, especially when the first snow melts off.

It’s not July yet, and I spot the first struggling bear grass bloom. Come on, little fella, you can do it. And wake up your friends while you’re at it!

What better way to end a great hiking day with sore feet than to have the old Dodge come into view? Yes, good old BASEKMP herself (yeah, that’s the license plate).

 

She’s been well-kept. Garaged. Maintained to a T. No fluid leaks of any kind. So, of course, I should have expected that if I parked too close to the brush in the parking lot, a couple of guys would naturally have to piss on it.

This is why humanity is doomed and global warming is occurring. The planet has finally figured out it doesn’t need us and why we don’t deserve good things. What is so hard about peeing in the bushes?

GoatBoy….. Disappointed in mankind. And out.