Iceberg Lake goes stealth. Bullwinkle gets a backrub.

Anyone who has been to the East Side of Glacier Park will have hiked (or at least tried) to Iceberg Lake. It is a classic cirque lake, located on the back side of the Garden Wall (AKA the Continental Divide). It gets hits HARD in the summertime. Start too late in the day and you will NEVER be out of sight of another hiker (more likely a group of hikers, very LARGE groups) for the entire five miles in. Crazy. And good luck trying to capture a picture without a couple-dozen people photobombing your shot on the shoreline.

After being completely stormed out yesterday, my goal today was to just get as far as I could before weather the weather caught me. Clouds were swirling, the rain was buffeting, and the trail was still snowed over. A little rare for this late in June, but it has been a very cold and wet spring all over the Northwest.

I was prepared for snow. My climbing boots to kick in steps, aluminum crampons, light travel ice ax, and double bear spray cans. Too many close calls last year. This is what my pack looked like.

A couple of people stopped at the trailhead while I was gearing up. One look at my pack and correctly figured this was not one to take the family on. Now and then pseudo hiker tourists do choose wisely.

Grinnell Point was touching the clouds, and it didn’t look too bad.

But I had to go much much deeper into the valley, it looked ugly.

Looking towards Swiftcurrent Pass, it was looking REALLY ugly. This might be a short day (which isn’t a bad thing, since I had a 6-hour drive home still ahead of me).

After the first quarter mile, I came to my senses and ripped out my iPod ears. I needed to be VERY alert on this trail. It was morning, raining, and the first person of the day. There will be animals, and some you simply do NOT want to accidentally walk up on. Awareness is key. As I found out when I got about two miles down the valley.

I knew there had to be an animal down there. And sure enough, I see my first bull moose of the season.

I thought he was just eating. After watching for a few minutes, I could tell he was rubbing his back against a small fallen tree. Taking a couple of grazing bites side to side when it felt good. Old Bullwinkle was just having a nice little spa moment down there in the forest below.

That inspired me to take a short video. I didn’t talk over it, because I wanted to capture the sounds of the early morning hillside as it was waking up for the morning. It is a little grainy, but you’ll see why when I pan back the last 15 seconds of the video and you can take in the entire grandeur of the valley.

Every seasonal stream crossing the trail was a raging torrent. Most of the trail was a running river as well. Not for the casual summer hiker for a couple more weeks.

Ptarmigan Falls was raging. I’ve never seen anything like it. The rocks were rain-slick and smooth as ice. They always lose a couple of people here every other year. You have to be careful around water in Glacier. It takes but never gives back.

At the bridge over Ptarmigan Falls, there is a trail closure sign for snow hazards. The trail only got wetter, more snow-covered, and had lots of steep hillside traverses. Perfect!

Wasn’t long before it was full of snow. There were some blurred melted-out steps and not a lot of them. Only a few hardy souls have been this far this season. I could kick in steps where I needed but kept my ice ax in one hand on the steeper slopes with the long run-outs that ended in sharp rock fields.

I kept my eye on the prize. Still in rain, but it came and went. Iceberg was socked in clouds, but we’ll see how far I can get.

Goofy Dave, keeping dry with my rain poncho/ pack fly. There was little to no wind, which was nice.

Coming up on the final approach to Iceberg Lake. Ahead is the melt pond just before the main lake. The snow route I was on stayed high and may have even cut a half mile off from the summer hiking trail.

I keep climbing. Finally, above the melt pond and approaching the actual lake.

At last, the place where Iceberg Lake should be. If it wasn’t snowed over and ice over and just covered up for the season still. The rocks indicate where the shoreline should be.

And then came the spiritual part. One of those times when Glacier gives me that sign that all the effort was worth it and she shares a special moment that is just for me.

Here is a little voice-over video of just the Lake itself. Take note of the sparkles in the air. Yeah, it was a great feeling in a great place. I’m glad I was there. Even more glad to be able to share.

Now, since I’m trying to get into tour guide mode, here is the same Lake shot with Jammer Dave. I forgot my selfie stick, so try to look past my big bulbous nose.

The longer I was up there, the bigger sun spot I stood in. Just so surreal. I’ve never seen the lake like this. I’ve never been close to being alone in this majestic place. The silence, the sun, the ice crystals in the air, everything just came together. It was for no one else but me. First the rainbow, and now this. I could end the season now and be so far ahead. My emotional gas tank filled.

Time to start back down. Still a long drive home. I was surprised I goy to the lake and didn’t have to put on my crampons. I look off to see the Ptarmigan Tunnel valley banking off to the left. Even the hook nose of Mt Henkel peeks out of the clouds to say Hi.

Now heading out, I regretted making such great kick steps in the snow thru the steeper banks. Because I come across one couple using them. Stopped and talked for a bit. Then another couple. Then a group of four. By the time I hit the falls, more people were still. I had my moment. Time to just smile, say a little thanks for the gift, and just shut out the shit show.

And I found out why the crowds were suddenly erupting. When I got back to the main (snow-free) trail, the path was drying in the new sun of a wonderful morning.

I still had to take one look back.

This is why I love this valley so much. When the skies open there is no place like it in the world.

The tourist hikers were out in force by the time I hit the trailhead. Passed dozens and dozens of people. All the animals were gone. The parking lot is full. My time was done. And such a special trip this was. Maybe I’ll come back later in the season when the wildflowers come in. Probably take a trip over to the tunnel.

All in all a great day.