Piegan Pass the very hard way.  Bonus:  Bear Scare!

Spoiler alert: I didn’t make it. But it is a great story, nonetheless. And no, I didn’t see any bears. But trust me when I say they saw me—all of them.

So I had to take a rain day. A day when it was so wet and miserable, even Dave wouldn’t hike. I heard the first drops hit the cabin’s metal roof just after 4 a.m. And they didn’t stop for seven hours. After a quick break, it rained another 3. All told, we got over an inch.

So, what does a rainy day look and sound like? Well, here is a quick video of what I watched and listened to from the front deck of my summer cabin accommodations here on the East Side of Glacier Park. Yep. Sure, it sucks to be me.

Rain Day!

I should have a weather window from early morning until about two PM before the next band of weather pushed through. It is a little tight, but that should give me time to hike up to Piegan Pass (and maybe Cataract Mtn?). At 16 miles round with 3,000+ gain, I would have to really move. The AM started GREAT.

Make it a good day.

Of course, I had to confirm my numbers at the reader board. The last time I went from Many Glacier to the pass was 38 years ago. And because of the pain, my mind has blocked out most of the memory. But I have come down it several times. And if I recall, those miles really suck regardless of direction. So excited!

With a board like this, you can’t say you didn’t know it would suck.

I took an upper trail I’d never been on before. It’s on the west side of the valley and should give me some views that will be new. It also has a nice, gentle gain for the first 1,000 feet over several forested miles. It’s always good to burn out some of that nasty up early.

Muddy trail

Now this was a surprise. Beargrass in bloom. This is a July thing. But it speaks to the early heat of spring and this hefty dose of June water. This will be an exciting season indeed, especially for the wildlife.

First Beargrass sighting!

Not the most beautiful of blooms. But it’s a VERY early example nonetheless. Small fact: bears don’t eat these, and they are not grass. Actually, they are a member of the Lilly family. It was Lewis and Clark who miss-named them.

A little lean.

So yesterday was all rain. The trail is an undisturbed palate of mud. Bears are not nocturnal. The sun has only been up for two hours. So these bear tracks are VERY fresh. A tiny paw overlaying a more giant print going the other way. Like an enormous sow Grizzley walking down the trail with her cub running circles around her feet. Great.

Bear tracks?

I guess this is how the people felt when they discovered the first Bigfoot prints. But besides doing beef jerky commercials, Sasquatches are not known to kill people. Bears did not get that memo.

Grrrrrr.

So the next mile was a lot of noise making. Calling out ‘Hey bear, you there? I’m here so don’t fear. I just want to say. I admire your sway’

Or something like that. I was scared, after all. And used my little girl voice. But at least the fog was burning off quickly.

Fading fog.

I’d never seen Grinnell Pt from this perspective. It was like looking at a whole new group of mountains. Not the ones I’ve been hiking around and over for the last 40 years.

Mr G’s Point.

You know you are the first on the trail when the spiderwebs are still out. Most were still heavy with the humid dew from yesterday’s heavy downpours. Amazing how they caught the morning sun.

Spidey Senses

The wonderful Many Glacier Valley. This is why people have been coming here commercially for over 100 years. Thanks to the lodges and infrastructure built by the Great Northern RR 1910-1915.

Broad valley.

The Grinnell Glacier complex starts to come into view at the back headwall of the valley. Many miles off. I hope the morning stays clear and calm.

Distance headwall.

Wow. This is bear country. Bear-vhana? Bear-shangrla? Bear-haven? I’m still following tracks at this point and expect one around every corner and on every hillside. It’s always nice to take in the mountain scenery with the anticipation of being mauled.

Lush forest.

There were many stretches of trail like this, often 50 or more feet long. Several inches of clear flowing water sometimes turn the walking path into a temporary stream. These mountains were shedding all of the stormwater like the tears of a prostitute paid in penny rolls.

Walking on water.

Then I hear a great rumbling. LOTS of water. What have we here? Oh, yeah, an impassible stream crossing.

Bad crossing.

I’m good, but not that good. All the excellent stepping rocks were under six inches of RUSHING water. The brush is too thick to look for a better crossing up/downstream. There was no way I could wade it barefoot and not be swept away. If I crossed it in boots, they would be soaked for 14 miles.

Unpassable.

Nothing to do but backtrack an entire mile and a half, then lose all the gain I had climbed and cut over to another trail. Did I mention all of this is through Bear Maze? Great.

Wild country.

That’s another reason never to retake this trail. Other than it is poorly maintained, brushy, and washed out. There are TONS of huckleberries on these slopes. And in the places they can’t grow, even more thimbleberries. And who do you think dines on those? Oh. Bears.

August berries.

So now that I have to basically start back at the trailhead and lose all of my miles, I get a little payoff. A picture that I would have missed staying on the high trail. The MG Valley has a picture-perfect reflection on Josephine Lake. I guess that was worth dodging all of the bear prints.

Calm morning.

Ah, well, I guess the bruins were not entirely done with me. As I take the trail along the shores of the lake, I see even more fresh tracks. I think it doesn’t pay to be on the trail first.

Bears everywhere

The problem is, once you see ONE grizzly track, you see ALL of them. Trust me, they were everywhere.

I know they see me.

I keep pushing to the back of the valley. There is much time to make up for now with the little reroute from the temporary water feature that would be down to a crossable level by tomorrow. But I’m here today. To see some of the beautiful colors and bands of sedimentary rock on Mt Gould that Glacier is renowned for.

Postcard shot.

Feather Plume Falls drops like a fine thread of water almost 1,000 feet to the valley floor. I come across an incredible meadow that leads to more. Amazing visuals. Comfortable flat walking. I just need to take a few moments and breathe it all in. After all, there’s no one else around to appreciate.

Wispy waterfall.

I’ve hiked through this area many times and just don’t recall this. Most likely because it was a thru-hike over Piegan Pass, and at this point, you just want the journey to be done—clearly, it was my loss. I can see now the valley bottom being a destination hike on its own.

Great meadow walk.

Or maybe a video. Let this place speak for itself.

One of my favorite valleys.

I could make a camp, sit in the shade, and thumb through a good book while watching the wind whip with waterfall for hours. And just smile in the quiet solitude of the little wilderness envelope I’ve created for myself. Oh, and set up a screen room. The bugs were nasty (at least this early in the spring).

A long ribbon of water.

Now, we come to a REAL stream crossing. Flowing straight off the glaciers, this milky torrent was moving a lot of water quickly and loudly.

Keeping the feet dry.

Wow. The power of this icy flow was shed directly from the mountains themselves. I would not want to fall into this.

Power of nature.

But let me share the experience.

Do not fall in.

At last, the headwall at the end of the valley. The first glimpse of Morning Eagle Falls, and up behind it lies Mt Piegan and Piegan pass in the lowest saddle to the left. About three miles and some good up, and I’m there!

Winter’s willows had not budded out yet.

I’ve never seen the falls flow like this. But then again, I have never been at the back of this valley this early in the spring.

Morning Eagle Falls

Huh. The NPS pulled the bridge over Cataract Creek for the season and is waiting for more melt and flow reduction to put it back. I would find out later that this was signed on the part of the trail I didn’t hike. The one with all of the bears. Those furry tricksters got me again!

No Bridge for You!

Hmmmm. Well, it’s much too wide to jump over. And I don’t like how the stream has undercut that snowbank.  Rats.

I should have done the long jump in high school.

Looking upstream doesn’t appear to show much promise for a crossing either. And that water is moving.

Or not.

Downstream is much wider to cross and even worse. Again, a lot of water. But look how green that stuff is! If you’re going to make an omelet, you’ve got to break some …….

No crossing today.

Wait a minute. What is that? Is nature to give me back what humankind has so thoughtlessly and cruelly taken away? Is that my person Bridge to Terabithia? Bridge Over the River Kwai?

Might be crossable.

Ah, I think this might be my A Bridge Too Far. Hmmmm. If I estimate the square footage and factor in the inch+ of water it supported yesterday during the rains……

That means at 8.34 pounds per gallon, a quick man of about 160 pounds could safely and surely ……

Die without being able to push the SOS button on his Zoleo.

Only for those with nerves of steel.

This looked much, much worse in person. Even as a younger Dave, I would not have gone for it. Pretty sure. But if I did, it would have definitely been in tennis shoes, cut-off jean shorts, and a muscle shirt.

How many of us can even remember our teens?

But once again, here, you be the judge.

Not even in my bold youth!

Time to head back. I like doing Piegan Pass from the other side, anyway. It’s 50% less mileage and 30% less gain. So, as I meander back to the trailhead, I divert by Lake Grinnell for a change of approach scenery. I was amazed to see this field of wildflowers already starting to bloom.

Wildflowers are starting early.

Now THAT is a suspension bridge. Nice of the NPS not to roll it up and put it aside. Amazing how high the water is. By August, you can walk across this and only get your ankles wet.

That’s a LOT of sag.

Grinnell Lake does not pop in photos from the shoreline, as well as when you are climbing up the Grinnell Glacier trail on the far side of the valley. And get about 1,000 feet above it. But I found the area back flooded by the spring melt-off with some ice under the water’s surface. You be the judge.

Mirror, Mirror…..

Play with the clouds, and I think it gives a lot of texture to the reflection. In kind of an eerie and spooky way.  But it’s different and cool, nonetheless.

Weird ice patterns.

And who doesn’t like waterfalls? Those dropping out of the Grinnell Glacier complex are just incredible with the runoff from the heat of early spring. Watching and listening as it roars through the entire valley is incredible.

All that water has to go somewhere.

Whoa!  Almost forgot.  I didn’t feel like pulling out the stick.  My hat looks really big.

Talking about ….  nothing!

Aw, come on, man! Why can’t the bears leave me alone? I was really exhausted after this hike. It wasn’t the double-digit miles. It wasn’t all the gain won, then lost, and then won again.

It was just the horrible waiting. I could only use one trekking pole most of the hike because I kept my other hand (and thumb) on my bear spray trigger.

Enough with the bears already!

But I made it out alive. A little wet. A little muddy. A little sore and stiff. But that pretty much comes with the territory. I didn’t want to drive down to an employee dining hall to have whatever the ‘cook’ dumped out of a Sysco # ten can. So, I kept to the basics I had lying around the cabin.

Dinner of Champions.

Some light reading (and a few carrots), and I went to sleep happy with dreams of Bugs Bunny. GoatRabbit out!

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