Sperry Chalet in early May. Great. If goats float your boat.

If you don’t like mountain goats or blood, I suggest you skip this post. But I know you won’t—at least not my real followers.

I’m only here for five mandatory training days as a returning Red Bus driver. So it was funny that as I was trying to sneak in a couple of miles before and after class, we got a day off in the middle of the week. And there is no way I will let that go to waste.

But I’m still stuck in the Lake McDonald Valley. I don’t want to drive anywhere because of all the construction delays, which means Sperry Chalet is the only real option for this unexpected windfall of free time to hike.

I’ve done this a couple of times in the spring (and in the summer of years past), but at 12 miles round with 3500+ feet of gain, it will at least burn up a good part of a day off. Patrick was up for it, and with two people making noise, a 6:30 am start seemed appropriate.

The first miles are typical for this valley. Wooded with a lot of forest fire burn. But since this is May, the trail crews are still a few weeks from coming out. Which means lots of dodging left, right, over, and through the many dead falls and tree clusters across the trail.

Not that I have a problem with trail obstacles. But when you are grinding out this kind of gain, the awkward stepping and stretching can be a pain. When you walk over multiple downed tree trunks with all sorts of sharp, broken branches, you better bring your best balance game.

Well, let’s just say I didn’t. I miss-timed a step on a set of raised logs, lost my balance, caught a nasty spin, and came crashing down pretty hard. Not only knocked a little wind out of me, but also set off the telemetrics in my phone. My S22 has a SOS setting I must have forgot about, and in the event of a hard impact (aka auto accident), it fires off a emergency message.

So my phone is going off, making my watch go off, and I’m thinking it’s my satellite Zoleo sending out a help message to the NPS and local search and rescue. I extract myself from the tangle of broken timber and limbs, figure out how to turn all of this crap off, and get some air back in my lungs. But now I have a new ‘first blood’ for the 2024 hiking season.

We continued to climb the trail, and the cloudy morning I had been hoping for turned to blue skies and early mountain heat. With about a mile and a half and 1200 feet to go, we start to encounter the late spring snow on the trail.

I found some traces of my mountain goat friends imprinted in the snow from last night’s freeze. I guess they like the NPS trail system, too.

It was only outdone by what I concluded was a medium-sized black bear also using the Sperry Chalet Wilderness Freeway.

Soon, the trail become more snow that dirt/mud. The day is turning out to be amazing, and it is just warm enough to start softening the snow crust. Time to start slipping and sliding away.

We can see avalanche slides and signs of the buried trail we are trying to follow. It slowly wraps its way up to the Chalet. Yeah, we could go cross-country, but the post-holing is not worth the time and effort compared to the established semi-frozen steps we have been following.

There is still some climbing to do. High up in the distant cliffs, we see the structures of the Sperry Chalet Complex (main dorm, dining hall, outbuildings).

Now Patrick had snowshoes slung on his pack and decided this would be a good time to pull them out. The sun was a little more relentless than expected at mid-morning. Of course, I didn’t bring mine to Glacier this spring because… well… I’ve got another half-ton of gear in the back of the Dodge I probably won’t need and didn’t have space.

Now, the bridge across the stream was, well, horrible. The snow still on it was only a foot wide but almost four feet high. And neither of us wanted to walk what is basically a slushie icicle-tight-rope that was melting in front of our eyes. With a almost certain risk of falling into freezing raging spring runoff. But we found a way.

Patrick went one way with his snowshoes, and I picked another that was more suitable for post-holing in boots and gaiters. The snow could have been better. Still I’d only sink and inch to maybe three. With the occasional full leg drop into a hidden treewell that would crush what little manhood I had left from the vasectomy of 2004. As I reached the top of the rise, I saw my namesake.

I’m not sure who was more surprised to see whom. I guess he thought I was the funniest looking mountain goat he had ever seen. Not fur, up on two legs, and some weird appendages, and what’s up with the bucket hat?

I always feel bad for the mountain goats during this time of year. That fur starts coming off in clumps and is miserable to shed. But then again, something is to be said for shedding fifty pound of bulk in the spring with only the aid of the sun and tree bark. With some marketing, who knows?

This little fellow was enjoying rays and giving into a little itch behind the ear. Reminds me of a Labrador Retriever (and forever companion) I once had many years ago. Except for the horns. That would have been weird for a Lab. But very cool at a dog park.

I finish the crest and start walking up to the buildings of the Sperry Chalet. Other than the goats’ tromping, the soft wind between the trees was the only sound. And some odd crunching on the snow, which I assumed was Patrick somewhere out of sight.

It is not hard to see why this was one of the most popular locations of the Great Northern Chalet system in Glacier Park. Even with the valley burned out from the fire several years ago, it is still a magnificent setting with an incredible view.

There were about four or five different goats wandering around. They seemed restless. Bored. Waiting for something to happen. Or maybe for someone to just throw out a twenty pound salt block.

Yes, I am partial to mountain goats. They don’t hibernate. Can climb anything. Wander around the mountains aimlessly. And have those dark eyes that mask a sensitive soul and yearning spirit. Hmmmmm. Maybe it’s a little too close to home.

It’s hard to believe this place will be open and housing guests in about six weeks with full meal service. Mt. Edwards looks a little intimidating with all the snow on it. By mid-summer, it will all be gone, maybe even sooner this year.

I was looking for a spot to sit, lay back, and enjoy some sun. But yet another mountain goat beat me to it.

The sun has melted free the deck on this portion of the dining hall. This was not burned in the fire of 2017. Only the neighboring dormitory would have been a total loss without the infusion of millions of donated dollars. A true phoenix from the ashes.

Finally, he decides to share his space. The goats seem tired and sluggish. They just don’t seem to be fans of the shoulder season between winter and summer. There is definitely a vibe ofwaiting for something.

Don’t walk away mad! You can have the veranda after I’m done with it. I promise.

It seems like a lot of snow to melt before the Chalet opens. And it is. But once that summer sun rises and stays up until 10pm at night, it will all melt away and find its way to Lake McDonald in no time flat.

I lay on my back for a little while and enjoyed the sky. Just watching some high clouds skirt on by—something I haven’t done for probably about fifty years. It was pleasant. And those mid-day rays made that deck nice and toasty.

It was good to know I can still clot blood, as I did in my younger days. This one might scar. You know it’s a deep one when you can feel your heartbeat in it.

This panorama reminded me of a scene out of Stephen King’s classic The Shining. Not the one done by Stanley Kubrick in 1980, But the second adaptation that Stephen King himself wrote and produced in 1997 because he was so dissatisfied with Kubrick’s version. And for some reason I am the only person that saw that one.

I would love to stay at Sperry for a couple of days just to easily access the upper valley behind me. Not only is it four miles of the very best trail in the Park, but you alsoget access to all kinds of peaks that surround the Sperry Glacier complex.

Did I mention there were mountain goats pretty much everywhere we looked? The seems a little bored.

Since I failed to pack snowshoes, Patrick rubbed it in my face a little and scooted off to explore the ridge beyond the Chalet. Always looking for something else to climb. Just as long as he doesn’t go chasing waterfalls.

It’s time to start the trek back down the valley. Only a little more than six miles back to Lake McDonald. And the 3500 feet of drop isn’t all that bad. But the last two miles and 1K are just miserable. They are so incredibly boring you want them to be over with.

Now, every time I see that old vintage logo of the Great Northern Railroad, I’ll think how easy a job the artist had. Yeah, not a lot of imagination. Maybe even a little lazy?

So we bid farewell to the goats of Sperry, and start fighting out way through the next mile plus of wet soggy snow. At least the clouds started coming in, but the damage was already done.

I’ve been to Sperry many times, but this might be one of the best. The quiet beauty of these early season hikes really don’t come out in the photos or the narrative. Even with a scarred up shin, the weather worked out, there was a good dose of solitude, ample wildlife, and trail company was enjoyable. I guess you could say it checked all of the boxes.

Until next time. GoatBoy out!