The monster of Cutbank: Mt James. Unexpected. Amazing. Just a fun day at high elevation.

The only reason I knew about Mt James (9300) is that it shares the same pass as Triple Divide Mtn which I climbed last summer. I put it on my list because seeing how massive it was from a much much lower peak, I knew that it must have outstanding views. I was not disappointed.

Mt James was named by George Grinnell (Father of Glacier Park) for Dr. Walter R. James of NY. Actually, that is the name he gave to nearby Mt Stimson (one of the 10k footers). But when viewed from the East outside the park, I guess the current Mt James can be confused and the name somehow transferred over. Of course, the Blackfeet called it Lone Chief (Nitaina), but I guess that wasn’t map-worthy. As if this James fellow was. Hmmmm.

The Cut Bank (or Cutbank, I spell it either way) area of Glacier Park is one of the last readily accessible raw and primitive spaces left that you can easily get to by car. That is, if you don’t mind beating up your vehicle on a five-mile washboard gravel road. One which meanders thru open-range county so you need to dodge mindless cows wandering around looking for something to crap on.

And as far as amenities, other than a very old ranger station and a primitive campground that is never open (the closed gate adds a little mileage to any hikes you want to get to), there is nothing there. Consider yourself on your own from everything from potable water to toilet paper. But how much more do you need when good old-fashion peace are in such abundance?

Well, bug spray is a bonus for starters. I’m glad I packed along some. This was an early morning start. Although James was a walk-up climb by all definitions of the word, it was still a LONG LONG walk. I would be pushing a 20-mile day round-trip with 4500 feet of gain. And that takes a lot of time, no matter what kind of shape you are in. In addition to a little cooperation from the weather.

I start with the first rays of morning light after firing up the Dodge in the 4 am hour. Here is a good look at some friends from last summer, Mad Wolf and Bad Marriage mountains.

Why not throw in some shaded wildflowers in the early AM shadows for some contrast?

Atlantic Creek flows softly as the day wakes up. Did I mention the mosquitos were up nice and early as well?

I have the lodge pole forest all to myself. I know when I’m wiping spider webs off my face I’m the first person on the trail this morning. Nice hiking thru the cool air of a bottomland ecosystem on what will be a VERY hot day.

Time to start many miles of open hiking toward Triple Divide Pass. Razor Mtn and some beargrass just past peak bloom coming into view.

But there were a couple still a couple of them in the morning shadows holding onto their fluffy tassels.

The reason for the early AM push was simple. Although I had about seven trail miles (and a couple of thousand feet of gain over it), only the first three or so are in the forest. The rest is across a brutally open stretch. The only shade is the ridge the sun was rising behind. I would have liked to start about an hour earlier and had a little more time in the cool of the morn. But that would mean starting the forest section on a headlamp. In prime bear country. Nope. Not for me.

Medicine Grizzly Lake fills up a cirque far down below the trail. Backlit with Medicine Grizzly Peak and that ridge IS the Continental Divide.

I remember climbing Triple Divide last summer. Doesn’t look so big and bad now.

It still looks a little impressive from the saddle of the pass.

But not near as impressive as Mt James from the SAME saddle. That summit is still another 2000′ above me (and a couple of hours away).

Goatboy shares some thoughts at the saddle before taking the lunge for the summit.

It sure doesn’t take long to dwarf Triple Divide Peak and make it look like a little nubbins. The Mt Norris massif to the right is very daunting. There is a traverse across it I’d like to try one of these days. Pinchot and Stimson (the former Mt James) start to make an appearance in the background.

Even as I climb ever higher, I see that life still tries to find a way to scratch out an existence in the thin air and barren rocky slopes. Look at the new green tassels on that little bitty alpine fir.

Will it make it a couple more years? In a place with a growing season of only six weeks? Will it be wind-beaten ever closer to the ground, as it hangs on winter after winter? Will a goat or sheep snip off the new growth for a snack? Time will tell.

The horizon starts opening up now that I’m gaining some real elevation.

It is still a very long ridge to the summit. James isn’t going to give it up that easily (or quickly).

And it is going to be a long way back down.

Medicine Grizzly Lake from over nine thousand feet.

Goofy Dave from on top of the world.

In case you wanted to hear some of my ramblings. The proverbial Minute in the Sky.

A few more summit shots.

This one is probably my favorite picture of the entire season (so far). But it will be hard to beat.

Sure, this was a long day. I was pushing 10 hours of both on and off-trail travel, always in a constant state of motion (that’s just how I hike when I’m alone – nothing to really stop for). A few moments here and there to look around. But I did something different on this climb. I spent a full HOUR on the summit. I never do that. Always in a rush to get back down. I hate to give the feet a chance to start to throb and sing, or the muscles a hint that the ordeal might be close to being over.

This was a great experience. Simple and clean trail approach. The ridge walk was open with views non-stop. Route finding was simple and took little effort. Everything just flowed. As if all of the stuff I’ve been doing over the last thirty years just clicked in place to make this trip…. well…. enjoyable. No drama. No issues. No life-or-death decisions. Just a nice walk in a nice place. No hurries, no worries, and I had all day to do it. So I used up a pretty good hunk of it.

Even the long hike out was a pleasure. Glacier’s U-shaped and forested valleys never get old.

A climb I can do over and over again. It would be nice to share some of this with other people. Can’t believe with all the millions who visit the park and clog the Sun Road every season, there is still so much of this wilderness where you’ll only find a couple of cars in the parking lot and see no one on the trail. And the scenery is just as magnificent as the solitude.