SPECTRUM

Saturday’s hike would be 8 miles, from Boulder Pass back down to Lake Francis. This promised to be another easy day, since it would be mostly flat or gently downhill. In hindsight, I should’ve continued farther east, to Lake Janet or the Waterton River. Unfortunately I didn’t think that through completely during the excitement of getting my permit.

Friday morning started out cloudy. I contemplated my options during breakfast, and decided to skip Boulder Peak. If anything, conditions were actually worse than they’d been the previous afternoon. I didn’t see any real point to climbing it again. Of course it began to clear off by the time I broke camp and started back east through Boulder Pass.

The hike back down to the Hole in the Wall cirque was glorious. The clouds blew off, replaced by brilliant sunshine and clear blue skies. Smoke from wildfires to the south and southwest had created hazy conditions for a few days earlier in the trip, but today it was crystal clear. And the wildflowers seemed even more vibrant, perhaps from the previous afternoon’s rain.

I passed more marmots, and the trail crew, before reaching the junction with the spur trail to Hole in the Wall. This time I continued ahead. A few minutes later I glanced to my right, and a stunning sight stopped me in my tracks. I was looking across at Hole in the Wall Falls, which I’d hiked to the brink of a couple of days earlier. The sun was shining directly on the falls, and light was illuminating the length of the waterfall in every color of the spectrum. It was red at the top, but shifted to orange, yellow, green, and blue as it descended.

I was stunned. I’ve seen many waterfalls over the years, and more than a few of them had rainbows. But this was different. In this case, the waterfall was the rainbow. This was truly a magical experience. I took a few photos before I sat on the nearest rock to observe. The phenomena lasted a few minutes before the color faded away. If I’d been a few minutes earlier or later, I never would’ve seen it. That made me wonder, just how rare was this event? How many people had seen it? Obviously the sun has to be at the perfect angle for it to happen. Although this waterfall is already officially named Hole in the Wall Falls, for me it will always be Spectrum Falls.

LIVINGSTON SATURDAY NIGHT

I resumed the hike, but stopped in the meadow above Brown Pass for lunch. From there I descended to Brown Pass and Thunderbird Lake. I continued on past Hawksbill and down to Lake Francis. I set up camp, lounged on the beach, and took another swim. Then I got bored and decided to explore.

I wanted to see if I could get find a decent vantage point from the lower end of the lake for photos. I returned to the main trail, and hiked east for 5 or 10 minutes. I saw a faint path running through the woods towards the lake, so I followed it. Before long I reached a clearing and what was apparently a campsite once upon a time. There were obvious tent sites, a cooking area, a food hanging pole, and a pit toilet. There was some gear here, including an inflatable boat. I’m guessing this was an old campsite that was eventually replaced by the current site. It’s probably used by backcountry rangers occasionally, too.

I did find a small beach near the lake’s outlet. It has a nice view, but it’s nothing compared to the beach below the official camping area.

I returned to camp, and enjoyed having the lake to myself the rest of the afternoon. In fact, nobody was in the other campsite that night. It was the only night of the trip where I was truly solo. It was almost a little spooky, as I’d gotten so used to having people around.

Another big thunderstorm rolled through that night. The rain on the tent fly woke me. That’s when I remembered that I’d left some wet clothes outside to dry. I ran out, grabbed the clothes, and jumped back in the tent. The storm raged for quite some time before it finally subsided.

THE SAGA OF THE WAYWARD SLEEPING PAD

I got a slow start the next morning. The tent was soaked, and since it was a sunny morning, I decided to let it dry in the early morning sun. I’d also left a t-shirt out overnight, and had missed it during the midnight fire drill at the beginning of the storm. The tent eventually dried, but the t shirt was still wet when I finally conceded.

I broke camp and hiked back down to Lake Janet. Before departing, I considered putting on rain pants. This would’ve been a great idea. Unfortunately I didn’t do it. The trail between Francis and Janet runs through a jungle, and the vegetation was soaking wet. After only a few minutes my pants were drenched.

I slogged my way to Lake Janet, and continued on down to the Waterton River and Goat Haunt. The trail was a little drier beyond Janet, and at Goat Haunt I stopped at a picnic table adjacent to the Ranger’s Station for lunch. It was sunny and breezy, so it was the perfect place to dry out. There was a ranger there, so I enquired if a change in campsites would be possible. My permit had me back up at Stoney Indian Lake. That would involve a substantial 2+ mile climb from the Waterton River – and I’d have descend that same route (covering it for the third time on the trip) the next morning. Ideally, I wanted to camp at Fifty Mountain that night, but of course it was booked. Kootenai Lakes was also booked, and that was really the only other reasonable option. I could’ve stayed in the Goat Haunt Shelters, which are always available. Then I could’ve spent the afternoon dayhiking to Rainbow Falls or the Goat Haunt overlook. That option just wasn’t appealing though. Goat Haunt was just a little too busy after more than a week in the wilderness.

I started back up the Waterton Valley early that afternoon. Early on I passed a number of dayhikers returning to the boat dock. Apparently they had taken the boat from Waterton, in Canada, and had dayhiked up to Kootenai Lakes. After the rush was over, I returned to the pleasant solitude of the forest.

The hike up to the junction with the Stoney Indian Pass Trail was quick and uneventful. Then the climb began. I had descended this route several days earlier, but going up was a bit more challenging. There are switchbacks the whole way, but the climb never eases up. The trail was also badly overgrown. I was grunting and hacking at the shrubs crowding the trail when I turned a switchback and surprised a couple on their way down. I’d known they were coming – I could hear them yelling “hey bear” from a mile away. In fact, they were making enough noise for all three of us. They weren’t expecting me though, and the girl must’ve thought I was a bear. She nearly jumped right out of her boots when she saw me.

She regained her composure, and we chatted briefly. They were on their way to Kootenai Lakes, but would’ve preferred staying at Stoney Indian Lake. From there they were heading up to Fifty Mountain and on to Flattop Mountain. I was on my way to Stoney Indian Lake, but would’ve preferred Kootenai. Briefly I considered suggesting a swap, but I was already half way up the hill.

We continued on our respective ways. The forest grew quiet, at least for a few minutes. Then I began hearing regular shouts from below. It sounded like the same guy I’d passed a few minutes earlier. At first I thought he was saying, “Hey bear, let me pass”. Who did he think he was, Gandalf? The calls were getting closer. A few minutes later, they resolved themselves into “Hey bear, sleeping pad”. That made even less sense. Did a bear steal their sleeping pad?

He was gaining on me, so I stopped to let him catch up. When he reached me, he was packless. He was huffing and puffing, apparently because he had run back up the trail. That’s when he asked me if I’d seen a sleeping pad on or near the trail. I hadn’t. He was distraught. Apparently his girlfriend had strapped her fancy, expensive Thermarest to the back of her pack when they left camp that morning at Mokowanis Junction. It was no longer there. When was the last time they had seen it? Well….Mokowanis Junction.

This didn’t sound good. He asked me if I could mail it to him if I found it. I told him I could do better, and went on to explain that I would be hiking back down the same trail the next morning, and then heading up to Fifty Mountain. So we came up with a plan. If I found the pad, I’d stash it in the woods near the junction of the Waterton Valley and Stoney Indian Pass Trails. We’d both be passing that point the next morning, probably around the same time. I told him not to leave there until at least 10 am though, because it would be unfortunate if they passed by there before I arrived.

He headed back down, and I resumed the climb. I scanned the trail and the brush on either side as I hiked. About 15 minutes later I spotted the pad right in the middle of the trail. This stretch was particularly brushy, and my guess is that one of the willow branches snagged it and dislodged it from her pack strap. I stashed it in my pack, which was now half empty because I’d eaten most of my food. From there I continued on up through a vast huckleberry patch, which slowed me considerably. Beyond was the spot where I’d seen the black bear earlier in the trip. 15 minutes later I arrived at Stoney Indian Lake.

I was pretty tired. After several short, easy days, the hike from Lake Francis to Stoney Indian Lake had been a bit more grueling. The only vacant campsite was up a steep, rocky trail on a knoll overlooking the lake. I set up camp, and then hoofed it over to the cooking area for dinner.

There was a lively group of hikers there. I regaled everyone with the tale of the wayward sleeping pad, which was amusing on a number of levels. Mostly we wondered how the couple would manage at Kootenai Lakes (which is rather rocky) with only one sleeping pad. Everyone agreed that the guy had better give up his pad, if he knew what was good for him.

The group included Jane and her daughter, Brittany. Later I discovered that Jane was a member of GlacierParkChat.com. That is a forum that I’d found extremely helpful in planning our original trip to Glacier, in 2007, as well as this trip. It was neat running into someone in person that you had only previously “met” electronically.

Jane and Brittany live in Columbia Falls, which is just west of the park. Later, while I was describing the route of my trip, I mentioned that I had a long day on Tuesday. I had to hiked all the way from Fifty Mountain to Logan Pass – about 20 miles – and then catch a park shuttle bus down to Apgar. From Apgar I’d have to walk another 2 ½ miles out to West Glacier so I could catch a taxi out to the airport.

I was surprised when Jane offered to pick me up. She gave me her number, and asked me to call her when I got to Apgar. They would pick me up there and take me to the airport. This was an incredibly generous offer, and wonderful news. It would save me at least $50 or $60 on the taxi, but more significantly, it meant I wouldn’t have to walk back to West Glacier. After hiking 20 miles and then riding the shuttle bus, I knew I wouldn’t want to do that. It would also save me quite a bit of time. I’d been a little vague in my planning for the end of the trip, but it looked like everything would work out.

I went to bed shortly after dark. That night, two storms rolled through. The first one forced me to scramble out of the tent to retrieve another drying t-shirt. In the process, I nearly fell on my face due to a cramp in my left hip. What the hell was that? It was a pain I’d never felt before. I tried to stretch it a bit, but the rain forced me back to the tent. The second storm was worse. It hit around 5 am, and lasted until after 6. I was beginning to worry that I’d have to break camp in it, as I had a big hike ahead of me. Fortunately it began to clear out shortly after first light.

Continue reading about my trip as I backpack up to Fifty Mountain.

Back to Montana

Back to Hiking and Backpacking Trip Reports

Home

Please remember to Leave No Trace!