A LAKE NAMED SUE

 

 

I was up early again on Tuesday.  It was another chilly morning, but I enjoyed the alpenglow on the peaks above Mokowanis Lake.  I hit the trail at 8, which was fairly early, but probably not early enough.  I had a full day ahead of me.  The second major climb of the trip, to Stoney Indian Pass, would take most of the morning.  Because I wasn’t able to get a spot at Stoney Indian Lake, I had to hike all the way to Kootenai Lakes.  Also, I was flirting with the idea of adding an off-trail side trip up to Sue Lake.  Sue Lake sits in an alpine basin directly below the Continental Divide, above the cliffs that form the backdrop for Margaret Lake.  From Sue Lake, it’s a short, easy hike to the rim of those cliffs.  That vantage offers a spectacular aerial view of Margaret Lake, some 1,000’ directly below.

 

After an easy warm up back to the head of Glenns Lake, I rejoined the main trail and passed the campsites at Mokowanis Junction.  Those sites are deep in the woods, and don’t look very exciting.  On the other hand, they are only a mile from Mokowanis Lake, and even closer to the head of Glenns Lake, so at least there are some appealing destinations nearby.

 

During the previous morning’s hike, I was beginning to think that the weight of my pack was getting reasonable.  I was on day 5, so at this point I was only carrying 8 days of food.  However, the climb up the Mokowanis River valley to Stoney Indian Pass changed my mind.  It was still really heavy.  After Mokonwanis Junction I began a steady climb up the valley.  I passed a lovely cascading waterfall, and views of Glenns Lake and Cosley Lake began to open up behind me as I gained elevation.  This stretch of trail was really brushy though, and it looked like prime grizzly habitat.  I seemed to be the only person on the trail, so I did a lot of hooting and hollering as I hiked.

 

I finally reached the top of a bench, where I found a small pond fed by Atsina Falls and Paiota Falls.  I crossed the river on a footbridge and resumed the climb.  Switchbacks led to another bench, a short distance above the brink of Paiota Falls.  It was in this area that I passed the beginning of the route leading to Sue Lake.  Although there is no official trail, there is enough of a beaten path that the turn is obvious.  However, I was out of water, so I continued ahead a short distance to the creek above Paiota Falls.  This stream drains Sue Lake and spills over Raven Quiver Falls, which was visible high above.

 

I ran into Sylvie and James again at the creek crossing.  They had backpacked to Stoney Indian Lake, and were now on their way back down the valley.  We chatted again before they resumed their hike.  At that point I had a major decision to make.  To Sue, or not?

 

The route looked perfectly reasonable on the map.  In reality, it looked rather daunting.  I wouldn’t have hesitated if I’d been wearing a daypack, but the load I was carrying gave me second thoughts.  The climb would be steep and off-trail, and carrying the pack up there would be tough.  Unfortunately, there is no convenient place to leave a pack near the trail.  Doing so is against park rules, and is a bad idea in general.  If a bear mauled my pack while I was gone, the trip would be ruined.  So, if I wanted to hike to Sue Lake, I had to carry it.

 

It was a painful decision, but I decided to skip it.  Aside from the difficulty, the side trip would take several hours, at least.  That would mean a late arrival at my campsite at Kootenai Lakes – possibly after dark.

 

 

HUCKLEBERRY SHARK

 

 

I crossed the creek in flip flops and climbed gradually through subalpine forest and scattered meadows.  As I climbed, views of the route to Sue Lake and Pyramid Peak improved.  The farther I went, the more confident I became that I’d made the right decision.  Sue Lake would’ve been a killer hike.  I wasn’t entirely done with Sue though.  I was looking forward to getting a view of it from the Continental Divide on the last day of my trip.  Plus, I intend to come back to the area for another attempt.  Next time, I’ll spend two nights at Mokonwanis Lake, the Head of Glenns Lake, or Mokonwanis Junction.  That way I can dayhike to Sue Lake from the campsite.

 

I hiked on to Atsina Lake, which is an alpine beauty in a small basin below Stoney Indian Pass.  I spotted a single elk here, and watched him wade across the shallow lake to the far side.  From there, one final set of switchbacks led to Stoney Indian Pass.  Initially I thought the view was disappointing, so I explored along the cliffs to the right.  After a short distance I reached some rock outcrops with a spectacular aerial view of Stoney Indian Lake far below.  The lake is a milky blue, which is interesting, because there are no visible glaciers feeding it.  There is a substantial scree slope at the head of the lake though, and I suspect that it may be a rock glacier.  In other words, there may be a small glacier buried under the rocks and dirt.  I hope that is the case, because the rocks will insulate the ice and slow its melting.  It would be a shame if Stoney Indian Lake lost its gorgeous blue color.

 

The pass was the perfect place for lunch.  I swapped my boots for flip flops, slathered peanut butter on some flat bread, and watched mountain goats grazing on a nearby hillside.  Eventually the pass drew a bit of a crowd.  I’d only seen one couple other than Sylvie and James on the hike up, but several groups arrived at the pass while I was eating.  This included the mother and daughter I’d camped with the previous evening.

 

I didn’t feel well on the hike down to the lake.  It was a hot, sunny day, and I’d carried only minimal water that morning to save weight.  It may be that I was a little dehydrated.  I took another break at the Stoney Indian Lake campsites.  Although it was only early afternoon, it would’ve been nice to stop there.  However, that wasn’t an option, and I still had 5 or 6 miles to go to Kootenai Lakes.  Fortunately it would be mostly downhill.

 

A long descent to the Waterton River followed.  The trail was somewhat overgrown, despite being one of the most popular trails in the Glacier backcountry.  In fact, most of the trails I hiked were brushy.  Apparently that was due to an unusually wet summer.  On a more positive note, huckleberries were profuse at certain elevations.  I really don’t know why I carried 3 bags of dried fruit!

 

I was 10 or 15 minutes beyond Stoney Indian Lake when I heard rustling in the brush below the trail.  I paused to have a look.  The shrubs below me were shaking, and I saw a pair of pointed black ears protruding above the vegetation.  It looked like some sort of Huckleberry Shark!  It must’ve heard me or smelled me, because suddenly the head of a black bear popped up out of the bushes.  He was up on his hind legs, trying to get a better look at me.  I was rather close, so after a couple of quick photos I began to back away down the trail.  He snorted, ran to the nearest tree, and started to climb.  Then he looked back at me and began rubbing his back against the trunk.  I’m not sure what that demonstration was all about, but it was pretty clear that I was entirely too close to his huckleberry patch.  I continued backing away until he was out of sight.  I then continued down the trail another ten minutes or so before pausing for my own huckleberry feast.

 

The rest of the descent was a tedious slog through thick brush.  Switchbacks moderated the grade, but it was still a relief when I finally reached the Waterton Valley Trail.  I turned right (north), heading towards Goat Haunt, Waterton Lake, and the Canadian border.  Later in the trip I would return to this point, and I would follow the Waterton Valley Trail south.  I would climb out of the valley up to Fifty Mountain near the Continental Divide.  From there I’d follow the Highline Trail the rest of the way to Logan Pass and Going to the Sun Road.

 

I was out of water again.  Unfortunately, the Waterton Valley Trail isn’t particularly close to the river.  I followed the trail north, towards a couple of stream crossings shown on the map.  The first was dry, but according to my map, the second would require fording.  I thought that seemed unlikely based on the size of the stream, and I found that creek dry, also.  Apparently my map is mis-labeled, as the ford it refers to is actually on a different trail altogether.

 

A bit later I reached a primitive trail leading towards the Porcupine Lookout.  I decided to follow it, as it crosses the river a few hundred yards from the Waterton Valley Trail.  I eventually reached it, and found a broad but shallow stream.  It was an awkward place to filter water, but I wasn’t inclined to complain.  From there, I returned to the main trail and continued north.  A bit later I reached the spur trail to Kootenai Lakes.  I hiked down to the lakes, where I found a couple of vacant tent sites.  One was back in the woods close to the toilet.  Luckily the other one was close to the lake and much nicer.  Kootenai Lakes isn’t a gorgeous alpine destination, but it is still lovely.  The peaks directly above are jagged and dramatic, and the forest and lakeshore are peaceful.  I may be in the minority, but I actually liked it better than the more popular sites at Stoney Indian Lake.

 

There were two other groups at Kootenai Lakes.  They included a family and a group of middle-aged guys.  All of them were fishing.  Apparently Kootenai Lakes is a good place to do that.  Kootenai was a little buggy, and it was the first place in Glacier where I ran into mosquitoes.  They probably last longer there, due to the marshy surroundings and the relatively low elevation.  The area also has a reputation for moose, but unfortunately I didn’t see any.  As usual I went to bed early and slept well.

 

 

SETTLE DOWN, FRANCIS

 

 

I overslept a bit the next morning.  I guess I was still tired from the previous day’s hike.  Fortunately I still made it up in time to see (and photograph) the Citadel Peaks reflected in the calm water of Kootenai Lake.  It was another cold morning, which caught me off guard.  I was expecting it to be warmer due to the low elevation.  Of course it was late August.  Summer was nearing its end.

 

I still managed to break camp by 8am.  I seemed to be getting faster at that with practice.  An easy hike through deep forest and the occasional meadow brought me to Goat Haunt.  After five + days in the wilderness, Goat Haunt seemed like a thriving metropolis.  There is a ranger station here, along with a U.S. Customs office, a boat dock, a shelter for hikers, and a number of other buildings.  Despite all of that, there wasn’t anybody around.  I stopped at the boat dock for photos of Waterton Lake, which had lovely reflections thanks to a windless morning.  On a whim, I also tried my cell phone there.  I was only carrying it because I was leery about leaving it in my duffel bag in the bear locker back at the Apgar Campground.  Surprisingly I got one bar.  The signal was coming from somewhere in Canada.  I sent a text message to my wife to let her know that all was well before shutting it down again.

 

From Goat Haunt I headed west on the Boulder Pass Trail towards Kintla Lake in the northwest corner of the park.  I quickly left the “civilization” of Goat Haunt behind, and crossed the Waterton River on a suspension bridge.  I considered taking a short side trip up to see the cascades at Rainbow Falls, but decided against it.  I was too eager to get to my next campsite at Lake Francis.

 

I passed a spur trail to the Waterton River campsites, but I didn’t check them out.  They are in the woods, but I’m not sure how close they are to the river.  A bit later I passed a junction with a trail heading north along the shore of Waterton Lake into Canada.  There is a sign here warning southbound hikers that they must immediately report to U.S. Customs and Immigration in Goat Haunt.  I wonder how many people comply with that rule?

 

A significant climb followed.  It was steep initially, but the grade eased after a short distance.  It was along here that I passed the Bearanoid Family.  The Bearanoid Family takes bear precautions very seriously.  There is no limit to the amount of noise they make to scare off bears (and all other wildlife).  Dad was hollering “Hey Bear” at the top of his lungs every two seconds.  Mom periodically blasted an air horn, and little Susie was actually beating a drum.  Young Johnny was beating little Susie, so at least that was amusing.  The echoes from their passing reverberated for about a mile.  Fortunately I forgot all about them by the time I reached Lake Janet.

 

Lake Janet is surrounded by meadows.  Janet is scenic, and I found a nice sandy beach there for lunch.  It was another warm, sunny day, and leaving the beach wasn’t easy.  Fortunately, another beach at Lake Francis beckoned.  I left Lake Janet behind and re-entered the forest.  I passed the Lake Janet campsites a bit later, which are not particularly close to the lake.

 

The hike from there to Lake Francis was through deep forest.  While Janet is pretty, Francis is a beauty.  I set up camp at one of two sites, which are in the woods on the hillside above the lake.  There is no view from there, but a trail leads down to large beach on the lakeshore.  Francis is another glacial lake, sometimes blue and sometimes green depending on the light.  It is backed by a sheer wall of mountains, only broken by a spectacular waterfall that must be over 1,000’ high.  Although most of its run is in the form of steep cascades, the first couple of hundred feet are a true freefall.  The waterfall is fed by a substantial glacier, but from the lakeshore the ice is hidden from sight.

 

It was only 2pm, so I had all afternoon to relax and enjoy the lake.  The area was a little busy, as there were several people from the nearby Hawksbill campsite enjoying the lake.  Several were swimming, and a few were fishing.  Eventually they cleared out, and I went for a brief swim, too.  Afterwards I dozed in the sun.  Eventually my camp mates for the evening arrived.  They were two guys and two girls, college-aged, from Portland, Oregon. 

 

That evening, after dinner, I returned to the lake for sunset.  I actually dozed off while lying in the sand.  I woke with a start.  I opened my eyes to see two deer looking down at me.  It was a doe and fawn, and the fawn was so young it still had spots.  They bolted away from me when I woke, but I can just imagine the conversation they were having before I came to.

 

Fawn:  “Mom, what is that dirty, smelly creature?”

 

Doe:  “Son, that’s a human.  They’re mostly harmless except when they are in groups”.

 

Fawn:  “Oh, I see.  Its socks look salty.  Can I steal them?”

 

I sat up, and the doe and fawn retreated to the far end of the beach.  I spent the next few minutes trying to get photos without scaring them off.  A zoom lens would’ve been helpful, but of course I didn’t have one.

 

Sunset was pleasant, featuring some nice colors and wispy clouds.  At dusk, the waterfall spilling into Lake Francis really turned magical.  Its length was reflected in the calm water of the lake, and it looked ethereal, like an apparition in the fading light.  I don’t know if it has an official name (there isn’t one on my map), but “Ethereal Falls” would be a good choice.



Continue reading about my trip as I backpack up to Brown Pass an on to the Hole in the Wall.

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