Mosaic Monday #148: Fickle September

Did we make the right decision?  Outside, it's 62 degrees and partly sunny.  A bit breezy, but in all other respects, a fine late summer day.  And yet, we cancelled our camping trip scheduled for the next two nights/three days.  Did we make the right decision?  I suppose I should tell you that the forecast calls for persistent rain on Sunday/Monday, with overnight lows in the mid 30s.  Heck, that rain might be snow at the elevation of our hike!  We were so conflicted about this choice, which meant giving up a hard-won reservation in Glacier National Park.  In the end, practicality won over the stubborn determination not to abandon a plan.  Do you suffer from these dilemmas?  Since we can't go camping, I decided to use this post to re-live a backcountry trip from September 2020, a vivid reminder of how changeable September can be in the mountains of Montana.  

Our journey began in the North Fork area, the first time we had driven past storied Polebridge - now that's north!  We departed the trailhead at 10 am, and reached Whale Lake a short three hours later.  Without much in the way of views, we made quick work of the gradual, shaded trail.  This was my first hike with new boots, and the initial sensation of stiffness quickly eased.  Given the date of September 3, it was not surprising to observe blooming aster and goldenrod, as well as plants at the berry stage.

* Left: Baneberry (unusual to see white berries - they are normally red); Upper right: Thimbleberry; Lower right: Arnica

*Upper left top: Grass of Parnassus; Upper left middle: Red Paintbrush; Right: Arnica; Bottom: Black Currant

** Comparing the two Arnicas, I know they are not the same, but it is devilishly difficult to figure out which variety they ARE!  Open to anyone who might be able to distinguish them!

At the lake, we found a pretty campsite with ready-made stools and tables.  The most difficult part of setting up camp was slinging the rope over a tree to hang our bags (one of the advantages of Glacier National Park is that all the campsites have pre-made bear hangs).  Man with Hat caught plenty of fish, which made up for the fact that they were all 10 inches or less.

I collected wood, and then found a comfy spot next to the water to read.  I didn't get far since a multitude of birds caught my eye - flycatchers, a Gray Jay and a hawk.  Fish were swimming right in front of me - I tried to capture them with my camera, but the "eye" of the phone camera is not as clever as the human eye to be able to discern the shapes in the water.

We had the place entirely to ourselves as we prepared our gourmet meal.  A fire pushed back the edge of chill that began to creep ever closer with the falling of the sun.  (This is another factor we took into consideration in cancelling our current reservation - neither campground allowed fires due to scarcity of wood in those locales.  If we were wet and cold, we wouldn't even have the promise of a fire to help us out!)  In keeping with our camping tradition, we played a few hands of gin - Man with Hat walloped me 5 to 1.

The next morning, we sipped our morning joe while watching the sun poke through the pines.  A languid grasshopper had to be coaxed off the tent as we broke camp.  

On the trail by 9.45, we climbed a steep half mile to the intersection with the Pacific Northwest Trail (also known as Whitefish Divide Trail No. 26).  (Don't I look happy to have that behind me?) 

From that point, the trail meanders for a mile along the crest with expansive views toward Glacier National Park to the east.  The trail begins to descend through 2 pleasant miles of switchbacks, meadows and forest, leading to the fork with the Huntsberger Trail.  What goes down must go up (I know, gravity would say otherwise, but this is HIKING), and we had a moderate climb to another crest, rewarded by an arresting vista of Huntsberger Mountain.

Then it was all downhill to a spur that led to the lake, eponymous with the mountain.  A small meadow, dotted with campsites, perched at one end of the lake, and the mountain towered over the water on the far shore.  Rocks scattered along the edge offered perfect platforms for sunbathing while Man with Hat plied his fly fishing apparatus once more.  
 

He caught plenty of small fish, and it was warm enough when he returned that he went swimming.  I was captivated by the wispy clouds, dancing across the blue sky in a seemingly choreographed waltz.

Once again, no-one else arrived to camp for the night.  Our "Chicken with Risotto" dinner was more akin to soup, but quite tasty.  The sun moved across the mountain as we hung the food and other "smellies" in Spousal Unit's pack for the night.  The only available branch did not appear strong enough to hold two bags, so we opted for the "fishy" bag in the tree, and my pack wrapped in a plastic bag by the firepit.  Either we got lucky or it was a good plan; no bears interrupted our sleep that night!  (And Spousal Unit continued his gin winning streak.)

The next morning, we emerged from the tent at 7 am.  Cupping our hands around the coffee cups and looking east for the sun, it became clear it would take some time for it to clear the mountain.  What does that mean?  More time for fishing!  It didn't last long -- the wind rose quickly and strongly.

We left the lake at 10.45; we encountered some grouse and interesting plants along the way, but not many spectacular views (perhaps we are spoiled?)  I studied my "Plants of the Rocky Mountains" book, but could not identify the shrub below with the cherry-looking fruit.  Anyone know what it is?  It is unusual to see Yellow Paintbrush - I was delighted to observe this specimen.  I have always thought of Harebell as a spring flower, but my book says it will bloom through September!

At the bridge crossing for Whale Creek, we took a short break.

It's only 45 minutes from the creek to the parking area, and in that space we encountered the first other people we had seen in two-and-a-half days.  And would you be surprised to learn I knew one of them?!?  It's a small valley!

We met #1 Son at the Gunsight Saloon for a post-hike meal - always anticipated and greatly savored.  Now that we have cancelled our last camping trip of the season, this will be a tradition that will have to wait until early summer 2022!!!

Mosaic Monday

Welcome to Mosaic Monday, a weekly meme where we get together to share our photo mosaics and collages.

Please include at least one photo mosaic/collage in your post.

The link will be open from 1 p.m. Sunday until 11 p.m. Tuesday (U.S. Mountain time).

Remember to add the link to your Mosaic Monday post and not the one to your blog.

Please link back to this post so that your readers will be able to visit and enjoy more wonderful mosaics; taking the MM blog button from my sidebar is an easy way to link back.

As host I will visit every participant and leave a comment so that you know I stopped by.

Please try and visit as many other blogs as you can, especially those that join in later, so that everyone's creativity can be appreciated fully.

Thank you for joining in today and sharing your mosaics with us. 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

MM #46: Things that go Harumph in the Night

Western Pasqueflower in seed

It was 9.30 p.m., and I was sound asleep.  "Did you hear that?" whispered Spousal Unit.  I didn't respond, until a moment later.

"Harumph?"  Splash.  Splash.

"What is THAT?" I asked, turning to look in his direction.  My inflatable mattress crinkled under the shift in my weight, and my sleeping bag rustled, both of which made me cringe.

"I can't see anything," he said, leaning on his left elbow and peering intently into the darkness through the fine mesh of the tent.

Munch. Munch.  Splash.  "Harumph?" Splash.

Bear grass - a late bloomer!

Yes, folks, the scene is in the midst of the Jewel Basin, the location of our last backcountry camping trip.  For 15 minutes, we listened to a random series of grunts, munching and splashes, with only theories about the source.

"Can you tell how far away it is?" By now I had goosebumps all over and I could feel myself trembling slightly, even in the warmth of my bag.

"Maybe 30 yards," he said, shaking the bear spray canister.  (Bear spray has to be well-mixed to be effective.)

"Harumph?"  Splash. Splash.

"What do you think it is?" 

Cow parsnip in seed

"Maybe a moose," he speculated.  Of course, the temptation was strong, to turn on our headlamps and identify the creature.  Especially knowing that I love moose.  But would this simply serve to antagonize it, whatever "it" might be?

Munch.  Munch.  "Harumph?" Splash. Splash.

"What's the plan?"  I am sure that if I had been able to see anything, it would have been an eye roll from Spousal Unit.  Yes, in retrospect, a silly question.  But it was practically killing me to lie there with no idea what was lurking just 30 yards from our tent.  I almost would have preferred to know it was a grizzly bear, if that was the case.

Crash, crash, crash (the sounds of brush breaking under foot, but growing fainter).

And with that, the critter was gone.  You can rest assured that I continued to question the wisdom of backcountry camping for the next few hours, as I tried to calm myself enough to return to the land of Nod.  Eventually I succeeded, and in the clear light of day, it was as if this mysterious visit never happened!

The next morning, fortified by a cup of coffee, we ventured down the shore line.  Given its rocky nature, it was almost impossible to see any tracks, much less anything identifiable.  We could discern divots in the mud of the lake bed, but whether they were made by a moose, elk or bear was anyone's guess.  We examined the brushy area, and it was obvious that it is frequented as a route to and from the lake - the bushes have bent branches, and the smaller plants are crushed.  But again, no clear tracks.  Sigh.  No clues to the mystery here.

So we got on with our morning business - I tended the fire and started to pack up small items while Man with Hat plied the lake for fish.  It might have been too early for them, and soon enough he was back on shore for breakfast and another cup of coffee.

A second round of fishing resulted in a few nibbles and one catch, but nothing compared to the day before at Wildcat Lake.  Yes, you're right, I am telling this story completely out of sequence, but isn't grabbing the attention of your readers one of the keys to great writing?  I led with the thrilling part!

Wildcat Lake sits in a cirque surrounded by lush alpine meadow

and dark subalpine fir forest, as well as the crags of the Swan Crest

The day before, we hiked from Camp Misery (no joke - that's its name) to Wildcat Lake.  Man with Hat wasted no time in launching his pack raft, and for the next 2.5 hours, made a full circuit of the lake, hooking at least 20 fish.  He let them all go; we didn't have a good way to keep them cool for the remainder of our hike.  I pottered around the shore, taking pictures (no big shock), making noise and playing Solitaire (I won twice!)

Bottom Center: Huckleberry - leaves turning red!

Upper left - can you see the caterpillar?  Bottom left: Mountain Ash

Upper right: Wildcat Lake                Middle left: Baneberry fruit                     Bottom left: Angelica  

Bottom middle: Yellow mushroom the size of a grapefruit                        Bottom right: Jacob's Ladder in seed stage

We climbed out of the basin that contains Wildcat, and the trail led us down one draw (a narrow valley) and up another to stand above Strawberry Lake.  Along the way, we spotted a solitary mountain goat high on the cliffs above us.

Upon our descent to Strawberry, we found a few day-hikers, who soon departed to beat the sunset.  With the lake to ourselves, we chose a site at the head of the lake, on a spot of grass just the right size for our tent.  This "campground" differed from our previous sites (Logging Lake, Ole Creek, Red Eagle/Atlantic Creek) because it did not have pre-defined campsites, cooking area, food hanging pole or pit toilet.  In Jewel Basin, you have the freedom to camp where you like, but you have to work a little harder to hang your backpacks, make your own bathroom - well, you get the idea.  We followed all the guidelines for separating cooking from the tent, etc., but I wonder if it's just a coincidence that we had a close-to-a-critter encounter here and not at our other locations?

Ramen with re-hydrated vegies

The remaining daylight was quickly consumed setting up camp and making dinner.  We retired to the tent, played some Gin, (Spousal Unit won 3 out of 5), and you know the rest of that night's story!!

After we packed up camp, the 3 miles down to Strawberry Lake trailhead was almost an afterthought.  I was anxious to get home and start investigating Mr. Harumph.  Maybe I could find a similar sound on YouTube, and solve this mystery.  But it was not to be.  Despite several hours of searching, I have been unable to hear a similar grunt.  Maybe Spousal Unit is right - forget the moose, elk or bear - he's going with Sasquatch!

Mosaic Monday

Welcome to Mosaic Monday, a weekly meme where we get together to share our photo mosaics and collages.
Please include at least one photo mosaic/collage in your post.
The link will be open from 1 p.m. Sunday until 11 p.m. Monday (U.S. Mountain time).
Remember to add the link to your Mosaic Monday post and not the one to your blog.
Please link back to this post so that your readers will be able to visit and enjoy more wonderful mosaics; taking the MM blog button from my sidebar is an easy way to link back.
As host I will visit every participant and leave a comment so that you know I stopped by.
Please try and visit as many other blogs as you can, especially those that join in later, so that everyone's creativity can be appreciated fully.
Thank you for joining in today and sharing your mosaics with us. 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter