Letting Go of the Bay Leaf: Izaak Walton Inn

Sunday, July 28, 2019

Mosaic Monday #38: The Beanie, The Gaiter and The Wife

Fit as a fiddle at Lubec Trailhead

What do these three things have in common? As of 2 pm Mountain Time on Wednesday, all of them were nearly blown off Calf Robe Mountain while hiking near Firebrand Pass. That's right, this is the latest installment in "How to Risk Your Life While Hiking" series. Read on, dear readers, read on!

The day started well enough. Spousal Unit obtained our pre-reserved back-country camping permit without incident, setting us up to enjoy one night each of camping at Ole Lake and Ole Creek. My dear neighbor friend played shuttle, so that we could leave a vehicle at our exit point. As we drove, we talked about Ole Lake's reputation for mosquito infestation, and she mentioned that we were unlikely to be pestered by the winged ones given the wind advisory. Little did we know how true that would be!

Monkeyflower

After bidding her a fond farewell, we departed the trailhead with great expectations for the adventure ahead. In June, we completed our one-night backcountry camping "experiment" (see June 23 post), and this two-nighter presented additional challenge and FUN! I was immediately enthralled with the trail as it passed through colorful meadows and aspen groves stunted by decades of wind and harsh winters. Mushrooms were abundant, some as big as dinner plates. At one gap in the trees, we glimpsed a spectacular beaver dam, together with its lodge.

Yes, that is my boot in the lower picture to give you a sense of size!

Upper Left: Parrot's Beak; Upper right: Lupines in meadow

Bottom left: Aspens; Bottom right: Caterpillar

As we continued our ascent, we met about 20 people already on the descent (one group of 12 might have been an organized hike), and all warned that they failed to reach the summit due to the wind. One buff-looking hiker, who planned (like us) to camp at Ole Lake, described himself as crawling across the Pass. He decided to turn back - if something happened to him, who would be there to help? (I suppose that's why the permit advises AGAINST solo hiking?) Another hiker cautioned that the wind could easily whip your hat or sunglasses off your head.

Top: Lupines

Bottom left: Lanceleaf Stonecrop Bottom right: Monkeyflower

We thanked them and proceeded; we could SURELY handle it! As we reached the final slope before the Pass, I was knocked over by - you guessed it - the wind. I landed on a flat slab to the right of the trail, grazing and bruising a significant portion of my right thigh.

Approaching the Pass - looks calm, doesn't it?

I picked myself up, examined the damage and carried on. We could see two approaches to the pass - the normal trail to the left across a scree and a small snow field, and a steeper animal trail that appeared more sheltered by trees and the normal topography. We opted for the latter (against regulations!!!)

Firebrand Pass is the flat spot straight ahead between the two mountains. If you look closely at the left-hand

mountain, you can make out the trail crossing the rock scree halfway up the mountain

Man with Beanie hunkers down behind trees

When we reached the top, we could not believe the force of the wind. (I wish now that I had taken a video so that you could at least hear it.) A cairn in the middle of the pass seemed to mark the way, and Man with Beanie made his way to it, deeply crouching. I was half-seated on the rocks some distance from him, and I finally decided to crab my way over to him (just like a baby might before it learns to crawl) because we couldn't even communicate over the howling of the wind. Once I reached him, we talked over the options and decided to descend a short distance backwards and take shelter for an hour behind some trees. Maybe the wind would ease. As we reversed course, the wind grabbed his beanie and tossed it into the air. Lucky for him, we found it lodged in some moss a short distance away.

While we were waiting, I went as far as I dared onto the Pass to get a shot of the view westward. This picture is like offering candy to a baby - you want more!

After 30 minutes and no sign of the wind abating, we decided to approach the south side of the Pass, in the hopes it might be more sheltered. Nope. A very short distance demonstrated the wind power, even pulling a neck gaiter out of the pocket of Man Not Wearing Beanie. Once again, we quickly located the gaiter as we beat a hasty retreat. Defeated, we began our descent. By now we knew it would be necessary to hitch a ride to our truck, parked at the exit point. Appearing on the mountain above us, like manna from heaven, came a young couple. We shared our wind stories, and then I asked if they were heading our direction. They kindly agreed to give us a ride as long as it would not delay them in picking up their daughter from daycare. Perhaps I was thinking too much about keeping pace with people 20 years younger than me - a few minutes later, before I knew what was happening, the wind had pushed me off the narrow trail. Belly down on the rocks, I was clinging to the edge of the trail to prevent sliding down the scree field. Man Not Wearing Beanie and the young couple ran to my aid. I suffered a hard blow to my right forearm that left a quail's egg size lump, scrapes on my right shin and a broken nail on my left hand from scrabbling at the rocks. It could have been much worse! We have since learned that some people call this area of the mountain the Elephant's graveyard. It could have been mine!

The good news? We didn't see a single mosquito all day!

AND we decided that we deserved a night that did not involve a tent or wind, and that's how we found ourselves at the Izaak Walton Inn, enjoying all of its creature comforts - adult beverages, a hot shower, a delectable meal and a comfortable bed.

The next day, we cooked our camp breakfast on the tailgate, parked at the Bear Creek put-in on the Middle Fork of the Flathead River. Not quite the Ole Lake campground, but the oatmeal with a handful of dried blueberries was delicious.

By 9.15, we were on the trail to Ole Creek. After a mile, the Fielding Patrol Station cabin was a pleasant surprise, situated in a lovely meadow with a small stream running behind it. Too bad it's not available for rental!

Left: Huckleberries

Upper right: Sulfur Buckwheat Lower right: Nodding Onion

We covered the 3.5 miles to the campground in short order, noting the location of a bumper huckleberry crop that we could pick on our way out the next day.

Of course, there was one more hurdle to jump before reaching the campground - Ole Creek has no bridge, is deep enough that it must be forded and of course the campground is on the other side!!! Below is a video of me fording the river the next day so you can get the idea. Trust me, that water was bone-chilling cold!

Ole Creek Campground is a delightful camp nestled between Ole Creek and Soldier Creek, which runs directly behind the food prep area. Quite convenient when you need water for your meal or coffee! The tent was up in no time, and since we had arrived so early, we passed the time rambling a couple miles further along the trail, collecting firewood and playing cards by the fire.

We were very amused to discover a new style of pit toilet at this campground - new to us anyway! We have since heard that this is called a "low rider" and is likely to become more common than the small shed-style pit toilet. Not sure how I feel about THAT!

After our gourmet dinner, we strolled back to Ole Creek to collect more firewood, followed by a dessert of s'mores with coffee. The Honey Jack was a special treat.

Earlier in the day, we had predicted the day would close without seeing a soul, but just as we were preparing to go in the tent, three hikers appeared. They had already covered 20 miles, and planned to finish the day with the 3.5 miles back to the trailhead. Wow! I hope the mosquitoes did not pursue them; they were sure nipping at us on our way to the tent!

It was a cold night and we were pleased to have our "long johns" and our down sleeping bags. Hot coffee and a campfire were a welcome start the next morning.

All too soon we had packed up camp, forded the creek (brrr …) and left the Ole Creek valley below us. We stopped only to pick hucks (a half gallon in about 30 minutes), and before we knew it, another hiking adventure was complete. Although I was a little scraped and bruised, I would not give up hiking or backcountry camping any time soon. As Man with Beanie likes to say: "This is my happy place."

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

Saturday, December 8, 2018

Mosaic Monday #6 - We Interrupt This Programming

I'm looking outside at the snow-capped mountains, and I just sealed the envelope on the last of my Christmas cards. 17 days until the red-suited man comes down our chimney, and I probably should be writing a Christmas-themed post. But the sun is bright, and the skies are blue, and it puts me in the mood to return to summer material. So here's Chapter 6 of my summer series (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5).

The scene is the south and east sides of Glacier National Park. The time is mid-July 2018. The players are Spousal Unit, his parents and me. To facilitate access to the Park, we are staying two nights in one of the cabooses on the grounds of the Izaak Walton Inn.

(Let's be real -we also chose this lodging 'cause it's just so darn cool. Who wouldn't want to sleep in a caboose? When we first arrived in Montana, a friend of ours clued us in about this unique feature of the Inn, and we began to look for an excuse to stay there! When my brother and his wife visited us in October 2017, they helped us complete our reconnaissance, and the deal was sealed!)

Caboose interior - do you see the black handle in the upper left of

the picture on the left? It is positioned next to a narrow set of

steps/shelves - this is how Spousal Unit and I reached the bed

in the cupola of the caboose! Watch your head!!!

In Marias Pass - yellow penstemon

Our first night in the caboose, we enjoyed beverages on the deck while Cedar Waxwings twittered overhead. As twilight deepened, we devoured the curry Spousal Unit had cooked up at home - what is it about being outside that increases your appetite? The next morning, a simple breakfast in the caboose was followed by a day trip to St. Mary's Lake. Along the way, Highway 2 threads through Marias Pass, which was charted by John Frank Stevens, principal engineer of the Great Northern Railway, in December 1889. The location of the pass had been rumored for several years beforehand, but it took Stevens and a Flathead Indian guide named Coonsah to discover it. The pass proved ideal for a railroad, with a valley ranging from one to six miles wide, and at a gentle grade that would not require extensive excavation or rockwork. When you look at it now, it is hard to imagine that the Pass was so hard to find - it is broad and flat and seems obvious.

Mountains on north edge of Marias Pass

The approach to the St. Mary's Lake entrance to the Park is diametrically different to the topography on the west side of the Park: the land is flat and then is suddenly interrupted by a thrusting mountain range. This means you can see the mountains from quite a distance. The wildflowers dance in the space between your car and the peaks, and an occasional fence arcing into the distance appears to point the way.

Trees finally begin to crowd the road and block most sights from view until you reach the edge of St. Mary's Lake. It was our lucky day to snag a parking spot at the launching point for trails to Baring Falls and Sun Point.

It's odd now to recall that it was a hot day, and it was tempting to dip our toes in the rushing torrent of the falls. Clouds were piling up on the mountains like a bunch of neglected dust bunnies, but they did not flow into the valley or drop any precipitation.

Left: Man with Hat on the trail to Baring Falls

Middle: Fireweed Right: Baring Falls

We picnicked near our parking spot, and then a different return route dropped us into a construction zone, where we waited 10 - 15 minutes for a pilot car. It was a blessing in disguise - right next to us was a rolling meadow with bountiful wildflowers (and some trash - funny how you don't see these things when you are taking a picture).

Can you see the yellow cup in the lower right hand picture?

A hot summer day is not complete without ice cream, so we took advantage of the little shop in East Glacier for some refreshment. My mother-in-law asked for two scoops, and was shocked at the amount the staffer put in her bowl - almost flowing over (but not more than she could eat)!!!

On our second (last) night at the Inn, we had a beverage in the Flagstop Bar, a classic bar environment on the lower level of the Inn, chock-a-block with historic memorabilia. Dinner followed on the veranda of the restaurant. We had a ring-side seat for the flowers in the garden, as well as the Empire Builder Amtrak passenger train, if only it was running on time … Unfortunately, on this day, the train was significantly delayed and no-one was willing to stay there and wait for it, especially in the dark. It just means we have to go again!

Mosaic Monday

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