'Brook and road were fellow-travelers in this gloomy pass'

This spring and summer in northwest Montana has been a near-continuous cycle of storms and cloud, making travel into the high country difficult even though snowpacks have stayed impressively large. Last weekend there seemed to be a short window of opportunity, so we headed up to the wild east side of Glacier National Park.

Our planned campground near Marias Pass was still drifted over and closed, so we plugged on to Two Medicine, itself open but half snowcoverd.

Two Medicine Lake, 10 p.m., June 24.



In the morning we woke to broken skies and moved camp to Rising Sun campground. Road crews have cleared Going to the Sun Road to within a mile of either side of Logan Pass, but the road remains gated--at Avalanche on the west side and Jackson Glacier Overlook on the east. We drove up to the gate. I stuck my boots and skis on my pack and pedalled 2 miles up to Siyeh Bend and began skinning toward Piegan Pass on a still-thick snowpack.



The weather deteriorated and at Piegan Pass I had clouds, strong winds, and intermittent snow. Thankfully the view was still clear when I made the pass between Piegan Mountain and Pollock Mountain for the view south into central Glaicer.



The descent was a skiff of new on a firm surface.



Lower down the surfaced softened nicely.

In the afternoon we hiked to a few waterfalls, went to a ranger talk on wolverines, and called it an early night.

On Sunday we woke to blazing blue skies that quickly detiorated. I was back at the gate by 9.30 a.m. and pedalled 4.5 miles to where the plows sat idle. The impasse was a wall of snow called "The Big Drift", where winds sweep off Logan Pass. This was a curious crux: the drift itself was too steep to cross, and the slope above had too much exposure. Below, in a mellow bowl, snow was creeping off its hold on a line of cliffs in a sort of mellow crevasse; I found a snow bridge and was atop Logan Pass, where it was slightly eerie to be alone in a place which a few weeks from now will be packed with people and their vehicles.

The visitors center: not open.



Looking down the valley toward St. Mary, a Wordsworth poem, The Simplon Pass, came to mind:

—Brook and road
Were fellow-travelers in this gloomy Pass,
And with them did we journey several hours
At a slow step. The immeasurable height
Of woods decaying, never to be decayed,
The stationary blasts of waterfalls,
And in the narrow rent, at every turn,
Winds thwarting winds bewildered and forlorn

From the pass, it was a straightfoward skin up the apron below Clements Mountain, and then a traverse along its base in periodic heavy, wet snow.



The view out to Bearhat.



The view down to Logan Pass. A few inches of new snow enlivened the skiing.



Crossing the Big drift was much easier coming back, and I made a few short runs out of it.



Naturally, once we were out of the mountains it cleared up beautifully. We enjoyed a two hour sunset on the way home: 11 p.m., near Bearmouth, Mont.

Visitors

When you live closer to British Columbia than you do to the nearest Sam's Club it should probably come as no great suprise that a lot of out of town friends and family don't just casually stop by. Nevertheless, Montana has its charms and we have had a few visitors this spring.

As mentionned earlier, Laura's brother spent spring break here and enjoyed a typical April week full of blizzards and close encounters with wildlife.

Laura's good friend Liz came from Atlanta in June. We learned a valuable less on her arrival--Northwest makes just one flight a day to Missoula, and if you miss it, you're going to spend 24 hours in Minneapolis. Well, at least the mall was close by.

We took Liz up Pattee Canyon, around downtown, to Maclay Flat



and later up into the Swan Mountains to Holland Lake.



The next week my parents came from Houston. We went to the farmer's market and bought beef from the rancher, did some shopping



worked in the yard, saw some of the countryside, and reveled in the Montana days which, as Norman Maclean described in A River Runs Through It, "are almost Arctic in length". Indeed, it's interesting to walk the dog to the park at 9:30 p.m.--in broad daylight.

We took an afternoon and hopped over the border into Idaho, visiting the bridge to Jerry Johnson Hot Springs



and this giant western redcedar forest, where we ate lunch.



They also enjoyed the weather--when they weren't shivering. I told them to bring jackets and sweaters; falling on ears in Houston it may as well have been a message from outerspace. But they indeed wore jackets most of the time.

The next weekend we all went to Schweitzer, the ski resort in far northern Idaho where Laura and I spent part of our honeymoon. Though it was mid June there was still plenty of snow, so I sneaked in a couple of runs before everyone woke up. That was not hard to do as the sun came up bright and blinding at 3:45 a.m.

Schweitzer overlooks Lake Pend O'reille--an impressive sight.



On the way back we swung through Couer d'Alene and walked along the lake there on a sparkling 65-degree afternoon.



With the parents on their way to Yellowstone, we hosted a second batch of visitors--my Spanish class. I've taken a year of Spanish at continuing ed and we end each quarter with a small party.



And we've got one final visitor to mention--Laura's having a boy on October 22. As an early gift, I guess, my mom handed back many of my baby clothes: here's a sweater knitted for me by her mom!