The Tale of Crypt Lake

It was a dark and stormy night. Ok, no it wasn't. Actually, it was a bright and sunny morning, but how can you start a story about a hike with the name Crypt Lake without an opening line like "It was a dark and stormy night?" Well, now the mood has been killed, so I'll just stick with what actually happened.

Last year a couple of rangers came back from a hike raving about this amazing trail to Crypt Lake, which is in Waterton National Park in Canada. Waterton shares its southern border with Glacier National Park's northern border. Together the two parks form the world's first International Peace Park. The rangers I talked with told me it was the best trail that they've been on. In Waterton? Not Glacier? Well, being a home grown, all-around American boy from the south, I had my doubts that Canada had a trail that could rival some of my favorite trails in Glacier, but the more they talked, the more intrigued I became. So, this year, the hike to Crypt Lake was on my must-do list and honestly I wish I had waited until nearer the end of the season.

Your journey to Crypt Lake starts out at the Waterton marina where you purchase a boat ticket. Yep, that's right, a boat ticket. You can't drive to the trailhead. You have to ride the boat across Waterton Lake where it drops you off at the start of the trail.

The boat had at least fifty people on it and everyone is there to hike the same trail as you are. When I realized this, I started to worry. All these people will be starting the trail at the same time. With me. I don't want to hike in line for 5.4 miles behind the guy with the leg brace that has decided to "get back on the horse" or the guy that stops every ten feet to take another picture of an interesting rock or Tom and Sally and their two whining kids! Turns out I didn't have much to worry about. After the first mile or so, the slow hikers started lagging behind and the hiking machines zoomed ahead.

If I could only use one word to describe this trail it would be AMAZING. From the lakeshore you climb into a valley which you follow to its head. Then you switchback up to a hanging valley in which sits Crypt Lake. This is the short description. I don't have enough time or vocabulary to fully describe this trail in all its glory. Suffice it to say, that along the way you pass four waterfalls, a beautiful canyon with the coolest name (Hellroaring), sheer cliffs that would make a mountain goat reconsider his abilities, and the most picture perfect hanging valley complete with a waterfall that drops 492 feet to the valley below. But the best part of this trail lies in the last half mile.

Burnt Rock Falls

Crypt Falls flowing out of the hanging valley

After you climb 2,000 feet in elevation, you cross a creek and the trail suddenly forgets it's a trail and becomes a ledge, a ledge that is about two and a half feet at its widest with a rock wall on your left and a drop of about 400 feet to your right. This ledge hugs around the cliff for about thirty yards then decides it doesn't want to be a ledge anymore. It wants to be a tunnel. Yep, you read it right, a tunnel. The short tunnel is no more than four feet high so you have to "walk" with your rear end practically bumping your ankles, but before you can do this you have to ascend a nine foot iron ladder that is bolted to the cliff to get to the tunnel. Oh, it gets better! After a short walk/crawl the tunnel decides (you guessed it) it's time for a change. It becomes a harrowing scramble up the cliff with only a steel cable to hold on to. You climb about fifty feet and the scramble, that was once a tunnel, that was once a ledge, that was once a trail, gets over its bout with multiple personality disorder and becomes a trail again. Now you are in the hanging valley and another ten minutes of walking brings you to the picturesque Crypt Lake.

A few people couldn't do this and turned around.

The tunnel

Entering the tunnel

Crystal ascending the cable

The view looking back down the cable

Crypt Lake

This is the life!
Hopefully you signed up for the last return boat at 5:30pm so you can spend some time relaxing at the lake because you've got to hike the 5.4 miles back in time to catch it before it leaves you stranded, all alone, in the dark, within the clutches of...Crypt Lake.

Oto-my-goodness!

So it's been pretty busy here. The campground has filled every day since July third. I enjoy my job. I have a great staff. I even like living in the ranger station (which I wasn't too sure I would.) So what about your weekends, you might ask. What do you do on your off days. Well, I do what anyone 2,400 miles away from home and stuck in one of the most magnificent national parks in these great United States would do. I go hiking.

Glacier National Park has over 730 miles of trails and in my third season here, I've only hiked about 160 miles of them. Not a big number, sure, but those are only one way mileages and I've done alot of hikes two or three times just because they're favorites of mine. I usually hike around 250 miles a season (which is just shy of five months.) I have Thursdays and Fridays off. That makes it nice because the trails aren't overrun with people like they are on the weekends and I don't have to hike alone. Crystal, one of my good friends and Tom from campground maintenance both have Fridays off.

With all that being said, I thought I would tell you about my hike last Friday to Otokomi Lake. There's still quite a bit of snow in the high country and I was trying to think of a trail that didn't require an ice axe and crampons to do. Otokomi looked like it fit the bill and it was a trail I hadn't done yet. I suggested it to Crystal and Tom and we all agreed we should do it.

Before I go any farther, I must give credit where credit is due. Most of these photos were taken by Crystal. I decided not to take my big brick of a camera. So, now that that's out of the way I don't have to worry about copyright infringement. Thanks Crystal!

We all met at my place at 7:00 AM. Yes, in the morning. Yes, to go hiking. Crystal volunteered to drive so Tom and I loaded our packs in her Jeep and settled in for the two hour trip over the Going To The Sun Road.

Bighorn Sheep up at Logan Pass.

The trailhead is found to the left of the Rising Sun camp store. The trail gains 1,882 feet in elevation in it's 5.2 miles to reach Otokomi Lake which sits at 6,125 feet in elevation. We head off and Tom immediately leaves us behind coughing in his dust. That boy is a hiking machine. Now, I wasn't sure what to expect on this trail because I had heard some "not so great" things about it, but I was in for a big surprise. The trail wanders through a forested valley following Rose Creek. We pass gorges and small flowered meadows and too many small waterfalls and cascades to keep up with.

See what I mean?

Ok, I think you get the picture. So after about three miles the forest opens up and the trail crosses a moraine, which is a fancy word for a pile of rocks (actually it's the crumbled rock that a glacier leaves behind. So yeah, really it's a pile of rocks!)

About half a mile from the lake the trail drops down to pass by a backcountry campsite then follows the creek up to the outlet to Otokomi Lake and that's where I lost all sense of reality. I looked down into the creek, which is crystal clear by the way, and see loads, no masses, no hoards of fish and I'm not talking little minnows. These things were as long as my forearm! More fish than I've ever seen before in the wild. I mean it actually looked like a fish hatchery! Are you getting the idea yet?

If you look closely you can see the fish. And this is a small group!

Turns out they were Yellowstone Cutthroat Trout and they were spawning. I was told by a coworker to make sure I take fishing gear. I did, but I didn't think I'd be doing much fishing. I'm not much of a fisherman. I usually don't catch anything but today, I thought to myself, maybe I actually have a chance at catching one of these. We spot Tom and he says he's been there about an hour (I'm telling you the boy is a beast.) He's already caught three and he's asking me why I don't have my line in the water yet. So I get my stuff out and start casting. No joke, by the third cast I landed one...then another. I couldn't believe it! Suddenly I'm in "A River Runs Through It" and I'm catching fish after fish! It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen! I changed lures three times and caught fish no matter what I threw in! I don't speak Blackfoot but I'm pretty sure Otokomi means; "lake with miraculous fish that throw themselves at you with no end in sight" (the Blackfoot Indians obviously have learned the economy of words.) I let Crystal use my rod and she ends up catching the biggest fish of the day! It was so big, I couldn't wrap my hand all the way around it.

Tom was fly-fishing while I used a spinner rod. It didn't matter. We both caught a ton of fish.

Proof!!

Tom with one of his catches.

Otokomi Lake itself is a beautiful mountain lake set in a high-walled cirque and to give you just a sense of what it's like being there with the sounds of the water and the birds singing, here's a bonus. A video, also provided by Crystal! Enjoy!

Logan Pass

Well, I promised pictures from Logan Pass, so here they are. Logan Pass is the highest point on the Going To The Sun Road. It sits at 6,646 feet in elevation on the Continental Divide.

Pulling up to the pass.

Notice all the people in shorts.

Lauren had a blast!

It's a hallway of snow!

The poles sticking up through the snow are so that the snowplows

know where the sidewalks are.

The trail to Hidden Lake.

People love to come up here to ski and snowboard in June.

This sign is usually about chest high.

I think this is more snow than she's seen in her entire life!

Ok, there it is. Short and sweet today.

Oh yeah, I have a blog.

Ok, so I haven't kept this thing up as often as I had planned to. I've been pretty busy with work, I started P90X again (which takes an hour and a half at least) and to be honest, I haven't felt very motivated to post since Chrissy and Lauren left. Ok, enough with the excuses. Hopefully I can get back on track with this thing and post a little more regularly.

I've been really busy at work here lately. The Fourth of July marks the beginning of the busy season here at Glacier National Park. We now have all four loops open in the campground and today we have so many reservations coming in that we don't have any spots for walk-ins. We actually started the day calling in "full," which makes for an easy day.

For the past couple of weeks it's been getting steadily warmer with highs in the upper 70's, but yesterday a cold front moved in bringing rain and highs in the 50's and 60's. Of course this happened on my off days! I don't mind the temps but I am completely over the rain. If it keeps raining on my off days I won't get much hiking in this season.

The day before Chrissy and Lauren left was the first day that the Going To The Sun Road (GTTSR) opened completely, so we decided to drive it. The GTTSR was dedicated in 1933. It is approximately 50 miles long and climbs to an elevation of 6,646 ft as it climbs over the Continental Divide at Logan Pass.

People either love the GTTSR or they hate it. It has been called a "don't look down" kind of drive. Just use the turnouts when you do and you should be fine. In the photo below, you can see the road cut across the mountain in the upper right. Because of the sharp curves and narrowness of the road, vehicles longer than 21 feet are prohibited from traveling on the high-country sections.

This is the only road that completely bisects the park from one side to the other. It connects the eastern plains of Montana with the westernmost reach of the Pacific Northwest rain forest in West Glacier. Traveling the road takes you by glacial carved lakes, through prairies, aspen parklands, spruce-fir forests, old-growth forests of western red cedar, alpine meadows covered in wildflowers, by avalanche chutes, waterfalls and gorges carved by melt water and in view of one of the biggest glaciers still left in the park.

The road is currently going through a ten year rehabilitation. Construction on the road has a couple of sections reduced to one lane which means you have to stop and wait for a pilot car.

Here we are at one of those construction stops.

The wait time is usually only for about fifteen minutes and it gives you a chance to get out of your vehicle, look around and snap some photos. You can see the line of cars waiting behind the girls.

Lauren was definitely glad for a chance to get out of that Jeep!

Taken from the park website:
The road officially received its name, “The Going-to-the-Sun Road,” during the 1933 dedication.The road borrowed its name from nearby Going-to-the-Sun Mountain. Local legend and a 1933 press release issued by the Department of the Interior, told the story of the deity, Sour Spirit, who came down from the sun to teach Blackfeet braves the rudiments of the hunt. On his way back to the sun, Sour Spirit had his image reproduced on the top of the mountain for inspiration to the Blackfeet. An alternate story suggests a white explorer in the 1880s concocted the name and the legend. No matter which version is accurate, the road named Going-to-the-Sun still inspires all who travel it.

Don't roll over!

This road is one of the toughest roads to snowplow in North America. Up to 80 feet of snow can lie at the top of the road and plowing it can take up to ten weeks.

This is a view of Logan Pass from the west side of the road.

That's probably enough for now. Next time I will post pictures of what we saw when we reached the top of the road at Logan Pass.

Over the hill and through the woods...

...and down a dirt road at a top speed of 35mph (because that's about as fast as you can go and miss more potholes than you hit) is the small (understated), town (overstated) of Polebridge, Montana.

The first time I heard of Polebridge was my first season working in Glacier. I would hear rangers and interpreters and camp hosts telling each how they had just made a trip to Polebridge.

Ranger- "Are you guys talking about Polebridge? I went up there Thursday!"

Camp host- "Did you stop at the-"

Ranger- "I don't make the trip unless I do!"

Interp- "I love the cinn-"

Camp host- "Aren't they the best!"

All- "YES!"

What?! What are they talking about? Where's Polebridge? What's so fantastic about it? Why haven't I been yet? I didn't even know why I wanted to go but I did want to go. So my next lieu day, I went. And boy was I glad.

Polebridge sits right beside the northwestern part of the park called the North Fork, named for the north fork of the Flathead River which forms it's western border. The winter population is only about 25 and grows to around 200 in the summer. Polebridge is like stepping back in time. There are no stop lights, only a few buildings and people get their electricity from generators, kerosene, propane, solar or do without. As you drive up the dirt road to the town, no, village, no, maybe settlement or community, yeah, community, the one building that you immediately notice is the Polebridge Mercantile (mainly because it's the tallest and it says Polebridge Mercantile in big white letters across the front.)

This building, or rather what lies inside, is the reason that big scruffy rangers giggle with delight at the mere mention of Polebridge. Inside this nearly 100 year old building lies the absolute best baked goods I have ever, in my entire life, including hot Krispy Kreme donuts, had. I know, pretty strong statement, but it's true. This place is in the middle of nowhere and to hear people talk, its like the neighborhood drug dealer. "Oh, man! Did you say you're going to Polebridge? Would you snag me one of those sweet parmesan foccacia buns? Come on man! I could really use a fix. I'll pay you back! Promise!" I don't even like telling people that I'm going anymore or I'll be inundated with orders from everybody from maintenance to the guy in site C115, who would go himself but he's afraid he might blow the shocks on his brand new 38 foot rv on that "blasted" dirt road.

I've been telling Chrissy about Polebridge for two years now and finally I was able to take her and Lauren there today. We each picked out what we wanted to try, payed and drove to the river to enjoy. After Chrissy's first bite of a huckleberry macaroon I heard, "Oh wow. mmm. Wow. This is soooo good. It's not even chocolate! We have to stop on our way back and get more." Yes, Chrissy is now an addict and I am her pusher.

The inside of the "Merc", as locals call it.

Lauren picking her poison.

This is happiness.

Then we went into the park...

and drove to Bowman Lake.
This is the face of someone coming off a mochachino chip cookie "high."
This probably won't last past tomorrow...sad.

Fish Creek is OPEN!

So today the campground finally opened for the season. We had a grand total of three campers come in and two of those were reservations. Fish Creek is a reservation campground, one of two in the park. The other is St. Mary campground on the east side of the continental divide. If you'd like to make a reservation to camp, you can log on to http://www.recreation.gov/ and search campgrounds throughout the National Park Service. Glacier National Park has thirteen frontcountry campgrounds. The other twelve are available on a "first-come, first-served" basis. Out of those twelve, four are full time primitive campgrounds (no potable water or flushable toilets.)

After the work-day ended, the fam and I drove over to the Apgar boat dock on Lake McDonald. Even though the high today was only in the fifties, Lauren wanted to go swimming. I told her that the lake is fed by glacial runoff but she wasn't listening.

Lauren going in...

and coming right back out!
The two sensible parents who stayed dry.

After dinner we decided to take a drive up the Inside North Fork Road (as opposed to the Outside North Fork Road. No really, there is one.) We're driving along, enjoying the scenery, when what do we see?

This guy!

Not a bad way to end the day.