Good Evening,
I am going to tell you a tale. A tale of cold, wet water. A tale of a portly bald man with a farmers tan.
A tale…..Of Whitecrow Lake!
Whitecrow Lake sits at the base of the largest mountain in the park, Mount Cleveland. It also sits at the base of one of the most charismatic mountains in Glacier, Stoney Indian Peaks.
This Whitecrow Lake I speak of could have been anywhere on Tuesday, as it was shrouded in clouds.
Allow me to digress.
There is an amazing place called the Belly River Ranger Station and my friends live there. A few of us were given the luxury of staying there for our weekend, as long as we kept an eye on it in their absence.
A deal is what that is. A deal!!
To get there we hiked in six miles and at the time the views were amazing.
As we sat there waiting on the rest of our party, the rain and clouds rolled in.
By nightfall it was as if there were no mountains. 
Only rolling forested hills could still be seen though the white misty haze.
A perfect way to start a large day with the intent of swimming.
On Tuesday morning my friends Pat and Brian and I headed off for Whitecrow Lake. This was going to be a long day.
To even get to the point that we could start moving off trail and up towards the bowl that holds Whitecrow we had to walk seven miles.
So, bushwhack aside, we had a 14 mile day plus what ever else we would find.
It passed rather quickly and we started working our way through brambles of vegetation.
UP and UP and UP we went. It was strange because although it was not raining at the time, we eventually walked up the slope far enough to have reached the cloud cover.
If you have ever stood in a cloud, you know that while it is not exactly raining, it certainly is not dry.
There is moisture suspended in air and it coats everything around you. Hard to explain, but you get wet. That is the main point.
The lake was still lovely as is, but it would have been much more spectacular on a nice day. To have the largest mountain in the park looming large above it and assisted by the gnarly spires of the Stoney Indian Peaks.
I can only imagine.
Imagine, I must.
For, there were no mountains. Only lake. And mist..
Thanks to the "Hairy Beans" going for a swim was not a lonely endeavor.
I would like to propose a toast to those knuckleheads that go swimming with me on a 50 degree day in a frigid lake that is suspended in clouds. Yeah!!
I would like to give a shout out to "The Babb Press" for one of the greatest sandwiches that I have ever eaten on trail in my life.
Look at this thing, I can hardly force it in my mouth....Thanks guys!!
Back to the story,...Oh, and the “Hairy Beans” is our band name.
We officially lost our mind on the trip and adopted that as our band name. Our main song was a Muppets tune. Most have never heard it, but it goes……”Mahna Mahna”…..Over and over again. Luckily there is a cool whistling part in it too. But the phrase for the day was “Mahna Mahna”. Look it up, it’s a killer tune. A crazy nonlingual muppet monster sings it. Good stuff…
This is your musical act for the evening. Lets give it up for the "Hairy Beans"!!!
Anyway…
We sang over and over again as we made our way back down through the alders and crud.
Alders make for great rappelling. They don’t get out of your way easily, but they don’t rip out either.
So you can rappel down the slope one alder after another…
For a few moments it cleared up enough to see Mokawanis Lake and Margaret and Ipasha Lakes. I still need the latter two.
Someday... I’m coming for you two...
It was great to get back to the ranger station that night. We found a stash of Spam and decided that it was high time for the “Great Belly River Spam Fry”.
It in no way was high time for the spam fry. It never was and never will be a good time for a spam fry. It was as terrible as you can imagine it.
Laughter it made, calm bellies it did not.
I wanted to include this very nice picture of Brian who acted as out official "get the mouse out of the trap" guy that weekend.
Everybody say, "Thanks Brian"!!
All in all, a spectacular trip.
Wet as it gets. On the way out had turned to absolute muddy muck.
It has been a bizarrely wet season. We have had over three times the normal amount of precipitation.
Speaking of. As I write this it is raining and snowing out. Tonight the mountains around here are getting a nice dusting. August 14th…Eeeehhhh It’s going to make for an even shorter summer.
So, get out there and enjoy it. Its fleeting, that is for sure.
I wish all well this fine evening. Safe travels to where you may be going. Like a friend of mines dad used to say. “Keep it between the ditches”.
A great rule…Stick to it…
To Life,
Marc
I am going to tell you a tale. A tale of cold, wet water. A tale of a portly bald man with a farmers tan.
A tale…..Of Whitecrow Lake!
Whitecrow Lake sits at the base of the largest mountain in the park, Mount Cleveland. It also sits at the base of one of the most charismatic mountains in Glacier, Stoney Indian Peaks.
This Whitecrow Lake I speak of could have been anywhere on Tuesday, as it was shrouded in clouds.
Allow me to digress.
There is an amazing place called the Belly River Ranger Station and my friends live there. A few of us were given the luxury of staying there for our weekend, as long as we kept an eye on it in their absence.
A deal is what that is. A deal!!
To get there we hiked in six miles and at the time the views were amazing.
As we sat there waiting on the rest of our party, the rain and clouds rolled in.
By nightfall it was as if there were no mountains. Only rolling forested hills could still be seen though the white misty haze.A perfect way to start a large day with the intent of swimming.
On Tuesday morning my friends Pat and Brian and I headed off for Whitecrow Lake. This was going to be a long day.
To even get to the point that we could start moving off trail and up towards the bowl that holds Whitecrow we had to walk seven miles.
So, bushwhack aside, we had a 14 mile day plus what ever else we would find.
It passed rather quickly and we started working our way through brambles of vegetation.
UP and UP and UP we went. It was strange because although it was not raining at the time, we eventually walked up the slope far enough to have reached the cloud cover.
If you have ever stood in a cloud, you know that while it is not exactly raining, it certainly is not dry.
There is moisture suspended in air and it coats everything around you. Hard to explain, but you get wet. That is the main point.
The lake was still lovely as is, but it would have been much more spectacular on a nice day. To have the largest mountain in the park looming large above it and assisted by the gnarly spires of the Stoney Indian Peaks.
I can only imagine.
Imagine, I must.
For, there were no mountains. Only lake. And mist..
Thanks to the "Hairy Beans" going for a swim was not a lonely endeavor.
I would like to propose a toast to those knuckleheads that go swimming with me on a 50 degree day in a frigid lake that is suspended in clouds. Yeah!!
I would like to give a shout out to "The Babb Press" for one of the greatest sandwiches that I have ever eaten on trail in my life.
Look at this thing, I can hardly force it in my mouth....Thanks guys!!
Back to the story,...Oh, and the “Hairy Beans” is our band name.
We officially lost our mind on the trip and adopted that as our band name. Our main song was a Muppets tune. Most have never heard it, but it goes……”Mahna Mahna”…..Over and over again. Luckily there is a cool whistling part in it too. But the phrase for the day was “Mahna Mahna”. Look it up, it’s a killer tune. A crazy nonlingual muppet monster sings it. Good stuff…
This is your musical act for the evening. Lets give it up for the "Hairy Beans"!!!
Anyway…
We sang over and over again as we made our way back down through the alders and crud.
Alders make for great rappelling. They don’t get out of your way easily, but they don’t rip out either.
So you can rappel down the slope one alder after another…
For a few moments it cleared up enough to see Mokawanis Lake and Margaret and Ipasha Lakes. I still need the latter two.
Someday... I’m coming for you two...
It was great to get back to the ranger station that night. We found a stash of Spam and decided that it was high time for the “Great Belly River Spam Fry”.
It in no way was high time for the spam fry. It never was and never will be a good time for a spam fry. It was as terrible as you can imagine it.
Laughter it made, calm bellies it did not.
I wanted to include this very nice picture of Brian who acted as out official "get the mouse out of the trap" guy that weekend.
Everybody say, "Thanks Brian"!!All in all, a spectacular trip.
Wet as it gets. On the way out had turned to absolute muddy muck. It has been a bizarrely wet season. We have had over three times the normal amount of precipitation.Speaking of. As I write this it is raining and snowing out. Tonight the mountains around here are getting a nice dusting. August 14th…Eeeehhhh It’s going to make for an even shorter summer.
So, get out there and enjoy it. Its fleeting, that is for sure.
I wish all well this fine evening. Safe travels to where you may be going. Like a friend of mines dad used to say. “Keep it between the ditches”.
A great rule…Stick to it…
To Life,
Marc
No comments:
Post a Comment