Kieran on Mt Oberlin trail |
Trail patrol is one of those marvelous
“jobs” which make you embarrassed to call it work. Yes, you must
go to training and study everything from wildlife management to law
enforcement procedures to search and rescue. But that's enjoyable
as well as educational in itself.
Trail patrol is no more dangerous
than regular hiking so I took my grandson, Kieran, with me one day so
he could experience the wilderness from a trail that isn't even on an
official park map. We started up the climber's trail that leads to
the summit of Mt Oberlin. Mt. Oberlin is one of the easier mountains
in Glacier National Park to climb but that still doesn't make it easy
unless you are an experienced climber. I had been up Mt Oberlin a
couple of times in the weeks prior so I knew that we could go quite a
way up the mountain before it would be too dangerous for Kieran.
It was a lovely day for climbing. It
was a lovely day to do anything outside. It was a bit warmer than
usual. The temperature was in the mid 60s. The reason they have us
patrolling a climber's trail that isn't on the park map is that much
of it goes through closures. Closures are areas that are legally
closed to people either because the area is a sensitive wildlife
habitat or there is fragile vegetation. The side of the mountain we
were climbing was covered with very fragile sub-alpine vegetation
with numerous large meadows. Somehow visitors who are not climbers
get on this trail, see the official trail they want on the other side
of a large meadow and want to cut across. My job is to keep this from
happening in my best Ranger Friendly manner.
We had not gone half a mile up the
mountain and were going through a narrow rocky pass between two of
the large meadows when the trail was blocked by a large mountain goat
billy. Kieran and I had talked about how we are supposed to act when
we encounter wildlife. He could even quote the rule that one is
supposed to stay 100 yards from bears, moose and mountain lions and
25 yards from all other wildlife. We were no way near 25 yards away.
More like 25 feet. We moved back and the goat moved with us. He
never acted aggressive. He walked with he head high. If he were being
aggressive he would have held his head lower so he could use his
horns. But he was displaying a behavior that, according to goat expert Douglas Chadwick(1), is often seen when an older billy is
establishing his dominance with a newcomer. Dr. Chadwick tells the story of how, while
doing his research in Glacier National Park, the goats had let him
actually stay among them and a billy had displayed this same behavior
as though to say “you can be here but I'm the boss.” That is
what this billy was doing to us. We finally stopped and stood still
as the big billy practically stepped on our feet as he passed us. It
was an exciting encounter for both of us. I have been very close to
many mountain goats but this was the first time that I had observed
this behavior.
A short distance up the trail we came
to a water tank. It sat where it was out of sight of the visitor
center in the mountain pass below. I told Kieran that a friend and
fellow volunteer had helped build the tank and move it to this spot.
People don't stop to think about how a visitor's center in a mountain
pass twenty miles from the nearest village gets water. The tank had
to be lifted up the mountain by helicopter and then reassembled. It
was strenuous and dangerous work. Not three weeks after Kieran's
first time up the mountain we would encounter a small group of hikers
descending at this very point. Not twenty yards further up the mountain after
encountering those hikers I would respond to a radio call from Glacier dispatch that a climber had fallen on Mt. Oberlin. It was my day off but I
was on the mountain already well ahead of other rescuers. I notified
dispatch of my presence and said that I would locate the climber and
stay with them until the rescue crew could get there. Pamela, Kieran
and I would spend an hour climbing as quickly as possible to over 7,000
feet but finding no injured climber. It turned out that she had walked
out with the group we had met by the water tower
and left without telling anyone she was safe. It was somewhat fortuitous because it put me at a much higher elevation than I would have been at our original pace. That's when I spotted the forest fire that had just started. When I first saw it, it looked like a ribbon of campfire smoke coming up from the trees. Within minutes there were clouds of smoke billowing upwards. I was among the first, if not the first, to report it. It eventually burned over 4,000 acres. But that's another story I'll share some day.
and left without telling anyone she was safe. It was somewhat fortuitous because it put me at a much higher elevation than I would have been at our original pace. That's when I spotted the forest fire that had just started. When I first saw it, it looked like a ribbon of campfire smoke coming up from the trees. Within minutes there were clouds of smoke billowing upwards. I was among the first, if not the first, to report it. It eventually burned over 4,000 acres. But that's another story I'll share some day.
Kieran was anxious to hike through
snow. Under normal circumstances there would still have been plenty
of snow. Normally there would still be 4-5 feet of snow at this altitude in late
July but this was an unusually dry and warm year. Like good mountain trekkers we had cleats hanging from our backpacks just in case and Kieran was anxious to get to use them. Little more than a hundred yards up the mountain from the water tank Kieran got his first snow and faced his first ford across a fast moving mountain stream.
July but this was an unusually dry and warm year. Like good mountain trekkers we had cleats hanging from our backpacks just in case and Kieran was anxious to get to use them. Little more than a hundred yards up the mountain from the water tank Kieran got his first snow and faced his first ford across a fast moving mountain stream.
Before us was a beautiful stream
cascading down the mountain. To our left was steep outcropping of
rock over which the stream flowed in a plethora of miniature falls. It
flowed through a field of snow making the water icy cold. To our
right the stream dropped off at a steep angle down a hundred feet or
more to the meadow below. Kieran was faced with the task of crossing
this without getting any wetter than necessary.
When Kieran was preparing for his 30
days visit with us in the wilderness his Mother had asked about what
he needed. At the top of the list was a pair of good hiking boots.
It is impossible to emphasize enough the importance of good
footwear. At first Kieran thought my gaiters were a bit funny. By
the third or fourth major hike he was wearing my shorter summer
gaiters while I wore my high winter gaiters. Kieran had arrived at
Glacier with a good pair of boots. They were very good for comfort
and safety. They were not as water resistant as my Keens, but kudos
for Mom and a good choice.
It was as he was carefully picking his
way across the snowfield and fording the stream that Kieran became
aware of one of the most important pieces of the trekker's equipment
– trail poles. For several years I have been a trail runner doing
ultras (50-100 mile runs or races) through extreme environments and
dreaming of doing one really classic extreme ultra before my running
days were over. In my pictures of people doing the famous Mont Blanc 150km ultra one will notice that they all use poles even though they are running.
Even for the youngest trekker or trail runner poles are important
for balance and safety. I had given Kieran some instruction on using
his poles, which I was sure he had ignored, but here he proved that
he had indeed been listening. He did a great job of traversing the
stream and getting to the other side with dry feet.
Lunch-time view |
We climbed another 50-60 feet in
elevation up some steep and slippery rock faces to a large and broad
meadow. It was a great place to have lunch. We had a marvelous view
of the valley almost 4,000 feet below. We also had plenty of space
between us and any creatures that we might attract with our food. There was no way they could sneak up on us.
Kieran was getting tired. We had climbed the better part of 1,000 feet in elevation from the Visitor's Center at Logan Pass. Kieran had not been with us more than a couple of days. He was using muscles that he probably didn't even use in karate or at least in a different way. He was over 6,500 feet higher than his home in Alabama. I was very proud of him for having climbed to over 7,000 feet but I knew that he had to be feeling the effects of altitude.
Altitude sickness is very real and can be frightening. It is not uncommon for some people to start noticing it at elevations of 6-7,000 feet. Actually the body is dealing with it at a much lower elevation but one doesn't become conscious of it until higher altitudes. Many of our campers at Sprague Creek - only 3200 feet elevation and the lowest point in the Rocky Mountains - would complain of difficulty sleeping and tiring easily. They were dealing with altitude. Visitors to Denver will notice the altitude and Denver is about 2,000 feet below Kieran's highest point on this day. Pamela and I had never had any altitude problems until we were at Rocky Mountain National Park where we were camped at 8,500 feet and hiking at 12,000 feet. At night, when we were trying to sleep, we would feel like we were having trouble breathing. And we had already spent 90 days in the Rocky Mountains at 3,200-7,000 feet.
I let Kieran pick a goal for our climb. He picked a point some 40-50 feet elevation beyond where we had lunch and about another few tenths of a mile. He was being a trooper but he was ready to go back.
We started down the mountain about one or two o'clock. We were at the waterfall when we saw a group of people standing on a ledge looking down into the McDonald Creek Valley. It was a marvelous spot with a magnificent view. The problem was that they had to have traversed almost 100 yards of fragile sub-alpine vegetation to get there. There was a small gully that ran down to the ledge, but there was no way that at least a dozen people went that far without tromping through the vegetation. A long-term trampling study that had been conducted in this very area found that it takes well over 50 years for this sub-alpine vegetation to recover from such abuse. As we drew near I called to the people on the ledge. I wasn't going to trample the vegetation to get to them. Besides my voice is very resonant. Some people might say I have a loud mouth, but I prefer resonant. In any case the group was very responsive and returned to the trail.
Using my best Ranger Friendly voice and approach I explained why I had called them back from the ledge. I pointed out the fragile vegetation that had been damaged and asked them to please remain on the trail. It wasn't until the person in front said "I'm the tour guide" that I noticed the name badges. Opps! But if the leader was a trained guide she should have known that they were going through a closure area and she should have known better than tromp across such fragile vegetation. Nevertheless I tried to give her a chance to recover, although it wasn't easy. This is one of the reasons that those of us who patrol these trail are here.
As they moved on up the mountain we heard the embarrassed guide saying “now watch out for vegetation on the trail.” Kieran looked back at the group and then at me. He had a smerk on his face that belied one ready to explode with laughter. Within moments that's what happened. “Watch out for vegetation on the trail?” He doubled over in laughter. Even today, if he sees a picture of Mt. Oberlin, or almost any mountain trail. He says in the most serious voice he can muster, “watch out for vegetation on the trail.”
I let Kieran pick a goal for our climb. He picked a point some 40-50 feet elevation beyond where we had lunch and about another few tenths of a mile. He was being a trooper but he was ready to go back.
We started down the mountain about one or two o'clock. We were at the waterfall when we saw a group of people standing on a ledge looking down into the McDonald Creek Valley. It was a marvelous spot with a magnificent view. The problem was that they had to have traversed almost 100 yards of fragile sub-alpine vegetation to get there. There was a small gully that ran down to the ledge, but there was no way that at least a dozen people went that far without tromping through the vegetation. A long-term trampling study that had been conducted in this very area found that it takes well over 50 years for this sub-alpine vegetation to recover from such abuse. As we drew near I called to the people on the ledge. I wasn't going to trample the vegetation to get to them. Besides my voice is very resonant. Some people might say I have a loud mouth, but I prefer resonant. In any case the group was very responsive and returned to the trail.
Using my best Ranger Friendly voice and approach I explained why I had called them back from the ledge. I pointed out the fragile vegetation that had been damaged and asked them to please remain on the trail. It wasn't until the person in front said "I'm the tour guide" that I noticed the name badges. Opps! But if the leader was a trained guide she should have known that they were going through a closure area and she should have known better than tromp across such fragile vegetation. Nevertheless I tried to give her a chance to recover, although it wasn't easy. This is one of the reasons that those of us who patrol these trail are here.
As they moved on up the mountain we heard the embarrassed guide saying “now watch out for vegetation on the trail.” Kieran looked back at the group and then at me. He had a smerk on his face that belied one ready to explode with laughter. Within moments that's what happened. “Watch out for vegetation on the trail?” He doubled over in laughter. Even today, if he sees a picture of Mt. Oberlin, or almost any mountain trail. He says in the most serious voice he can muster, “watch out for vegetation on the trail.”
We continued down to the Visitor Center at Logan Pass where we caught a shuttle down the beautiful Going-to-the-Sun Road to Sprague Creek Campground and home. It was a good day and great hike.
It it generally hard to know what a
twelve year old boy really thinks about an experience. You only get
an idea from what their parents tell you they say when they get
home. Kieran is a very high-tech child. If he doesn't end up an
aero-space engineer like his father I'll miss my guess.
Nevertheless, we live in hope that spending 30 days without computers
or television but hiking through mountains and kayaking high
wilderness lakes will instill an appreciation and love for the nature
of which we are all an integral part.