Exploring Howe Ridge

Howe Ridge burning during Robert Fire of 2003
Taken from the east side of Lake McDonald

Howe Ridge on the west side of Glacier National Park's Lake McDonald was one of the hot spots of the infamous Robert file of 2003. The heat along this ridge was so intense that people standing on the east side of the lake, almost two miles from the ridge, had to seek cover.  In 2014, Pamela and I hiked the trail along the lake at the foot of the ridge through the burn area.  You couldn't call it pretty, but you had to admire natures way of recovering.  Actually, fire is a very important part of the cycle of life in the woods which humans have attempted to alter. But that's another story.

In July of 2015 one of the campground hosts at Fish Creek Campground had to leave suddenly. Fish Creek is a large campground and too much for one couple to maintain for almost two months that remained in the season.  Pamela and I volunteered to work at the campground while our boss' boss found someone who could finish the season. This was the first time that we had worked in this part of the park.  Sprague Creek, where we spend the first half of the season, is about 11 miles into the park. Most of our activity is between there and Logan Pass. We only venture to the south end of Lake McDonald when we have meetings, are visiting friends or need to get a telephone signal.

Map of Howe Ridge Trail (yellow) from satellite photo

In exploring our new territory my attention was drawn to the Howe Ridge Trail.  I knew that the southern trailhead was on the Inner-Camus Road, a dirt road that runs up to Polebridge but hasn't been totally open for many years. I knew that the entire trail was inside the Robert fire burn area. It would not be a tree-covered hike.  Despite what I thought I knew and what I thought I was prepared for, I was wrong.

The trailhead

Since we were living only about 2 miles from the trailhead, I decided not to drive. That was a good decision.  Even though you have to go very slowly along this section of the Inner Camus Road, I could have missed the sign and there was no parking area. If I didn't have my topographic map with me which told me where the trailhead should be, I could have missed it hiking. Had it really been that long since anyone hiked the Howe Ridge Trail?  Evidently. The Lake McDonald Trail, which can actually be seen in the above photo running along the lake, is easy to see on a satellite photo. Not so the Howe Ridge Trail.

Wildflowers were magnificent

It became evident that no one had been on this trail for a really long time when I found it difficult to follow the trail. The new growth that followed the fire had almost totally obscured the trail and at times I wasn't sure if I wasn't following a small animal run.  The only reason that I was confident that I was on the trail was that I'm confident of my topographic map skills and they said I was on the trail. Before starting a steep ascent to to the top of the 4,668 foot ridge of lateral moraine I passed through a heavy stand of saplings and wild flowers with the skeletons of burned trees around me. After about a half mile I was beginning the ascent. The trail ran along the side of the ridge, open and barren, with a panoramic view of the burn area opening up in all directions.

One thing to which I did give serious consideration was wildlife. Right across the valley is an area which is frequently closed because of Mountain Lion activity.  Up the road, just a short distance west and north is an area where you can almost always count on a bear.  I was on a trail that was so overgrown that I couldn't see more than a few yards in any direction until I got a couple of hundred feet up the side of the ridge. So I had to decide whether I wanted to hike that first half mile alone in such density. I didn't know that it would start opening up in about a half mile, so I decided if it didn't get better soon I'd scrub the hike.  I hiked along singing loudly. When I wasn't singing I would talk to brother and sister bear as though they were standing right there which they could have been without being seen.

It might be good to share with those of you who are new to my wilderness stories to know that I do have a lot of back-country experience. I remind my children that I'm adventuresome not foolhardy. Most of my previous solo back-country adventures had been ultra trail runs in the eastern mountains. The only reason that I had been doing the trail patrol - about 8-15 miles of trails a week - alone and so many solo hikes is because Pamela's knees were bone-on-bone.  She would have bi-lateral (both knees) complete knee replacement in December. Even when I'm doing a day hike of 10 miles or less, like this hike, I go prepared to be gone as long as it takes. That means carrying my 20 pound survival pack complete with survival kit, 4L of water, food and a number of emergency devices like ResQLink and SteriPen.  Actually you won't find me leaving a paved road without it. You don't have to be 50 miles from civilization to need such a pack.  You will also notice ice cleats hanging from the pack. They are always there. On June 23rd 2014 we had almost 30 inches of snow at elevations above 6,000 feet. Occasionally someone will tease me a bit because I always wear gaiters and use trail poles, but I've never been teased by anyone with real back-country experience.

The trail began to open as I
gained elevation. 

Looking northwest  

Even as the trail opened I continued to sing. By this time it just seemed the thing to do and I was enjoying it.  The only time I stopped was when I stopped to admire the view.  I had learned a lot about how a forest recovers after a fire but here I was seeing it in person. Granted it had been 12 years but the process was right before me. The wild flowers were thick. Following the growth of flowers and shrubs come the Lodgepole pines. The cones of the Lodgepole are pyriscent. They need fire to reproduce. The fire melts a resin that seals the cones and releases the seeds.  It is knowing that fire is a necessary and beneficial part of the cycle of life of a forest that makes this hike so enriching. I look out over the new growth and stand in awe of the power of nature.

I arrived at the  top of the ridge, 4,668 feet up  and 1,468 feet above where I started at the Fish Creek Campground.  After 12 years the shrubs and new growth were about my height. I had been anxious to see the view from the top of the ridge but, alas, all I could see was the new growth. The picture below was taken by climbing up on a large pile of fallen trees.

Lake McDonald from atop Howe Ridge

 The new growth at the top of the ridge was as thick as it was at the trailhead. I couldn't see a thing except the teenage Lodgepole pines and shrubs around me. The trail again became very narrow and overgrown. Not wishing to push my luck with the local inhabitants  I decided to turn back. Anyway, the next point to descend to the lake was 7 - 8 miles further down the trail and it was already mid-afternoon. I had indeed gone where no one had been for an exceptionally long time. It had been an enjoyable adventure.

On my way back to the Inner Camus Road I started singing as I came off the side of the ridge. I had not gone half the distance from the ridge to the road when I heard noise to my left. With the thickness of the undergrowth it would have been difficult for anything other than a snake - of which there are very few in the Rocky Mountains - to pass without making some noise. To me whatever was there sounded big. Perhaps I sounded big to them as well.  It was as though whatever was making the noise had also stopped to listen. There was silence when I stopped.

Osprey nest

"Friend bear," I said in a loud voice, "I'm just on my way back to the road. I'll continue on my way, if you don't mind, and leave you in peace."  Perhaps friend bear understood me, but the next thing I knew the sound was moving in the opposite direction of me. With a sigh of relief I walked back to the road, waved good-bye to friend bear and anyone else on the mountain who might have heard, and started the two mile hike home.

It had been an outstanding afternoon. I got to witness the process of restoration of a forest. I will definitely be going back to watch with wonder at the development of a new forest over the coming years. With a plethora of varieties of wildflowers, I spent a lot of time on the return trip taking pictures of wildflowers for Pamela's book.  As I hiked along I noticed an Osprey nest high on top of a burned lodge pole. This nest is a short distance, as the Osprey flies, from Lake McDonald.  The Osprey is a large raptor whose diet is fish and is sometimes called a Fish Hawk. As I crossed the almost dry Fish Creek I looked up at the dark threatening sky and hoped for rain. Unfortunately it did not come. We went well over three months with only 4 days of rain.  As I approached the entrance kiosk one of the rangers called a greeting. I stopped to share my adventure with them then made my way back to camp where Pamela and my grandson, Kieran, had been having their own adventure along Lake McDonald.

So often we seek out "beautiful" hikes.  But what is beauty?  There are many things and many places that, from a picture, we would label "not pretty" or even "ugly", but when experienced up-close-and-personal turn out to have their own beauty.  I think we are so geared to fear and hate fire that we do not see the magnificent and beautiful process of rejuvenation that is the result of a forest fire. I have learned in some of the wildlife and ecology classes I've taken that most of the burn areas that take the longest to recover are those where human's have tried to intervene.  In many areas a forest needs to burn every 50-80 years.  I guess that others share my fear; viz. that the general public will see the burn area as unsightly and visitation will drop until some pencil pusher decides to sell off the burned area. There is a magnificence, not beauty, but magnificence in watching a forest come to life after a fire. It is like watching a new birth.