Spring skiing: Andrea Stierle emailed early last week suggesting a cross country trek from Deep Creek on the Big Hole (east slope) side to German Gulch on the Silver Bow Cr/Clark Fork (west slope) of the Continental Divide. It's not a trivial tour: 11 miles total with a 900 foot climb in the first 4 miles and a 2,000 foot drop in the second 7 miles. Of course, I did not figure this out until after the tour when we posed the curious question: "How far was that?" Here's the route, marked by the blue dog leash, and of course it unwinds along the corners of four separate topographic maps:
Before the trip, the questions floated around: How is the snow up along the Divide (i.e. is the surface set up, is it icy wind pack)? No one knew. Does anyone have this plotted out on a GPS? Nope. Does anyone know the exact route? Ah, no. But everyone had made some version of the trek before, and we have a lot of collective hiking experience (and, in my case, elk hunting time) along most of the route.
So, let's go! First drop Mike's truck on the German Gulch Rd above Fairmount Hot Springs ("Oh yeah--the front end is out, so no 4WD. We can't drive in quite to the gate..."). Starting out from the Mill Creek highway near Sugarloaf Mountain are (from left) Mike Stickney, Andrea and Don Stierle, Chukah the Dog, Larry Smith, and Chuck the Dog:
Perfect weather--sunny and in the 20s deg F starting out, several inches of fresh snow a few days ago. Afternoons have been warm (40s deg F) and so the snow is generally firm. Everyone was on lightweight touring equipment: traditional length, waxable (mine with Swix purple the full lenghth), "back country" skis with leather boots. Mike, Larry, and Don are superb telemark skiers. Andrea has logged a lot of backcountry miles. Yikes, what was I getting into?
We paused a few minutes after the steep climb from Sugarloaf on a rolling high flank of the Divide. Sadly, Andrea had knee surgery recently, and decided (before the steep climb) to turn back, have a ski on the Little California loop at the nearby groomed cross country trails, and then go for a soak and meet us at Fairmount Hot Springs. Here's the group with a look back to the Pintler mountains (Sugarloaf is the round-top on the right):
And here they go across the top of the world (you can tell that Chukah is the young dog, out in front):
Up and across the Divide, we then found a ridge running east toward Butte. The skiing here was fantastic, and I wish I had captured Mike's graceful tele-turns on video. And I'm glad no one captured my occasional face plant.The route did get a little confusing. After some deliberation (which actually involved getting out the maps!) we thought we were on a Forest Service road leading down Beaver/Beefstraight Creeks, tributaries of German Gulch Creek. Time for a quick lunch:
Then some more confusion as the ridge twisted and turned and split. But we found a narrow trail (unsullied by snowmachines) running in more-or-less the right direction. And, as Mike pointed out, "It'll lead somplace." Good enough. And what a great ski down! Here's Larry with Chuck on his heels:
By some fine stroke of luck ("No, no. It was superior map reading skills and the inherently correct male sense of direction.") we had found the Whitepine Creek pack trail (which, even though I frequently hunt that area, did not know existed). This led us to the German Gulch Rd, not a mile from where we were parked, and just 5 hours after we began. You can tell by the happy faces just how good that long downhill run was:
Yesterday, walking around campus and looking west to the Divide where we had skied over, I thought, "We should do this every weekend." As Don pointed out, however, we really did luck out with perfect snow and weather conditions. On an average winter day, the wind is blasting along the Divide hard enough to knock you down. A week earlier and the snow might have had no bottom. A week later and it might be treacherous icy crust. Allah be praised, life is good, we hit it just right.
The Continental Divide is just a line on a map. It's how we think about it that makes it significant as a boundary, as a symbolic barrier to be crossed heroically. But no, that's not fully true either: it's not merely a thought-construction. It's a genuine barrier to many kinds of flora and fauna, the weather and climate vary, and -- as geologists Mike and Larry can explain -- there are other, very real, differences.
And so it is with life. It is full of diverse kinds of Divides. Many, perhaps, are merely psychologically or socially constructed. But many also have deeply real qualities that may transcends our limited grasp. Some people play it safe, and try never to cross. One thing is for certain: you don't get the exhilirating run down without the hard climb up.
Though the weather has been seasonal of late with 80 deg F days and 40 deg F nights at 6,000 feet elevation in Butte, we still opted for an early morning start. It's not a long (c. 8 miles) nor especially steep (c. 2500 foot elevation gain) hike, but it is nice to travel in the cool of the day. While stashing a few beers in the creek near the Fishtrap Creek trailhead for the ride home, I discovered this Pine Marten set constructed by some fur trapper:
Mornings are also active critter time, and we busted some elk from where the trail crosses a big wet meadow, and the dogs nosed into several spruce grouse (aka fool hens, for their habit of sitting in a tree just a few feet away). The grouse were feeding on grouse whortleberry and grasshoppers--both are numerous this year:
We also came across a lot of "doodlebug" or antlion pits, including this exceptional colony:
If I were an ant living in this area, I'd want to be named Daniel. Even in the wilderness, there are some historical tracks of a working landscape, such as this irrigation ditch that moves water many miles from the headwater diversion:
Our first day in, we rested through the heat of the afternoon and then hiked above treeline to Lost Lakes where Don spotted a group of 6 or 7 goats working their way along the ridge to the left of the lower lake, and we took in the fantastic view:
The area's height and location help in capturing a lot of snow. Even in the driest and hottest of summers, the big snow cornice along Saddle Ridge lasts all summer long, as does the glacier along the upper lake. Yes, it is a true glacier, and the only one in the Pintler, according to Don Nyquist, a National Weather Service observer, meteorologist, and Anaconda resident. Don says a key characteristic that makes this a glacier is the formation of firn--"the metamorphic layer of dense, granular snow between the accumulation area (new snow) and glacial land ice." Here's a photo of the upper lake and its glacier (West Goat Peak is on the far right of the snow cornice just below the ridge):
The approach to West Goat Peak is very pleasant with very little scree (as Pintler peak bagging goes). Here's Don picking his way along the ridge, with the fantastic vertical goat cliffs on his right:
Chooka and RTD did a lot of goat- & pika-sniffing on the way up, and once on the summit they were content to rest. Here's the pup, with Warren Peak in the background (easily bagged from Edith Lake):
The morning haze from our numerous local forest fires thickened throughout the day. With clear air, the distant views from W Goat are tremendous, but even the "close" view of the alpine meadow leading down to Lost Lakes is pretty sweet:
Just as we finished supper that evening, a big thunderstorm swept through. This is why I prefer to camp down in the timber, and not on the barren ground around Lost Lakes. As RTD and I lay in the tent watching through the vestibule door as lightning flashed and crashed, I took a moment to appreciate the difference between Pink Mountain Heath (Phyllodoce empetriformis):
And Merten's Mountain Heather (Cassiope mertensiana):
These lovely evergreen species carpet much of the Pintler high country, along with other familiar species such as Alpine Gentians (Gentiana calycosa), the leaves of which make a tasty and mildly psychotropic tonic:
Though the flowers have faded, I also like the Elk Thistle (Cirsium foliosum):
From home today, I took a morning walk to Big Butte before spending a few hours laying rock on the new retaining wall in the backyard. The smoke was not too bad, and I could just make out East Goat Peak, Saddle Mountain, and West Goat Peak through the fire haze. Already, the good memory of West Goat Peak is getting me through another year. 
