A walk in the park

By HEIDI GAISER

Floral Park journey well worth the challenge

The Daily Inter Lake

Our little group of hikers shared a vision of what the Floral Park hike would be like before we started.

We knew the hike took us cross-country from Logan Pass in Glacier National Park to Lake McDonald Lodge, a mere 3,400-foot elevation loss over many miles. We imagined a long but fairly simple downhill trek through a lush valley that rested in the shadows of Glacier's towering peaks, filled with wildflowers and maybe a grazing mountain goat or two.

So when my family (two adults and two teenage boys) and Columbia Falls friend Wes Knutson followed Doug Cordier into the backcountry of Glacier on Monday, stood at the top of a ridge reached after much pain and suffering, and were told we would be making our way to Floral Park down a slope that was practically vertical, then regaining that elevation again with a climb to Sperry Glacier, it was a good lesson in the worth of preconceived notions.

Estimates of mileage for the Floral Park hike range from 18 to 20-plus. But whatever its length, it is a grueling, arduous, slow and occasionally treacherous undertaking.

It also takes hikers through some of the park's most spectacular landscapes, among amazing rock formations and past brilliant high mountain lakes, all viewed, at least on the day we went, in absolute solitude.

Cordier, of Columbia Falls, had completed the route two years before. He didn't share many details going in, but did tell us we'd need to get going early, so we arrived at Logan Pass about 8 a.m. and actually took the very first parking slot next to the visitors center - an unprecedented event right there. Surely it would be a good day with such a fortunate beginning.

We hiked alone up the boardwalk, also a rare delight, and down into Hidden Lake. The first time Cordier had done the hike, his group walked to the end of Hidden Lake before heading straight up a scree slope to reach the high ridge south of Bearhat Mountain. We made a decision to try a different route - it was probably not the wisest decision.

After literally pulling ourselves up the side of the hill, using available brush and precarious footholds on a grassy slope, we then had to angle away from Bearhat across a basin on loose scree. It was sidehilling of the worst

kind and Cordier and myself, the slow members of the group, gauged each step to the point that we ended up trailing considerably.

We were so focused on our feet, in fact, that we found out once we caught up with the group that we had unknowingly walked within arm's reach of a mountain goat mom and quite a few kids.

Once we hit the ridge, with stunning view of Glacier's peaks on all sides, walking became a normal process once again. That is, until I came close to the edge of the rocky outcropping, and dropped to my stomach because I have irrational fears of falling off of the edge of a cliff that sits miles above Avalanche Lake.

This is where we learned the cold hard truth - this hike was not getting easier. We had already completed a nasty navigational challenge, and now had to drop into Floral Park from a much higher altitude. And we didn't get lunch until we'd done so.

It was a long, slow, careful, deliberate trip down. I turned my ankle and fell, thankfully toward the bottom of the slope. My first fear was that, as the only woman in group, I would disgrace my gender by requiring helicopter rescue. But it only took a few steps to shake it off, and I was soon at the lake, where we ate, soaked our feet in the water, and mustered strength for the climb up to the glacier.

There were almost no flowers in Floral Park, and the views were slightly hazed with smoke, but still, it was an excellent lunch spot.

Heading up to Sperry Glacier looked intimidating, but it actually was one of the easiest legs of the journey. The footing was perfect and the pitch wasn't unpleasantly steep.

The rock formations were stunning at the base of the glacier, wavy surfaces formed in ribbons of red, yellow, green.

There were lovely lakes of unusual color up there as well. A milky turquoise lake sat directly aside a pristine green-blue body of water, both narrow, both following the curve of the rocks which one could only guess were carved by melt from the glacier above.

Then ahead of us was Sperry Glacier itself, a wide beautiful expanse of snow and ice set in a vast basin.

Our destination from there was Comeau Pass on the other side of the glacier, where the trail down to Sperry Chalet began. We started off toward the pass after filling our bags and bottles with pure icy glacier water.

The initial plan was to try to avoid crossing the glacier; somehow, we ended up walking directly across it.

A sign on the marker for Sperry Glacier on the other side of the glacier states "Don't cross the glacier alone," which we didn't do, but it was still an unsettling warning and a good thing I didn't see that sign prior to the crossing.

The surface of the glacier seemed stable enough and it wasn't steep, but there were spots where footing became sloppy and slippery. There were icy spots. There was water running across the surface. There was a narrow crevasse we had to jump. I was thrilled to finally reach the solid rock on the other side.

From there, a number of large cairns guide hikers to a steep narrow rock staircase, hard on the knees after hours on the trail, that deposited us onto a well-established trail for the rest of the trip.

When we reached the trail for the descent toward Lake McDonald, it was 5 p.m.; it had taken us four hours to travel from Floral Park to the trail. We still had nine miles to go.

The trip from the Sperry Glacier area to Sperry Chalet is as magnificent as the previous legs of the trip, with towering mountains surrounding the trail, more fascinating rock formations, and waterfalls and flowers everywhere.

But then there are the infamous six miles from Sperry Chalet to Lake McDonald, a dusty descent of 3,400 feet into thick trees, and on this day, smoke and heat. But at that point, we were so exhausted that a mindless trudge through scenery that was no longer so extraordinary was probably for the best.

Coincidentally, that 3,400 feet drop is the same number of vertical feet from Logan Pass, at an altitude of 6,600 feet, to Lake McDonald, which sits at 3,200 feet.

But with all the climbs and descents, how many vertical feet we actually traveled in between is anyone's guess - and a good thing not to know beforehand.

Reporter Heidi Gaiser may be reached at 758-4431 or by e-mail at hgaiser@dailyinterlake.com