Glacier and Banff National Parks Backpacking, 9-9-85,

In 1984 and 1985 I lived in Butte, Montana working for a company as an exploration geologist. This put me in the heart of some of the best outdoor areas in the country, but without much free time to explore them. The field season in Montana is short, and cramming a full workload into the brief summer doesn’t leave much spare time. But I was able to get away to the Wind Rivers (1984 Winds) the previous summer, and had made a few weekend trips (including a backpacking trip to Lincoln Lake in Glacier) earlier in 1985.

While I was perched precariously in Montana, Buddy and I decided to take a shot at the two big prizes in the region. In northern Montana Glacier National Park is one of America’s crown jewels, while further north, Canada’s Banff National Park, and the other national parks that surround it, are perhaps that country’s best known hiking area.

I’m not sure what our original plans were for this trip, but things got shaken up by bad weather, though that’s something to be expected after Labor Day in those high elevation northerly climates.

Bighorn sheep in Banff.

I left Butte at 7PM on Saturday, September 7 and drove through drizzle and heavy fog to pick up Buddy at the airport in Great Falls. He had spent the first part of his trip at Red Rocks taking in a couple of Grateful Dead shows. We still hadn’t decided yet to add Banff onto our Glacier visit, but with the poor weather, losing some time with the extra drive to Banff didn’t seem a bad idea. We drove north to Shelby, MT where we able to get a room at ~1:30 AM.

Sunday wasn’t much clearer, but we did find a good spot for breakfast in Shelby. We drove north through Lethbridge and made it to Calgary in time for a late lunch. Thick fog prevented any sightseeing. Then it was onto the town of Banff.

We found the ranger (warden) office and got a three day backpacking permit starting for the next day. I had spotted some loop hikes, but Buddy pointed out that the loops weren’t in the alpine zone, which is where we really wanted to go. Our trip would be point to point, but we thought we could get it done by hitchhiking back to my car. After the hike, we hoped to get another permit for an overnighter in the Lake Louise area. But we knew we’d need to be flexible considering the weather. 

Buddy approaching Healy Pass.

Banff was more of a small town then, than the mega-tourist destination it has become. But there’s no knocking the quality of its outdoor equipment shops. That was lucky for us as we needed a variety of gear such as guidebooks and maps, and a wool hat for Buddy. We got a good dinner at one of the many restaurants in town. But before we could eat, I needed a trip to the shop for my Chevette, I’d left the lights on after the drive in from Calgary. But the drive through town led us past the famous hot springs, which we planned to visit after the backpack. We got a site at the Tunnel Mountain Campground where we were able to do our repacking for the hike. Unfortunately, we used the car headlights to help pack, and needed to get another jump start in the morning.

Banff Egypt and Twin Lakes Route.

9-9-85 Sunshine Gondola to Egypt Lake Cabin, 7.7 mi.

After finding someone to help us jump start my car battery, we went into town for coffee donuts, and jumper cables of the literal sort. Our plan was to hike from Sunshine Road, at the ski area just west of Banff to Castle Junction, where Highway 93 meets the TransCanada Highway.

The Sunshine Gondola Road was quiet, with a band of grazing bighorn sheep. The temperature was only about 45F when we started, with thick fog, and 1-2” of snow on the ground. It took about three hours on the Healy Pass Trail to reach the pass. Luckily the trail was mostly dry with only 1-2” of snow higher up. Despite the initial cold, I was down to T-shirt and light wool pants by the time we reached the pass. The trail was easy to follow, and well signed at all junctions. The highlight was popping out above the clouds as we reached the flat below the pass. There were good views north to the Pharoah Peaks, which we would pass on the next day’s hike. We spent about two hours at the pass, eating lunch and enjoying the views. 

Egypt Lake Cabin, Banff.

From the pass it was a wet 45 minute walk to the cabin at Egypt Lake. The cabin was neat and looked relatively new. There were tent sites also, but these were all wet. Also at the cabin were two guys from Edmonton that we pumped for local information.

I cooked up soup starter meal fortified with extra noodles. It was fine but needed more extra noodles. It was my cooking experiment for the trip, but wasn’t much different from having my usual Dinty Moore beef soup with noodles. I drank quite a bit of tea to help me warm up.

We’d only had a 12.5 km hike, so I was feeling good. I’d had four weekend trips over the summer, so I was much fitter than I had been the previous year in the Wind River Range. We hadn’t anticipated all the snow and fog, but things were working out so far. 

9-10-85, To Twin Lakes, 12.4 mi.

I had a poor night’s sleep, most likely too many cups of Buffalo Thunder Tea. Once on the trail we also got lost twice, past Haidu Lake, and another time on the stretch from Gibbons Pass down to Twins Lake. We started the day with a strenuous climb up the Whistling Pass Trail, then took a 0.6 km side trip to Scarab Lake, a beautiful spot well worth the extra distance. We were well above tree line with incredible scenery. 

At Scarab Lake.

We took our lunch break at Haidu Lake, further up the valley and likely should have camped there. We missed the junction with the Ball Pass Trail, and were on and off smaller user trails all the way down to Shallow Lake. We had thought we were on the main trail, until we hit it just below the Shallow Lake outlet. 

Buddy at Whistling Pass.

We had no navigation problems from the outlet to Gibbons Pass, just a long steady climb. The pass is a wide expanse of boggy tundra with a large cairn. There were no other markers on the north side of the pass, and with four inches of snow on the ground we couldn’t follow the trail. Apparently the trail was high to the east, while we were slogging around below it. It was a frustrating trip for both of us. We were tired, had soggy feet, and the sun was starting to set behind the peaks. We reached the outlet of Lower Twins Lakes, and then couldn’t find our campsite. Luckily, we were able to set up on the northwest side of the lake.

Buddy at Gibbons Pass.

9-11-85, Hike out and car shuttle, 9.2 miles

After our troubles the prior day it was nice to wake up to clear skies. Before we were even out of our sleeping bags we saw two people hiking past the lake. We assumed they had stayed in the official campsite that we had never found. We had a hot breakfast, and then went to work packing up the sodden tent.

Waterfall, Lower Twin Lakes.

As advertised, the first 2 km of the Twin Lakes Trail was wet and boggy, then we had a steady descent down to the Bow Valley. I didn’t mind the mostly woods walk at all. We had great views of Castle Mountain ahead of us, with the broad face of the mountain facing us it looked like something from Yosemite.

Down at the trailhead by Castle Junction we decided that I would hitchhike back to Banff and pick up my car, while Buddy would hitchhike to Lake Louise and get our next backpacking permit. It took us both about 45 minutes to get a ride, despite some heavy traffic. At the Sunshine Junction I decided to hide my pack and start walking up the road to my car, just in case it was hard to get a ride. That was a smart decision, as I walked 4 ¼ miles and was only passed by two cars, before I got a ride for the last ¾ mile. But the walk was worth it. I saw three herds of 13, 11, and 10 bighorn sheep grazing along the road. Only the last herd appeared to have rams, though some of the animals in the other two herd had horns. I wasn’t sure if those were juveniles or females.

I found Buddy by the Lake Louise ranger station, and we took a brief tour of the lake area after lunch. We then had a hell of time deciding on our next hike. Both our first two choices had bear warnings. My notes don’t indicate what route we settled on, but afterward we took a drive up the Icefield Parkway, enjoying a few beers on the way. My folks had not yet been to Banff, and I was sure they would really enjoy the parks. (They would visit Banff a few years later, and my Mom always considered it one of the most beautiful places she’d ever seen.) 

The classic view of Lake Lousie.

We returned to Banff, got cleaned up and soaked in the hot springs. It was awfully good to get clean after four days of driving and hiking. We had a pizza in town and then set up camp at Tunnel Mountain Campground again.

9-12-85, Drive to Glacier NP

We woke up in the middle of the night to a gentle rainfall. By morning the rain was steady and the sky dark. Neither Buddy nor I wanted to spend two more days hiking in the rain, so we decided it was a good time to drive south to Glacier, and see if we could catch a break in the weather there.

Before leaving Banff we went to the park HQ, and watched their slideshow. Then we did a little shopping in town. We took the long way out of town, Castle Junction to Highway 93 and over to Radium Hot Springs on the west side of the mountains. We took another soak in those springs, an attraction of the parks that hadn’t occurred to me before this trip.

The rain quit about the time we got to Cranbrook. In the open country we could see that we were racing the edge of a major front. But the weather stayed clear. We ate dinner in Whitefish, and camped at a place by the highway in West Glacier. 

Gunsight Lake Route.

9-13-85, To Gunsight Lake, 9.3 miles

We woke up to much improved weather. We decided to try for a campsite at Gunsight Lake, which would be just above the campsite from my only previous Glacier NP trip that July to Lincoln Lake. Between breakfast, the stop at the ranger station, and the drive to the trailhead, we weren’t on the trail until 11:20. My notes aren’t specific about where we started, but it was mostly likely at the Gunsight Pass TH. Gunsight is an odd trailhead in that the trail starts downhill to the St Mary River. It was an easy hike to the side trail to Florence Falls. Then the trail began a long scenic route through open country, slabbing along a ridge to Gunsight Lake.

Glacier NP, Buddy hiking  toward Gunsight Lake.

After about 2 ½ hours of hiking, we set up camp at the lake, then headed over to Jackson Glacier. The unofficial glacier trail forked left of the main trail immediately after the bridge over the outlet of Gunsight Lake. The trail started out in a stream, then headed sharply up a ridge. After about 30 minutes we were out of the trees, and the trail became harder to follow. But we headed for an obvious lateral moraine left by the glacier. Upon climbing up the moraine we were rewarded with tremendous views. The glacier had retreated considerably recently, and several lateral moraines were clearly exposed. The valley floor between the two main moraines was smoothly polished, and striations were very common in the exposed bedrock. I could also see a lot of small folds and faults in the rocks in the cirque walls.

Lateral moraine on Jackson Glacier.

We made our way to the foot of the glacier (total time ~1 hour and ~3 km) for some pictures, and to split a beer I’d hauled in. I couldn’t describe the glacier well, but noted that it would be worth a couple days of exploring, just to look at all the geology.

At Jackson Glacier.

The trail back to camp was easier to follow, and we were back in camp by 5:30. Dinner was Tuna Helper with peas and carrots, marginally tasty, but I was hungry. There were a lot of east moving clouds above. If the weather was still good the next morning we hoped to hike out over Gunsight Pass to Lake MacDonald, with a long hitchhike back to the car. If the weather was still doubtful, we’d retrace our way back.

Buddy on Jackson Glacier.

Jean and I would repeat this trip to Gunsight Lake on our 2022 visit to Glacier (Glacier 2022) with a simple out and back hike to the lake. On that hike, we’d been told Gunsight Pass was closed (it would open that day), and the bridge was out (it was, but the water was only ankle deep), so we didn’t do any side trips.

9-14-85

We woke up during the night to hear a rising wind and the beginnings of a rainstorm. By breakfast it was a little nicer and we decided to try the exit via Gunsight Pass. But as soon as we made the decision, the weather turned and we ended up heading for the St Mary River. The weather gradually improved enough for us to take the side trail to Florence Falls. It was worth the walk, The water fell over series of steps created by thick rock layers and numerous basins, with shorter falls throwing up a lot of mist.

Florence Falls, Glacier.

By the time we reached the trail junction at Deadwood Falls the rain had quit, so we decided to hike further east to Sun Point. That section of trail was super scenic. Even with the extra miles, it was still only about a five hour hike from Gunsight Lake to the Going to the Sun Road.

There wasn’t much of a place to hitchhike from the trailhead, but I got a ride within about five minutes. The ride out was a bit depressing. It seemed like Glacier was the only spot in the state with bad weather, and we’d been struggling with rain all week. We talked about heading to the North Cascades the next year, hoping for some better weather after two consecutive rainy trips. Our North Cascades trip would happen the next year (1986 Alpine Lakes) but not without a similar amount of bad weather.

As amazing as Banff and Glacier were, it would be a long time before I would be able to return (2016 Glacier). Jean and I would celebrate her retirement in 2016 with a two week trip to the park, mixing in three backpacking trips with a variety of day hikes. And we’d return to Glacier again in 2022, even staying another night at Gunsight Lake. We wouldn’t get to Banff until 2018, having waited much too long to visit that amazing place (2018 Banff).

1985, 6-21, Three Trips in the Pintlers, and One in the Tobacco Roots

In 1984-85 I worked for Pegasus Gold as a geologist in mineral exploration in Butte, Montana. In 1984 I worked on the German Gulch (aka Beal) property where we had a substantial drilling project, and I had very little time off. In 1985 I worked on the Revenue and Green Campbell projects, both were much earlier stage, and I had time to take some fun trips. My hiking records from this era are a little sparse, but the one area that really stood out to me was the 158,656-acre Anaconda-Pintler Wilderness just to the west of Butte. It is a huge wild area with a large alpine zone, enticing peaks, and few visitors. The range didn’t get a lot of publicity, but I guess it is easy to get overlooked in a state that has Glacier National Park and the Bob Marshall Wilderness on one end and Yellowstone National Park and the Beartooth-Absoraka Wilderness on the other.

1984, 8-12, Warren Peak, Anaconda Pintler Wilderness

My first trip into the Pintlers was to the range’s most interesting summit, Warren Peak in the center of the range. I did a 11 mile day hike with Rob, one of our summer geologists. We drove in off Highway 38 and FS Road 5141 to Carpp Lake Trailhead. We would hike a counterclockwise loop. We started on Trail 110 which immediately entered  the wilderness from the TH. We lost the trail briefly at Mosquito Meadows (It is probably always a mistake to take a trail through a place named Mosquito Meadows). At Carpp Lake we turned onto Trail 111 and reached Upper Carpp Lake in 2 hours. 

We then continued on Trail 111 up to Warren Pass where we started slabbing east to a low saddle. At the saddle, we cut southwest up a gully and then up the northeast ridge to reach a snowfield just below the summit. We reached the 10,463’ summit in 4 hours. The climbing was steep and exhilarating. Rob had climbed a bunch of the 14ers in Colorado, and even this was not tame to him. There was a summit register listing only 10 other previous climbers that year. We would see no other hikers on the trip.

We decided to descend via the east ridge. We spent about 90 minutes on the ridge, another 30 minutes to the bottom of the talus slope, and 30 more to a small unnamed lake at the head of Maloney Basin, where we took a quick swim. From the lake it was 1:45 back to the trailhead via trails 111 and 24.  We had light showers by 3PM. This was a wonderful trip that gave me the taste of the mountains I’d craved. Unfortunately, it would be another year before I would be able to return to the Pintlers.

Warren Peak from the north.

Warren Peak from the Goat Peaks.

6-21-85, Goat Peaks Backpack, Anaconda Pintler Wilderness

I did this trip with Dan and Don, two of my racketball playing buddies from Butte. To start the trip, we drove through the town of Anaconda and reached the start of Trail 129 in 90 minutes. As a measure of how crowded the area was, we saw no other cars at the three other trailheads we passed on the way. We hiked in only 20 minutes (`1 mile?) to a large meadow just off the Middle Fork of Fishtrap, I think we were just trying to shorten the trip by getting a bit of a start on Friday after work. The mosquito population was pretty dense, but luckily, they did a lot more buzzing than biting.

The next day we hiked to end of Trail 129, where it becomes Trail 128 on a saddle in the ridge between the east and middle forks. Trail 129 was recently blazed, but the footpath was not at all worn. I think here we found an old paper copy of the wilderness map. Lower down was an old diversion canal that provide a totally unexpected source of water. We also passed a nice campsite in the upper reaches of the middle fork.

At the saddle we must have dropped our packs and began to climb the ridge to the cirque that holds Lost Lakes. The last section to the cirque was a steep snowfield. We ate lunch at the upper lake. From the upper lake we scrambled up to the east ridge of West Goat Peak at 10,793’, the highest point in the range. It was a one hour climb on a warm calm day with no use of hands. The summit register showed several entries in 1981, none in 82, two in 83, and none for 84 or 85. I could not believe so few people climbed the peak. We would see no other hikers the rest of the trip.

Next we took a half hour to traverse over to East Goat Peak 10,399’. We had a nice snowslide on the descent off West Goat. East Goat is a far less impressive peak, but there looked to be a nice route on the ridge leading south to Nipple Peak. Our descent down the northeast ridge of East Goat was a definite mistake. The ridge proved to be covered with loose talus, about the roughest footing around. We did see one mountain goat on the descent, to add to the elk and wild turkey we’d seen earlier. We went back down to the snowfield at the outlet of the lakes and found a great campsite in an open area. I hiked all day in my lightweight wool army surplus pants, they worked well, but I wished I had remembered to bring shorts.

Dan and Don on West Goat Peak.

Lost Lakes, ~11 miles, West and East Goat Peaks

On the 22nd we got a late start but eventually hiked down to Trail 128 about at a junction with a small creek draining down from Needle Peak. This trail was also in good shape, at least until we lost it a crossing with another old diversion ditch. However, near the ditch we spotted the largest (>20) herd of elk I’d ever seen. It took 3.5 hours of hiking along the East Fork of Fishtrap to reach FS Road 1203. I ended up walking the 3.4 miles back to our truck at the Middle Fork Trailhead for a ten mile day, and then driving back to pick up Don and Dan. This combination of spectacular mountain scenery, wildlife sightings, untrammeled trail, and high peaks was what I’d come to Montana hoping to experience. 

8-24-1985, Mt Haggin Backpack, Anaconda Pintler Range

My final trip to the Pintlers was another backpacking trip, this time with my friend Don. Our target was Mt Haggin, which is outside the Wilderness Area, but is one of the range’s most prominent peaks.  Mt Haggin looms over the town of Anaconda, so access is relatively easy. I left my car at the parking lot for the Church of Jesus Christ in Anaconda, and we drove Don’s truck up Fifer Gulch and then into Ice House Gulch. The road was rough, but we got the truck further up than we had anticipated. At the time there were no road signs at all. We went just past the crossing of the road and Ice House Gulch, and left the truck in a small turnaround.

Putting on our backpacks we started hiking up the remains of the road. We bore left at two forks. Near a small dam the road petered out to become a trail. After 90 minutes we reached Hearst Lake, apparently an old reservoir and pump station probably for the now closed smelter in Anaconda. The dam for the lake was about 10’ high and made from stone and concrete. 

Hearst Lake pump station.

From Hearst Lake we took a one side hike up and over a small ridge to Haggin Lake. The walk was tougher than we expected, coarse talus on the west side of the divide led to a rough bushwhack before we reached the lake. We met two fisherman who told us they had come in via Garrity and had gotten in most of the way via dirt bikes. Haggin was shallow and surrounded by bogs. One of the fishermen told us that there were lots of trails to Mt Haggin, especially along the ridge that divided the two lakes. We went back to Hearst Lake and camped near the northeast corner of the lake.

Hearst Lake from the ridge to the west.

After a warm night with strong winds our plan was to ascend via the east wall of the cirque above Hearst Lake. We took a poor route with much loose rock, some of which we inadvertently set rolling down. The head of the wall was really steep and we both agreed this was not a route to repeat. We hit the ridge in a gentle col between peaks 9321’ and 10304’ where the route improved greatly. It was wonderful walking along the open ridge with expansive views. There was an abandoned power relay station on the crest near 10,304’. We took about an hour to reach the east-most peak on the crest then another 45 minutes to get to the summit of Haggin. The summit features a huge stone cairn and a register noting 50 climbers already that year, and nine others were already on top. So, this is where everyone goes in the Pintlers!

Hearst Lake from Mt Haggin.

For some reason we did not descend the ridge between Haggin and Hearst lakes but dropped into a small basin on the west side of Hearst Lake. It took only 40 minutes to drop to an old fire warden’s cabin and another 30 to get back to our campsite. For part of the way we followed and old “signal wire” (telephone line?). I was a little tired from the descent but at least my knees were only a bit sore. From the campsite it was only another hour back down to the truck and a 30 minute drive back to my car at the church in Anaconda. 

Southeast Ridge of Mt Haggin.

On the summit of Mt Haggin.

9-1-85, Hollowtop and Jefferson, Tobacco Root Range

The last backpacking trip I did while living in Butte was a solo hike in the Tobacco Roots. I had spent most of the summer looking at the range from below while working at a couple of mining prospects, including one at Revenue Flats. I left Butte and drove an hour to the trailhead (North Willow Creek?) 1.4 miles west of the small town of Pony. There were already 4 cars in the lot. My notes for the route to Hollowtop Lake are fairly detailed, usually a sign that the route is complicated, and that I wanted to have good notes for my return trip. The route in was likely the North Willow Creek Trail (#301). I noted 15 minutes to a creek crossing, and 45 minutes to reach a signed trail junction where the steadily climbing old road finally converted to trail. I did see some bike tracks beyond this point. After a break it was 30 minutes to another junction with a trail leading southwest (the Potosi Peak Trail 3365 leading to the Albro Lake Trail #333?). In another hour I reached the Hollowtop Lake Trail where the navigating became much easier. I saw one party of three, and an elk, just below Hollowtop Lake. However, I did miss a spur to Deep Lake when I tried to visit it. 

Hollowtop Lake.

I arrived at the lakes at 1PM and was tempted to try the climb that day, but decided to wait out some rain in my tent at Hollowtop Lake. After the rain cleared, I realized I was only a quarter mile from Skytop Lake, so I broke camp to move to a better spot at Skytop. 

Head of the cirque above Hollowtop and Jefferson.

The next day it took only 50 minutes to gain the ridge south of Hollowtop Mountain, and another 15 minutes to reach the peak. The summit was covered with some boards, flagging and wire. I got a brief glimpse of the views before the fog rolled in. From Hollowtop it was a 15 minute hike north to the summit of Jefferson, the highest point in the range. There was a USFS register on the peak that had already been signed by `100 people so far that year. The descent back to Skytop Lake took 45 minutes. I still had trouble navigating on the descent, this time going past Deep Lake. The rest of the hike out took about two hours, I passed 7 people on the way out including three on horses. The woods on the east side of the range seemed fairly open from what I could see on the trail, and it looked like the range would have some good opportunities for short bushwhack trips. 

Jefferson from Hollowtop.