SHEEP
“Harmlessly passing your time in the grassland away
Only dimly aware of a certain unease in the air
You better watch out there may be dogs about
Well, I’ve looked over Jordan and I have seen
Things are not what they seem
What do you get for pretending the danger’s not real?
Meek and obedient you follow the leader
Down well trodden corridors into the valley of steel
What a surprise
A look of terminal shock in your eyes
Now things are really what they seem
No this is no bad dream”
From
“Sheep”, by Pink Floyd
Wednesday was our last full
day in the park, and we planned to make the most of it. After resting the previous day, we were
ready for one more serious hike. Of all
the hikes that I had originally planned on doing, the route over Siyeh Pass was
the one that was the most compelling.
The hike promised great vistas, close up views of glaciers, and
wildflowers in the meadows of Preston Park.
Best of all, the new free shuttle operated by the park service would
provide transportation between the trailheads.
We had a hearty breakfast of
eggs and hashbrowns, and hiked over to the camp store to catch the bus. As usual, we just missed one, and ended up
waiting almost 30 minutes for the next.
By the time it arrived, there were 17 people waiting at Rising Sun. Unfortunately, there were only 4 empty
seats, as the bus had been nearly full when it departed St. Mary. Lucky for us, we had been the third and
fourth people to arrive at the bus stop.
I’ve heard lots of stories
from travelers about riding buses in third world countries. I knew that one day, I’d have one of those
experiences myself. I just didn’t
expect it to happen in Montana. Although
the bus was full, a number of others tried to get on and stand. One of them, we noticed, had been the last
person to arrive at the bus stop. This
led to a disturbing confrontation between them and the young Hispanic
driver. He emphatically stated that
standing was not allowed on his bus, but didn’t make anyone leave. When we drove away, there were 4 of 5 people
standing in the aisle. I hope that
driver never becomes a teacher, or tries to raise a child, because that
approach will get him run over!
Unfortunately, I think it’s too late for him to not have a child. The passenger seat of the bus was occupied
by a young Hispanic woman holding an infant in her lap. I hope those buses don’t have air bags. The only thing this bus ride lacked was an
appearance by Borat and a chicken or two.
It was a relief when we
finally made it to the stop for the Piegan Pass Trailhead. We disembarked and hit the trail, following
a lovely cascading stream through meadows and open woods. Behind us, we had a fine view of the Jackson
and Blackfoot Glaciers. Ahead loomed
the notch of Piegan Pass.
Piegan Pass wasn’t our destination
though. It’s possible to cross that
pass, and descend all the way to Grinnell Lake and Many Glacier. That’s a hike we’ll have to do on our next
visit to the park. Today though, we
planned to leave the Piegan Pass Trail in the meadows of Preston Park. We’d follow another path up to Siyeh Pass,
and around to the Sexton Glacier, before descending back through Sunrift Gorge
to the Going to the Sun Road.
I had looked forward to
Preston Park, as it reputedly has some of the finest wildflowers in the
park. Unfortunately, mid-August is a
little late, and the July heat wave had finished them off. Even without the flowers, Preston Park was a
pleasant spot. We stopped there for
lunch in an open sub-alpine meadow surrounded by spruce and fir forest. Behind us, we had a fine view of the Piegan
Glacier.
We resumed the hike after eating,
and a moderate climb brought us to the pass.
Once above the trees, we were treated to fantastic views back the way we
came. This is definitely one of those
hikes where you need to look over your shoulder every once in a while. Frequently, the best views were in our
rearview mirror.
As we neared the pass, my
attention was drawn ahead of us. In the
open meadows of the pass, dozens of animals were grazing. At first they were too far away to identify,
but as we got closer, we could see that they were female Bighorn Sheep. There were at least 20 Ewes, along with a
few Lambs. There weren’t any Rams to be
seen, but I suppose it’s still too early for mating season.
We took an unnecessary, yet
lengthy break at the pass. Just beyond,
our progress was blocked by a small but steep glacier. We paused here, enjoying the views across
the glacier and down the Boulder Creek valley beyond. Below us, we spotted a Ewe crossing the ice. She didn’t have crampons or an ice axe, but
the steep, icy drop below didn’t seem to faze her one bit.
We regained the trail, which
switchbacks up above the pass to avoid the glacier. Once the final climb was behind us, we enjoyed a pleasant stroll
with incredible views in nearly every direction. Behind us, the massive bulk of Mount Siyeh rose high above the
pass. Eventually we curved around
Matahpi Peak and the Sexton Glacier came into view. This glacier is one of the largest remaining in this part of the
park, and from our vantage, I could see a side path heading towards it. I knew this would be the last glacier of our
trip, and I vowed to get a closer look before we concluded the hike.
We dropped down a handful of
switchbacks, and spotted a couple of Mountain Goats near the side path I
intended to take. After a moment of
consideration, Christy decided to wait at the junction for me.
I followed the obvious side
path, which led below a small cliff. I
looked up, and I could just make out a Mountain Goat peering down at me from
behind a rock. I got a couple of
amusing photos, and hiked on, heading towards the glacier. I reached the terminal moraine about 15
minutes later, and was stunned at how little remained. Beyond the moraine was a wasteland of mud
and rocks. There was just enough ice
and snow clinging to the face of the mountain to still be called a
glacier. Not for long though. It’s one thing to read about global warming,
and how these glaciers will be gone in just a few years, but it’s something
else all together to see it happening before your very eyes.
I paused there for a few
minutes, but found the view more depressing than anything. While I rested there, I reflected on global
warming, the American culture, and how we arrived at this point. The answer, I think, is simple
complacency. After all, life is
good. Why rock the boat? Why question your culture, and the
leadership of your country, when you’ve got a good job, a family, and two or
three SUV’s in the garage? Never mind
that hint of unease in the back of your mind; that the country, its economy and
culture, are just a house of cards, one good gust of the ever-changing wind
away from collapsing.
Thanks to these dark
thoughts, it wasn’t long before I was ready to head back. Luckily I was quickly cheered by the sight
of a Mountain Goat galloping across a meadow ahead of me. Moments later, I spotted two more Goats, one
male and one female, resting in the shade of a tall rock face. A few others were sprawled out on a patch of
snow. They were the smart ones. Today was another scorcher, and only the
foolish animals were out walking around in the sun.
I rejoined Christy, who’d
had enough heat and sun herself. We
hurried on down the trail, which continued to descend on switchbacks. Before long though, we began a long,
straight, and nearly flat stretch of path without a hint of shade. We left the Sexton Glacier behind, dripping
in the sun. Finally we reached a
switchback, and dropped down towards the stream that carves Sunrift Gorge. Trees followed shortly thereafter, which was
quite a relief. Before long, we heard
the sounds of traffic, and the obligatory roar of a bus pulling away. Would we ever arrive at the road at the
right moment? Not on this trip. Another bus came along eventually, and surprisingly,
it was almost empty. We rode back to
Rising Sun, where we spent one final pleasant evening in the campground.
We enjoyed grilled chicken,
mac-n-cheese, and baked beans for dinner that evening. As usual, we missed the campfire
program. In this case, that may have
been a mistake. From our site near the
back of the campground, we could hear all kinds of hooting, hollering, and
whistling. It sure was rowdy down
there. What was the program that night
anyway, a wet t-shirt contest?
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