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The next morning, we took our leisurely time breaking camp,
knowing that we would be unable to leave until at least 9:00 a.m. This was
because our next destination - Cosley Lake - was just 2.6 miles away, so it
would only take us a little more an hour to get there. If we left too early, the
previous night's occupants might still be there, and we wouldn't be able to
set up camp. To kill time, John went for a walk to see if he could find some
wildlife, while I went directly for my morning coffee and oatmeal. When he
returned, he reported that he had found a deer grazing in the woods along the
trail we would be taking to Cosley Lake, so there was a good chance that I
would get to see her on the way to our next campsite.
We left camp at 8:45 and walked over to the Belly River Ranger Station to see
if there were any important bulletins posted that we should know about. There
weren't any, but there was a map of the Belly River area trails. John used the
map to show me where we would be hiking that day: from the ranger station, we
would leave the Belly River Trail and begin hiking the
Stony Indian Pass
Trail, which would take us to Cosley Lake and points beyond. About 3.1 miles
past Cosley Lake, we would find the junction with the Mokowanis Trail; from
there it was about 1.3 miles to the lake.
After leaving the ranger station, John and I began our short hike to Cosley
Lake. Along the way, we found the deer that John had seen during his morning
walk; she was sitting under a tree, enjoying the morning sunlight among the
tall blades of grass and the bright wildflowers. We watched her for several
minutes, wondering if she would flee upon seeing us. She didn't, though; she
didn't seem to care that she had visitors.
A bit further up the trail, we came to a suspension bridge that we had to
cross in order to go over the river. We had crossed one like it during our day
hike to Elizabeth Lake the day before. It reminded me of Indiana Jones and the
Temple of Doom - the scene where Indiana Jones cuts the ropes on the
suspension bridge, sending the bad guys to their deaths in the gorge below.
These bridges can only hold one hiker at a time; signs are posted at either
end, indicating such, and it is obvious why: these bridges are just as rickety
as the one in the Indiana Jones movie! And, if that wasn't bad enough, the
wind was blowing fiercely, making the bridge sway side to side. I wasn't
scared, but it was a little unsettling to have to walk on it.
Upon reaching the other side of the bridge, the trail began to ascend -
sometimes steeply, sometimes at a slight grade - until we reached Gros Ventre
(or Big Belly) Falls. (These falls were not as impressive as Dawn Mist Falls,
but they were pretty.) From there, the trail began to descend a little bit
before leveling out as it traversed a large meadow, a half of a mile from the
campground. Then, as Cosley Lake came into view, we found the spur trail
leading into the campground; the spur trail cut through tall, leafy plants -
some of which were almost as tall as me - for about a tenth of a mile before
arriving at the lake.
Cosley Lake proved to be our favorite campground, because all four of the
sites were on the shores of the lake. We chose the first site, which seemed to be the most
secluded. From our site, there was a three foot pathway that cut through the
trees and led right to the beach. When we set up the tent, we angled it with
the door facing the lake, so that we could wake up to that view in the
morning.
We took our time setting up camp, because we had all day to do our day hike.
While John filtered water for our camelbacks, I set up the tent and laid out
our sleeping bags. Then, we had lunch.
We didn't leave for our day hike until after 11:30 that
morning. While walking up the spur trail to rejoin the Stony Indian Pass
Trail, John nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a snake on the trail!
Having already seen two rattlers this year, John was expecting this snake to
start rattling at him, and it took him a second to realize that we were in
Montana and that there were no rattlers there.
Our day hike took us through dense forests and meadows of tall grass with
large leafy plants that gently slapped us in the legs as we passed by them -
the Stony Indian Pass Trail was a little overgrown. For the most part, the
trail was all uphill - sometimes at a gentle grade, other times at a steep
grade - but it wasn't very difficult at all, so we made excellent time.
It didn't take us long to reach the Glenn's Lake (Foot) Campground, where we
met up with two guys who, having just set up camp there, were going to do a
day hike, too. They were fascinated with our GPS unit, having never seen one
before, so John took some time to show them the various features that it has.
He told them that he had been marking some of the landmarks in the backcountry
to gage our distance traveled and to keep us from getting lost. The
campgrounds, for example, made excellent waypoints, so he marked each one that
we came to. After ooh-ing and aah-ing over our device, the two guys hiked on
ahead of us, wishing us a good trip. It was then that we realized that we
should have had them take a picture of the two of us together!
The next leg of the trail took us along the contour of Glenn's Lake for about
two and a half miles, until we reached the next campground: Glenn's Lake
(Head) Campground. A half a mile after that, we came to the junction with the
Mokowanis Trail, which took us along the head of Glenn's Lake. As we crossed
the river that feeds the lake, we saw White Quiver Falls, a unique waterfall
that is at a forty-five degree angle. The white water seems to "quiver" over
the slide rocks as it falls into the river below. I thought it was fascinating
and very beautiful.
The Mokowanis Trail climbed steadily uphill for about a mile before arriving
at the Mokowanis Lake Campground, where only one campsite was occupied. About
ten feet from the campground was the lake, which, as promised, was very
pretty. From the shores of the lake, we could see snow-capped Stony Indian
Pass - another pass that we were warned about snow hazards, meaning that we
wouldn't be able to do it. To the left, we could see Margaret Falls, a very
tall waterfall that dumps water into Margaret Lake. Had we continued along the
trail, we would have eventually come to it.
One of the occupants of the campsite came to say hello to us. She and her
husband, who had stayed in the tent, were fifty-nine years old and made the
trip to Glacier National Park yearly so that they could do some backpacking.
However, this year they wouldn't be able to do Stony Indian Pass because of
the snow hazards due to the late thaw. She told us that there was a lot of
wildlife to be seen in that area. Just the night before, she had seen a huge
moose in the lake, and the deer had been wandering through their campsite in
search of food. The only wildlife we got to see, though, was a group of ducks
on the lake, paddling against the wind and the whitecaps.
Before bidding her farewell, we asked her to take a picture of us together.
Then, we began to hike back to camp. We managed to get a good clip going, and
we made it back to Cosley Lake early, at a pace of about 2.5 to 2.8 miles an
hour. I remarked that we had become faster hikers than we were a year ago. A
year ago, we were only averaging about two miles an hour with day packs,
slower with backpacks. We would have never been able to accomplish fourteen
miles in one day as we had done that day.
Of course, hiking fourteen miles doesn't come without a price. When we arrived
at camp, we were utterly exhausted. John had been planning to hike Bear
Mountain, to the lookout station, but after sitting down next to the lake to
relax, he decided that he had done enough hiking for one day. All he wanted to
do was put on his camp shoes, sit by the lake, and watch for wildlife through
the binoculars. After taking a short nap, I joined him on the shore and took a
sponge bath - I was filthy from hiking through the mud! John did the same, and
once we were cleaned up, we walked over to the food prep area to have dinner.
We spent the rest of the evening on the lake shore, watching ducks paddle
across the choppy waters and skipping stones. The wind, which had been blowing
viciously all day long, began to get colder and colder as the sun dropped
below the mountains, and eventually, it chased us into the shelter of our
tent. After cuddling for a while, we decided to call it an early bedtime,
since there was nothing else for us to do. John remarked that we should really
consider buying a card game to take with us into the backcountry for evenings
like that, when the weather forces us to stay in our tent but we're not tired
enough to go to sleep, because it took us half the night to fall asleep...
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