Glacier National Park
The road from
Polebridge to Bowman Lake Camp-ground is a six-mile, winding, narrow, bumpy
road. Later I would learn that the literature describes the road as primitive.
The Park's goal is to maintain a backcountry campground limited to small
trailers and tents. The real reason, one of the volunteer Park rangers
surmised, was budget restrictions. If you are pulling a small trailer, plan on
a 30-minute drive from Polebridge to the campground. The road from Polebridge
to Kintla Lake is 15 miles and it, too, is rough, particularly the last two
miles, although the driving time is only 45 minutes. The views, however, make
the driving worthwhile. A few years ago a bridge washed out on the Canadian side
of the border, so the road from Kintla Lake no longer serves as an entry into
Canada. Discussions about reconstruction and financing have yet to be resolved
by the Canadian government.
Arriving at
Bowman Lake, pulling my monstrous RV conversion, I met the Bowman Lake ranger.
She walked me down to the corrals and told me I could camp at the corrals with
Buddy, if I thought I could make the turns. Looking down at this cute,
23-year-old ranger with her blonde braids dangling down from her
Smokey-the-Bear hat, I said, "No problem, Little Lady," in my best John Wayne
drawl. "Why, there's no trail or road that I can't maneuver this rig."
Sacrificing two
little fir trees, the first two sharp turns down the rutted and overgrown road
were less than perfect. When I got to the corrals, I knew I was in trouble. The
corrals were straight ahead. To the left a few feet away was the outlet creek.
The "turn-around" had a stock ramp to the right. It was not a place for a
21-foot trailer. How could I have miscalculated? Backing out through two turns
was a nightmare. Later, the pungent smell of a burned clutch lingered as I
crawled into my bed, exhausted and shaken.
Bowman Lake
Although it
provides a spectacular backdrop of glacial mountains, Bowman Lake offers only
fair fishing at best. The best fishing opportunity is trolling from a boat or
searching out deeper spots on the sides of the lake. Fishing is said to be good
if you are willing to hike to the head of the lake, or camp at the designated
backcountry campsite, Bowman Lake HD, a distance of 7.1 miles. The foot of the
lake is very shallow. The outlet, Bowman Creek, offers decent fishing for 7- to
12-inch cutthroats.
Akokala Lake
Akokala Lake
provides an-other fishing option and backcountry camping site. The trailhead begins
right in the Bowman Lake Camp-ground. The steep 5.8-mile hike is often plagued
with blow-downs, but the rang-ers clear them as soon as they can. The 23-acre
lake provides good fishing for small cutthroats. The best fishing, however, may
be found in the three Quartz Lakes above Bowman Lake.
Lower Quartz Lake
The next day
Buddy and I headed up the trail to Lower Quartz Lake. The loop to all three
lakes covers 12.7 miles. The trailhead begins just east of the picnic site on
Bow-man Lake. Looking up the lake at the imposing Numa Peak to the west and
Rainbow Peak to the east, Cerulean Ridge appears much less intimidating to
hike. Crossing over the outlet bridge, the trail passes a ranger cabin about a
half-mile from the campground. Shortly after the cabin, the trail forks. The
trail to the right leads to Lower Quartz Lake, a distance of 3.6 miles. Taking
the left fork leads the hiker up Cerulean Ridge through a heavily-forested
trail towards the crest. From the crest hikers may observe the natural reforestation
after the 1988 Red Bench Fire. From the fork to Quartz Lake covers a distance
of 6.6 miles, offering spectacular views. The backcountry Quartz Lake
Campground offers glacial beauty and a small beach. From Quartz Lake Campground
to Lower Quartz Campground is approximately three miles, passing by the smaller
Middle Quartz Lake.
Taking the
right fork to Lower Quartz Lake, a popular day hike, the trail climbs steadily
up many switchbacks to Quartz Ridge, where hikers can see Quartz Lake, nestled
at the base of Vulture Peak and Square Peak. The trail is quite steep, but it
is shaded almost the entire length. Huffing and puffing up the mountainside, I
was forced to take a breather when Buddy's pack slowly worked itself off to the
side and then plopped on the ground. While I was struggling to re-adjust
everything, I heard the rhythmic synchronization of two hikers in locomotion.
"Hey, bear!" the engineer shouted out. "Hey, bear," the fireman repeated three
steps later. Two college girls steamed up the switchbacks with full packs,
while Buddy and I marveled at their progress. When they were two switchbacks
below me, I yelled out, "Just give me a second and I'll get out of your way.
I'm almost finished," as I adjusted the sleeping bag riding on top of Buddy's sawbuck.
Not a wheel
slipped in this locomotive, nor was there the slightest pause as the engineer's
forearms shot out in a piston-like motion and the train steamed up the trail
from one switchback to another. "Hey, bear," said the engineer, and exactly
three paces later the fireman answered, "Hey, bear!" If someone above us looked
down upon Buddy's twitching ears, they could have marked the locomotive's
ascent. Rounding the switchback near us, the engineer frowned as she broke her
cadence.
"Does he kick?"
yelled out the engineer.
"No," I
replied, and before I knew it, they had passed, forfeiting any opportunity to
say hello, or where are you heading?
"Hey, bear!"
shouted the engineer as they disappeared around the bend. I took hold of the
lead rope, clicked my tongue (the command for go), looked at the switchbacks in
front of me, and, like the little steam engine, said, "I think I can. I think I
can. I think I can."
If you bring in
stock, be sure to pack in your animal's food, as there are no spots to graze.
Be cautious in crossing the small bridges over spring seepage; some of them are
quite rotten. The area is thick with underbrush and trees right down to the
water's edge. All of the backcountry sites have a hanging pole and an outhouse.
Lower Quartz pro-vided a three-week-old sports section and the classifieds of
the Missoulian for those whose daily
constitution requires a more sedate regimen.
I fished the
outlet creek first, which flushes a surprising volume of water from the lake
down to the North Fork. Every fly fisher regales with nostalgia those stories
of fish caught on every cast. I have added another such story to my 45 years of
trout fishing. Unfortunately, nary a single fish measured over 5 inches! I fished
300 yards in beautiful water. If I didn't catch a fish on each cast, I flipped
one across the riffle or missed one, sometimes two. It reminded me of my
personal best day with a client, Sam Laurence, the founder of Budget Rental
Cars. Sam caught 97 trout in one day floating the Bitterroot River with me as
his guide. In those days my outfitter required his guides to keep a mechanical
counter. Of the 97 trout Sam caught that day, not one exceeded 9 inches, and
most measured 5 to 7 inches. Guinness should have a record for most dinks in a
day! That evening, however, I caught a number of fat cutthroats wading out in
the lake. Although none of them were big, a number of them were around 12
inches.
After sipping
hot chocolate the following morning, and watching the steam slowly rise and
dissipate above the emerald reflection of Quartz Ridge, I re-adjusted my
attitude after a night of painfully swollen knees. Buddy minded his manners and
proudly crossed the outlet with nary a prodding, swearing or cajoling. With
just a few months training, he packed like a veteran.
