Day 135: Sunny Day over Swiftcurrent Pass to Kootenai Lakes

Mileage: 30.2 miles (2545.2-2575.4)

Wow, talk about an incredible last full day on the CDT! Malarky and I started it off with breakfast and coffee from the convenience store. We talked about the crazy lady from the night before and it turned out all the staff and even other guests knew about her and supported our suspicions. Apparently, a ranger had escorted her out of the store a few days previous for stealing. Anyways, we got started by eight and were greeted with our first bluebird day in the park. So blue I couldn't help but feel optimistic about the future, regardless of what it may bring.

Swiftcurrent Pass was laden with incredible towering peaks, striated in different ways, almost as if a fine comb had been dragged through the rock in one direction before it had hardened. I have a suspicion glaciers formed many of the grooves by grinding against the rock, but will have to look it up when I get back to civilization. I trailed Commando and Malarky up the valley, admiring the crystal-clear lakes which reflected the peaks above like slowly undulating glass and was rewarded by seeing some Mule deer in the stream before the climb up the pass. The trail traversed the cliff after penetrating deep into the long glacial valley, passing two glassy lakes before the ascent.

As I climbed, I scanned the valley below for Grizzlies, convinced I was going to see one or a few wandering around the dense Alder thickets near the fast-flowing stream.  Scanning the valley, it was amazing to see how quickly all the snow had melted, even up high. There were only a few small and avoidable patches way up high. Again, were right on side of cliff but it was marvelous trail.

Malarky and I took a break on top of the pass and heard some strange roaring noises emanating from above. Neither of us had ever heard a simliar sound, yet were totally baffled - it could have been anything from an Elk to a Grizzly - we had no idea. Heading down the pass, we strolled into Granite Peak Chalet, which was built in the early 1900's by the Great Northern Railway company. It was owned by railroad until early '50s and then handed over to Park Service. It's been managed by same family for four generations and you can tell by it's backwoods feel and staff who are friendly because they want to be, not because it's company policy. They even gave us free Peanut M&Ms for being a thru-hiker, woohoo! It was pretty steep to stay, but a really cool place to hang out. I was reminded of the Moosilauke Ravine Lodge, where I'd worked after College. It had the same sweet smell of damp wood and mildew and matched the cozy feel, stocked with board games, snacks, and hot beverages.

I could have sat by the fire all day, but we needed to push on. We joined the Highline Trail a little ways back from the Chalet. We looked towards the south where it climbed over a high alpine pass, but we were headed north. We traversed the cliffs for ten miles to Fifty Mountain with water flowing everywhere and giant piles of Grizzly scat littering the trail. They were eating bright orange berrries that they seemed unable to properly digest - I guessed it was sumac, but it was hard to say for sure. Hoary Marmots scampered up and down rocks, warning one another of our presence. The brush was dense on each side of the trail and we were just waiting for a Grizz to clamber out, mouth bright orange from gorging on the mystery berries.

It was really fantastic trail looking across each valley, going up and down and up and down. Heavens Peak glistened to the south and others followed the west and north. The snowfields shimmered atop impossibly steep peaks, making me wonder how the snow hadn't fallen off to the broad valleys below. The last remnants of glaciers clung to the north side of the 9,000' peaks. Most would be gone within the decade.

We had one final climb to Fifty mountain and then down almost 3,000' to the Waterton Valley, which we'd follow to Waterton lake and Canada. It was not only the final climb of the day, but the final climb of the trail. It's weird to be typing that. We'll just say we had a little extra motivation.

We camped at Kootenai Lake just seven miles from the border. I used all my power not to continue walking and save the border for tomorrow to meet my mom and dog as we planned. Tonight is my last night camping and I should savor it. But I couldn't help feeling anxious - I was ready to finish, but what would come next? I was so used to just following the trail - in some ways it was easier to be following a path, to have a destination. Tomorrow, ironically, I would be lost. There wouldn't be a goal - I'd made it to where I was going. What was next? Transitions are the hardest part.

The lake reflected the mountain and clouds above like glass. I thought more about what was next and tried to sleep. Mysterious sounds resonated from across the dark water of the lake. They were hollow echoes that you only hear in the woods, alone in a tent. Mysteries of the night, never to be solved, but which caused endless wonder. The crack of a breaking branch, the clash through the trees, the howl and blood-curdling scream. Above all else, I would miss these little mysteries and the dark shadow of the unknown.