While descending Red Gap Pass, we could see the southern portion of Elizabeth Lake and beyond it glimpse Helen Lake, the evening's destination. Click here to enlarge the photo above.
The short trail in the foreground leads from the campsites to Helen Lake. That evening as we rested on rocks near the water, the ambiance was like that of a twelfth-century Gothic cathedral. The magnificant stone rendered the place ethereal, other worldly.

This area had one other campsite, but it was vacant that night. Deep in the night while lying awake, twice I heard a heavy, hoofed animal race pass our tent.

A backward glance of Helen Lake and Ahern Peak as we head north to Cosley Lake. Shadows and streaks of sun seem to support last evening's impressions. Click here to enlarge this photo.
At Cosely Lake our campsite was only a few yards from the lake and its pebble beach. Sometime after midnight we carried our sleeping bags to the beach, where we lay and marveled at the moonlit night and its jagged line of silhouetted mountains.

The next day, short on sleep and with only a 5.8 mile hike to Elizabeth Lake ahead of us, we lingered at Cosley Lake until 2 p.m. But our days usually began at 5 a.m. and ended at 8 or 9 p.m., when we collasped in the tent. Although Montana is known as "Big Sky Country," in summers it might also be called "Long Day Country." The blanket of night fell after 10 o'clock and lifted before six.

During our visit, the afternoons were often warm. After the first drizzly hike to Cracker Lake, we never encountered as much as a heavy dew, just lots of clear, dry air. A few days into the trip, I began to feel the affects of spending my waking hours outside. I noticed how, at the end of the day and long after the sun had retreated behind the mountains, my body still held the sun's warmth. At night it was as though I carried a piece of the sun into the tent.

After camping at the head of Elizabeth Lake, we headed out early to the foot a couple of miles away. We had high hopes of seeing a ranger at the campsite, who had been there the previous afternoon. We arrived at the foot of the lake, and in the time it took to remove our packs, the ranger arrived. The last hike on our backcountry permit, Ptarmigan Trail, had been closed due to bear activity. Typical of this situation, following three consecutive days of no threatening bear activity, the trail was reopened. And we began our last day in the backcountry. At 11.7 miles, it wasn't our longest hike, but it held the stiffest climb - 2,518 feet with a descent of 2,480. Elevation would be over 7,200 at the Ptarmigan Tunnel. Though our backup plan had been a shorter and easier hike through the wide upper Belly River valley near the Canadian border, we were elated Ptarmigan Trail was open.
Beyond Steve is another view of Elizabeth Lake. We had come in from the east and now headed due south to Ptarmigan Trail, which will take us to Many Glacier, near our starting point. Even in midsummer, the weather was often quite cool and windy high in the mountains.

This photo shows brush and smaller trees common in the higher elevations. Our hikes often started in valleys lush with vegetation, but as we climbed higher it dropped off to dwarfed trees and shrubbery, and eventually to bare rock. But where grass was exposed to the sun, there usually grew colorful wildflowers.

This photo shows the chiseled artwork of glaciers, a view from high on the Ptarmigan Wall. Click here to enlarge this photo.
Steve in one of his less composed moments.

Approaching from a distance, I hoped this faint line across the mountainside was merely a well-worn animal trail. But only humans, I suppose, are that crazy. Hiking on this trail with its steep sides made encounters with others precarious. A brisk wind to boot made the west side of Ptarmigan particularly challenging. Click here and we'll see where this trail really goes.