The traveller is always glad to find himself at the Glacier House in the heart of the Selkirks. This is more especially true, if in previous years, he has visited this charming spot and become in some degree familiar with the place. The railroad makes a large loop round a narrow valley and sweeps apparently close to the great glacier of the Selkirks, a vast sea of ice that glistens in a silvery white sheen and appears to rise above the forests as one looks southward. There is something pre-eminently comfortable and homelike about the Glacier House. The effect is indefinable, and one hardly knows whether the general style of an English inn, or the genuine hospitality that one receives, is the chief cause. One always feels at home in this wild little spot, and scarcely realizes that civilization is so far distant.
The rush of summer guests called for the erection of an annex, so that there are now two hotels for the accommodation of tourists. The Glacier House is located near the railroad, and occupies a small, nearly level, place at the bottom of one of those deep and narrow valleys characteristic of the Selkirks. Those who have visited the Franconia Notch in the White Mountains would be somewhat reminded of that beautiful spot upon first seeing the surroundings of Glacier. The ground in front of the hotel has been levelled and is rendered beautiful by a thick carpet of turf. In summer it is fragrant and almost snowy in appearance from the multitude of white clover blossoms. This garden spot in the wilderness is still further adorned by fountains, which break the continuity of the greensward, and are fed by cascades that may be seen descending the opposite mountain side in many a leap, through a total distance of 1800 feet.
But this small area, that man has improved and rendered more suitable to his comfort, is surrounded on all sides by a wilderness, perhaps better described as a little explored range of mountains separated by deep gorges and covered with dense forests. It is like the Alps of Switzerland and the Black Forest combined. There are snow-clad peaks, large glaciers, and névé regions of vast extent in the higher altitudes, while the valleys below are dark and sombre in their covering of deep, cool forests. The main range of the Rockies presents no such rankness of vegetable growth—mosses, ferns, and lichens covering every available surface on tree trunks and boulders—nor such huge trees as those found everywhere in the Selkirks.
Moreover, the mountains of the Selkirk Range probably average 1000 feet lower than in the corresponding parts of the main range, but nevertheless they seem white and brilliant in their mantles of everlasting snow and sparkling glaciers. Finally, one observes that the railroad track is covered at frequent intervals by snow-sheds of considerable length, constructed of heavy beams and massive timbers, in order to withstand the terrible force and weight of winter snow-slides and avalanches. In the main range of the Rockies there are no snow sheds. The question naturally arises—What is the reason of all these differences from the more eastern ranges?
The answer to the question is that the climate is more humid. The snowfall in winter is so great that it remains all summer at much lower altitudes than in the Rockies, and supplies glaciers, which descend perhaps a thousand feet nearer to sea-level. The moisture from this deep covering of snow, saturates the ground as it melts in the spring, and, in addition to frequent, heavy summer rains, nourishes the rich forests of these mountains. Moreover, the atmosphere is always slightly moister than it is to the east, and does not tend to dry up the ground or evaporate the mountain snows so rapidly as in the summit range.
The eastward movement of the atmosphere, carrying up moisture from the Pacific, causes a great condensation of clouds and a heavy rainfall as the air currents pass over the Selkirks, and leaves the atmosphere robbed of a great part of its moisture to pass over the next range to the east.
Almost all the differences between the Selkirks and the Rockies proper, spring from the single cause of a moister climate. The principal features of extensive snow fields and luxuriant forests can be readily understood. May not the deep, narrow valleys of the Selkirks be likewise explained from the more rapid action and greater erosive power of the mountain streams in cutting down their channels?
Whatever may be the cause of all these phenomena, the results are very apparent. Any one who has visited the Selkirks for an extended period has, without doubt, spent many a day within doors writing his diary or enjoying the pleasure of music or literature, while the rain is falling constantly, and the clouds and vapors hang low on the mountain sides. The manner in which the clouds come sweeping up the Illicellewaet valley at the base of Mount Cheops and turn toward the flanks of Eagle Peak or Mount Sir Donald is very impressive. Certainly the cloud effects in the Selkirks are magnificent beyond all description.
Nevertheless, it is not encouraging to have a friend step off the train and announce the fact that he has been enjoying fine weather for several days in the Rocky Mountains, some fifty or sixty miles to the east, while you have been confined to the house by a long period of rain.
Often, too, the climber or explorer becomes fretful under long confinement, and, taking advantage of an apparent clearing away of clouds and a promise of fair weather, when far from the hotel, is caught in a sudden downpour, and realizes the truth of that scriptural passage which was apparently written concerning a similar region—“They are wet with the showers of the mountains, and embrace the rock for want of a shelter.”