Beautiful music in the wild
Strange and exotic things can happen in the high places. On the morning of Aug. 3, two members of The Thursday Over the Hill Gang were working their way with me up the second tier of waterfalls near the base of Mount Oberlin midst one of Glacier Park's most beautiful collections of vast scenery, wild flowers, crystal ponds, wildlife and red rock formations. It is a giant amphitheater overflowing with all mother nature's miracles on the Crown of the Continent.
In the lead up an iced carved ledge, came upon a young woman standing transfixed, gazing west to the dizzying heights of Mt. Clements, and she didn't see me until I was a few feet away. Asked her if she was going to climb Oberlin and she nodded yes. Asked her if she knew the best way up, and she replied, "I think I remember because I did it a few years ago … when I was a Ranger in Glacier."
After a bit of small talk I asked her where she lived. "New York City."
"What do you do there?"
Answer: "I am an opera singer."
She went on to tell me a little about the difficulty choosing between being a Glacier Ranger and her love of music. She was on her way to sing in San Francisco until the end of December. Explained she was a "free-lance singer" and filled in for opera companies where there were vacancies. Her exuberance and joy in the mountains was obvious. Reached in my pack and pulled out a hardbound copy of my last climbing book, "Glaciers Secrets - Goat Trails and Grizzly Tales."
Signed it and gave it to her.
Delighted, the young lady said: "I've been wanting this book. How can I ever thank you?"
"Maybe sometime, you can sing me a song."
A beautiful, powerful, emotional singing voice suddenly filled the world around us … overpowering the waterfalls, reverberating from the cliffs and canyons. Thrilling it was … and awesome in its magic. Even a young mountain goat stood transfixed.
"He's got the whole world, in his hands. He's got the whole wide world, in his hands. He's got the little bitty babies … ."
When the song was done, I asked her name. She said it was Julia Kierstine. My friend Bob Zavadil was disappointed he had left his recorder in the car. Ed came up where we were standing and said, "This is like the 'Sound of Music.'" A cue! Julia made the mountains ring with "The hills are alive with the sound of music … ."
Don't know what route she used going up to the summit, but I didn't see her anytime during her ascent. Being a father of two young women and a grandfather of a young lady, I have concern about any woman climbing mountains all alone.
Three hours later, I was getting more concerned, then there was a tiny figure moving against the sky … walking the ridge between Oberlin and Clements. I was sitting beside a spring below the great northeastern cliffs of Mt. Clements. The human a thousand feet above me sat down on a rock and my binoculars verified the singer.
Gave her a mighty "H E L L OOOOOO." Answering back came one clear note in the alpine air. A note at the high end of a mezzo-soprano scale … and it was held on perfect pitch.
Later saw her descending along the edge of a snow field near the base of the mountain, safely delivered from peril.
Julia is planning to send us a CD. If it comes before Going to the Sun Highway closes, I'll hike to the waterfalls on Oberlin with a player and a couple of small amplifiers.
I'll take Bob and Ed if they promise to be very quiet during Julia's encore.