WIth an elevation of 806 m (2,644 ft), Gros Morne Mountain in Gros Morne National Park is the second highest peak in Newfoundland (Lewis Hill to the south stands 8 m taller). On a good day, hikers are rewarded with views of breathtaking landscapes, such as the one below. I snapped this photo from the sign at the trailhead parking lot once we had finished the hike. So that is what we were supposed to see, I thought, as we walked back to our car, shivering and wet after 16 km of hiking through rain, drizzle, and fog.
I didn't actually expect good weather for our hike up Gros Morne. The weather had behaved for our Western Brook Pond Fjord hike, which was critical for getting that iconic Newfoundland photograph of us with the fjord that's not a fjord in the background for our 2019 holiday card. To be honest, I kind of liked the weather du jour because it reminded me of northern California. Also, the view from the top was not a driving factor for doing this hike. What I really wanted to see were 1) arctic-alpine tundra plants, and 2) either willow ptarmigan or rock ptarmigan and preferably both.
We began our hike around 8 a.m., well rested after spending the previous day driving up the northern peninsula. The lay out of this hike is like a lollipop: hike uphill for several miles, do a loop that goes up one side of the mountain and comes down another, rejoin the trail and hike back down to the parking lot. The first part of the hike wandered uphill through a forest with tall trees, and I unfortunately did not take many photos since it was dim and drippy. At a certain elevation the trees, in concert, assumed a dwarf form due to the harsher elements.
As we climbed still higher the dwarf trees gave way to prostrate shrubs and the shrubs eventually gave way to boulder fields.
The next section of the hike was a boulder-strewn gulley. We had to cross at least one snowfield.
We finally left the boulder field behind and I was delighted to see Phyllodoce caerulea (blue heath or purple mountain heather depending on what side of the pond you call home). The urn-shaped flowers were a bright splash of color on a grey day.
Here is the early blooming Diapensia lapponica (pincushion plant), of the Diapensaceae family. Although it was not in bloom, I was still excited to see a member of a family that is circumboreal and in North America (other members of this family are mainly found in Himalaya and China).
Kalmia procumbens (alpine azalea)
But would we see ptarmigan??? I knew that would make Christi very happy. By this point we had passed the elevational range of willow ptarmigan, according to our guide from the Bird the Rock tour. The scat in the photo below made us hopeful for rock ptarmigan.
When we were nearing the summit, I heard Christi make a delighted noise and saw her grasp for the camera. I knew what that meant. Can you see the adult rock ptarmigan in the photo below? Hint: top 1/3, right of middle. Just like the white-tailed ptarmigan of Colorado, rock ptarmigan are masters of camouflage, but they are bigger birds.
The icing on the cake was the little ptarmigan chicks we saw scampering about.
Here's one more photo through the fog because... Because ptarmigan chicks are so effing cute!!!!
After the ptarmigan moved on, I started photographing miniature ecosystems amongst the boulders.
British soldier lichen
Lovely green moss
Fern and lichen
Finally we arrived at the summit of Gros Morne Mountain. It was chilly at 806 m.
As we ate our peanut butter and cloudberry jam sandwiches, I thought to myself, that wasn't so bad. The rest of the hike is downhill and will be easy. Little did I know that the worst was yet to come.
Since I assumed the worst was behind us, I took my time photographing more mosaics of tundra species. Plus, with the dense fog, there wasn't much else to photo.
The ubiquitous white flower Sibbaldiopsis tridentata (shrubby fivefingers)
Another lichenous and mossy scene
Unknown graminoid species and moss
Lycopodium sp. clubmoss. What an ancient-looking plant that almost looks aquatic.
More clubmoss
The descent began with a long flight of slippery stairs, so long that the end had disappeared into the fog.
Another flight of slippery stairs leading to a pond, which we couldn't see until we were 30 feet away.
The next phase: rough terrain of the ankle-twisting variety
A monotonous boulder field with no plants to distract me
Finally the fog started to lift a little which showed us that we still had a very long hike ahead.
This section looks easy, but it was the most difficult as it involved stepping down very large and slippery boulders. We ran into a 3-generational trio of Newfoundlanders during this section: a teenaged boy, a middle-aged father, and his 80 year old mother. We talked to the friendly father for a while, but the 80 year-old grandma was far ahead, kicking our asses at hiking.
Eventually we entered the forest again and knew we were on the home stretch. Here is one of my last photos, Cornus canadensis growing out of moss. This species exists in Colorado, here and there in small populations and is always a surprise and delight to see. In Newfoundland, it is a ubiquitous groundcover of more than one ecosystem.
8.5 hours after we started we completed the hike, unscathed. I was happy to see our rental car in the parking lot, waiting for us with the warm embrace of a heater.
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