The Hike to Elk Lake

Elk Lake

Friday Kristy and I explored a part of the East Rosebud Trail in the Beartooth Mountains.  We traveled west from Billings on I-90. We exited the interstate highway at Columbus and caught state highway 78 through Absorakee and Roscoe.  At Roscoe we took the East Rosebud Road into East Rosebud Lake where the trail begins.

The drive to the trail had breath-taking views.  The views from the trail itself were incredible.  Although, the first mile of the hike was along East Rosebud Lake almost through the backyard of cabins bordering the lake.  Still, looking south into the rugged, rock mountains was worth every minute of hiking by cabins.

Maybe because it is June, the amount of water in East Rosebud Creek looked more like a river.  The drop of the creek must be fairly steep because it roared with white water for most of the trail.  There really aren't adequate words to describe the rugged beauty of the entire hike.

Elk Lake is just the first destination on this trail which continues for miles and mile through numerous lakes.

We started our hike around 9:00 am and didn't see any hikers until we were 1/2 down the trail returning from Elk Lake.  After that, we saw many, many hikers.

In and out, the trip was 6 miles and worth the two hour drive from Billings to the trailhead.

Kristy

Columbine along the trail

Looking down onto the waterfall

Wilderness sign.  Take your horse, but not your bike.  Bikes must leave too much scat, graze,
and make many more impacts than horses

How the Beartooths got their name

1996 burn leaves view of the rocks.

The road in.

Taking the Dog Along

I usually take my dog, Max, when I go hiking. Other hikers I meet on the trail often admire my chocolate lab.  They express the conviction that having Max must be a great comfort and protection for me as I hike. Anyone who thinks that has never hiked much with their hound.

The straight truth is that I take the dog because I love him and he loves to come hiking.  I hope to remain safe in spite of him, not because of him.  More than once, I have heard an ominous cracking and scuffling in the forest followed by my dog tearing through the woods and back to the trail with a speed that would impress Mario Andretti.  At these times, I pray that he is not being pursued by an irate bear or a miffed moose.  If he is being pursued, both of us could be toast.  While this realization is energizing, it is not comforting.

I remember clearly the day that Gail and I hiked into a moose foraging south of town.  The dog, feigning deafness to my repeated pleadings, "Here, Max!"  decided to chase the young bull moose.  The moose initially reacted by trotting off, but then thought the matter over.  On consideration, the moose adopted the philosophy of Dirty Harry.  He circled back to the spot in the trail where the dog had first barked at his heels, and assumed a decidedly, "Try it again, buddy, and make my day," type of attitude.

That day I learned my dog is smarter than a lot of people I know. He can read a situation fairly well. Max came to my call and submitted peacefully to being leashed. Because we dislike hospital stays and have no funeral insurance, Gail and I changed our hiking route and hiked back home another way.

Another time Gail and I hiked into an elk at the top of the Bilk Mountain trail.  Before we even knew the elk was there, Gail's Airedale, Sarah, chased it.  Sarah returned to us, limping badly.  And she limped for the next week.  Game animals first react by running.  Unlike me, they can think and run at the same time.  Upon reflection, a game animal realizes that he can take out a dog with the efficiency of a patriot missile. And the game animal is entirely correct.

My hiking adventures have taught me that taking the dog can be fun for the dog. I like making both me and the dog happy as we hike. The more I take the dog along, the more he learns to obey: come when called, leaves things when commanded. The dog can alert me to dangers in the area.  But the dog can be a danger to me and to himself.  I bear that in mind when hiking.

Study Your Back Trail

When I hike I don’t often leave the hiking trail because I don’t want to be lost.  But sometimes the hiking trail leaves me.  More than once the trail has split into a tangle of numerous little trails while I am hiking along.  Figuring out which offshoot to follow can be nerve wracking.   Then there is the problem of meadows.  It is not unusual for a trail to disappear in a meadow.   Fortunately, other hikers or the forest service personnel frequently make cairns to follow through a meadow.  I can’t depend on others making cairns for me to follow, though.

I hate having a well defined trail disappear into nothing.  It gives me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  When it happens, I have two choices:  go back or go on, using my GPS and maps.  If I decide to go on, I remember the advice given by my grandfather, Dunc Robertson. 

Grandpa had a lot of experience with bushwhacking. He was born in Montana in 1872.  Many times, he made his way to a destination without a trail. In his day, there weren't that many well established trails.  According to him, people got lost because they failed to turn around and look at what was behind them as they hiked along.  In other words, seeing what the trail looks like if the hiker was hiking the opposite direction.  If a hiker is planning on leaving the same way he came, the hiker needs to know what the trail will look like on the way out.

It’s amazing how different the terrain appears when you are facing the opposite direction.  If I have to bushwhack, I make it a point to study my back trail.

Where Am I?

If I ever hike without a map, it's because I forgot the darn thing.  I have a GPS which I use constantly.  It gives me the time, elevation, hiking speed, points of interest, the distance traveled, and even the phase of the moon.  But I don't like trying to figure out where I am with the maps on my GPS.

When my husband gave me the GPS, he also bought a tiny something or other that fits in my device that has all the topo maps of Montana. Those maps give me information about many things. Still I need a real map that provides the big picture about where in the world I am.  Maybe I am not the map guru that I ought to be, but trying to make sense of a tiny portion of a map appearing on a small screen isn't very useful to me.

Fish, Wildlife, and Parks, the local Forest Service office, and sporting goods stores all sell National Forest maps. Also, Sporting goods stores often have topographical maps of local areas. On my list of things to take hiking is maps

Preston and I.  Fourwheeling garb - the best outfit to have your picture taken in if you wish to remain anonymous.

Pasque flowers.  We found a huge meadow with millions of wild flowers.

Brad trying to find our position on his GPS, Preston enjoying the sun.

Four wheeling cohorts: Gail, Steve, and Brad

Looking towards Lava Mountain

Boots - The Foundation of Hiking

To a hiker, boots are a big deal.   They are such a big deal, that I am always surprised when I see other hikers trekking along in tennis shoes or sandals.  Even a walk around town calls for appropriate footwear.  I'll never forget the story my daughter told me of a young lady who showed up at my daughter's door for a four mile walk around town.  The young lady had settled on  flip flops as her choice of footwear.  Either the young missy had feet of steel, she had never walked four miles, or commitment to a mental institution was in order.

On a fairly level, short trail with few rocks or tree roots, tennis shoes might suffice.  But most hiking trails are not short,level, or rock free.  And I can't even imagine wearing tennis shoes to negotiate a trail made of rocks.  Even low top hiking shoes are completely inadequate for this type of trail.  High top shoes help support ankles from twisting and turning as hikers make their away across the rocks.

After trying several different types of hiking boots, my favorite is Vasque.  Since I had a bout with plantar's fasciitis a few years ago,  I wear my Vasque boots to go on any kind of walk, even to walk the dog. If I  enjoyed extra attention and the shocked expressions of onlookers, I would wear my Vasque boots to church, to sewing club, and with my swim wear.  I LOVE these boots.  I don't know what it is about this boot, but they feel like they mold to my feet and support my touchy arch.

Because of my touchy arch, I wear orthotics.  After buying the boots, I remove the boots' insole, replace it with a purchased, flat insole without arch support (the green kind you buy at the shoe store). Then, I insert my orthotics.  All  good quality boots I have run across have an arch support in the boot insole.  This support doesn't mesh with my prescription orthotics and has always caused discomfort.  That is why I purchase the flat insole and use it with my orthotics in my new boots.

When I buy boots, I purchase a half size larger than I measure and wear an extra pair of socks. I learned the value of a slightly larger pair of boots and extra socks when hiking a long, steep downhill.  The extra cushioning saved my feet from blisters and horribly squished toes as my feet slid forward with gravity.

Finally, as probably every hiker knows, I wear my new boots enough to break them in before taking a long hike.  And, taking along some moleskin cut in the shape of a doughnut can be a pain saver in the event of a blister.  Cut the moleskin in the shape of a doughnut over the injury, stack the doughnut-shaped bandages high enough to keep pressure off the blister. Then, put a gel pad to protect the area.  Just like Mom always said, DON'T pop the blister.  Feet are famous for becoming infected.  A life flight to a hospital and days of IV antibiotics will ruin a hike every time.

So think about your feet and have a fun hike.

Making a Hike Fun

I’ve found that the best way to have fun on a hike is to take some kids along.  Taking children fifth grade and older works well for me - if I can keep up with them.  I remember dragging a four year old on a jaunt and wondering if I would ever reach a hiking destination.  In only a few years, I was trailing the pack, gasping, “Wait!  This pace is too fast!”

In 1997, three of my children and one the kids’ friends hiked the Lower Crow Creek Falls trail.  The only reason we hiked Lower Crow Creek Falls was that we didn’t know the trails yet and had no idea that we were MILES away from the upper trail that led to Crow Creek Fall in only 3 ½ miles.  We didn’t reach our destination.  In fact, I’m not sure we even knew what our destination was, but we had fun along the way.

Why I Like Spring

Yellowbell

Wyoming besseya

Pasque Flowers or Prairie Crocus

Buttercups

shootingstars  or rooster heads