Places to Hike and Bike in May

To find hiking routes in May, invest in Helena Area Hiking Guide by Cedron Jones.  This books gives information on several hiking routes within 20 miles of Helena.  Many of the routes are low enough in elevation to hike in May.  It has been fun trying to find the routes and hiking in new places.

Probably because of Cedron Jones' book, many of these routes are now well marked by BLM.  The Spokane Butte area near the Canyon Ferry Lake and Scratch Gravel are routes that are very accessible this time of year. In the Scratch Gravel area, there are several hiking and biking routes.

A GPS is handy when using the Helena Area Hiking Guide. Also, I like to read through the book in advance and look up some of the terms, so I know what the author is talking about. For example, Jones talks about a col in hike 17, Travis Peak area. I needed to look "col" up in the dictionary to know to look for "A depression or pass in a mountain range or ridge."  Random House Unabridged Dictonary, 2nd Edition (1993).   For me, the routes are always longer or more expansive than I thought they would be.  When Cedron Jones says a hike is difficult, bring rock climbing equipment and a friend to belay for you.

The Trouble with Pepper Spray...

My hiking partner thinks I should address some of our experiences with pepper spray.  The only problem is:  which experience should I talk about first?  Should I begin with the time I accidentally pepper sprayed an outhouse at the fairgrounds?  Or should I write about the time I saw Gail bailing out of my truck as we drove up Avalanche Gulch because her pepper spray discharged in the car?   Or should I write about the time pepper spray fired in my room as I loaded my backpack for an overnight hike?  Maybe I will relate a pepper spray story now and then.  It would take too long to tell ALL of the stories in one post.              

After experience with pepper spray, all I can say is I hope I never stumble on an animal I need to ward off with pepper spray.  For one thing, you can’t spray anything else without a microscopic particle of pepper spray landing on you too.  If the particle lands in your eye, plan on being in agony for the next hour and pray there is water nearby.  You might drive off the animal, but you are going to hurt….bad.

Also, a better safety for pepper spray would be a wonderful thing.  Accidents are awful!

Riding the Great Outdoors

Colin Jenkins likes skiing, biking, and kayaking in the Great Outdoors.  Colin grew up in Star Valley Wyoming.  He attended Utah State University in Logan, Utah where he intended to major in Big Game Management and Forestry.  At that time, Utah State was the top school in the US for those fields of study.  When Colin discovered that he REALLY didn’t like Biology, he changed his major to computers and ended up working for Blue Cross Blue Shield in Helena after graduation.

He started biking with friends as they participated in loooooong ride from Missoula, Clearwater Junction, Seeley, St. Ignatius, and Polson.  Last summer Colin participated in a very long ride across Iowa. 

Having had a few serious biking accidents, Colin’s advice to bikers is to be alert.  One of Colin’s accidents was caused by a cat that ran in front of his bike.  Another was caused by a rock on the Ridge trail.  That time Colin believes his helmet saved his life.

One of the places Colin likes to ride is the River’s Edge Trail in Missoula.  On this trail Colin advises bikers to stay left and stay off the trails that lead to the river.  Colin also likes riding to Blackfoot Meadows, Cottonwood Lake, and Crow Creek Falls.  During the last month of the biking season in September, Colin is a Marshall on the Hiawatha Trail.

Sugar is something that Colin has found to be handy when riding.  He carries a bottle of M&Ms.  Sometimes just a little boost of sugar is what a biker needs to make it to the end of a ride, according to Colin.  Colin also keeps a spreadsheet where he tracks his ride mileage, ride locations, grand total of the season’s mileage, and any comments about each ride.

And biking is only Colin’s second favorite outdoor sport.  Another time, I’ll find out the scoop on skiing, his favorite.

Diversity

Not long ago, I realized my hiking partner and I are a different breed. When my husband asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I replied, “Good quality rain gear from Cabellas.”  One year my hiking partner announced that she wanted snowshoes for Christmas.  (The kind you use for winter hiking.  They used to look like tennis rackets.) That year I decided to put snow shoes on my Christmas list also, so I could go snow shoeing with her.   When my hiking partner turned sixty, she announced that her deepest Christmas wish was to find ice skates under her tree. I was thrilled beyond belief when my husband presented me with a GPS one birthday. 

 While other men haunt Jewelry stores and ask the advice of saleswomen in the lingerie section of department stores, our husbands search the internet for specialized backpacks and research the best type of ski boot. 

This excess of practicality is not entirely our fault.  I remember preparing a candlelight dinner at home one evening.  I stepped out of the dining room for a minute and returned to find all the kitchen and dining room lights on.  “I couldn’t see my food,” my husband kindly explained.  Gail’s husband shows his esteem and devotion by spending hours finding her the right motorcycle.

In this day where the virtues of diversity are extolled, make room for those who don’t care if they tour Europe, stay overnight at the Ritz, attend a cocktail party with celebrities, or own an evening gown.   Contrary to television or movie portrayals, those who prefer chatting with friends around a campfire over the Film Festival at Nice might have a brain or two in their heads.  They might not be called Billy-Bob, wear overalls, and spend the majority of their waking hours guzzling beer.  They might even speak correct English and have an intelligent thought or two.   

It's All in Your Perspective

Dave Ungerman cannot remember a time when he did not love the Great Outdoors.  One of his earliest outdoor memories is living on the last road before the edge of a forest in Washington State. Dave and his buddies loved spending their time hanging out in a tree house, bike riding into the forest as far as they dared, or climbing enormous trees for a view of a clear day.

When Dave was thirteen, his family moved to Butte.  At the time, Dave thought he’d come to the end of the world.  But he soon found out that Butte was a great place to live for someone who loved the outdoors.   Although Dave and his buddies did not have driver’s licenses, there were plenty of back roads where they rode motorbikes. Once when school was out for Parent/Teacher Conference, Dave and a friend rode their motorbikes down a back road into the Butte Highlands.  Since hunting season was scheduled to start in a few weeks, they parked the bikes and scouted for deer. 

After tracking deer for a while, Dave and his buddy decided to head back to their bikes.  In his zeal to track game animals and being a newcomer to the area, Dave had neglected to keep tabs on his own location.  He and his friend spend the next four or five hours trying to find their motorbikes.  As night fell, they realized they were lost.

In typical Dave Ungerman style, Dave shot a grouse, made a camp fire, ate dinner, and settled in for the night.  Since the temperature dropped into the teens that night and Dave had only a jean jacket, he remembers that he unconsciously rolled into the warm ashes of the fire as he slept.  Both Dave and his friend woke up the next morning covered in black ashes.

Their predicament ended when a National Guard plane spotted the smoke from their fire.  A rescuer arrived to show them the way out.  They hitched a ride home with the Silverbow County Sheriff.  “He loaded our bikes into his vehicle and never said a word to us about riding them illegally,” Dave recalled. While he escaped trouble with the Sheriff, he remembers being in big trouble at home. 

This experience in no way soured Dave’s love for the outdoors.  One of his favorite outdoor places is the Glacier Park Highline Trail.  This trail winds along a ridge for several miles, affording fantastic views.  As he hiked, Dave recounts stepping off the trail for mountain goats to pass by.  This trail ends near a main road where hikers can catch a shuttle back to their cars. 

When asked about handy equipment to take on outdoor adventures, Dave picks his Leatherman utility tool that is in a case with a mini flashlight.  He uses it daily, outdoors or indoors.

As a Montanan for over 40 years, Dave notes that things change.  “Every generation that ever lived in Montana has seen things come and things pass away.  In our generation we see land locked up, but our grandfathers saw open land fenced in with barbed wire.  The new generation coming up has its own perspective on things.   My grandchildren think Montana is the most wonderful place on earth.  We can be miserable or not.  It’s all in your perspective.”

The First of the Season

Today we spotted the first phlox and first Prairie Crocus, or Pasque flowers of the season.
Phlox

Prairie Crocus or Pasque Flowers

When a Misunderstanding Can Be a Miserable Thing

Some people feel a sense of anticipation in taking a trip abroad.  This is the same anticipation I feel when exploring a new trail for the first time.  Even with maps for guidance, a hiker can’t predict with accuracy what the newest adventure will entail. That’s why hikers talk to other hikers with experience on a trail.  On one outdoor adventure I learned that communicating clearly is vital when asking about a trail.

After hiking Helena National Forest Trail 329 to Blackfoot Meadows and hiking Deer Lodge National Forest Trail 65 to Cottonwood Lake, I noticed the existence of a trail between Cottonwood Lake and Blackfoot Meadows.  This was unfamiliar territory, so I looked over a topographical map.  The map indicated this journey would be easier if it began at the Cottonwood Lake Trailhead and ended at the Blackfoot Meadows Trailhead.

Several years went by before I embarked on this adventure.  In the meantime, I chatted with Colin, a biker extraordinaire. I asked him about biking this route.  Colin said he had been on that route, and it was fine.  A communication problem was lurking in our conversation: He was talking hiking.  I was talking biking. 

True to form, I rounded up two prospective victims, Kristy and Gail.  We planned our ten mile bike ride, the middle of which was unfamiliar territory.  My husband was working on the Blackfoot Meadows side of the trail, so we could hitch a ride with him if we started at the Blackfoot Meadows Trailhead.  Completely forgetting why the starting point should be on Cottonwood Lake side, I ensnared my innocent hiking partners in this escapade.

The ride into Blackfoot Meadows was uphill but enjoyable.  Just after the meadows, we stopped for lunch and then wheeled off into the unknown.

The misery began.  There might be biking trails that are more swampy, rutted, steep, and rank with mosquitoes than the trail between Blackfoot Meadows and Cottonwood Lake, but who would want to know about them? It seemed like this three mile stretch would never end as we rode, pushed, and carried out bikes through standing water and negotiated  switchbacks with inclines comparable to Mount Everest. “Biking” this stretch took hours.

Fatiguing, mosquito infested trails are aggravating and uncomfortable. Trails that disappear, reappear in duplicate, and create confusion are frightening, especially when you are miles from help.  When you are exhausted, the prospect of getting lost is life threatening.  Being mountain women, we don’t cry.  We pray a lot, though. 

Swatting mosquitoes all the way, we decided to tackle what appeared to be a new trail up a steep mountain.  Gail turned to me and said, “This would have been much easier on foot rather than pushing a bike.” Truer words were never spoken.  We passed from the Helena National Forest into the Deer Lodge National Forest and waited for the steep drop down the mountain to Cottonwood Lake.  It never came. We might have decreased a few feet in elevation, but we found Cottonwood Lake is much higher that Blackfoot Meadows.  That’s when I remembered why starting our journey at the Cottonwood Lake end was preferable. I wanted to ride down, not up.

After the hike, I contacted my biking advisor, Colin, and gave him the benefit of my valuable observations about this experience.  I didn’t employ colorful language to express my emotions about my interesting experience, but it took an abundance of self restraint. “Oh,” he said, surprised, “I was talking about a hike I took when I was a Boy Scout Leader.  I’ve never biked through from the meadows to the lake.”   A little misunderstanding can be a miserable thing.

Riding a Motor Bike Was the Greatest Thing Ever!

One of Cheryl Ungerman’s first jobs was in the Great Outdoors.  Cheryl, a Butte native, was fourteen when she landed a job painting picnic tables and cleaning campgrounds along “the nine mile” in the Butte Highlands.   Doing this job, Cheryl realized how much she loved being outdoors.   As a youngster, she occasionally went fishing on Red Rock Reservoir near Dillon in her brother’s boat.   But it wasn’t until Cheryl married that she was able to spend as much time as she liked in the Great Outdoors.

When Cheryl married her husband, Dave, their first home was an old train car near Homestake Lake.  “The outdoors was my backyard,” said Cheryl.   Her husband Dave schooled her in the art of riding a motor bike and Cheryl was off to the Great Outdoors.  “I thought riding a motor bike was the greatest thing ever! I loved exploring.  There were old cabins at Coyote Flats to explore.  We would ride to Lake Delmo.   Our daughter Tonya was just a toddler, and she would fall asleep on the motor bike.”

Cheryl says her husband Dave was her greatest inspiration in developing a love for the outdoors.  She loves fishing with Dave.  She and Dave used to go hunting often, but Cheryl says hunting is hard work, and she is taking a break from it. 

Once when she and Dave were hunting in 2000, the Fall sun rapidly disappeared behind the mountains.  In the dark, they lost the trail they were walking to their truck.  Starting to get nervous, Cheryl and Dave sat down on a log for a moment to evaluate their situation.  They had emergency blankets, granola bars, a flashlight, and matches.  They knew they could make it through the night, but they wanted to get home.  Turning on the flashlight, they found they were on an old logging road.  Cheryl surmised they were heading the wrong way.  They turned around and eventually found the trail again. “We didn’t get home until after 10:00 pm that night.”

When asked about her most handy piece of equipment, Cheryl picks her four-wheeler.  She likes being able to drive over a rough road to a hiking trail.  She is disappointed at the amount of land the Forest Service is closing.  She thinks many of the closures are due to people who take their four wheelers where they are not supposed to and ruin opportunities for everyone.   One of Cheryl’s pet peeves is finding that horses have been on the trail she is walking on.  Cheryl says so many trails are open to horses, but horses impact the environment too.  Thanks, Cheryl, for your perspective on the Great Outdoors!

Casey Meadows Early 1990s

In 1988 an huge fire engulfed the Elkhorns.  It affected the Casey Meadows trail.  These pictures were taken in the early 1990s.  It's amazing to see how much the trees have grown in the last twenty years.

Hiking Snacks

Snack foods that travel well on a hike:

GORP
brownies
jerky
peanuts or tree nuts
carrots, cauliflower, celery
oranges
commercial bars such as Luna or Cliff

To Err or Not to Err

One of the perplexities of hiking is knowing when to trust your judgment and when to question it.  Usually, I make a mistake of questioning my judgment when I can rely on it.  For instance, once I decided to hike to Casey Meadows from a different direction than usual.   Using Topo, a computer program that allows the user to trace routes with a computer mouse and calculate mileage on USGS quadrant maps, I created a loop route in the Elkhorns: Casey Meadows Trail No. 343 to Willard Creek Trail No. 302 to Tepee Creek Trail No. 301 to the upper end of Casey Meadows Trail No. 343 and out.  I traced this route with Topo which indicated the route was ten miles long. 

After determining the route would be ten miles with Topo’s tracing tool, I either fell victim to terminal wishful thinking or had a brain spasm.  “No,” I thought, “the route can’t be that long.  I must not be using Topo correctly.”  I traced the route again, using a different starting point and came up with seven miles.  Then I lured three unfortunate people into joining me on a seven mile hike.  These unfortunates were my hiking partner Gail, Kristy, and Anna. 

Our hike was uneventful as we branched off onto the Willard Creek Trail.  I was uneasy because the distance to Trail No. 301 seemed longer than I had planned.  Tension reigned, so we paused and someone suggested Kristy lead us in some yoga warm-ups.  Strange, I know, but why not?  On the trails I usually hike there are rarely any other people to observe eccentric behavior. 

After a rest, yoga and a snack, we pressed on.

Another perplexity of hiking is that the trail of choice is always green, clear of obstacles, and generally wonderful on a Forest Service map.  Then you take the hike and get a dose of reality.

Branching onto Tepee Creek Tr. No. 301 reality set in.  The day was June 6.  The trail wound through the massive 1988 burn.  Wind had flung dead trees everywhere across the trail, and the Forest Service Trail maintenance crews had not had time to clear it.   If the Army Rangers ever need an obstacle course guaranteed to drive recruits to collapse, this part of the trail would be just what they are looking for.   Every five feet or less, trees were down across the trail.  We were climbing over, crawling under, and sliding across, making painfully slow progress. 

In a state of exhaustion, we decided to stop and eat lunch, even if was 10:30 in the morning.  During lunch, we realized we either had to plot a different course or go back.   Guiltily, we left the trail and tip toed up a beautiful alpine meadow to the top of the mountain. 

Now, we needed to find the trail again. At this point Anna, who had just returned from an 18 month church mission that did not include exercise of any kind, lost confidence in my abilities as a guide.  She had a point, I am sorry to say.   I have difficulty locating a paved trail marked with fluorescent tape and flashing neon lights.  Fortunately, my hiking partner Gail has second sight when it comes to trails.  She notices a bent blade of grass and picks out a trail, even if the trail is a half mile away.   In no time, Gail had located the path and we marched down into Casey Meadows.

At Casey Meadows, I realized Anna showed wisdom in questioning my leadership abilities.    I looked at my GPS and noticed we had already hiked seven miles.  I should have trusted my first calculations.  It was three miles to the car, for a total of ten miles. 

To add insult to injury, Anna’s energy was depleted, and Gail remembered that she needed to be in East Helena in an hour to babysit her grandchildren.  Hoofing it out of Casey Meadows in double-time, I sprained my ankle.  I taped it with duct tape, and we loped down the trail.  A quarter of a mile from the end of the trail, Anna cornered me.  Under penalty of death, she extracted a promise that we were on the right trail and were almost finished.   A ten mile hike after 18 months of no exercise was beyond unreasonable.  I am astonished that Anna did not offer even one whining remark that day.

A week later, I asked Anna if she would like to join me on another seven mile hike on the Ridge Trail.  Under oath, I testified that the hike was seven miles long and not a mile more.  Oddly enough, Anna was busy that day.