Seeley Clearwater River Canoe Trail

A fun summer water activity is to paddle the Seeley Lake/ Clearwater River Canoe trail.  From Helena take Highway 12 West until you arrive at Avon.  Turn right at Avon, taking Highway 141 past Helmville. Keep on 141 to the next junction, Highway 200.  Turn left as if you were going to Ovando. Keep going to Clearwater Junction, Highway 83.  Continue on 83 past Salmon Lake and through the town of Seeley Lake.  Keep driving past the ranger station, looking for a sign to the canoe trail.  The sign is on your right, the turn is to the left.

The first part of the trail has some tight turns.   As you approach the lake, the river widens and the turns are more gradual.  During the spring, there is more flow, but later in the summer you can see western painted turtles sunning themselves on the logs and rocks. There were also ducks and other water birds.

The trail empties into the north end of Seeley Lake where there are lillypads and sometimes loons. You paddle across the lake to the take-out point. Since it was a little windy when I went, I was glad the wind was at my back.  A direct paddle across the lake would be a difficult one, across deeper water.  Cross winds and head winds are never good with a canoe.

After taking out your canoe, you hike a trail for a mile back to the point where you launched and where your car is parked.  There is a wildlife viewing area along the trail, so you can take your binoculars if you wish to watch wildlife for a while.  This trail is mosquito ridden in the spring and early June, so mosquito repellent may be in order at that time of year.  When you pick up your car, drive to the ranger station.  That is where the canoe take-out point is.

I really enjoyed this float, but was glad we launched early.  It was very busy around noon.

My Favorite Things

Preston

The road to Louise Lake

 

 

New trails to hike

 

 

 

Indian Paintbrush

 

Mountain Heather

 

Pygmy Bitteroots

A Mediocre Day at Work is Better that a Rotten Day Fishing

I recently saw a bumper sticker:  the worst day fishing is better than the best day at work.  Obviously that person has never been fishing with me.  I've had some BAD days fishing.  I have had WAY better days at work.

Yesterday Preston and I four-wheeled into a nearby mountain lake.  No. I'm not telling anyone where our fishing spot is.   After spending twenty minutes attaching tippet and fly to my fly rod I was ready to go.  Then I spent twenty minutes casting my fly and untangling it from trees, bushes, and grass. I walked to what I hoped was a good fishing spot where my reel fell off my rod and into the water.  My wet reel wouldn't reel anything in or out without an appreciable amount of persuasion. When I finally lost the fly in some grass and realized my tippet was too brittle (probably it is too old) to fish with, I switched to my other rod.

After taking a fly fishing class from a premier fly fisherman, I can never switch to using a lure without feeling like an uncultured barbarian of the first order.  The thing is, lure fishing is soooo much easier.  For most people.  On my first cast, my lure became lodged under something in the lake.  I spent ten or fifteen minutes walking this way and that, climbing over logs and boulders, trying to free it - which I finally did.  I fished without success for a while and decided to change my lure.  To change the lure, I had to hike a half a mile around the lake to the tackle box, change the lure, and then hoof it back to my "good spot."

At the good spot I cast my line a few times while fish jumped in the center of the lake.  Determined to get my lure where the fish were, I gave a forceful cast.  The top of my rod flew off the pole and into the middle of the lake and sank.  Naturally, my lure tangled in something too and could not be reeled in.  After several minutes, I kissed the lure goodbye and hauled in the line. Thus ended my fishing for the day.

Preston caught a good sized cutthroat trout, which he released.  We called it a day.  Tomorrow, I am buying a new rod, but I question the advisability of the purchase.  In my case, it's like buying aggravation.  The problem is, I can't stand being beaten. I hope this persistence will not end up driving me out of my mind.

Yes, I LOVE to Hike

Quite often when I attend a gathering of women, people are asked to introduce themselves.  Several women will usually say, "...and I love to hike."  Well, maybe some of them do.  More often, when my hiking partner and I extend an invitation to hike with us we get some creative excuses:

• I never hike below 40 degrees.  (This wipes out half the year.)
• I must stay home and redecorate my bulletin board.  (Not a dedicated hiker here.)
• I was going to go, but a friend called and wanted me to go shopping instead.  (This person usually calls a half hour before we are going to leave when we delayed our departure time just so she could come.)
• I was going to come, and then realized I hadn't visited my aunt for a while.  Could we go at noon instead of 8:00 a.m. so I can visit her first?  (No.)
• I don't have the right gear. (How have you been hiking enough to know you love it without boots, backpack, water bottle etc.?)

Since we live in an area with scads of hiking trails, it seems to be fashionable to "like" hiking.  I've learned that with most women it's all talk.

The View From Hedges Mountain

Preston and I have different views on Four-wheeling.  For him, four-wheeling is an activity itself.  Tooling around the mountains all day long on a four-wheeler is his idea of fun.  In my view, the purpose of a four-wheeler is to get me over a rough road to a great hiking trail.

After making the trip to the top of Hedges Mountain, I have modified my opinion.  Another purpose of a four-wheeler is to transport me to a spectacular view.  On top of Hedges Mountain, 7103 feet, we could see the Flint Range, Red Mountain near Lincoln, Red Mountain near Helena, and the Tobacco Roots.

Purple Fringe

Max and Gail

Steve and Preston

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

Mines

Mines from the old days leave a big mess.  When the rock is exposed it becomes very acidy.  That is why years later, nothing can grow on the mine tailings.

But the mess from old time mines can't compare with the mess modern mines leave.

The Optimist and the Pessimist

Since we were blessed with weather in the 70's yesterday and Kristy came to visit, we decided to go four wheeling on Occidental Plateau.  Four wheeling this time of year is a dicey proposition.  What looks like a dry mountain perfect for four wheeling, often turns out to have walls of drifts.  My optimistic spouse plows through the snow, certain that if he can only bust through the drift, the remainder of the route will be clear.  From experience with the spring, I know that one drift leads to another until we reach the drift we cannot pass.  Turning around on a steep, icy  hillside is not my idea of fun.  When four wheeling with my optimist our conversations usually are something like this:

Me:  Is this where the REALLY steep road is?   You know, the road where I choke trying to go down it, and you have to drive my four wheeler down.

Him:  This time you will be able to go down it.

Me: Do you see that huge drift over there?  That is Occidental Plateau.  We won't be able to get up there.

Him:  Let's try it and see.

Me:  See these patches of snow?  You know how it always is. Before long, we'll find the one patch we can't get through.

Him:  If we can get by this one place, we can make it to the top.

Me:  Here is the drift that marks the end of the trail.

Him:  Let's drive five miles over and try to get to the top from there.

The optimist

Kristy visited this weekend

Me:  Let's stop for lunch.

Him:  After we eat, I'm going to try to plow through some drifts down the trail.

Me: Are we having fun yet?

Hauser Lake

The first day above 50 degrees was mid March this year.  The nice weather inspired us to consult Helena Area HIking Guide, by Cedron Jones.  We decided to try out hike No. 6. and hike to the Fins.

Because it was the first balmy Saturday of 2013, everyone and their dog was out fishing and walking. Maybe because I'm a native Montanan, I consider it a crowd if I see more than a couple of people on the trail during a hike.  So many people were out that we could barely find a place to park.  I don't like walking into someone else's spot when he/she is fishing. According to my upbringing, I am intruding if I do that.

One enjoyable aspect of this hike is the birds along the river in this area. We saw numerous waterbirds cavorting in the water.  They were fun to watch.  Next time I'm bringing my binoculars.

Cedron Jone's book was accurate about the trail:  the first part of the hike was across rocks near the river, but the trail became easier when we found the track 20 feet or so above the river.

If I do this hike again, I am picking a week day and bringing my fishing pole.

Cliffs along the Missouri

The Fins

One of numerous fly fisherman on the river that day.

Hauser Dam