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.