May 25th Day 1: Leaving West
The rain woke me up at 6:30.
It wasn’t thunder or wind. It was as if god was dropping thousands of marbles from the sky, flooding the street and alleys around the house, and the rain wouldn’t slow throughout the day.
Of course the weather’s decision to turn away from a week’s worth of beautiful sunny days to pouring rain came the day I head into the water logged forests and mountain ranges of the Cabinet/ Yaak. It’s the closest area in the inner continental U.S. to a temperate rainforest, receiving more than twice as much rain as the Montana average.
Preparing for this trip got a bit tougher overnight.
Now along with food, clothes, barbed wire and nails, we have to pack in snowshoes, trekking poles, axes and saws in case we come across blizzard conditions. I’m relieved we’re not backpacking this trip. Instead, we’ll be setting up camp in a pop-up trailer at the Troy Ranger Station outside Troy, Mont, population 1,000.
Ken Honeycutt and I will be covering strictly low elevation trails and roads, below 5,000 ft in elevation, where the heavy snow line still lingers, constructing up to 200 rub trees.
Day 1 continued: Troy Ranger Station
It’s cold, rainy, yet gorgeous.
I always forget until I return to the northwest corner of Montana that it’s my favorite area in the state, besides Glacier of course.
We drove yesterday evening through low fog and showers, entering the green forests of the Kootenai, alongside the Cabinet Mountains. Those peaks may only reach around 8,000 ft, but considering that the Kootenai River at the Idaho boarder is the lowest spot in the state, 1,800 ft, makes the peaks much more impressive. Mist hung on the snow covered passes on both sides of Highway 2, as elk and deer grazed and crossed the road throughout the trip. Rain fell in waves, and in between I swore I could almost see the sun.
We arrived in Troy to a parked pop-up trailer next to the Kootenai National Forest fire crew locker room. The trailer apparently has a gas leak, so we don’t have heat for the time being.
This will be home until we finish this 9 day hitch. At least there is power and lights, so Ken and I could plan out our days. Well, he planned. I took pictures. We have books and books of maps, road maps, trail maps, measuring snow levels, distances, forest service and private land. The study area is huge, and we need to figure out a strategy that will be beneficial for our time and the study in its early season hitch.
Tomorrow’s the day. I finally get to witness first hand what I signed up to do. All I can do is wake up and hope my hiking boots hold up without waterproof material.
And hopefully I don't freeze in the night.
It’s doubtful, not the freezing part.
May 26th Day 2: Porcupine Creek
I met Kris, the Cabinet Project Manager, this morning before heading out into our first day. She gave us the new tree tags and asked if 400 would be enough. I don’t think she understood our goal would be 150 trees.
She also installed heat for us in the little pop-up, and does it feel good after a day of constant rain showers and hiking through wet brush and snowpack.
Turns out that the leak in the camper was actually in the roof, and not a gas leak, so we froze for no reason…
Despite my lack of activity over the past few months, I managed fairly well out there. I guess I still have youth on my side.
Today took Ken and I up Porcupine Creek south of Libby in the foothills of the Cabinets. It was a nice area, nothing spectacular. We cris-crossed through meadows, across creeks, and up and down hills all the way to the snowline at around 5,000 ft. And goddamn was it cold. Well, the air wasn’t too bad, but my soaked feet were. There’s not enough waterproof spray in the world that could’ve kept my boots dry today.
I also realized I have a lot to learn about my limits out here. When we hit the snow and the long stretches of downed timber to climb over, I looked at Ken as if he was crazy. Why the hell are we still moving? The clouds were darkening, snow started to fall, but I think it was my poor mood that caused it. Your mood determines even the weather or at least your ability to overcome it.
Throughout the eight-mile day, we only managed to construct four rub trees, and one we had to dig through three feet of snow to do so. I guess the area we were in was fairly bear free. In fact the only bear we saw was a young black bear from the highway, driving back into Troy. It was the first bear I’ve seen in my time with the bear crew. I’m known in my family and now in the crew as bear repellant.
I’m hoping tomorrow will be more promising. We’re hitting the day early, so more gas station coffee will be necessary.
Somewhere between the morning fog, Radiohead and my tired thoughts, I could’ve sworn I’d find Sasquatch today. Well maybe I’d have more luck if I had some magic mushrooms. That would’ve capped off my dreamlike morning in Callahan Creek.
The clouds were so low I could’ve stuck my spork (handy camping utensil) into them as I ate my oatmeal. But as another cup of gas station coffee settled into my veins, they lifted up, and we found more snow, downed timer and closed gates blocking our every move.
Ken and I spent the majority of the day driving. We didn’t mean to stick strictly to road-side rubs, but every trail we tried to find or get to was blocked in some way. Snow blocked the route to Goat Creek, and timber cut it off at the other end. The only trail we managed to find was a tourist trap tour of the Callahan Logging Mill of the early 1900s. It was probably the worst attempt at a historic trail I’ve ever seen. All that was there were a dozen or so signs of facts or stories and park benches every couple hundred yards.
I guess bears don’t like logging literature, because the five-mile trail gave us zero rub trees.
Despite the bad luck on hikes, we managed to double our rube total from yesterday, setting our total at 12. I think Kris expected us to put up 40 a day.
Day 4: Arbo Creek
Ken and I decided, as we were planning our hitch that we would save the Yaak for the best weather.
Granted, we were simply joking to lighten the mood, while rain shower after shower drizzled on the roof of the camper.
Sunday morning brought a bluebird day. So we went up Arbo Creek between Yaak and Troy. It was the first day of the year I was able to hike in sandals, walking up creeks and enjoy doing so.
Driving into the forest I could sense seeing a bear. Even Ken was giving me guidelines for bear etiquette in grizzly country. We followed wildlife hints everywhere: moose, lion and bear scat, flipped over rocks, and we even managed to take home moose paddles as souvenirs. Yet, all we came across were more downed trees, blocking our path, causing us to bushwhack or climb over the blockades. This area must’ve been hit by some severe weather this winter, because everyday we come across similar dead ends.
We still managed to climb up a beautiful trail and up a ridge that looked over a lot of the lower Yaak drainage. Hopefully the luck continues with the weather.
Day 5: Cabinets!... I mean Keeler Creek (Angry Mamma Bear)
Another sunny day brought us to another random road blocked adventure. With gas station coffee in hand, I drove down the Bull River Valley, alongside the Cabinet Mountains, thinking we were on the verge of our first taste of the wilderness area, where no roads touch the 100,000 acre pristine forest and mountain range, but the trail vanished, leaving us avoiding private property signs and colliding rivers, risking either getting shot by locals or wet without reason.
So we decided otherwise and drove more roads, driving up and around Keeler Creek, north of Bull Lake. Since we missed out on a gorgeous hike this morning, we decided to hike deep into the Kootenai Forest on an abandoned and overgrown logging road.
From the start, we found more fallen timber, but we prevailed into the snowpack. Storm clouds loomed overhead to the sound of growls and barks.
I was a good 30 meters ahead of Ken, when I realized what I heard.
So I looked back to see Ken leaning over, laughing quietly into his open hand. The other held his can of pepper spray.
So I armed myself as well.
The growls continued as Ken made his way towards me, and I asked, “Is that a bear?”
Ken simply laughed and nodded his head. He turned around and started talking to the direction. It still hadn’t shown its face. “Hey bear. Hey-o.”
We continued walking, pepper spray in hand about a hundred yards from where we first heard the growls to a old intersection. I walked down towards our destination, but Ken went to the wooden pole.
I knew it was a rub tree.
I stood there, thinking, “There is no way he is setting up a rub tree…No way in hell.”
But, he set down his pack to find the GPS and yellow markers and started hammering. Then the bear was back, angrier.
“Ken, we’re going. There’s no way I’m putting up a rub right here,” I yell.
He finally agreed and we made our way, after he took the GPS point and finished hammering the markers.
We couldn’t have gone another quarter mile before we came across another rub tree, and this time it was quiet enough to set down our bags and put one up. But half way through installing the barbed wire, we heard crunching branches in the forest.
“Mike, put on your pack and grab your spray,” Ken shouted. “Get out of here bear!! Get out now!”
My eyes lit up, and my heart started racing again. He told me to keep my pack on and watch his back as he finished the rub.
We didn’t hear the bear again. And I’m still not sure if the crunching at the second tree was in fact the same bear, but the invisible culprit made for an exciting event.
We ate lunch down the trail a ways, and Ken went over bear safety with me and laughed that we probably should’ve gone over it on day one.
And from there we went on more roads. I found my first rub tree on my own and met some random East Coaster from Virginia, surveying wolves. She was awkward.
Well that was Keeler Creek.
The End.
P.s. I want to go to Argentina.
A Lesson in Rubs
Add yellow tags for trail markers, tree number tag barbed wire. and presto. A rub tree.
Day 6: Libby’s St. John’s E.R.
I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. in the worst pain imaginable. I tried to fight through it, but my gut and groin was in excruciating pain.
I made it to a few minutes before we were to take off for another day of hiking, before I told Ken I think I have to go to the emergency room.
So I took the rig and drove myself to Libby to get it checked out, and it turned out I had a hernia and had to get surgery.
I’m down and out with another fluky injury for two weeks.
Enough on that subject.
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