Fewer rocks in Erin's last national championships before Moab

     When I signed up for the Moab Trail Marathon a few months ago, I wasn’t sure I’d be ready. When I saw how many damn rocks were on the course during our pre-race, I wasn’t sure I’d be ready. When I woke up the morning of the Moab Trail Marathon, having gotten a negligible amount of sleep, I wasn’t sure I’d be ready.

     Spoiler: I wasn’t.

     But let’s back up for a sec.

     About 10 months ago, I retired from professional running. I walked away from a team, a support system and a sponsorship deal. I walked away broken. 

     I packed up, moved to Missoula and have been working to piece my running back together ever since.

     So, I came into this race not really sure I’d be ready. I’d struggled mentally in more workouts than I’d like to admit, and that same fire to push my limits had proved harder to grasp than I’d remembered.

Erin (#53) on the startline in Moab

     Maybe I should have been gentle with myself. I’d had a long road through injury and frustration, just to get to the level I was at now. Maybe I should have done the mental work first. Meditated or something. Visualized. Told myself I was doing great. Indulged in a little self- care. But I’m stubborn and that’s not really my style. I figured if I just kept throwing myself into the fire, one day it was going to click. I’d latch onto that fire, and I’d want nothing more than to hurt as bad as I could and beat as many people as possible.

     So, I threw myself into the Moab Marathon and…felt tremendously terrible. The race went out hard. I was winded at mile 4. Around miles 8 to 10 I was convinced that if I took another Gu I would surely vomit. The mile and a half long hill around mile 12 felt like a marathon within itself. I stumbled along the slick rock that followed and struggled to follow the course between miles 14 and 18. Meanwhile, willing the sun to release me from its scorching torment. I finally grabbed some Tailwind around mile 19 and had a small resurgence. I came across another runner, one who had passed me and left me in her dust, as I had started to struggle earlier in the race. I’d watched her fly up the long climb around the halfway mark, making it look easy, as I wondered to myself, what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I do that? I asked if she was okay, and she said through tears that she’d been cramping for 5 miles. I encouraged her to try and stick me and tried to offer her one of the gels I seriously should have taken midrace. I was encouraged by this sense of communal struggle and by the idea that in the dilapidated state I found myself I could still offer help to another. I carried on, feeling flowy along a short, smooth section of trail that descended towards the finish area, before it continues out towards the obstacle course. I hit what I can only describe as a re-bonk in the obstacle course, and finally willed myself across the line after a very slow last 3 miles, just happy to be done.

Still enjoying running post-race

     Yeah, I wasn’t quite ready for that. I wish I could tell you more about the course, but honestly it all blurs together. I’ve been told the Moab Marathon Course is beautiful. I even tried to tell myself midway through the race in hopes of mustering so long-lost source of energy. Unfortunately, beautiful views don’t have quite the energizing effect that calories do. Really though, it’s an incredible race, and a stunning place. I’d highly recommend, especially if you’re interested in throwing yourself into the fire.  Hopefully someone will enjoy and/or be able to relate to this story. Whether yes or no, happy trails and keep chasing! 

-Erin Clark

You'll be able to follow Erin's progress during the Bandera 100k here. 

With the completion of some additional volunteer days and a few procedural steps, this new trail on Mount Dean Stone should open to the public in time for users to see the glacier lilies bloom. Credit: Brian Williams

Everything has aligned for new singletrack trail on Mount Dean Stone

2021 might be the most hyped year so far this century, with good reason. As Missoula-based trail runners we have something significant to look forward to this year – the opening of a new trail on newly acquired public lands in Missoula. This spring the High, Wide, and Handsome trail on Mount Dean Stone is slated to open. The trail was built through coordinated efforts of MTB Missoula and Five Valleys Land Trust last summer and fall, which included help from many volunteers and funding from Run Wild Missoula. All accounts suggest that the trail lives up to its name!

High, Wide, and Handsome will connect the lower portions of Mount Dean Stone’s system (Barmeyer and Sousa trails) with the upper reaches of the mountain, ending in a loop just below the true summit. The trail is nearly five miles long and has been built with a moderate 8% grade to accommodate hiking, biking, and running. It winds upwards through ponderosa, larch, and Douglas fir forest, and won’t be as exposed as city-side trails on Mount Jumbo and Sentinel. There are numerous spots along the trail that provide spectacular views across the Missoula Valley, as well as views to the east, including glimpses of the Blackfoot River.

A view of the Bitterroot Range from High, Wide, and Handsome. Credit: Brian Williams.

I can’t wait to enjoy this trail in the fall when the air is crisp and our larch are bright yellow, but I promise you I won’t wait that long to give it a try. An opening date for the trail has not yet been set, but an early December 2020 unanimous vote by the Missoula City Council to utilize 2018 Missoula Open Space Bond funds and private funding to complete the land acquisition set the final pieces in motion to guarantee 2021 access. Many runners from our community reached out to their city council members in support of this acquisition, and our voices contributed to this positive outcome. And this wasn’t the last opportunity to personally get some skin in the game to improve public trail access on Mount Dean Stone. If there are additional volunteer days to prepare High, Wide, and Handsome for public use we’ll update this post with that information, as well as an update about the scheduled opening date when that becomes available.

2019 Access Map provides an overview of the area. Full resolution version available from Five Valleys Land Trust

High, Wide, and Handsome won’t be the end of this project either. The next phase, for which Five Valleys Land Trust has already secured partial funding, is an additional five miles of trail that will connect High, Wide, and Handsome to the top of Deer Creek. I’ve had a chance to walk the proposed site of this next phase of trail and the views were inspiring! In just a matter of years, it will be possible to link single track on Mount Dean Stone to the Pattee Canyon system and Mount Sentinel’s trails via a few miles on a dirt road. Thanks to the foresight of citizens who have voted for open space funding, organizations and individuals who have contributed additional funds, non-profit organizations doing the complicated work to acquire new public lands, trail engineers at MTB Missoula, and volunteers who are willing to get dirty creating these new trails our remarkable public trail system is about to even more comprehensive.

-          Erin Clark, Run Wild Missoula Board of Directors

Summer(s) on the CDT Part 6: Homestake to Blossburg 
By Tim Mosbacher

Our Lady of the Rockies above Butte

In the spring of 2020, two years after we left the CDT trail, Ken Ellis sent a message saying he was interested in finishing up the hike.  I was excited, knowing that Ken had got his second wind.  Immediately we started planning for the section we had left, Homestake Pass to the Canadian border.  Since much of this section is relatively close to Missoula, Ken had arranged various people to meet us or participate in doing some of the smaller chunks.  

The first question that came to our minds, and to others who were interested, was “what would you do differently?” on the second go.  Ken decided to ditch the bivy and tarp, going with a tent, as well as a warmer sleeping bag.  I had sometimes been jealous of Ken because he was so comfortable in his Crocs. I decided to follow suit, and the only thing I decided to change was to bring a pair of sandals to wear at camp instead of going barefoot. 

Setting up camp

In the middle of June we set out to complete the 32-mile section from Homestake Pass to Elk Park.  Thinking that running this section with some our running buddies and organizing a vehicle shuttle would make the rest of the trip easier, Ken arranged for a group of people to join us.  So on a beautiful June morning, Kevin Twidwell, Brian Fruit, Justin Grigg, Dean McGovern, Katie Gibson, Ken and I embarked on the rest of the CDT.

The Homestake to Elk Park Crew

Kevin’s parents saw us off on top of the divide.  It is so different doing something with a group of people compared to being alone for days on end.  We made good time for the first couple of miles.  Butte had had a horrible windstorm just days prior, and the trail had not yet been cleared.  We were really slowed down in the sections of blowdown.  

Slow going

Overall the day went smooth and many of us got to visit Our Lady of the Rockies for the first time, as it was only about a half mile off the trail.  We ate lunch there and enjoyed the view of Butte and the Pit.  The blowdown continued for much of the run, and on the downhill into Elk Park we ran into some mountain bikers who were using saws to clear out the trail from that end.

A few days later Ken and I started the hiking part for real.  As we drove back to Elk Park, we detoured to run the few miles that we had completed when we had called for an early ride near Feely.  Once that was out of the way, we gorged ourselves at the Hanging Five Restaurant in Butte and then started out hiking at Elk Park.  Becky Riley joined us for the first few miles.

This section was to be over 126 miles long and would conclude at either Flesher Pass north of Lincoln or, if we made good progress, just a dozen or so miles past Flesher Pass at Rogers Pass.  Since we had started in the afternoon, we had planned for resupply after five and half days.  For some reason both of our packs rode a little heavy at the start.  This section was expected to have some areas where we would have to go a number of miles without water, and we needed to fill up whenever we had a chance.  Our first opportunity was a spring coming out of the ground right in the middle of the trail.

A spring flowing from the trail

We went ten miles the first day and set up camp.  It was on a beautiful ridge with few mosquitoes.  Ken set up his tent for the first time, and I set up my bivy and tarp.  I am sure Ken wished he was back in the bivy, but he would not admit it.

Looks not deceiving. Tough trail.

The next day we had only gone about six miles before we hit crazy blowdown.  It was the worst we had encountered on the trip.  We were crawling over, under and through trees for miles.  Not only did it slow us down, but it just wore us out.  It was like doing lunges all day while carrying a weight.  Not only was the blowdown tough, but the day started to get warm.  Right as we got low on water, we were fortunate enough to hit a spring-fed cattle trough not too far off the trail.  It was excellent to be able to drink such cold water and to refill our supply.  That day we were only able to hike a little over 19 miles. Forest Boughner had stated this section was some of the easiest trail in Montana, but with all of the deadfall, it was a struggle for us.  

Crawling

That night I wished I had a tent.  We were on a ridge overlooking Deer Lodge which was beautiful, but there were a ton of mosquitoes, and it was still little warm out.  Ken was able to do without his rain fly, which allowed a breeze, but I was roasting under my tarp and in my bivy.  And, the mosquitoes were hovering right above my face.  Finally in a near panic attack, I had to jump out and cool off by running around, trying to keep the mosquitoes off me.  That night, it was so clear, it seemed like we could see a trillion stars.  

Spring fed cattle troughs make for good water... if you don't mind the company.

We ate lunch near Cottonwood Lake and tried to regroup mentally.  As we were eating, a hiker passed us, the first person we had seen hiking on the trail.  The trail started to get a little confusing as the paper maps differed from the app maps.  It seemed the app maps were correct, so we started to rely on them.  As we were figuring this out, the surrounding clouds got really dark.  We were constantly looking for a camp spot that would seem relatively safe from lightening, but we could not find one.  We continued on and once we found a spot, we had only about three minutes before it started pouring rain.  I was lucky enough to have gotten the tarp set up before it really started to rain, but Ken was a little slower and not as lucky.  We both hoped there were not bears around, as we both kept our packs in our shelters.  

The next morning we set out under cloudy skies, damp, but feeling good.  We hit more blowdown which slowed the pace, but at times we were able to be on roads where we were able to pick it up.  Right before noon the sun came out for about 15 minutes, so we tried as best we could to dry our gear.  

Shortly after, we crossed McDonald Pass.  The CDT has you hike on the highway for about a mile, which was a little distressing, but more distressing was the air was getting colder and the clouds getting darker.  We followed some cross country ski trail roads that led up to some communication towers, and then the clouds opened up with a downpour.  We continued to hike, and like much of the day, crossed more downfall, and then hiked through a swampy area.  We hit Priest Pass, and longingly looked into a pickup where a man was sleeping through the rain.  He was dry; we were soaked to the bone and getting cold.  The wind was picking up and the temperature was dropping.

We had been hearing trains for the past hour and remembered we needed to cross the Montana Rail Link line that goes into Helena.  We hiked past an old railroad trestle and then came around a corner and could see train tracks to our right.  We continued on, but then all of a sudden the tracks were on our left.  Unknowingly at the time, we had crossed over the long Blossberg Mullan train tunnel.

More deadfall between McDonald and Priest Pass

After a mile or so, we both agreed we could not continue.  We were freezing to the point where it could be dangerous.  We found some big trees for some shelter and set up camp.  Crazy enough we had excellent cell service, so I called my wife and told her we needed to be rescued if Ken agreed.  The wind and rain was so loud that I could not communicate to Ken, so I had to get out from under my tarp and run to his tent.  He was shocked to see me in the rain, but agreed that we were in rough shape.  The temperature was falling and he had no dry clothes.

It was going to be dark soon, so I called my wife back and said to come in the morning.  It was a wet night with the trees dumping bucket loads of water on top of our shelters.  The ground shook all night as the trains went through the tunnel.  We were not going to make it to Flesher Pass.

It was tough to make the decision to pull out, but we were lucky that we were close to a road.  The forecast for the next few days was low thirties, with possible snow.  With no dry clothes, that could be dangerous, so neither of us had regrets. We headed back to Missoula with plans to start at Rogers Pass. We had earlier made plans to hike across the Bob Marshall Wilderness with Steve Brown.  We would pick up the two days of Rogers Pass to Blossburg after we headed north of Rogers.

 
A Guest View of Tim’s Summer(s) on the CDT: Part 7 – The Bob
By Steve Brown

The Bob Marshall Wilderness is an irresistible force. So when I learned that my good friends Tim Mosbacher and Ken Ellis planned to traverse it last July as part of their Montana CDT quest, I checked their dates, cleared my calendar and not-so-subtly asked if I could be the third wheel for a few days. They politely agreed. Here’s my glimpse into what Tim and Ken do all day when they’re out there, why their trek is so remarkable, and what we saw. So pull out your Bob maps and follow along.

Originally I planned to join them at Benchmark around July 4th and accompany them north into Glacier. But Glacier’s east side remained closed, so it wasn’t possible to follow the CDT past Marias Pass. Then some horribly inclement weather the week before blew Tim and Ken off the trail just north of Helena. They did some quick revisions and decided I could join them from Rogers Pass to Marias Pass, then they’d come back later and pick up the gap. This led to an unanticipated bonus to camp in Lincoln July 3rd, the night before we started. Let’s just say that Lincoln’s Independence Day crowd is slightly different from Missoula’s and leave it at that. 

We left Lincoln early Saturday morning and proceeded to Rogers Pass accompanied by seven trail-running escorts. Rogers Pass crosses the Continental Divide not far from the spot of the lowest recorded temperature ever in the lower 48, but July 4 was clear and cool. Perfect hiking weather. 

Like many, I’ve driven over Rogers Pass dozens of times and sort of vaguely wondered where the stairs on the north side of the highway lead. I now know they lead to an amazing ridgetop trail that follows the crest of the divide north for miles, up many small mountains and down to lower obscure passes - Cadotte Pass, Lewis & Clark Pass and numerous unnamed others. The crew from Missoula accompanied us for the first 10 miles, and the banter was typically light hearted. Despite it being a perfect July holiday, we saw hardly anyone else — one couple, and one southbound CDT through-hiker named Sloppy Joe.

Our escorts turned back after about three hours. It was sort of sad to see them go. The terrain quickly became even more rugged, most of it well over 7000 feet in elevation, treeless and dry. To our left, the southwest slope dropped precipitously into Alice Creek and other Blackfoot River tributaries. To our right, north-facing cliffs fell into trailless tributary drainages of the Dearborn. The divide itself was a carpet of wildflowers, with plenty signs of grizzlies digging for roots, but no actual sightings. We intercepted Missoula trail runner Tom Allard coming from somewhere up north, still with miles to go to his Rogers Pass destination. Late in the afternoon, short on water, we dropped into a buggy cirque below Caribou Peak. From there, we climbed back up to another gorgeous bowl high above Bighorn Lake. The wind started to blow super hard. We made a rocky descent to another pass, and I fell and broke one of my poles. I needed the poles to support my tent, and we hadn’t even camped a night yet, with seven nights ahead. (Duct tape and a tent stake split fixed it nicely.) But finally we found a relatively calm spot with live water and fire-scarred trees and quit for the first day.

The morning of the second day I quickly realized Tim and Ken follow a carefully-honed routine. Sometime after 5 a.m. the sky lightens and business starts. No hot breakfast. No coffee. Just pack up, choke down some kind of bar and be off before 6. Coffee (at least for me and Ken – Tim just dreamed of Mountain Dew) comes sometime late morning. Pretty much each of the next six days repeated this rhythm. Ken and Tim are very efficient, and it works.

Our Sunday route climbed back up to the divide briefly with long views toward Scapegoat Mountain, bathed in golden morning light. Ken spotted elk on a high ridge peering down at us. We soon dropped more than 2000 feet down a beautiful trail to the Dearborn River. The Dearborn was swift and we carefully forded it. It was the first of many fords. We turned west and followed the trail upstream. By lunch we made it to Welcome Creek. We’d run through this area in 2011 and remembered a piped spring. The pipe still flowed cold, fresh and clean nine years later.   

The afternoon took us up and over Straight Creek Pass. The pass is pretty, with rushing water on both sides but rocky and hot. Late in the afternoon we reached a fork in the trail and a decision point. Left was the “official” CDT trail as marked on the map. It required a deep ford of Straight Creek, then an ascent of Elbow Pass followed by a descent into the South Fork of the Sun drainage leading north to Benchmark. Straight continued down Straight Creek. It’s a CDT “alternate” that led straight into Benchmark--no ford or pass required. The choice seemed simple to me, but I still felt like a guest. Thankfully Tim and Ken have clear minds, so straight it was.  It turns out that there may be an “official” CDT route, but there are many alternates along the way, some large and some small, but none of which subtract from the legitimacy of the whole. (Except maybe the Anaconda Cutoff — I really don’t get that one.)  I was happy because I’d been over the Elbow Pass route twice, but never down Straight Creek, and it allowed me to color in another trail on my master Bob map. We marched a few more miles and camped at a vaguely flat spot below swaying burned snags, hoping they didn’t blow over and squash us at night.   

Monday, we woke unsquashed and started the day with an easy five-mile stroll into Benchmark. Not surprisingly, we quickly passed several spots that would have been much more pleasant camps, but it didn’t matter. We exited the wilderness briefly and walked a road for a mile or so from one trailhead to another.  Benchmark has been the start or finish to several RATBOBs, so it seemed a bit like coming home. All that was missing was a cooler full of cold drinks and the circle of friends.

From Benchmark we followed the popular and familiar trail leading to the Chinese Wall. It’s a beautiful trail up the West Fork of the South Fork of the Sun. The trail is mostly open and the view of the winding river and the red mountains is spectacular. Plenty of water (and repeated wet feet, despite the occasional bridge), a great lunch spot at the Indian Meadows backcountry cabin, and a late afternoon rugged climb up to the alpine zone  where we found a gorgeous camp site surrounded by glacier lilies. Another 25-mile day and it really felt like we were deep in the Bob because we were.

Tuesday started with the Chinese Wall. The Chinese Wall is beyond superlatives. We’ve run to other walls in the Bob – the one below Scapegoat and the North Wall, both of which are incredibly dramatic.  But the Chinese Wall is in a different league. The 1000-foot shear vertical and miles-long horizontal scale of it are impossible to adequately describe. Its remoteness only adds to the mystique. Some say the eight miles from Salt Mountain to Larch Hill are the finest alpine segment in Montana, and it’s hard to argue. If it were in Glacier on a July day, it would be overrun with tourists, but on this July day we had it all to ourselves.

The north end of the Wall trail got snowy and muddy and stayed that way for a long while. After passing My Lake, we began dropping in elevation down to Spotted Bear Pass. There we crossed back to the west side of the divide, and it greeted us with rain and blowdown. It’s a long ten miles down the Spotted Bear River in a big U-shaped west side valley. The trees are tall and the river fords deep. We’d see no more bridges this trip. We camped near the Pentagon Cabin, having finished the day with a cold ford of Pentagon Creek. Ken built the only fire of the week, and life seemed pretty civilized until it started to rain again. 

Wednesday, day 5, was my favorite because it took us to terrain I’d never seen, and it felt like we’d reached the wild heart of the Bob. We started the day with dry shoes and socks, but it didn’t last long. After about two miles we again forded swift, icy cold Pentagon Creek and started a squishy ascent of Switchback Pass. Switchback Pass earns its name. Ken started tallying the switchbacks but soon lost count when he quickly ran out of fingers. But the more we climbed, the more scenic it became. We looked back south into the long Spotted Bear valley we’d descended the previous day. West were the distant Swans. Pentagon Mountain loomed over us to the north. Near the top it got cold and windy, but it still was nice to be up high again.

Switchback Pass sits on the side of a mountain that forms a triple divide between tributaries of the Middle and South Forks of the Flathead, and the North Fork of the Sun - all big rivers that drain significant portions of the Bob. Our digital maps also told us Switchback Pass might have the first cell signal in five days. Ken and I hunkered under a tree while Tim investigated. No luck. So we crossed the pass and moved north on a high shelf, still full of snow. We soon passed Dean Lake, framed by fields of glacier lilies and the hulking mountains behind it. We proceeded north, paralleling the east side of the remote Trilobite Range. This stretch was truly amazing, almost as pretty as the Wall section, but so much wilder. 

We ate lunch by a cold stream, then descended another switchbacky trail into the Clack Creek valley. The trail was beautiful, fairly newly reconstructed and passing very close to an enormous noisy waterfall. Once we reached the valley floor, it was easy hiking for several miles until we reached the Middle Fork of the Flathead, which would be our biggest river crossing yet.

Some southbound hikers told us it was possible to cross the Middle Fork on fallen logs. That was sort of true. We found the logs, but they still had most of their thick branches, so the crossing required some old man gymnastics. As generally was the case, Ken pretty much skipped across. Tim also crossed elegantly. I nervously struggled not to fall in. The river was braided and required a second crossing, but it was much easier. The second crossing took us right to Gooseberry, where we joined the well-trodden Big River Trail. Gooseberry also felt super remote, and it was because it’s 20 miles or more in any direction to any road.

From Gooseberry we followed the Middle Fork upstream to its source at the confluence of Strawberry Creek and Bowl Creek. There we rejoined the “official” CDT again, having last left it at Spotted Bear Pass. We turned north into the wide Strawberry Creek valley, following it upstream in and out of burned areas. 

Somewhere in here the chicken-fried steak talk started. I’ve never actually ordered a chicken-fried steak and couldn’t quite tell from Ken and Tim’s descriptions whether to be intrigued or mortified. I think it was a little of both, but the banter about this delicacy continued periodically for three days. Wednesday finished by a Strawberry Creek tributary out of the burn, but full of mosquitos.

Thursday, day 6, was another day of wet feet. We forded the creek right at our campsite and each time our shoes dried out, we’d ford another.  The trail climbed to Badger Pass and the east side of the divide. The Strawberry Creek drainage burned in 2015 and 2017 and still is quite charred. The pass isn’t super dramatic, but the trail stays up high, crossing back and forth across the divide three times in three miles. The last crossing was at Muskrat Pass in an extensive bog. Even though we were dropping into the east side again, the trail was a watery mess for the first few miles. Finally it climbed up the north slope, giving long views of the ridge that makes up the divide. Somewhere along here we passed two through-hikers heading south. The male half of the couple carried a very large pistol. They complained about the mosquitos and blowdown and didn’t seem to be from Montana. But they were well armed.

We finished Thursday near the Badger guard cabin. We now were out of the Bob and in the Badger-Two Medicine, which is a wild triangle of national forest surrounded by the Bob, the Blackfeet Reservation, and Glacier Park. It was so gorgeous traipsing up and through the meadows in the upper tributaries of Birch Creek and Badger Creek. At the Badger cabin we met a family of six from Florida on their way to tackle the whole CDT in one summer. Pretty impressive family adventure. We camped in a meadow near the cabin, feeling pretty content with just one partial day to go.

Friday, day 7, dawned gunmetal gray. Sometime overnight it started raining again, and this rain didn’t stop. We borrowed the Badger cabin covered porch to pack up and began the last day’s slog. It was less than 20 miles to Marias Pass, and the cold rain didn’t dampen the smell of the barn and the prospect of chicken-fried steak. Our route took us up and over a low pass that divides the headwaters of North Badger Creek from those of the South Fork of the Two Medicine. The rain made the trail muddy and slippery. 

After a few miles we reached another decision fork. The official CDT climbs out of the river valley and up onto the flank of Elkcalf Mountain, traversing it for several miles. Several southbound hikers we’d met warned us of bad blowdown, and we were leery. The alternate was a trail along the South Fork of the Two Medicine, which supposedly included several bypass trails to avoid deep fords. We opted for the Two Medicine Trail.

I’m still not sure we made the right decision here, although we did live through it. My maps weren’t detailed enough to show the number of times we’d have to ford the river. The high water bypass trails were pure fiction and blocked by extensive blowdown. So we were committed to fording and re-fording. Each ford was downstream from the previous, and the river was accumulating water from tributaries and rain. Some fords were in fast water with slippery rocks. When the trail wasn’t in the river, it was in the willows along the river. The mud on the trail had very fresh grizzly tracks, and I was pretty convinced we’d run into one any time. But I really wasn’t that worried because I hiked between Tim and Ken and figured the bear would find one of them more attractive. 

We never did see the actual bear that made the tracks. We forded the river at least nine times that morning. It was cold, but we made them all successfully. After the last ford we turned west for the final ascent to Marias Pass. We arrived at the pass sometime around noon. In a way it was sort of anticlimactic to be back in civilization, sitting under the big obelisk trying to get a cell signal to summon a ride out. Tim did finally get ahold of his wife Becky and she promised to be there first thing the next morning.

We spent the rest of the day in the Forest Service campground at the top of the pass waiting for the Summit Steakhouse to open. Our neighbors were two wide-eyed kids from Brooklyn, out to see America on their stimulus checks. Noisy trains rumbled through several times each hour. Finally the restaurant opened, and even though it was pretty fancy and I’m sure we looked and smelled horrible, the food was great (despite the lack of the fabled chicken-fried steak). The next morning Becky picked us up and drove us back to Lincoln so Ken and Tim could continue their adventure.

Ken and Tim are awesome hiking companions. They are savvy, indefatigable and always in good humor. The stretch we covered together is magical and I feel pretty fortunate they let me be part of it. It also left me for a new appreciation of how much dedication it really takes to through-hike the CDT, especially the Montana section.

Running Missoula’s Wildflower Wave by Erin Clark

Spring is about building your base, celebrating running in shorts again, getting back into terrain that was inaccessible during winter, and wildflowers! My May runs are often fueled by ‘hunts’ for the next flower species that is due to appear. It’s one of the many running delights of Missoula – the fact that our trails provide us access to a wide variety of elevations, aspects, and forest types where there is a whole crescendo of blooming plants this time of year.

Like anything related to the seasons, there’s some variation from year-to-year, but here are some hopefully reliable suggestions for getting out this month to see some of the best of our local blooms.

First week of May

By this time you can see some of the earliest arrowleaf balsamroot blooms (the showy yellow sunflowers) in the North Hills as you drive by on I-90. Make sure get out for a rambling run this week in these North Hill trails. If you start from the Orange Street trailhead you can enjoy the balsamroot and then up near the top of Waterworks Hill you’ll find our unique Missoula phlox (low cushions of pink and white flowers), shooting stars (purple flares), woodland stars (small white flowers with petals grouped in twos), and more. Also, these trails are sure to be completely snow free and not muddy by this time, in almost any year.

North Hills Balsamroot

Second week of May

Although it’s not a bright sunny hillside, like where you ran last week, the Woods Gulch trail is worth a visit around the middle of the month. Here you’ll experience plants and flowers that thrive in a moist, shady environment, such as trillium (leaves and petals in threes), glacier lilies (yellow flowers on a thin stem with two glossy leaves), and the delicate white flowers of clasping-leaved twisted stem (this plant resembles its name). Trilliums are fascinating. When the flowers are young they will be white in color, and as they age they will become shades of pink and maroon. Flowering trilliums are also often many decades old. I recommend this excellent video from a local researcher, Tarn Ream, if you’d like to learn more about trillium.

Trillium

Glacier Lilies

Third week of May

Remember that taste of arrowleaf balsamroot you got the first week? That was merely an appetizer. By now Jumbo Saddle is a veritable yellow carpet of balsamroot. Head up there and aim for the Sound of Music trail. This is an outstanding place to experience ‘the trifecta’ of arrowleaf balsamroot, lupine (purple cones), and paintbrush (orange to red to pinkish). On the north facing side of Sound of Music, where the forest is denser, you can find glacier lilies, heart leaved arnica (like balsamroot but only one flower per plant, plus those heart-shaped leaves), and the occasional stem of pasque flower (furry purple flowers with yellow centers).  Continue through the four-way junction where Sound of Music ends and about a half-mile later take a left onto Sidewinder, dropping back towards the front side of the saddle through more trifecta glory.

Lupine

Fourth week of May

We have a few species of orchids in our area. These plants are more like needles in a haystack then the ones you’ve looked for so far this month, but by this point you’re getting pretty attuned to paying more attention to more than where you’re placing your feet on each run. Right? Head to the Sam Braxton trail system to find the bright pink with maroon spotted cups of the fairy slipper orchid. You’ll find these orchids hiding in the darker, moister corners of these trails.

 

Fairy Slipper Orchid

You’ll have to wait until mid-June to seek out our other orchid species, the lady’s slipper. The lady’s slipper has curled maroon petals and a pendulous white cup. Look for it in a few pockets along the Ewok trail in the Rattlesnake and run the road from the main trailhead to Sawmill Gulch to see dense clusters!

 The end of the month is also a great time to travel down the Bitterroot for a run at Lake Como just north of Darby. Even without wildflowers, the eight-mile loop trail around the lake is delightful for its lake, mountain, and waterfall views. The trifecta will be in good form here too, along with trillium, shooting stars, and blue camas (showy blue flowers with yellow stamens). It’s fun to observe how different the plants are on the north side of the lake (where it’s drier and there is more sun exposure) versus the south side (shaded and damp).

Camas

The wildflower show doesn’t end in May, it continues significantly into June and July. If you gradually shift your runs up in elevation over these months you can follow the green up and wildflower wave.

Have fun out there hunting for flowers on your runs this month! You can post any significant finds in the comments to share with others and we'd be happy to post them on the Montana Trail Crew Instagram account @montanatrailcrew

An avid trail runner and Run Wild Missoula Board member, Erin Clark works as Senior Field Director with the Montana Wilderness Association. 

Pengelly Double Dip Top Ten

1. Run through the puddles and make big splashes
2. Run through the mud and get cool mud splatters on your legs
3. Wear traction devices when things are icy/snowy
4. If it’s really muddy, head somewhere else

Blue Mountain 30K - Credit: Vo von Sehlen/Votography Images/Runner's Edge

Blue Mountain 30K All-time Top Ten

Running for autumn color: enjoying larch on Missoula’s trails

By Erin Clark, Run Wild Missoula Board Member

I’ve heard many fellow runners recently remark how the change in temperatures and season are significantly inspiring their recent running. I agree, and there’s a certain portion of this season I wait for with great anticipation – the time when our larch turns from just another green tree to lacy, yellow candles. In the next few weeks our hillsides will become bicolored autumn shows and the trails below these larch will temporarily be yellow needle carpeted tunnels. It’s special and I hope this post helps you to get out and make the most of this year’s larch show, which should be good the last two weeks of the month and perhaps into the first week or two of November. 

Here are a handful of local trails where western larch are plentiful:

Short runs

Lower Fenceline in the Rattlesnake, Sawmill Gulch trailhead

This is a short run, less than three miles, but it can certainly be connected with more of the Rattlesnake trail system. I recommend running this trail on a rainy day or just following a rainy day, as there will be fewer bikers out enjoying this trail during those times. 

Sam Braxton, Pattee Canyon trailhead

A few years ago the forest around this trail was thinned, which allowed the young larch along the trail to thrive. There are now lovely clusters of just over head high larch periodically along this route and you shouldn’t resist the temptation – reach out your hand and run it along one of the branches and the soft yellow needles as you pass by. There are also mature larch above you mixed in with the ponderosa pine. 

Holland Falls trail, Seeley-Swan Valley

If you have time to get out of town, but aren’t looking for a long run this trail is gorgeous this time of year. There are long views across and along the lake, craggy mountains above, and the larch reflect in long, squiggly lines across the lake. The trail is a three-mile out and back route. You’ll want to bring your phone in order to snap photos. And, on your way back to Missoula, be sure to take a detour along Boy Scout Road on Seeley Lake to stop and see Gus, the largest western larch in North America. 

Middle distance runs 

Wallman in the Rattlesnake, main Rattlesnake trailhead

This is a lovely six-mile loop from the main trailhead. You’ll get to enjoy color in the aspens and cottonwoods along the creek on your way our, as well as larch both near and far as you climb up the back side of the Wallman trail from Spring Creek. 

Woods Gulch to Three Larches loop, Woods Gulch trailhead

You’ll enjoy many more than three larches along this loop, I promise. This is a six-mile loop with a moderate amount of elevation gain, but hopefully you’ll be adequately distracted by views of larch across the valley on your way up and then enjoying the larch above you as you descend down the three larches trail, which features tremendously fun ups and downs that are worth a visit any time of the year. 

Long runs

High, Wide, and Handsome, Sousa or Barmeyer trailheads

If you’re looking for a double digit run with a good amount of climbing check out the newest trail in Missoula’s inventory, High, Wide, and Handsome on Mount Dean Stone, which also features ample larch. I think this is quickly going to become known as one of the most spectacular larch viewing trails in town. 

Bitterroot Canyons, take your pick!

The larch in and around Missoula are western larch. The larch up high on the canyon walls in the Bitterroot are subalpine larch. Subalpine larch turns yellow and loses its needles nearly a month earlier. So, don’t delay if you want to see them. Pretty much any Bitterroot Canyon you run will have subalpine larch high up on the canyon walls once you get a decent way into the canyon. And if you go all of the way to the end of many of the canyons you’ll actually be among the larch. Subalpine larch are shorter and often grow in unique forms, unlike the western larch that are classically tall and triangular. Subalpine larch have significant character. Hope you get to meet some of them in the Bitterroot, just go soon!