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BullMountain to the
Boulder River, days 20 - 25
through the
Whitetail-Haystack-O'Neill roadless area
Day 20
After the beautiful moonlight walk to the Jefferson
River, I camp in a Montana State Fishing Access Site. Really
just a parking lot in a swamp. But Luna makes it easy to set
up the tent to hide behind a mesh barrier from the
mosquitoes. It is well past midnight when I arrive, so it is
a shock when two rigs pull in early - a construction company
filling a huge tanker truck from the river. Kind of shatters
the atmosphere for sleeping in. I eat a few handfuls of
crunchies and start walking. On roads. Imagine that!
I pass farms and ranches as well as a good number of
country homes as I head to the interstate highway. I stop at
the Cardwell Store, Casino, and Campground to wait for my
resupply. I buy a beer at the casino and sit outside in the
campground to wait. It is hot in the river bottom today. I
contemplate the issue of the farms and ranches subdividing
off land for rural residential development. In this area,
the migration corridor for wildlife is up against enough of
a barrier in the interstate. The large predators and
ungulates may have an extremely hard time here with the
addition of many homes dispersed throughout the landscape,
complete with dogs, many fences, light, noise, and lots of
activity. The area is wonderful; who wouldn't want to live
there. But what are our long-term costs to the "nature" we
move there to be around?
Chaucer and Beth arrive and reload me with food. For a
"people" animal, the afternoon is tricky. I have a narrow
route of state-owned land to follow past the Golden Sunlight
mine, a huge gold mine that is eating up a mountain for our
personal adornment. (for more info on that issue, contact
the Montana Environmental Information Center or the Mineral
Policy Center.) To walk so close to this huge mine for many
hours makes me realize its scope and intensity. Finally I
turn north and head for Conrow Creek. What a relief. A pair
of jittery antelope, blooming cacti, and a fresh, clear
stream refresh me before I head up the canyon. I smell the
change in the air and make camp just in time to beat an
evening gulleywasher. It is nice to see the tracks of elk,
deer, and antelope instead of Fords, Chevys, and Dodges.
Day 21
The grass is so thick on the trail that it is like
walking through a foot of snow. Other trails through the
grass lets me know others have been here. I smile to myself
to know it is not people, and no sign of cows ... yet. I
lose the trail once and as I am scrambling through the brush
I startle a mule deer from her day bed. Sorry. At a high
spring I encounter bear scat; I am not the only one who
thinks it is a good place for lunch and a drink. It is nice
to just pop the water bottle into a little gusher coming out
of the rocks. This is what water is supposed to be. From
here it is a steep climb up to the main stem of the Bull
Mountain ridge. I pass the most prolific patch of Bitterroot
flowers I have ever seen. When I break into the open parks
at the top of the ridge, it is a wonderful view. But not for
pictures - big, thick, black clouds obscure the views south
back over the Jefferson River valley and the Tobacco Roots.
To the north, the ridge continues to climb with great,
open parks winding around the higher points and treed
canyons. When I hit the open, I also hit the jeep trails
again. The map show many, but most are closed to the public.
The land is checkerboard - every other section public land,
the rest private. The grazing association that owns the
private land, in cooperation with Montana Fish, Wildlife and
Parks, and the Forest Service has closed most of the roads
to motorized use. Good. Good for wildlife. But fences and
cows. Lots of cows. I think I will walk with the cows a
while. I stop in a low spot to let the thunderstorm that has
found me pass before I climb over Wilson Ridge. In the park
below I see a pair of bucks, one a tawny color and the other
gray. When the lightning has passed, I continue on,
following very fresh coyote tracks in the road. I am getting
a case of tired feet, but I want to get over this next bump
before I camp. Some water would be in order. It is a welcome
surprise that when I cross the next fence, there are no
cows. I wander around a little and find a nice spring down
the east side of the ridge and dub it Now Park. It is a
pretty little meadow with great views down over the Boulder
River and on over several mountain ranges. I can see the
Crazy Mountains.
Grazing public lands in the mountains is a hot issue.
What are the impacts on wildlife? And water? I can't help
think here on Bull Mountain it may be a benefit overall. The
roads are very restricted. I see lots of wildlife and sign,
and as long as grazing continues to be lucrative, the
private land on this big, long mountain will remain
undeveloped, especially if conservation easements are put
into place.
Day 22
Before I even make the ridge I startle a nice herd of
elk, maybe 75 or more. Better than the oatmeal and cocoa I
had for breakfast. I realized last night that I have to
rush. Business calls. I am supposed to meet Paul in the
morning, not the evening, a couple days from now. The road
swings back down off the ridge top in a mile or two, and the
rest of the mountain is a bushwhack through timber as all
these beautiful, open parks end also. The wind is blowing
hard today. When I break out onto the highest point on Bull
Mountain, it is hard to stand on the jumble of rocks. It is
difficult to even hold the binoculars still to look over my
route as it heads west into the Whitetail/Haystack/O'Neill
roadless area. Below me I see a subdivision development that
is a ways up Little Whitetail Creek from the town of
Whitehall. Here is our issue again hitting us in the face.
It is a beautiful place, but just how long, how far can we
develop private land before we have made the islands of high
mountains biologically unviable for wildlife in the long
term? We must all think about that when we make our choices
about a place to live.
I still have a few miles of bushwhacking to go. So on I
plod. A photocopy of a 50's era map I have shows an old
lookout used to sit on the last high knob on Bull Mountain,
but it is gone. In the saddle to the east I find number 9
telephone wire on the ground, proof enough that it was
there, but I pass on the climb, as I have a mile and a half
of north slope bushwhack to get to the east-west trail I am
shooting for. I take a compass bearing, check the time, and
align myself to my shadow in preparation for the next hour
or so. Everything is in order and I'm off. I haven't even
gone a 100 yards when I cross a good trail, well graded with
a nice tread. It is not on the old map; it is not on the new
map. But it beats bushwhacking and generally seems to be
going my way, so I follow it like a well trained puppy. I
call it Scapula Trail, as I soon step over an old, bleached
bone of that previous use to someone. I am amazed by the
condition of this trail, which is easy to follow and after a
while I even pass some very old Forest Service blazes. It
takes me out to the west and I finally lose it as I hit the
open shoulders heading down into Little Whitetail Creek.
After I hit the timber early in the day I saw little
wildlife sign except by a spring where I see a few elk
tracks. The critters must stick to the more open high
country I have passed through. I cross a couple miles of low
pastureland, the last ranch (where two kids are racing up
and down, up again and back down the road on ORV's. ), and
head on up State Creek road to set a nice camp in big old
doug firs just at the edge of the public land.
Day 23
Patented mining claims are my issue today. Several to go
through and past. The road ends at the State Creek Mine (and
garbage dump!) where the Forest Service trail begins. But at
the end of the road I meet approximately seven "PRIVATE
PROPERTY" and "NO TRESPASSING" signs and enough orange paint
to fill a shelf at Sherwin Williams. (In Montana, orange
paint is a legal marking for private property that is not
open to the public.) And garbage. Garbage everywhere. A
class-act mess. But no trail access markings. Plan B - back
to the Forest Service road end facility to take a second
trail that takes a more northerly route. Well, the private
inholders, the patented mine, has also obliterated or
blocked off this trail. I have to bushwhack to find the
trail beyond their land even though both trails are legal
public access. Once on this trail, which is actually an old
4 wheel drive road, it is a nice hike, up past another
patented mine (this one clean with the trail very well
marked) and a very steep downgrade into the Little Boulder
River. Up the river to a meadow camp in No-see-um-ville.
Day 24
Moments after the sun hit my tent I groggily remember the
ambiance: I was brought to consciousness by elk snorting
above me. That was what I had gone to sleep by when my tired
head hit the wad of clothes I call a pillow. Peering out the
bug net, trying to focus, I make out a pair of elk at the
edge of the trees practically glowing in the early light. I
ever so slowly dress, boot up and exit the cocoon. They are
still there. I quietly rummage the pack for the camera and
look to check on them. They must have moved behind the
trees. As I stand and take a step -Crash! I wheel around
just to see them run through the creek and disappear into
the fir. I'm up and camera-ed, so I'll do a little hunting.
Up the slope I go, cut a well used game trail, and follow it
up the draw, past a spring with lots of trampled grass, and
head back out on the slope on the other side. I hear
something. Stealth. I worm my way through the timber and ...
Cows. Oh, well, time for oatmeal. I spend the day hiking
into the Whitetail/Haystack/ O'Neill area with Paul and
Charlotte, my resupply team. A nice day in rolling, wooded
country. On the way out, moose a couple times; I've not seen
any since the Madison Range.
The Whitetail/Haystack/ O'Neill roadless area is unique
as roadless area go. It is an extremely large "hydrologic
sponge" of fragile wetlands that recharge many underground
aquifers including the water supply for the town of
Whitehall. The area is targeted by the Forest Service for
increased off road vehicle (ORV) use. Severe ORV damage has
already occurred in the wet meadows around Whitetail
Reservoir and Delmoe Lake.
Day 25
Another day of access problems and impossible trails,
thanks to the Deer Lodge National Forest and private land
inholders. Frustrating. Very frustrating. No way in Hades
can the average recreational user follow the trails shown on
the newest F.S. map. I would bet big that neither the Forest
Service District Ranger nor his boss could follow them.
Again, private landowners have obliterated and obstructed
legal public access across their land in many places. But I
persevere as the creeks and meadows and mountains are quite
nice and I am seeing lots of wildlife sign. Then it is the
logging obliterating the trail. So I am stuck with roads
going who knows where. I cross a creek and decide to follow
it - I'm tired of roads - and I startle an elk out of her
day bed so close I get her flies when she runs. I hear
another critter shortly thereafter running off and soon see
a muley doe. Finally, down low, I cross the main creek and
hit the Forest Service trail and a million and one cows,
maybe more. When I get to the trailhead, it is a nice setup,
with good signs telling you all the places the trail goes
and how far. I camp. It has been a very long day. Later I
talk with the people who have the last house on the road and
they also tell me that in years living there, they, and many
of their friends, never fail to lose the trails and never
have found Berry's Meadows (one of the access messes).
Reminds me of an old saying: "I've been to seven World
Fairs, seen three windmill greasings, and watched a pair of
buzzards f-----g, but I ain't never seen nothing like this!"
The Deer Lodge National Forest.
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