As we headed up yet another of the endless hill climbs in Saturday’s Spartan Race south of Bigfork, I was happy to be one of the local participants.

Many steep hikes in the mountains of Northwest Montana in summers past had me mentally prepared for the elevation gains and losses and the terrain of the course — the rough trails, the rocky spots, the slippery footing on the steep descents.

What probably wasn’t so familiar to Montanans, or anyone who’s never done a Spartan race, was wading up to your hips through disgusting black pools that were more mud than water. Crawling under a very long stretch of low-strung barbed wire. Climbing to the top of a spider web of rope that seemed unreasonably high to someone like me, who’s a little freaked out by heights. Dragging a block of concrete down and then back up a dirt path for no reason except that it’s part of the challenge.

But hopefully the locals and the visitors alike were energized by the high points of the course, which provided great views of Flathead Lake and glimpses of surrounding mountain ranges.

I also hope that most of their general race experiences were similar to mine. I appreciated the easy registration process, the help and encouragement from plenty of volunteers, and the clear marking of important places such as the starting line and the course route. (My youngest son did get a little confused as part of a wayward pack, but I never even came close to losing my way.)

Finishing was difficult, but it seemed more a test of will and patience than perfect pre-Spartan training. If you couldn’t complete an obstacle, there was always the option of 30 burpees. There was no shame in walking, which was almost a necessity on the tough uphill stretches.

Some of the more-competitive athletes might have been a little frustrated with waiting their turns at some of the more-crowded obstacles, but for people just out to finish in a respectable time, a little standing around offered a good chance for a rest.

The tone on the trail was generally jovial and supportive. Racers were willing to help complete strangers through obstacles such as the higher walls.

And the atmosphere of the festival area was genuinely festive, with mud-covered competitors crossing the finish line, telling their trail stories and congratulating each other on their Spartan accomplishments.

I have no idea how the Spartan organizers ended up viewing this particular race at the end of what must have been a long and stressful day, or if the local people who worked so hard to bring the event to the Flathead Valley were happy with the results, but as one lone plodder among the thousands privileged enough to carry a sandbag up a very steep incline and back down again, I felt the first Montana Spartan Race was quite the success.