So we headed into the Bob Marshall for our first wilderness trip of the season. The plan was hopefully to find and clear a few trees from a somewhat obscure trail that goes up and over a hump in the Sawtooth Range. It’s pretty on the crest of the hump, but last year going up the one side it was pretty gnarly with plenty of downed trees. The area burned a few years back and like most areas that have burned, not only are the trees down, but the lodgepole are coming up thick under them, making things even worse.

So I packed the “Big Boy” hand saw and we had enough food for three days. The dog carried her own food and water in a dog backpack that works surprisingly well, at least on a 90 pound mutt.

We made the hike in and the Swift Reservoir was full enough that we had to use the high water trail. We ran into a horse party coming out and they said we should be able to cross the creek and they were right. I picked us out a good route that made the crossing a knee deep easy affair instead of a thigh deep crossing around some nasty submerged rocks.

The dog chased every ground squirrel that squeaked at her. I bet she ran triple the miles we hiked.

Once at the junction of the drainage we made a base camp and then headed up a branch of the creek. We cut out about a mile and half of trail, maybe 20 trees, and then called it a day.

That night the skies were moonless and the Milky Way was awash with stars in the south.

Glacier Park is a dark skies park, but it has nothing on the Bob Marshall.

The next morning we headed back up the drainage and started clearing trail where we left off. That is until we hit the old burned woods. There the impossibility of our task became self evident. Trees were down everywhere and the farther we went the worse it got.

We gave up trying to clear the trail at all. The “Big Boy” and my scrawny arms had met their match. I could have spent a few years back there. 

We came to the junction of the trail that goes over the hump (we didn’t have GPS) and we simply couldn’t find it. Trees were down everywhere and any hint of the trail we hiked last year was under them. I looked for a good half hour, but gave up. We headed back to camp and with the stream running high, fishing it the way we wanted to was going to prove tough so we bagged camp after a short siesta and headed out.

The dog wasn’t nearly as interested in ground squirrels on the way out as she was on the way in, but she still gave a few the chase.

Overall it was still a nice walk, save for the half mile or so of downed trees. There was no one back there outside of some outfitters that went through, probably headed to Big Rivers Meadows on the main drag.

Our lost route may not see a trail crew for a very long time. With Forest Service budgets cuts, off-shoot trails in the Bob will become casualties, I suppose.

It is wilderness after all and eventually, with any luck, everything we do once we’re gone will go back to the Earth, which is the way it’s supposed to be. 

The Milky Way in the Bob Marshall.

    A female yellow warbler along the trail.