Splitboarding Chestnut Mountain

Absaroka Mountain Range as viewed from the East side of Chestnut Mountain

Gallatin National Forest, Montana, USA

View all the trip photos or the GPS track.

Snowbiking Chestnut Mountain Trail

Quality Bicycle Products supplied my favorite local shop, Bangtail Bikes with a couple demo snowbikes recently.  Mike and I have taken them out on three separate occasions and put roughly fifteen miles on them. 

The first rig is a Surly Pugsley:

The second rig is the newly released Salsa Mukluk: 

Both rides are equipped with Surly tires.  These tires are inflated to an amazingly low six p.s.i. of pressure and are sized at 3.8 in. (9.65 cm) wide.  The flotation from these things is spectacular for riding on snow or sand. 

It's no doubt that a number of the readers of this blog are familiar with the Pugsley snowbike; probably having heard either directly or offhandedly in their use along "The Lost Coast", Iditabike, or the Arrowhead 135.  The Salsa Mukluk frameset is new and doesn't yet have the same badass reputation as the Pugsley.  Cyclists are stoked about it however because it differs from the Pugsley in that the wheels aren't offset from center making for a slightly smoother turning action.  Personally I don't mind the offset because most of the usage of these bikes are at relatively slow speeds on highly-diverse terrain not making the offset as noticeable as it would be at speed on asphalt. 

I first rode a Pugsley in 2009 while visiting family in Minnesota.  My brother and I took them out for a trail ride in the popular mountain biking destination, Theodore Wirth Park in Minneapolis.  The riding on a packed snow trail is excellent and rivals summertime singletrack riding.  That evening after the trail riding we sessioned the bikes for a couple hours jibbing on snowbanks for a few hours. 

This past weekend Mike and I took the Pugsley and Mukluk to the Chestnut Mountain trailhead near Bozeman and were able to ride them about 1.5 miles up the trail before the amount of foot traffic had lessened enough to not provide an adequate riding surface.  Riding back down the 1.5 miles was exhilarating.  There's little scarier than having both front and rear disc brakes locked up as you and your bike slide left and right along a steep switchback section of trail.

View an interactive map of our route on Chestnut Mountain at Everytrail.com.

Splitboarding - One Day Gearlist

Clothing

• Gloves - spring touring  
• Gloves - shell mits  
• Hat - merino wool  
• Hat - visor (condition dependent) 
• Jacket - shell  
• Jacket - puffy  
• Pants - shell / softshell (weather dependent)  
• Goggles
• Helmet - condition dependent  
• Shirt - baselayer 
• Boots - soft snowboard boots  
• Socks - knee high  
• Underwear - merino or polypro  
• Sunglasses - shaded and clear lenses  
• Tights - merino or polypro  

Snowboard Gear

• Snowboard - splitboard  
• Binders - splitboard-specific  
• Crampons - splitboard-specific  
• Skins - splitboard-specific  
• Poles - collapsible carbon fiber  
• Straps - condition dependent  
• Pin - extra binder pin  

First Aid and Repair

• First Aid - wound care kit  
• First Aid - splint  
• First Aid - ace bandage  
• Compass - adjustable declination  
• Documents - I.D. / cash / credit  
• Knife - small, light  
• Info - maps and guidebook pages  
• Whistle - on neck lanyard  
• Tool - snowboard/binder repair tools  

Electronics

• Camera - digital camera (possibly use phone)  
• Light - headlamp  
• Watch - altimeter enabled watch  

Avalanche Gear

• Avalung  
• Backpack - size is trip-length dependent  
• Shovel - metal avalanche shovel  
• Beacon - multi-antennae digital  
• Saw - snow saw  
• Rutsch Saw   
• Probe - collapsible, lightweight  
• Snow Study - slope meter, crystal cards, magnifier  
• Stuff Sack

Emergency Gear

• Pad - foam pad  
• Bivy - emergency bivy  
• Firestarting - lighter, matches, firestarter  
• Cordage - 40' of spectra cord  
• Sunscreen
• Mug/pot - titanium mug for emergency h20 boiling  

A Blank Canvas Awaits an Artist's Touch

You awake early.  Before dawn.  You sip steaming coffee from your mug then put it down to focus on gripping the steering wheel against the icy road.  You and your partner exchange words of excitement about the upcoming day's adventure as the sun's rays begin to filter onto the landscape from over the mountains that fast approach.  When you arrive your partner does jumping jacks to stay warm while you are finalizing your gear for the day's adventure.  All is ready.  You both depart.  The only sound is the creak of each others bindings and skins on snow. 

You've both hiked this trail multiple times.  Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.  But today is exceptional.  Today you are the first to arrive.  Today it will be your toil, your energy, that breaks the fresh track into the virgin snow.  It will be your route choices that determine the skin track others will follow in the days to come.  A smile crosses both your faces as you relish in this - which is both a chore and an honor. 

The sun is now full in the sky as you approach the basin below the beautiful easterly face of the mountain you've set out to ski.  Natural sluff avalanches are the only markings on it's face, covered in a blanket of fresh snow.  It is a canvas awaiting an artist to carve marks along it's face.  But first the artist must be sure all is safe and that making these marks will not anger the mountain.  You and your partner discuss where is best to perform your research and begin to dig into the surface of the fresh snow.  The results are superb.  You feel confident the mountain will not reject your efforts and you continue your approach to the summit. 

Your efforts until now have been moderate, you've broken trail with your skis but the going has been relatively easy.  Now in front of you stands the summit push.  The bid for the top which will require post-holing in thigh to armpit deep snow and requiring a heightening of efforts bordering on exhausting.  It is a mere few hundred feet but it seems to take an hour.  The wind blows from the West as you trudge upward.  Upon reaching the top there is time for a quick photo, a discussion of a safe line downward and before you know it you are both into your equipment and the first one drops in.  The snow is light and powdery up top with a slight windblown crust a few inches down.  With each toeside turn you enter the whiteroom as a blast of powder fills the entirety of your vision.  You reach the first safety zone and call to your partner to proceed.  You watch quietly as he descends, a smile on your face as he too paints a line into the virgin canvas. 

You've re-grouped and request your partner take first tracks on the next aspect.  He obliges and sets off, laying a beautiful set of turns into the un-tracked slope.  Once below and into a safe zone he whoops up at you - a sign it is your turn to drop into a line of such beauty that you are ecstatic to be so privileged.  As you point your board downward it follows the fall line and you only swerve marginally - choosing instead to let gravity be your guide, and speed be your purpose.  The smile that has formed on your face at the bottom can only be enlarged by the thought that you are setting out to transition to skin-mode, re-climb the line and ride it again. 

The daylight will come to an end soon and civilization calls.  Your partner has obligations and regardless of your excitement you both know your strength will fade and that you still have a four mile ski back to the car.  Fortunately it is mostly downhill and you set out.  There is another hundred or so vertical of powder to be enjoyed as you exit but it is mostly a tight line following the skin track.  You move through it quickly and efficiently stopping only occasionally to make sure each other still making progress. 

Arrival at the car is bittersweet.  The day has been superb.  You give each other high fives and hugs because it has been so superb.  You don your puffy coats and pull your coffee thermoses out of your packs to sip the remaining warm sips from them as you wait for the windows on the Subaru to defrost.  You are both smiling inside and out and are appreciative of each others company but mostly are appreciative of the landscape in which you live.  It is beautiful.  It is powerful.  It is dangerous.  You can find ways to dance with this partner that will exhaust your lungs and exhaust your muscles but all the while fulfill your soul. 

The route GPS track and photo locations can be viewed at my MT. Blackmore - Splitboarding page on Everytrail.com

November Splitboarding and Backcountry Skiing

The past three days my little neck of SW Montana has been getting slammed with new snow and high winds. The avalanche report was warning against wind-loading off ridgetops and was reporting the mountains immediately South of Bozeman had received an inch of snow water (approx. 16" of snow). My buddy Taylor and I wanted to do some backcountry skiing but opted to visit a low-angle zone wherein we hoped to find some powdery slopes without wind slabs having formed. Taylor introduced me to a new zone I'd not even hiked in the summer months yet and that ended up being very safe yet super rewarding.

A two hour hike starting at the History Rock trailhead located in Hyalite Canyon of the Gallatin National Forest brought us through three large snowfields ranging in steepness in the low 30 degree range. These three fields were separated by short sections of tight trees. Upon reaching the "top" of the ridge we planned to ski we opted to lap the upper snowfield three times where we ended up being joined by two other groups. We were able to get fresh tracks down this section for all three laps even though by the end of our stay there were eight skiiers and four dogs there (including us).

After lapping this beautiful powder field we skiied back down our skin track until we came to the other two powder fields we'd spotted on the way in.  These were a bit steeper and provided the opportunity to "open it up" a little and throw some powder carves of pretty stellar quality.  

Taylor and I had not backcountry skiied together so this trip was good practice in seeing how we communicated, made judgement calls, and weighed risk vs. reward.   All in all the day was a worthy trip with a great hike, great turns, and great company. 

View GPS route of our Splitboarding History Rock Trail at EveryTrail

November Canoeing on the St. Croix River

The need to re-write the already spectacular trip report of this journey by friend and fellow Wilderness enthusiast Greg Seitz is hardly necessary so I'll present you with a quick de-brief. If you're a canoeing enthusiast or appreciate blogs with a flare for both the written word and photography be sure to click over and read Greg's post, Once more to the river.

Greg looks at the info kiosk at Osceola Landing.

The St. Croix has a great riverside signage system.

Greg taking a break from paddling.

We lunched at "The Spot".

Night Mountain Bike Riding; Minneapolis, MN

I was visiting family in Minnesota for the past week and had a chance to get out with my brother who is an avid cyclist and photographer. We chose a night ride at Murphy Hanrehan Park Reserve located south of Minneapolis.

Scott was on a full-suspension Ventana and I borrowed his single-speed Salsa Selma, a fine specimen of a 29er constructed of scandium tubing with carbon seatstays. We both had high-powered HID light systems which worked well for the first seven miles until Scott's pooped out. We opted to ride a dirt road back to the trailhead rather than cut our speed in half and try to ride with one light. All in all it was superb to get out for a ride with my brother.

Photo © Scott Haraldson

View a map of the route we chose at Murphy Hanrehan on EveryTrail.

Excessively Late Season Attempt at Snowboarding

If only I had more "on it" a couple weeks ago when we had a bit of early September snow I could have hiked up to the permanent snowfield located in the couloir of "The Great One", found it covered in a couple inches of freshies, made some turns and been happy. But Mike and I had planned to go backpacking that weekend and we headed up to the base of Mount Blackmore instead and although it was a great camping trip I'm still kicking myself for not having gotten some snowboarding done.

A really terrible phone-cam photo of The Great One

It's been on my life-list of goals to snowboard at least once per month for twelve consecutive months. This season I took a splitboarding trip to Pine Creek Lake in July and then went again in August. Having complete those two months I decided I might as well have a go at September as well.
I finished up my work day quickly, left the office, went home, gathered my gear, and drove to the trailhead arriving at 14:45. I set out at a full on speed pace gaining the ridge-top in under thirty minutes and arrived atop the couloir soon after. The couloir, although a permanent snowfield does melt out from the top, bottom, and sides. I had to down-climg a significant distance to reach the snowline.

Looking down The Great One in late September

While holding my board I sliced the edge of it into the snow and found the consistency to be icy and showing little signs of give. At this point in time I was worried I wouldn't get to ride the line at all because I was solo and could not risk an uncontrolled, sliding fall to the rocks below. I opted to down-climb along the skiers-right edge of the snowfield along exposed rocks to a place where some remnants from the two-weeks-previous snowfall remained. From here I was able to strap into my board and make some sketchy heel edge slides through the snow-choked portion of the couloir.

It became obvious that the icy couloir was simply too hard for me to attain any purchase with the edge of my snowboard so I unstrapped and hobbled my way down the steep talus. I had managed to break one of my trekking poles by dropping off a small section of class III rock I needed to down-climb above so I was pretty unbalanced with my snowboard strapped to my pack and the looseness of the rock.

Broken carbon fiber trekking poles

I exited the couloir and found my way to the bottom of the basin wherein I was interested to find the remains of a crashed airplane. I had not seen this on my last trip as it had been covered in snow. I'll need to look into the history of that as it's not too often one encounters this sort of thing. I arrived back at the trailhead with a round-trip from car-to-car of about 2:40 which, given the slowness of my descent along the snow I feel is a pretty good time.

Summer snowboarding means muddy boots and board

Trip Route on EveryTrail.com

Russell Lake Trail; Beartooth Mountain Range; Cooke City, Montana

Russell Lake Trail; Absaroka Beartooth Wilderness; Cooke City, Montana

Summit Cheeseburger - Buck Hill, North Dakota

Mom and Dad chillin' by the grill at the "trailhead".

 

June 25th, 2010 - Theodore Roosevelt National Park, North Dakota
My parents were celebrating their 38th wedding anniversary with a camping trip to Medora, North Dakota. They asked me a few months in advance if I'd like to drive out to see them since it's much much more convenient to drive 400 miles to see them than 1000.

Before leaving I did the mandatory "I'm going on a trip so I'd best look up local summit cheeseburger opportunities" and found Buck Hill and it's location along the scenic drive through Theodore Roosevelt National Park. The opportunity to pack the Weber, some ground beef, cheese, and potato salad into the back of the truck was too juicy to pass up. Mom, Dad, and I grilled burgers at the trailhead and then carried them along with some Cokes up to the Summit, took a photo and then relaxed and enjoyed the view.
 

Sam, Mike and Ann conquering Buck Hill in Theordore Roosevelt National Park

Packrafting- East Gallatin River, Bozeman, MT

A few hours were available at the Backpacking Light offices so the packrafts were grabbed, coffee was consumed, the river was reached and the boats were unleashed. 

The route:

The video:



The photos:

Summit Cheeseburger - Drinking Horse Mtn; Bozeman, MT

First I drove from my house in Bozeman, Montana to the Drinking Horse Mountain trailhead. It is located on Bridger Canyon road. On the way to the trailhead I took some pictures of Drinking Horse Mountain. It is about 629 feet tall. I parked my 1993 Subaru Legacy in the roadside parking lot. As you can see, my car is almost as tall as the mountain. Like any good city trail there is a nice informational kiosk with a map and some little handouts. I stopped and took a picture for you to see. Suddenly I was at the top of Drinking Horse Mountain consuming a double cheeseburger. I kept the cheeseburger wrapped in a knitted hat inside a stuff sack while I hiked. It was warm and delicious. Near the summit of Drinking Horse Mountain someone has constructed a nifty fort out of dead tree branches. It was neat. The proper summit of Drinking Horse Mountain doesn't provide too amazing of views, but slightly to the North a quality view of Bozeman is there for all to see. I made a thirty-five second video of the hike to the summit.

Bissel's Mound - Summit Cheeseburger Project

When he proposed the idea he had a glint in his eye usually reserved for those in the industry of taking fingers. The heavy silence that followed did little to ease the sudden tension that often settled in whenever he had an "idea".
"Are you in?" Sam inquired after a long silent stare at his comrades.
"In on what?" Matt and Jon asked with a puzzled look on their faces.
"Yes or no?" Sam stated with a simple insistence.
"You still haven't told us..."
"The details are unimportant. There is only one certainty - - we will need to get cheeseburgers."
Silence overcame the room as Matt and Jon looked at one another in bewilderment.
"Are you in?" Sam reclined in the car seat and and folded his arms across his chest.
"I'm in." Matt said, similarly leaning back and folding his arms moments before he remembered he was driving.
"Okay, how about you, Jon?"
"Well..."
"Yes or a no. Are you in?"
"Oh all right. I'm in," Jon said with a tone of nonchalance.
Ten hours, twenty-four beers, and a hastily constructed and detonated firework later found the intrepid trio driving the seven miles deep into the heart of farmland in Washington County, Minnesota with a Tupperware container full of microwaved White Castle cheeseburgers. It was not until then that Sam finally revealed his plan.
"So, we go out to this spot in Washington County that's supposedly the highest point?" Jon asked from his position in the back seat.
"That my friend is correct," Sam nodded enthusiastically.
"And we climb up it?"
"Duh."
"Then eat a cheeseburger?"
"Obviously"
"That's silly."
"And...?"
"Well, let's do it," Jon shrugged. "It's as good as any place to have breakfast I suppose.
As the Toyota began easing over to the side of the rural road, Sam took a worried look around. "We just have to watch out for the neurotic Nazi ninja monkey who, by a staggering coincidence are all named Mr. Tinkles."

Matt and Jon, normally allowing such nonsensical tripe to pass without comment, both gave Sam a puzzled look and began subliminally calculating how long until the car was traveling at a low enough velocity to jump out.
"What the hell are you talking about, moron?!?" Matt demanded before his silence reflex could kick in.
"I'm just saying, this is neurotic Nazi ninja monkey country, and it's been warm enough that they're probably done hibernating. I just hope we don't stumble on to one of their group hugs. A neurotic Nazi ninja monkey is most dangerous when he's hugging."
Simultaneously Matt and Jon's mental calculations turned to how much damage would be incurred if Sam were to be pushed from the moving vehicle while accelerating. Both arrived at the conclusion that apart from a little hippie-splatter the car would probably be fine.
Just as Matt's hand was slowly snaking towards Sam's seatbelt release button Sam's arm shot out causing both Matt and Jon to jump.
"That's it!" He announced enthusiastically. "Pull over here."
Jon and Matt exchanged one more glance of unease as Matt pulled the Toyota toward the side of the road next to a large empty farm field.
"So where is it?" Jon said, squinting out the window.
"There!" Sam pointed.
"I can't see it, is it near that dirt-mound?"
"It IS the dirt mound."
"You what?!" Matt and Jon both turned towards a smug-looking Sam.
"That, my friends, is Bissell's Mound, the highest geological point in Washington County. And we, my friends are going to climb it. Oh yes, we will climb it and eat cheesburgers atop it while we take in the glorious view of..." Sam was interrupted by Matt clicking the release on his seatbelt and kicking with all his strength while Jon leaned over and opened his door causing Sam to tumble from the car in an indignant heap of profanity and lightweight hiking boots.
"Thank god for that," Jon said flopping back down in his seat.
"That might have worked better," Sam's head suddenly popped back up, "if the car was actually moving."

"Damn," Matt said as he looked at the keys in his hand.
"Double damn," Jon said as he realized they would never get another chance.
"Ok, let's go - and don't forget the cheeseburgers," Sam said as he gestured towards the tupperware container cooling on the seat.
"Damn," muttered Matt, the parking brake catching his foot and preventing him from kicking himself. "Now what?"
"Looks like we scale a mound," Jon sighed.
"Ok, what if we were to break an ankle getting out of the car?"
"I if you were to cut your foot off completely he'd still make you climb."
"It wasn't MY ankle I was thinking of."
"It won't help."
"I know."
Thirty seconds later, after convincing Matt to leave the aluminum bat behind, the three adventurers began trudging along the edge of a muddy farm field towards what appeared to be a gigantic earthen pimple on the otherwise flat expanse of landscape.
"Hey, are we trespassing?" Matt observed the wooden fence that ran the perimiter of the field.
"Hey, yeah! We should probably get the permission of the landowners before we do this!" Jon chirped, "I bet that's their house right there." He pointed at the house with conspicuous satellite dish in the front yard.
"That's a good idea!" Matt nodded a little too enthusiastically. "I bet they have ESPN."
"Oh for God's sake, you guys!" Sam suddenly halted and spun on the pair. "It's maybe a hundred feet of walking up an incline, it's not like I'm asking you to crawl across a field of broken glass with your pants fly unzipped!"

"That's a good point," Jon mused. "But on the other hand it's a hundred feet of walking up an incline."
"He's right," Matt patted his shoulder. "It had to happen sooner or later but he's actually..."
"Just walk, you spaghetti-spined whiners," Sam said as he turned and continued on towards the dirt-heap.
"I think he was talking about you," Matt whispered to Jon as they followed along.
It wasn't long before the mound loomed before them in all its vertical glory. Surrounded by a perimeter of trees it sloped steeply upwards to, as was mentioned, the highest point in the county.
"I think if we circle to the left a little where the trees are thinner, we could easily get through," Sam said, pondereding the potential routes upward.
"Or, we could just set fire to this side and wait a few days. The way would be clear then," Jon stated, stroking his chin in what he hoped was a thoughtful way.
"Don't be stupid," Matt poked him in the ribs. "The cheeseburgers would be cold by that time. Does your chin itch or something?"
Jon stopped stroking his chin and returned to moping.
"Or, if we could get through the underbrush here it would be an easy ascent. Did either one of you bring a machete?" Sam stoked his chin in what was indeed a thoughtful way.
Matt and Jon stopped giving each other threatening looks and turned to Sam in unison with bewildered look on their faces.
"Well?"
"No, sorry," Jon answered. "I left it back at my apartment next to the weed whip and the barrel of agent orange."
"And I don't believe in defoliation," Matt said, folding his arms defiantly. "It's against my religion."
"Right, this way then," Sam led on, completely missing the sarcasm that was oozing out of every pore of his traveling companions.
"Hey, look! There's a beaten path through the trees right over there! This is going to be easy." Matt began towards the opening but Sam's arm shot out and stopped him.
"No!" A wide-eyed Sam half whispered, half shouted. "That's a neurotic Nazi ninja monkey trail! If they're nearby they'll sense our disruption and come running armed with pointy sticks and self-doubt." He studied the path intently. "It looks like they just got it the way they like it, so you don't want to disturb a single blade of grass there. Believe me, they'll know."

"Uh-huh," Matt nodded. "Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem. Say, on a completely different subject, have you eaten any strange-looking mushrooms in the last few days?"
"No, why?"
"Have you had any severe blows to the head?" Jon asked.
"No."
"Do you want one?"
"Shut up."
"You got it."
Quietly the group wound they're way around the base of the mound until they found a spot where the trees didn't quite form an impassible wall. Sam, being the more experienced hiker, deftly wove his way through them while Matt and Jon simply plowed through with clumsy determination. Halfway in Matt whispered to Jon.
"Are you getting thistles in your underwear too?"
"Yeah!" Jon grinned goofily.
"Ew."
When they finally emerged from the dense undergrowth the three were startled to find themselves half way up the hill. Jon looked back as the last traces of their path disappeared, reabsorbed into the thick foliage.
"Let's do that again!" He almost sang.
"NO!" Both Sam and Matt shouted back.
"And take that raspberry vine out of your pants!" Matt added.
"No."

"Oh please yourself, then. Just be aware that raspberry stains are even harder to explain to the girlfriend than they are to wash out," Sam shouted over his shoulder as he continued up the steep incline.
"I'll take my chances," Jon muttered as he followed after.
"Just don't drop the cheeseburgers."
"Are we there yet?" Matt sighed.
"Actually... yes." Sam suddenly noticed that the slope had become far less vertical and only sky presented itself when he looked upward.
"We are?" Jon said stopped and realized the only change in altitude that he could make was now downwards. "We are!"
"We made it?" Matt looked around startled.
"We are officially at the top of Bissell's Mound, gentlemen," Sam said as he smiled broadly. "Time to break out some burgers."
"Right, then." Jon set the Tupperware container on the ground and popped the lid off letting the smell of soggy microwaved White Castle cheeseburgers waft out. Each man took one of the small sandwiches and stood looking out over the landscape.
"Cheers!" Sam held up his burger as if it were a fine wine in an expensive crystal glass. Matt and Jon each held theirs up as well and "clinked" them together causing a few onions to crumble to the ground. The only conversation that followed was the unmistakable sound of chewing and savoring.
When the first three burgers had been devoured the three adventurers allowed a moment to pass as they gazed at the landscape stretched out before them. It was mostly farm land, with a few brushy clusters of trees dotting the areas where it was impossible to drive a tractor. Far beyond was the faint sound of the highway, muted by distance and a lingering humidity that wasn't quite fog. Jon was the first to speak.
"Wow. From up here everything looks so..."
"Majestic?" Sam ventured.
"Awe-inspiring?" Matt guessed.
"Flat."
"Remind me not to talk to you later, will you?" Matt sighed.

"Who's ready for seconds?" Sam rubbed his hands together, eager to end the conversation.
As each one reached down to pick up another cheeseburger a sudden cracking of twigs could be heard behind a clump of dead trees. A few whining wails could be heard drifting on the light breeze and the overpowering smell of sauerkraut and wasabi wafted past the three friends.
Matt squinted in the direction of the sounds and smells. "What the hell is-"
"SHHHH!" Sam, now wide-eyed, motioned for everyone to crouch down. "Keep down, and whatever you do don't say anything supportive in Japanese or they'll come running!"
"Who?!" Jon demanded in a harsh whisper.
"What do you mean who?! I've only been talking about them all day. It's the neurotic Nazi ninja monkeys! If they catch us they'll force us to listen to all their problems in haiku form and then try to annex Poland!"
"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Matt shrugged.
"Yeah, it might actually be kind of funny," Jon began to stand but Sam pulled him back down.
"And they'll also beat us up and throw feces at us. Did I mention that part?"
"Are you seriously saying there are actually a bunch of monkeys over there who are not only ninjas, but who also have severe personality hang-ups?" Matt whispered incredulously.
"And throw their poo, yes," Sam hissed.
"That is wholly unbelievable," Matt countered.
At that moment a small furry hand appeared above the level of the undergrowth. It was held ridged at an angle with the palm down as if it were...
"Holy crap, is that thing giving a nazi salute?" Jon gasped.
"Yes! They hate anything that isn't their own race, and that means us!" Said Sam.
"We should probably get out of here," Matt said nervously.
"Wait!" Sam held up his hand.
"What?"

"We haven't finished our cheeseburgers!" Sam exclaimed, holding aloft his precious meal.
"He's right!" Jon looked in horror at the burger in his hand.
"Ok," Matt, obviously conflicted between his love of grilled meat and his love of being able to walk under his own power, finally came up with a solution. "Eat fast!"
Without a moment's hesitation all three simultaneously began stuffing the small cheeseburgers into their mouths and frantically chewing.
"Oh mahh aahhth guuuhhd," Jon mumbled through a mouthful of processed meat and cheese.
"Lethh go," Sam said, swallowing.
The three began creeping on hands and knees back the way they came as quietly as possible through the dried weeds. Every now and then they could hear a high pitch howl of emotional pain and confusion behind them. Just as the group reached the tree line the howls built in volume and frequency until they hit a crescendo of animalistic wailing.
"Oh, God! I think they're hugging!" Sam's face paled. "We've got to get out of here. Now."
"I don't think they know we're here," Jon whispered back. As if in answer to this statement a small silver object flew past his face and buried itself in the trunk of a tree.
Jon blinked. "Was that a-"
"Throwing star!" Matt screamed.
"RUN!" Sam stood and made a break for the trees.
Matt and Jon needed no more encouragement as the clamor of screeching simians was beginning to quickly close in. As they ran Jon hazarded a glance over his shoulder and immediately snapped his head back.
"Is it just me," He panted as tree branches and other assorted bracken whipped past him. "Or do they all look a little like Woody Allen in tiny black jumpsuits?"
Matt looked back for a moment and nodded the best he could with a squirrel's nest narrowly missing his face. "They do bear an uncanny resemblance."
Without warning the three suddenly broke through the tree line and found themselves running across an open field. "There's the car!" Sam shouted.
"I think they're getting closer!" Matt realized their pursuers would overtake them long before they made it to the car. "I also think we're screwed."

"Wait! I have an idea." Sam stopped and turned to face the howling throng of angry monkeys.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Jon called to him as he ran past a few steps and stopped.
"You're insane! They're going to bore you to death!" Matt stopped slightly behind Jon.
Ignoring both of them Sam raised his finger, pointing to a spot somewhere behind the horde of simian supremacists.
"Hey, Mr. Tinkles, look!" He hollered at the top of is lungs, "It's Ben Stiller in drag!" To everyone's amazement the monkeys stopped and looked around.
"And I think he's got Prozac in his pocket!" Matt added, catching on.
"And he's signing another movie deal in which he plays a guy living in New York but has to cope with something outside his element!" Jon shouted. "And they're paying him twenty million to do it!" He added for good measure.
This seemed to instantly enrage the spandex-clad primates and they ran off in random directions, screeching angrily and clawing at their eyes.
"That was close," Jon said. As he turned around he was greeted by two fists that introduced themselves to his face at high speed, knocking him to the ground.
"OW! What was that for?!" Jon rolled around on the ground cradling his jaw.
"Don't even joke about that!" Matt kicked him in the side.
"I'd rather face the monkeys naked and covered in banana paste than even think about another Ben Stiller movie!" Sam stomped his foot down on Jon's gut.
"All right, all right, I'm sorry! I panicked!," Jon coughed and wheezed. As he began to catch his breath both Matt and Sam grabbed an arm and helped him back to his feet.
As the three walked back to the car Matt turned to Sam. "So, is it always like this?"
"Nah," Sam shook his head. "Sometimes it's actually exciting."
"But it's always cheeseburgers?" Jon asked.
"Ever since Sir William Weber scaled Mount Sirloin with a Hibachi strapped to his back."
"Huh."
The crew walked on in silence for a while until they finally reached the car. The sound of angry neurotic Nazi ninja monkey nazis tearing the mound apart in their fruitless search echoed across the landscape as Matt unlocked the doors.
"So," Sam said as he stretched out. "What are you guys doing for lunch?"

Bridger Ridge Traverse

*Note - this was originally posted as a trip report on Summit Post. Also, View Trip Photos

Jeff and Sam started at Fairy Lake USFS campground at 07:30 on 2008-08-24 with light packs, lots of food, water, maps and legs ready to be destroyed. We finished, eleven and a half hours later having ascended 5,170ft, descended 7460ft and traveled nineteen miles.

Preparation - Jeff has lived in Bozeman for two years and has had his eye on the route followed during the Bridger Ridge Run just about ever since. Sam has lived in Bozeman for about a month and a half but has had his eye on a Bridger Traverse since the first time he skiied Bridger Bowl in 2005.

In a passing conversation the week prior to the trip Jeff mentioned his 30th birthday was coming up and that he had a desire to do something meaningful, worthwhile and challenging before his twenties passed. Knowing that Sam was someone who thoroughly enjoyed backpacking, hiking and alpine scrambling he put forth the idea to him as well as some other Bozeman locals. Sam responded with a whole-hearted, hell yes I'd like to join you and the response from others was a bit milder.

Sam and Jeff both did some independent research of the traverse using such tools as the excellent Bozeman Area topographic map, Google Earth and the Ridge Run maps located at the Big Sky Wind Drinkers Web site.

The Hike - Waking at 05:30 on Sunday morning a quick breakfast was consumed and the packs finally loaded. Sam brought Clif bars, salami, cheese, baguette, chocolate and four liters of water. Jeff brought sandwiches, M and Ms and nine and a half liters of water (having miscalculated thinking he was only bringing seven and a half). Driving Sam's Subaru to the Fairy Lake trailhead they quickly hit the trail opting to change the Bridger Run route to their own liking by tacking on a summit of Hardscrabble Peak to the already big day of travel planned.


Descending from Hardscrabble the meat of the journey began with a climb of Sacagawea Peak, the high point of the trip at 9,665ft of elevation. A use trail exists along the entirety of the Bridge Range as described in this report but side-steps some of the summits in the range. Opting to bag most of these Sam and Jeff next climbed the few dozen extra feet to the summit of Naya Nuki wherein author Kenneth Thomasma has left a few copies of his novel, Naya Nuki, Shoshone Girl Who Ran, the story of the peak's namesake.

The use trail is excellent for 95% of the route and is the majority of what is traveled in the traverse. The route called for in the Bridger Ridge Run skips a beefy section near Ross Peak which would call for a higher class of scrambling that most are prepared for in a running race. At this point the suggested route is to drop a thousand some odd feet to the National Scenic hiking trail which parallels the Bridger Ridge on the West side. A beautiful trail with excellent tread takes traversers to Ross Pass and then at a well-marked junction (large cairn and two blazes, one paint and one cut) hikers should turn left, head straight uphill on a well-worn use trail back to the summit of the ridge.

The rest of the day was spent hopping rocks, photographing amazing views and calculating mileages and hours. Along the way are great views of many mountain ranges, including the Crazy Mountains, Madison Range, Absaroka Range, Beartooth Range, Gallatin Range, and the Tobacco Root Mountains.

Other named peaks that are ticked off while hiking this traverse are Saddle Peak, Bridger Peak and Baldy Mountain .

Descending from Baldy Mountain to the Bozeman area "M" trail is a knee-pounding affair nearly straight down a few thousand some odd feet. After a grueling day in the sun, hiking on scree and rock it took it's toll on Jeff and Sam’s knees. We met Jeff's wife Shannon at the "M" and finshed at the "M" trailhead to shuttle back to Fairy Lake to fetch Sam's vehicle.

Conclusions - Having hiked this partial section of the Bridger Range Traverse both Sam and Jeff would like to complete the remaining section from Flathead Pass southward to Hardscrabble.

Worthy of mention is the common thread on various Internet resources that the route is hard to follow and both Sam and Jeff agree that these statements are false. With minimal route-finding skills and keeping one's eyes open anyone with the physical capabilities for big miles and big elevations should have little to no difficulty in completing this traverse.















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