12/23/17 Owl Creek Cabin and Campground

Fading sun on the Swan Mountains

Even though this trip was not in the direct Missoula vicinity, it is close.  It took us about one and one-half hour to make it to the Owl Creek Cabin, where we stayed for two nights.

On the 23rd of December, Carrie and I drove up with Jeff and Rebecca to the Owl Creek Cabin, near Holland Lake, to spend a couple nights.  That first evening, after settling in to the cabin and getting a fire going to warm it up, we stepped into our skis and set out to explore our surroundings.  We started on the campground road and headed out by a corral, angling through the trees beyond to what looked like a meadow.  In the opening past the trees, we found some of the private houses in the area and decided to turn around.

Heading back to the cabin

Back on the campground road, we enjoyed some of the waning sunlight on the peaks.  We passed the cabin and skied up the trail that left right from the campground entrance.  It was a nice, wide trail, and it was evident that this was a popular stock trailhead for people getting into the Bob Marshall Wilderness.  Shortly after starting, we crossed another road and carried on up the other side.  When the trail became steeper, we decided to stop.  We talked about the possibility of starting up this trail the next day and making a loop to Holland Lake and back to the cabin, and then we started skiing back.  At the road we crossed, we decided to ski down it to the open road to the cabin.  Despite looking like some downhill, we could not just coast down to the road.  The snow was good, however, and we had just underestimated the steepness of the hill.  From the bottom of the hill, we skied the open road happily back to the campground and through it to the cabin.

12/22/17 Rattlesnake National Recreation Area

Viewpoint about 3 1/2 miles in

On the 22nd of December, I went out for my first ski of the season.  I had been awaiting this day and on my first day of Christmas break I set out to see how the snow was up the Rattlesnake.  The snow was fresh on an obvious harder, icier layer and felt good under my skis.  As the first one at the trailhead that morning, I had fresh tracks and skied to the trail junction at the first bathroom, nearly three-quarters of a mile from the trailhead.  The snow on the trail was good as well and I headed for the trail that dropped down to creek level.  This hill looked slick and I decided since I was only fifteen minutes into my first ski of the year that I would take it easy and walk this hill.

Whitetail kill site

At the bottom, I stepped back into the skis and headed toward the creek.  Within one hundred feet there was a dead whitetail deer just off the trail.  It was still very much intact and there were the contents of the intestines, fur, and blood on the snow around it.  I took off my skis to examine the site.  I immediately assumed mountain lion or wolves.  Last year I saw wolf prints within half a mile from the trailhead on two occasions.  Upon circling the site, however, I saw smaller canine prints that led me to think coyote instead of wolf, and there were no obvious signs of lion prints.  There was some fur that had been bitten off, almost cut, and not ripped, and I had heard this was something lions did.  It looked like there was more than one set of possible coyote tracks, so I assumed that maybe a lion had killed the deer and coyotes chased it off or stumbled upon it while the lion was away briefly.  Then I wondered how recently any of these animals had been on the kill.  Had I chased them off?

Viewpoint more snow-filtered on the return

I skied further up the trail and paid more attention to my surroundings as I did.  I followed the next trail that cut off down toward the creek and skied by my favorite spot on the lower creek.  The trail is right next to the creek as it flows by some fifty- to seventy-foot crumbly cliffs.  To ascend out of this spot is challenging unless the snow is quite sticky.  I again de-skied and walked up to the junction.  I skied up through the forest next to the small meadow and to the ascent trail that connects back with the main trail on the old road.  Getting back to the road, I found that no one had gone through while I explored down by the creek, and I set off further into the woods.  The snow was good, and I was enjoying myself.  The further I skied, the fainter the old tracks became.  I had no set destination for the day and just kept going.

Ski tracks through the meadow to the creek

After the bridge over Fraser Creek and the small descent, I stopped briefly there over the Rattlesnake and took in the snow-filtered view up the drainage.  The snow was good and I was feeling good, so I carried on, hoping to get to the meadows where the grooming usually stops.  This meadow is about one and one-half mile from the viewpoint on the creek and within a few minutes past the bridge over Pilcher Creek.  As I neared the meadow, I was surprised that there was still some faint tracks from someone who had walked up the trail.  It was clear they had walked through fresh snow, probably the day prior.  I was convinced they would stop in the meadow, but they continued up drainage, so without stopping (or really even thinking about it) I carried on up the drainage too.

Meadow beyond Beeskove Creek

The further I went, the deeper the snow was, and it was harder to see if the tracks went on.  With no destination in mind, I eventually told myself I should turn around.  I was not convincing myself, however, and each new turn in the trail led me to say, "Just a little further; around the next bend."  After some time I came to the bridge over Beeskove Creek.  I knew I was getting closer to Franklin Bridge, eight miles from the trailhead, but without my map I wasn't sure how close.  I also knew I should not have a sixteen-mile day on my first day our for the season.  When I skied into another meadow, I left the trail and skied to the edge of the creek, where I stopped for a break.

I did not stay long and followed my tracks back to the trail.  There were a couple spots where I had broken through frozen puddles on the way up and had to ski around to avoid coating my skis with water and sticking up.  I did not see another skier until nearly the three-mile point.  After that, I stopped to talk with a lone hiker who seemed to know the Rattlesnake well.  I did not ask but assumed that he may left the tracks I followed deep into the canyon.  After that, I saw more people skiing as I neared the trailhead.  It still was not as crowded as it can get on a busy weekend, but people were out enjoying the snow.