Canoeing with Bears

"Why are you breaking?" I was yapping over the sound of squealing breaks and a momentary cloud of dust, already knowing the answer. "There's a bear!" LR exclaimed. "So what?" Came the most unwelcome reply. We were descending the Blue Point descent in the spring and a large black bear had been in the trail while the little man was on point. The bear seemed unconcerned and had decided to remain in the general trail area in between the switchbacks as we continued on. It was a large black bear, but the general lesson was continue on being respectful all the while. Bears are part of the deal. I was not sure how that was received. I'm also not sure it was the right message. However, we continued on.Since I was unfortunately out on the Park City race over this Labor Day weekend, we made the decision to do some canoeing. I called it a mtb season following Butte this year. We'll see what follows. LR was looking forward to some time in some new country, so I chose the Middle Fork of the Flathead River and surrounding Glacier Park area for some long weekend recreation.
"A hundred bucks?" That was my reply to how much a local operation in the park area wanted to do a shuttle for us from Bear Creek to West Glacier down Route 2. I packed Jake at that point and decided I would be the shuttle giving us the option to take out at any point along the trip. We pitched a tent Friday night not too far from the Burlington Northern tracks which run along this stretch of river. The tracks, running between Glacier National Park and the highway, result in bears occasionally getting killed along this stretch. Early Saturday morning I thought the trains would never cease. It's nice to know a few are still running! It was raining at one in the morning. LR never made a peep. We got up and started paddling. Along the journey, we quickly encountered the first bear. A decent black bear that was climbing the west bank of the river. The bear was minding its own business and left us alone. We ran most of the water, which this time of year is reasonably safe. The canoe has a lot of rocker anyway, which helps too. Fall water equals rocks in some sections which means hike a section to protect the boat. Not too much of this. Someone liked bombing the whitewater sections though! This section of water is one of Montana's most pristine floats. Clear glacial water with cutthroats and grizzlies. The park to the east above the high water mark. It took a little while to get Jake balanced. "Remember, west is the highway." I reminded someone just in case things got interesting. I had recently picked up a very reasonable medium action F.E. Thomas rendition bamboo rod on a popular online auction site and decided to bring it along. Managed to get this one at about the price of my old graphite jobs. Following some lunch, I pulled it out and went to work on a section while someone got his feet dry and warmed up.

The fish were pretty finicky and I was not able to provoke a strike. We finally noted a few fish rising below our hole and both of us quickly dropped down to further investigate the matter. The adams actually failed! I tied on a yellow humpy and a beautiful fish rose to the occasion making my day. Things at this point were going pretty smoothly. LR even managed a fine couple of photos. I turned the rod over to the kid to give it a whirl. We worked together on casting in the area and then he solo went to work. However, we were in a slippery section and down he went, falling on the rod. Well, that was that. We put back on the water and I was thinking to myself while navigating from the rear "I wonder if that guy in Portland will be reasonable fixing things or should I say the BN ran it over?" Following an epic lengthy float, we decided to let me take Jake back to the truck and then drive back to the kid. We never saw a person on the river until the take out where some folks from Columbia Falls were tossing spinners. Jake worked out quite well and just missing a significant storm, we were soon on our way to a lake partially in the park and partially out ~ Lower Two Medicine. That night nearby we had another black bear come almost completely into camp, but bugging off when we made enough racket to make it think twice. Sunday morning canoeing we saw a mother grizzly with her cub on a bank. This was a great moment as everything was in control. The mother bear and her cub played on a bank and we got a few photographs. We shortly thereafter headed over Logan Pass above St. Mary Lake. St. Mary Lake is a favorite spot, especially in September when conditions are generally cold and miserable. It was snowing lightly and some folks snapped one off for us after I first did so for them. It seems odd to see so many folks in the park this time of year. It's been a while since we were up there, so maybe things have changed and now fall is the popular time to visit. A friend said the park was having one of its best years. This actually is good news for the park and we bought an annual pass; however, we may have to begin pushing things back a little further yet in the year.

It's nice to see the burn areas so green on the east side. The horses and cattle roaming the highway seem to have plenty of things to graze on. It was snowing on top. LR was counting the number of times we could have honked at nervous drivers crossing over the yellow line and into our lane. Going to the Sun. Always a challenge, but mainly so avoiding the lengthy camper fifth wheels and folks unaccustomed to driving Montana logging roads. We had driven 93 up through the reservation and then along east side of the lake to West Glacier. I wonder if the bear crossing has worked not too far above Evaro? We understand things went pretty well for the cherry growers this year. I pointed out a few fishing areas on the Jocko and said we'd come back to Missoula via another route. That meant of course through the Swan and lower country, where I had recently been canoeing with Wen-Dawg on the back side of the Missions. I pointed that out too after stopping off below at the lower edge of the Swan Lake Wildlife Refuge, where there are waterfowl opportunities coming up shortly. We had peanut butter sandwiches on Seeley and watched another black bear across from what are now the University grounds. Once again, another bear that did not mind us. Is it ski season yet?

On the Local Front

Symphony cycling event 9/18/10: Info at cycle4

Burning Dog 10/8/10: Info at B-Dog

DU Banquet 12/11/10: Info here DU

Soccer Practice

Well, for one of us anyway. I did a quick drop of the LR and continued to the nearby Bitterroot to launch the boat and see what was going on on the river. "If I'm not back by eight, borrow a cell and call me." Simple enough.

Today in town it was in the nineties and smoke from local fires has filled the valley, complements of a healthy wind to complete the weather cocktail. The river was reasonably quiet with a few folks coming by drifting on black tubes. I paddled down stream, knowing I'd have to turnaround and paddle back up at some point to pick up the rascal. I found a nice section to portage and get rigged up. The wt got the call tonight. The rod is floppy. I started working a hopper along the bank and through a few riffles to no avail. It was a poor floater. I switched to a stimulator. It was maybe seven or so and I had to be back at eight. No action on the stimi. At this point, something had to happen. I started casting a large parachute adams into the above snag. Just above the lower branch, a large flash of bright colors emerged from the bottom and swallowed hard. It was a nice fight, but the rainbow was well hooked. After a quick photo, which I now see included garbage, I released the fish. The fish was powerful and quickly bolted back below its log home. I managed to catch the last half hour of practice too! Now, if this smoke would just clear.

Back on the Water

We got on the water at 07.45. First was a four mile paddle in on a larger body of water. Someone kept the bow down to help navigate south in the wind.Then, after passing a few folks camped out on the southern end of the lake, we made our way up through the mouth of a small glacial stream. We paddled up stream as far as we could until the channel was non-navigable.At this point we ditched the canoe and began a late morning hike. The bear spray was coming along for this section, out and accessible. We stopped at a favorite little site to cool our feet in the drink, off of the beaten path. Then we pressed up to the next lake.
They would have been taking a difficult route, and none were around today - skiers that is. We sat on a rock and watched solo roaming trout hit at pine needles. No rods along.

Someone passed out paddling home after the hike back to the canoe. The scapula does not like the old J-stroke.

A Small Bridge

The stream flows north. She wanted to get there prior to school starting, so that's what we did. Saturday's objective was to hike the trail above the landing strip north east to its mouth at Kelly. Prior to getting to the airstrip, we noted how every time we drop into Idaho over Hoo Doo the scenery is stunning. I was ready for some new exploring further down this drainage. We departed from camp in the afternoon and quickly realized the trail was above the creek, but well below the ridge top to the west. It was a steep side hill for most of the jaunt on a washed out trail. Further, the trail was overgrown with laurel and hucks. The hucks were actually a nice addition, but the balance of the overgrowth meant an eventual erosion of enthusiasm. We bushwhacked our way down to the creek, breaking off of the side of the mountain. Cayuse narrows in this section and has wonderful pocket water. It is a bit dangerous as there are many sections requiring climbs over large rocks. We took our time. After only getting about half way to Kelly, we decided to call it a hike, fishing our way back to camp initially trying to stay down in the drainage, but being forced up to the trail again due to some bad sections. The goal was the mouth of the creek, but scraped up legs were the result. The next time over we'll push through with the point man wielding a machete. Sunday, once we got to Kelly coming back, I thought of hiking up Kelly to the mouth which is about the same distance as hiking from the airstrip down; however, there were three vehicles parked at the trail head, so we fished down stream instead. The fishing was fine. Many native cuts were caught. I spent most of the day using the small three piece four weight with tiny Adams flies. We took turns, working on our casting. I now realize debarbing number 20 and smaller flies is not an easy thing to do.

Sunday Morning

It was Saturday evening. We'd spent the full day canoeing on the lake as a family, staying at a friend's place. The kid's had caught fish on top with a bug that had a green body and gray wings. When that had not worked, the peacock dropper did the job as well. It had been a beautiful day. In the evening, my friend Max called from Salt Lake. He's been selling bikes for a local shop this summer and missing the Montana floats.

"I've been looking at the pictures." He said. We chatted about the recent bull trout episode and my subsequent evening trip to the Bitterroot mountains. "It's been a while, but I've skied St. Marys. We messed up finding the road coming out." The native Bitterrooter continued, "Are you still coming down?" "I'm not sure, Max. School is about to start, and one wants to do a camping and floating excursion and the other wants to head back to Cayuse before the summer is over." I said. "Besides, this has not exactly been a good year for me on the bike. At some point shortly, I'll let you know." I continued. Hearing from Max, however, always puts the wind back in my sails.

Sunday morning I got up early. There was a light mist on the lake. I wanted to beat the motor boats, water skiers and routine lake racket. It was calm and peacefully quiet. No one was up other than one float tuber, pitching patterns to sipping rainbows.
Solo canoeing is wonderful. However, I wished I had gotten my daughter up to paddle along given the wildlife that I observed. The journey was about a four and a half mile loop and I initially started with loons and their little ones. Then a large gathering of geese, which left their feathers along the route. Eventually, I noted from the distance what I thought to be a small island. When I got closer, however, I saw ears. Then, it moved.

She did not seem to mind me. We hung out together (from a distance) and got to know one another. Then, after a few photos, I let her continue dunking her head to reach her breakfast, and I continued on the loop.

Things wrapped up with three herons. This one allowed me to sneak in a quick photo. While fishing the night prior, I watched an osprey lose its grip on a large rainbow, sending it crashing down to the lake below right before my eyes. This had been a fine weekend.