JUNE 10
The Nez Perce people had been living in the Washington/Oregon/Idaho/Montana area for thousands of years before Lewis and Clark came through on their way to the Pacific. Nez Perce played a key role in ensuring the success of the expedition.
They guided the expedition down the Snake River on their westward journey. They showed them an overland ‘shortcut’ on their eastward return trip. And, after a failed attempt to cross the Bitterroot Mountains on their own in the snowy spring of 1806, the expedition got help from five young Nez Perce, who led them safely over the range.
Unfortunately, this spirit of cooperation was relatively short-lived. Within a couple of generations, and after waves of settlers arrived from the east, and after broken/revised treaties, the Nez Perce were driven from their ancestral home lands. The discovery of gold in Montana and Idaho led to an aggressive policy by the U.S., enforced by the Army, to move the Nez Perce to a small reservation outside the region.
One of the more brutal chapters in this saga occurred in the summer of 1877 in a peaceful meadow along the Big Hole River in Montana. Today, it’s known as the Big Hole National Battlefield.
To get there, we drove south on Highway 93 (retracing Lewis and Clark’s northward path up the Bitterroot Valley in 1805), through Lost Trail Pass to Highway 43. We turned east up into the Beaverhead Mountains along a beautiful valley until we got to the battlefield. There is a nice visitor center overlooking the site, with lots of information, including a short film featuring descendants of the Nez Perce.
As we stood at the window looking out at the meadow, a snow squall blew through. Within a few minutes, the blue sky disappeared, along with all visibility. Just as quickly, the skies cleared (sort of) and we decided to take a short walk out to the Nez Perce memorial along the Big Hole River.
Prairie dogs guard the path.
It’s still considered a sacred burial ground. Nez Perce descendants gather here every August in remembrance.
JUNE 11
Today, we got up early and drove west on the Mullan Road, a.k.a. I-90, into the Bitterroot Mountains. The highway follows the Clark Fork River toward the Idaho border. Our destination was the Route of the Hiawatha Bike Trail. Jeff and Joanna had all the bikes and other gear, so we were prepared for a day of adventure.
Near Lookout Pass, is the start of a spectacular ‘rails-to-trails’ bicycle road. It is part of a disused railway that once ran from Chicago to Seattle. It was known as the Milwaukee Road. This section winds through the steep canyon of the Loop Creek drainage.
It is an amazing example of early 20th century engineering and construction. Thousands of workers spent five years carving into, blasting through, and building across the nearly vertical terrain. The road hugs the mountain as you descend the 15 mile bike route through 9 tunnels and over 7 trestles.
You start out by riding into the 1.7 mile long St. Paul Pass tunnel. It goes across (under?) the Montana/Idaho border. The temperature inside is a constant and cool 47 degrees. There is a large volume of water seepage present and at times it seems like it’s raining in there. It’s also really dark - headlights are required. About halfway through, you can see a tiny speck of light at the other end. I thought it was an oncoming rider. But after a long time, I realized it was the literal ‘light at the end of the tunnel’. It seemed to take forever to reach it.
When you come out of the tunnel, there’s a waterfall and a nice photo opportunity.
One of the tunnels further down the road played a role in the famous wildfires in 1910, known as the Big Burn. As the fires swept through this area, a locomotive engineer was passing a small depot in the canyon, where about 100 people were gathered frantically trying to escape the flames. The engineer hooked up a flat car to his train and took the folks into a tunnel, where they stayed until the firestorm passed. There is a legend that one passenger panicked and jumped to his death. There is a small memorial marking the spot.
The mountains are densely covered with very tall lodgepole pines. As you go down the trail, the trees tower above you on one side, while on the other side you look over the edge and find yourself high above the tops of the trees.
I was briefly able to get myself to peer down into the conifer abyss.
Looking straight down through slats on the trestle.
Down the road we stopped for lunch, where we were joined by one of the local residents.
Riders have the option to turn around and ride back up to the parking lot. Or, they can buy a pass for a school bus ride up a twisty one lane dirt road up to the top. We took the bus.
On the way home, we stopped for the “Best. Shake. Ever.”, as the roadside sign proclaimed. It was - what else? - a huckleberry shake! And, it was the best.huckleberry.shake I’ve ever had.
As daylight began to fade, at around 10:00pm, we drifted off to sleep with visions of pedals, bicycle seats, and handlebars in our minds.
NEXT: Wrap up coming soon.
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