After three days of epic flying in Idaho, Jo flew into Missoula to meet me for the next part of the journey. We spent the night with the Shapiro’s then headed north early in the morning to outrun thunderstorms forecasted by the same cold front that chased Jeff and I out of Idaho. The first leg to Whitefish airport was utterly spectacular as we flew along the steep western slopes of the Mission Mountains. Alpine mountain lakes and waterfalls were the norm off the right wing, with the dark blue water of Flathead Lake off the left. Our first stop was at Whitefish Airport, a 2,500-foot grass strip on the southeast corner of town.
The Mission Mountains
Finley Point, Flathead Lake
Whitefish Airport is close enough to walk into town, but there were several ancient bikes hidden in the shed behind a Montana Aeronautics Division tractor. They creaked and moaned like a sinking ship as we pedaled into town for the day. After breakfast and replenishing our supplies, I treated myself to a hair cut at an old timey barbershop, followed by a jump off the dock into the Whitefish River. Afternoon winds made it a good day to stay on the ground, but by evening they had calmed enough for the short flight to Ryan Airport, located near the South Gate of Glacier National Park.
Tied Down for the Day
Montana Aeronautics Division Tractor
Creaking Airport Bikes
Whitefish Lake and the Whitefish River through Town
Ryan Airstrip
Ryan Airstrip is a slice of heaven—quite literally—it’s a small narrow swath of grass situated in a thick conifer forest within hiking distance to West Glacier. The Recreational Aviation Foundation (RAF) has clearly spent a considerable amount of time maintaining the strip and we were grateful for it. The amenities included a large pavilion with a picnic area and a tidy outhouse with a direct hotline to the FAA headquarters! Kathy and some other friends we had met from Idaho happened to be there too. There was even a wild huckleberry patch just on the eastern edge of the field, which made a great appetizer for dinner. It did attract occasional wildlife, which got our attention when we heard ominous noises in the trees--a stark reminder that we were deep in grizzly bear country. We had dinner and a fire together as we listened to the noises from across the runway and did our best not to spook each other with bear stories. Let's just say it wasn't the most restful night's sleep...
The Runway at Ryan Airstrip
Our Spot for the Night
Jo Setting up the Tent
Success!
The RAF Picnic Area and Fire Pit
And FAA Hotline in the Privy
Freshly Picked Huckleberries
The next morning we woke up before dawn and grabbed the courtesy car (yes, there was a courtesy car at the small grass strip) and headed into the park. With everyone outdoors this summer, the only way we’d touch a National Park was at off hours before the crowds showed up. Our first stop was on the tranquil waters of Lake McDonald. The water was glassy flat in the still morning air, revealing infinitely colored tiny jewel-like river rocks that had washed down from the peaks over the eons.
Lake McDonald Pre-Dawn
Jewel-Like River Rocks
Turquoise Glacier Water
From there our journey followed the turquoise blue water of the McDonald River and up the Going to the Sun road to the high peaks. The road is literally cut into the steep walls of the Lewis Range, cresting the saddle near Hidden Lake before dropping down the eastern slopes to Rising Sun on the bank of St. Mary Lake.
Going to the Sun Road
We Found it at St. Mary's Lake
We caught the sun at Rising Sun just as the general store opened thwarting a severe lack of caffeine that was reaching emergency levels. Caffeinated and satiated we took in the morning as we reversed our route watching the park quickly fill in behind us.
Florence Falls
Locals
By the time we got back to the airport the winds were ripping through the peaks, which would make for a bumpy flight. It was a sporty departure from Ryan to say the least, but I spent some time watching the field wind trend before we loaded up and took off. We did a quick loop over McDonald Lake above Glacier National Park and then turned south paralleling the Flathead Range over Hungry Horse Reservoir to the South Fork of the Flathead River and into the Bob Marshall Wilderness.
Sporty Departure from Ryan
(Calm wind socks at the surface with 15-20 knot crosswind at the treetops)
Glacier National Park from the Air
Meadow Creek Airstrip and the Bob Marshall Wilderness
Meadow Creek Airstrip is located on a plateau overlooking the South Fork of the Flathead and Harrison Creek. I set up a downwind over the river and landed south, which had a better go-around option off the plateau. It was sporty to say the least thanks to the persistent winds. Meadow Creek was another wonderfully manicured strip thanks to the RAF and National Forest Service. We set up camp on the southeast corner overlooking Harrison Creek and laid down for a siesta. Poor Jo was in survival mode from the bumpy ride.
Tied Down and Camp is Set
Siesta Time
Rested, we set out to explore the area. The trail down to the South Fork of the Flathead is a popular portage around the Meadow Creek Gorge, a Class IV-V section of the South Fork that is described as having "squirrelly boil lines, random surges, enormous whirlpools, and a swim of unthinkable consequences when the flows are high." Where we met the South Fork, the water was tranquil and as clear as a glass coffee table, and the only unthinkable consequence of a swim was the nipple-shattering cold water. The only way in was to jump in and get it over with all at once. I hiked upstream to a small rapid and dove off a rock. It was like smashing into a wall of coldness, some of the coldest water I’ve been in—and it was wonderful! Jo followed, letting out screams of her own as she hit, but after the initial shock wore off it was immensely refreshing. Somehow even our nipples remained intact!
Meadow Creek Gorge Trail
Montana Wildflowers
The South Fork of the Flathead River
The Water was as Clear as a Glass Coffee Table
Ice Cold
At dusk we heard the familiar sound of airplanes echoing off the walls of the valley. It was Kathy and Annie dog, along with a Super Cup piloted by a new friend named Andy. Dinner was Backpacker’s Pantry and soda pop; I had Sweat and Sour Chicken, while Jo enjoyed Pasta Primavera. I built a fire using a flint and tinder bundle as we watched the sunset with conspicuously less Grizzly Bear noises outside of the tent than the night before.
Dinner, a Fire, and Sunset
In the morning, the previous day’s angry skies had given way to calm and inviting air. We broke camp and departed to the south over the South Fork making a stop at Spotted Bear Airstrip just downstream. From there we climbed into the Bob Marshall Wilderness over some serious “tiger country” to the Great Bear Wilderness and Schafer Airstrip.
Spotted Bear Airstrip
Spotted Bear Landing Up the River
Schafer is located in a small valley at the headwaters of the Middle Fork of the Flathead River. I set up a downwind to land uphill, turning around a small hill and flying final up the river. After we landed a friendly park ranger named Emily welcomed us to the airstrip and to the historic Schafer Ranger Station, the latter being established in 1925. Schafer airstrip was grandfathered into the Great Bear Wilderness and is the only area within miles that allows wheeled vehicles (those being airplanes). All other work is done and supplies are ferried using horses and pack mules. As we landed a team of rangers were headed out on horseback to do some trail maintenance down-river. We hiked down to the Middle Fork and dipped our toes in before bidding Emily farewell and getting “on-the-wing” before the day heated up any more.
Schafer Airstrip in the Great Bear Wilderness
Landing at Schafer
Schafer Ranger Station
I took off downhill, following the river before making a 180 turn and climbing out upstream over another long stretch of tiger country. As we turned southwest it was quintessential mountain flying over the vast expanses of the Bob Marshall Wilderness. It’s funny how a pilot always seems to listen to the engine a little more closely over tiger country. I was glad to have a fully stocked survival kit, firearm, and a GPS spot locator onboard. The Chinese Wall loomed to our distant south, a massive rocky feature jutting up in the southern Bob Marshall. Soon, we left the Bob Marshall and crossed back over the Mission Range to Finley Point on Flathead Lake.
Schafer Takeoff over the Great Bear Wilderness
On the Wing Over Tiger Country
Hungry Horse Reservoir
Feet Wet Over Flathead Lake
Navigating to Polson
Final to Polson
Our next stop was Polson, Montana, a paved airport on the southern shore of Flathead Lake. Polson is a quaint resort town that is refreshingly less up-scale than some of the other towns in the area. We landed, topped off the tanks, threw the Frisbee for Annie Dog, who was there with Kathy and Andy, and then grabbed the old airport operations cruiser turned courtesy car for lunch in town and a dip in the lake at the town beach.
Annie Dog Surveiling the Airport at Polson
The Polson Courtesy Car
Beach Bound!
The City Swimming Dock
From the Air on Departure
It was a bittersweet moment, as it would be our last swim of the trip and the beginning of our first leg home. A line of thunderstorms was blocking the direct route to Colorado over Yellowstone National Park, with another line encroaching from the West over Southern Idaho. I plotted a course to Salmon, Idaho, from which we could pick a route through the cells and turn east. That took us along the Mission Mountains one last time and its spectacular waterfalls.
Alpine Lakes in the Mission Mountains
The Longest Waterfall
A few hours later as we neared Salmon, it looked like a there was a nice “sucker hole” between thunderstorms if we pointed to Driggs, Idaho. We’d also heard rumors of a newly opened RAF campground on the airport at Driggs. On the way the landscape turned from high mountains to the moonscape of Central Idaho’s lava fields under smoky skies from distant forest fires. I spotted the RAF campground from the air and landed on the newly finished grass runway paralleling the taxiway. Just like the other RAF spots, it was a wonderfully maintained campsite, complete with a pavilion and fire pit surrounded by Adirondack chairs.
Lava-Scape in Central Idaho
Driggs, Idaho and the Teton Mountains
RAF Campground at Driggs
The next day we were up by dawn, in time to watch the sun rise above the Teton Mountains to the east. We climbed out to the north, crossing the formidable boundary that the Tetons impose on the northern edge of the mountain range. That afforded us an incredible view as we turned south over Teton National Park and flew the eastern face of the Tetons at 11,500 feet, with the Grand Teton still towering well above us.
Hot Air Ballon at Dawn
Holly Lake in the Northern Tetons
The Grand Teton
The Snow King and Jackson, Wyoming
At the bottom of the valley we turned southeast and flew the western slope of the Wind River Mountain Range to the Cirque of the Towers. At the Cirque, we climbed up to 13,500 feet and crossed over the peaks before descending into Lander, Wyoming for fuel and breakfast. We took the courtesy car to a quaint café downtown for some much needed caffeine. The last leg home was a bumpy hot ride across the flatlands of Central Wyoming. As we crossed into Colorado, there were more storms building over Rocky Mountain National Park. I stayed east of the cells, but I did find some residual showers blowing out over the Front Range, which I used to give the Husky a much-needed rinse. We were wheels-down by mid-day.
Cirque of the Towers
Breakfast and Caffeine
A Free Airplane Wash in Colorado
Between Idaho and Montana, I flew over 30 hours and thousands of miles. We covered what would take weeks or months on the ground in seven days, chalking it up to one of the best adventures we’ve had yet. The Husky never let us down and easily delivered everything I asked of it—even in burley mountain air and short backcountry airstrips. This will be the first of many.
Ready for the Next Adventure
Ready for the Next Adventure
