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Show Page THE IlOR MARSHALL WILDERNESS By Ur. D. Keith Barnes Setting a consistent but reason able speed, distance rolls back with remarkable rapidity. Luncheon at Salmon, Idaho, revealed a community we didnt recognize as having seen four years previous. What stimulated its growth we never learned. The drive on an oiled highway over Lolo Pass into the Ritter-roValley defies description in sheer highway beauty. More people should see America from the Other Fellows back yard and a not from the restricted terra of an established community. ot fir-m- Nineteen riders anxiously awaitride ed the bus for an eighty-mil- e to Holland lake. With duffel and packs stowed in the stern and booted riders seated, we set our course through the beautiful Seeley Lake area, the beginning of our trek. Here we met the Joe Murphy family (Joe is the outfitter for the Montana Trail Rides) with lunch prepared not only for our riders, group but the twenty-thre- e Bob Dr. including Bitner, Layton, of the first ride. An August TIIE JOURNAL C ride through the trees and over switch backs to Upper Holland Lake was a delight to eight-mil- e all. The upper lake nestles in an ancient glacial cirque completely surrounded by dense pines a magnificent introduction for the uninitiated. The jingle of cow bells doesnt sound too much like Cathedral chimes but it is not an unpleasant awakener as the horses are brought in each morning. Four oclock may seem a disgraceful time to roll out of bed, but day light in the mountains has its compensations undreamed of by city folk. A five oclock breakfast and on the trail at six made it possible to cover the greater part of the ride during the cool of the morning. Climbing out of the cirque we switch backed through dense groves of spruce and pine, through glens completely covered with a myriad of varied colored wild flowers gentian, lupine, wild geranium, violets, daisies, bear grass blooms, paint brush, blue bells, pea vine, and many other nameless yellows and pinks including ja most delicate pastel blue flower we dubbed a wild pansy. Next came the delightful and colorful ride down the Big Salmon to the lake of the same name. The horses rested or browsed while we lunched on the upper reaches of the lake. The pack train passed as we idled away an hour rest period. The ride down the lake shore through dense but towering Larch and Fir was superb. Everyone was e ride tired from the (with three or four yet to go) as we rested at the lower end of the lake. Banks of gray cumulus clouds moved threateningly over head as we started for Murphys Flat several miles up the Flat-heaThirty minutes later we hastily broke out slickers and ponchoes as a gentle, cooling rain descended. Nature was indeed kind as its cooling effect revived everyone, even those who would have given up had a taxi been available. Fly tents had been pitched awaiting our arrival and within minutes the camp was an ant hill of activity. Differential sores and bruised knees were forgotten as bed rolls were arranged and duffels opened. Hurriedly the twenty-eight- -mile ts, twenty-five-mil- d. hardy ones were in the river shrinking off the grime of a long days ride. To properly initiate the Tenderfoot members a lightning storm broke in all its fury at midnight. Midnight thunder, crashing through your tent and reverberating among the high peaks and massive buttes is an awesome experience for the first time and just as scarey any time. Dotty had such wonderful luck fishing here in 51 she could hardly wait for breakfast to get started. Going down stream, dropping lures in known holes and changing flies to charm the wiley fins, I became conscious I was alone. The current was swift, the holes deep and the round rocks of the bottom well oiled. No place for one to be alone. I hurriedly retraced the shore line and found Dotty on a gravel bar in the middle of the river pride brimming all over as she exhibited her catch. Thinking she could reach the bank from her down stream position she started across. Half way over she stepped on a well oiled river and down she went. We both just hooted but with two hip boots full of water she was helpless. A real roller coaster ride bumping off rocks carried her down stream a full hundred yards before I could reach and pull her out. A laughable but harrowing experience we shall never forget. Even now bruises of palm size remain on areas not usually shown publicly. Bruised but undaunted Dotty continued to be the best sport in camp. ball-beari- JOURNAL weekly newspaper published in the interests of the residents of Davis County, at Layton, Utah. A Entered as second-clas- matter at s Layton, Utah, under the Act of March 8, 18TD. Published By INLAND PRINTING CO. Phone: Kaysville 10 NATIONAL EDITORIAL ASSOCIATION Natl Advertising Representative Newspaper Advertising Service. 222 No. Michigan Are. Chicago, 111. Subscription: $1.00 Per Year Payable in Advance. In combination with The Weekly Reflex, $3.00 per year. Lloyd E. Anderson Editor Manager Mary B. Bowring News Editor J. V. Woolsey Display Advertising Manager and urge that prompted this inaccessible homestead will soon be eas- ily recognized as another downpour occurred during the night. Twenty-fou- r days of trail riding and never once was camp made or broken in a storm. Tom Murphy and myself decided fishing several miles up stream would be better, so up we went not on foot but in saddles. Never before had I tried fishing from horseback. True, you lose many fish without a net but holes are reached not otherwise accessible. It was the most fun and best fishing of the trip. By now total strangers of a few days before were a congenial family. People from the East coast. West coast, Midwest and the Rockies met for the first time and found each to be fine, real peaple. The next three days were saddle days, beginning with a six oclock fording of the Flathead. A thrilling experience as the swift waters threatened to upset both horse and HILLEVI ROMB1N, erased completely. This wonderful mountain meadow has the beginning of Dannaher Creek bisecting its length. Rolling foot hills covered with grass meeting the lodge 21, a blonde from Upsala, Sweden, Is shown after 81 international beauties entered in the fourth annual beauty contest at Long Beach, Calif. She told reporters: I think this Is the greatest day of my life. Miss Romblns vital statistics are (International Soundphoto) the was chosen Miss Universe from among pole forest skirting it. Towering peaks form a back drop with DanTo the south as we followed the awesome sight but in the hemmed-i- n naher peak commanding. No wontrail one of natures wonders came confines of a mountain glen it is der the Flathead and Blackfoot Ininto view. Ages ago the east side really something. A lightning storm dians waged continual war for of the mountain, for some twenty awakened us during the night. One control of this magnificent game reservoir elk, deer, bear, goats miles slipped, forming a precipi- nearby flash started a fire, but the and sheep all winter here. 36-23-- 36. tous wall 0 feet high. Talus slopes connect with the glens below and the ledges form a pathway for goats. We were most fortunate in seeing ten moving northward on the various levels. Rock chucks whistled their welcome, birds sang with cheery song, and elks either bounded for cover or stood askant as we slowly moved past this Chinese wall. As we turned down a small stream toward Indian Point a heard of 150 rider. elk broke out of the' timber toward Majestic peaks stand guard over this primitive wonderland as we higher ground. followed the white river through An early morning ascent up dense stands of fir and pine. Most Ahorne Creek was delightful. of the trail traversed second growth Here, the clawing fingers of glabut the scars of annihiliation burns cial action revealed picturesque still showing on the slopes, after Pearl Basin. Alpine heathers, forty years. Early afternoon we red and yellow monkey flowers dropped down into a beautiful were now seen as we switchbacked meadow brushy park, about six across Americas spine. thousand feet. Again flowers were Unwinding the trail down the everywhere a truly beautiful camp slope of Camp Creek, we were met site. An early morning switch back by Forest Ranger Olson and two The National Geoup Larch mountain through the photographers. dense forest was delightful. Here graphic Magazine is making a the head waters of the white river study of the Forest Service activiwas seen to be a huge amphi- ties and included us as one of them. theater gouged out by an elephan- Some months hence we may be on news stands. d tine glacier. peaks seen, pictorially stand guard above the timber line. Fishing the Dannaher is always Just a short distance up the slope good even the swimming hole and the melting snow starts for gave up ten fish to Dotty and mythe Atlantic ocean. The Continen- self, while others dunked in the tal Divide the backbone of chilly current. A cloud burst any place is an Snow-cappe- The WINNER OF MISS UNIVERSE TITLE ng Montanas wettest July was G, 11)35 1,000-2,00- ! accompanying rain controlled any possible damage. Next morning it was still threatening and about eleven oclock the deluge came. Over an inch of rain in less than ten minutes. Sitting in a fly tent and seeing a bed roll float out from under a neighbors is seeing nature at her worst. Fortunately storms are over quickly and everything dries readily. During this storm most of the troup were riding up to Jumbo Mountain Lookout. Fortunately everyone had a slicker and a few hours later to tell a wonderous tale. re-turn- ed The cow bell chorus awakened us as the horses returned to camp. Frost was on the tent and clinging to grass and flowers, our first and only cool night. As is usual, the lowered temperature cleared away the storm and the rest of the trip was delightfully cool and sunny. Leaving our mountain retreat, we shortly threaded our way into the adjoining Dannaher Basin. Fifty years ago Tom Dannaher homesteaded a beautiful ranch in this valley five miles long and three wide. Nature has slowly removed any evidence of a ranch site with hillthe exception of a fallen-i- n side cellar and a most weatherbeaten remnant of a hay rake placed beside the trail. The hopes Climbing by easy grade through masses of blooming heather, we crossed 8,000 ft. Dannaher pass to the Blackfoot drainage of Monture Creek. By easy descent down the mountain side we reached our last camp on Burnt Cabin Creek. Day break saw us all astir, eager to be on the trail. A e ride hundreds of through years old Larch was a beautiful climax to a one hundred and twen- - . trek. Each rider enjoyed the trip in his own fashion, but everyone returned uplifted both physically, mentally and spiritually. When Dotty and I hie ourselves on a wilderness horseback ride, we are actually playing a game; in this game the antagonist is not the fish of the lakes or streams, the wild creatures afoot or in flight. They are the prizes. The antagonists are our own weakness of will, an inclination to give up, whether it be a washed-ou- t trail or foul weather; our opponents are Dame Nature and ourselves. We bring home not trophies but bodies toughened by hard riding in an exciting pastime. We recapture a few fleeting moments of our youth. The we love and are try-in- g to perpetuate encompasses a strong spiritual and emotional experience. It is a test of skill, ability, vigorous exercise and mountain lore. nine-mil- tree-studd- ile out-doo- rs ed |