Another
series of twisty switchbacks brings us once more down to river-level,
and the road forks. One branch promptly dead-ends on the banks of the
Missouri while the other poorly marked route drops into the deep,
washed-out, dry bed of Two Calf Creek before climbing back up into the
hills at a grade steeper than anything I've ever seen. With a sinking
feeling we realize that we must either backtrack nearly forty miles of
rough road, or negotiate the dry creekbed and scrabble our way up the
bluffs to the road we hope lies just beyond.
As Lorie walks ahead to spot me, I ease the
Westy down into the arroyo and we thankfully manage to avoid hanging up
the bumpers or bashing our propane tank on a rock. Clawing our way up
onto the plain, the gears growl and the drive wheels spin and jounce on
the loose and rutted soil. At one point I glance over at Lorie and,
through her window frame, it seems the horizon is tilted at a dizzying
forty-five-degree angle. Just outside, the ground tumbles away into a
deep and vast ravine that would easily swallow a thousand crumpled
Westies without so
much as a glance from anyone but the occasional passing turkey
vulture …
After a couple miles of this seemingly interminable ascent, we finally
level off and, with a sigh of relief, come to the junction with Knox
Ridge Road. One can turn southwest here, and return to Winifred via the
upper route, but we instead continue east a few more rugged miles to
the junction with US-191. As we make the final climb to the highway, we
meet a large 4WD pickup full of
local hooligans, and they stare
slack-jawed as we come puttering out of the rough backcountry in our
little "hippy wagon".
As our tires gratefully touch pavement once
again and we reacquaint ourselves with the higher gears not used since
leaving the highway in Winifred early this morning, we are happy to be
heading home. We have driven over 2500 miles, across the vast Great
Plains, over the high alpine passes of the "Crown of the Continent",
and seen hidden places virtually unchanged since Lewis and Clark
paddled and hiked them. But we are tired and hungry and a bit
bedraggled. Even our trusty Vanasazi is muddy and dusty and
bug-spattered, and she has a
thousand miles to go.
At Malta we rejoin the Great Northern Highline,
turn east now, and let the ceaseless westerly winds carry us
homeward …
Jeffrey Earl is not a travel writer,
but he plays one on the internet.
Text and photography by Jeffrey Earl © 2005
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Some Points for
Backcountry Travel
ROAD SURFACE: Though gravel for perhaps the first twenty miles eastward
from Winifred, the Missouri Breaks Backcountry Scenic Byway soon turns
to a loose and silty soil, which actually offers a softer, less harsh
ride than the chatterbumps, and is not especially difficult to drive.
But this dusty material will become a dangerous and impassable "gumbo"
when wet, sticking to everything it touches, clogging up the tires and
wheel-wells of even the strongest 4WD vehicle, and eventually bringing
you to a complete halt there in the outback. A local Leroy rancher we
met at Logan Pass highly recommended the Byway, but suddenly turned all
wild-eyed and shaky as he emphatically advised us to "get the hell OUT
of there at the first raindrop!" In addition to short-term forecasts,
it would also behoove visitors to check on recent weather conditions
before entering, to avoid any residual "gumbo pots."
About forty miles east of Winifred, Lower Two
Calf Road turns quite rough and begins a series of treacherous descents
and climbs, with hairpin switchbacks negotiating very precipitous
hillsides. Remember that when encountering opposing traffic on such
narrow grades, uphill traffic has the right-of-way.
VEHICLES: To be honest, a 4WD vehicle is recommended for this route, as
the eastern sections and many of the spur roads are quite rough. With
quality light-truck tires and some very tricky maneuvering, we were
able to pilot our 2WD Westy through the entire Byway, but I shiver at
the thought of an unwitting tourist heading into this area with their
Ford Taurus rental car …
SAFETY: This area is hardly more populated today than it was in the
time of Lewis and Clark; it is truly the outback. In the nearly five
hours it took us to make our way through the fifty miles of the lower
route, we encountered only three other travelers, and this was on a
Friday afternoon. If you drive in here on a Tuesday morning and get
yourself good and stuck, you may not see another soul for four or five
days. Be sure to have adequate fuel, water, and food in the event of an
unintended and prolonged backcountry stay. As always, it is advisable
to bring your own tow straps or chains, jumper cables, and fuel hand
pump, rather than expecting your would-be rescuers to carry them for
you.
Cell phones? Ha! If you can scramble to the top
of a nearby butte, you might manage to get a clean signal to make a
call out. Good luck describing your location to the reluctant tow-truck
driver.
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Day 14 Lewistown, Montana
