South Fork of the Flathead
7 days of pack rafting through Montana's Bob Marshall Wilderness
Day 1 - August 4, 2022
We loaded up Josh’s truck in the dark and were soon zipping down Montana highway 83. As everyone caught up on sleep, I took the first shift and got to enjoy a spectacular sunrise over the tall larches, cedars and pines. As we drove the completely deserted early morning road between Swan Lake and Condon, the soft light revealed the high peaks of the Bob to the east we would be floating past over the coming days. By the time we rolled into Seely Lake, the only breakfast option open was a diner called Pop’s Place. Only after we filled up on coffee and pancakes did the boys finally wake up.
An hour later, we got to the Lodgepole Creek trailhead at the end of forest road 4388. Kelsey and Ben beat us and were taking a nap when we rolled up in a cloud of dust. We packed up as quickly as we could, but given that this was our first packrafting trip, it took much longer than expected. With packs totally loaded, the only thing left to do was drop an envelope of cash in each car for the shuttle drivers. Ben had located a local outfitter that was willing to drive both cars the 6 hours to our take out at the Meadow Creek trailhead near the Hungry Horse reservoir. While pricey, it saved our group many, many hours of driving and was 100% worth it.
The views got bigger and bigger as the sky opened up and the full extent of the burn started to become apparent. Off to the left of the trail, we could see Young’s creek continue to grow gnarlier and gnarlier with logjams, deep walls and big drops. While we were counting down the minutes we could get in our boats, all of us agreed that attempting that section of Young's creek would have been a death wish.
I thought I was in decent shape from biking and skiing most of the spring and summer, but the weight of the pack was just brutal. The hike from the trailhead to Young’s Pass was mostly completely exposed due to a large burn and by the time we dropped into the Jenny Lake drainage, we were beat. A small spring with a buffet of thimbleberries was a hard treat to pass up, so we took a long lunch break and a nap before we kept moving down towards Big Slide.
After a few more merciful stops, we finally crossed Young’s Creek for the first time at a wide shallow ford and set up camp for the first time. Although we were aware we’d be hiking through an extensive burn, we hadn’t accounted for just how hard it would be to find a live tree to hang our bear bags from. We ended up choosing to hang bags instead of bringing bear canisters on this trip due to the storage limits of our backpacks. But this is grizzly country after all, and we wanted to make sure we got this right. So each of us got to take turns suggesting progressively more ridiculous / ambitious bear hanging strategies using deadfall. Our backcountry structural engineering cosplay would have been much more rewarding had we not just spent the day schlepped packs with full food bags and our boats.
The evening’s paella meal and negroni cocktail program felt well-earned and no one was too upset when I slightly burned the rice. Everyone was so wiped from the day that we didn’t say much during dinner, instead, we felt content to watch the sun go down and the moon start to rise over goat and crimson mountains. We didn’t wait until the stars to come out because none of us lasted long before heading into our tents.
Day 2 - August 5, 2022
The alarm came too early for our second day of hiking, but spirits were high and we were excited to get underway. We hadn’t made our goal of reaching big slide for last night’s camp. When we walked past it this morning, we were glad that we hadn’t kept pushing and were grateful for easier water access at our chosen campsite. The trail crossed the creek a few more times and while we were putting our shoes and socks back on, we had the pleasure of spotting a freshly grizzly track in the sandy bank. One of my goals for the trip was to see a grizzly (from a safe distance), but unfortunately this track was to be the only glimpse we’d get to see on this trip.
After a quick bushwhack from the trail to the river’s edge, we worked our way down a steep sandy slope and finally to our put-in. While we started putting the boats together, I spotted the reflection of a trout nearby and pulled out the tenkara. One cast later and I was pulling in my first flathead trout! As a new fly fisherman, I was excited to get to throw a line into these wild and remote waters.
And then we were underway! After days of hiking, it was a treat to float on the glassy water. We were mesmerized by watching for bull trout and western slope cutties as they silently glided under our packrafts. We knew we wanted to get through the gorge before we camped, so most of the afternoon was spent paddling harder on the relatively flat water trying to make up for lost time.
Finally, the hills we had been floating past started getting closer to the river and we knew the gorge was getting near as the shores turned into walls. Things started getting splashy and we were rewarded with some really fun class II water. Unfortunately, we realized we were just a little too late in the season and often had to “boot scoot” our way through the rapids due to the low water levels. We still had a great time, even though Ben’s boat got away from him and we had to stop for an emergency patch.
We got into camp just a little later than we were hoping, and found a great spot river left just before the Young’s and Danaher creek confluence, which marks the origin of the South Fork of the Flathead. Since Ben had spent some time in the water, we had to get a fire going pretty quickly as he was having trouble getting his body temperature up. After we got the tents up and wrestled with our bear hang once again, Alex cooked his famous backcountry carbonara which of course was a huge hit.
There were no clouds and stars were incredible so Ben, Alex and I tried to capture the milky way before we went to bed.
Day 3 - August 6, 2022
Pure bliss today on the river this morning! Once we reached the confluence of Young’s and Danaher creeks, Josh and I took some time to fish a few holes and were immediately rewarded with some fine catches.
We kept floating and making good progress with less boot scooting than the day before. The clouds started rolling in during our portage of some downed logs around the Gordon creek confluence, where we stopped for a lunch break. After a trout-less lunch break, the sky turned very moody and we got caught in a rainstorm around river mile 92 . Luckily, it stopped pouring when we got into the trees and waited it out for 15 minutes.
Once it stopped pouring, we continued down river towards the Big Meadow work camp and ranger station. We had heard rumors that the folks who live and work there were super friendly, but it’s hard to overstate just how welcoming the folks at the ranger station really were. Right as we were walking up, a 15 mule pack train was passing through, so we got to see the whole camp kick into gear. The nicest ranger, Sam, showed us all around. It was a blast to see the quarters and get a tour of the barns and workshop where the crosscuts were stored and sharpened. Unfortunately, our tour was cut a little short as it started storming again. While we were tempted to wait out the storm and stick around for some more tang and cookies, we decided to press on to camp.
Mercifully, the rain stopped a few minutes before we came across a lovely campsite just downstream on the left bank of river mile 90. While the rest of the group enjoyed lounging in the sun setting up camp and drying out gear, I got back on the water and caught a trout to supplement our pad thai. As always, Ben and Kelsey served up a wildly tasty cocktail program with some foraged berries, vodka and agave. By now, we had all settled into a pretty good rhythm of finding and setting up our bear hangs and we were grateful that we weren’t forced to have a sad dinner hiding from the rain in our tents.
Day 4 - August 7, 2022
Ice on the boats and tents this morning. We were treated to a dramatic explosion of color sunrise as the light reflected through a bank of fog on the river. It was just a gorgeous morning on the Bob as Ben revived the fire to warm the group up for our coffee.
The paddling was so good this morning, and everyone was blissed out. We finally were making great time through gorgeous, wild country and the water was as beautiful as it has ever been. From the time we launched to our lunch break, I couldn’t stop staring at “the fruity pebble” rocks we were silently flying over.
Over a long lunch break near the confluence of the White River, we stopped for a swim. Although we picked a few wrong forks and had to walk our boats a few times, it was plain to see that the river had certainly picked up volume at this point. This was welcome news as all of our butts were sore from scooting across rocks.
White River is named for the white colored lime- stone rock that lines the river bottom and turns the water a milky white during high flow. Draining from the west slope of the Chinese Wall, White River is the largest tributary to the upper South Fork.
Our goal for the day was to find a nice camp near the salmon river cabin around river mile 77. We missed our shot a few times and ended up having to drag our boats upriver a bit. We ended up setting up camp on a bank above river left near the confluence with Big Salmon creek.
Since we got in early, we had plenty of time to explore the area and fish some of the big holes I spotted and was excited about on the float in. No luck this time. We did, however, see a pack train roll through camp on their way back to civilization from the Big Meadow ranger station.
Our chefs prepared a fine meal of Jambalaya and we chatted over dinner with our campsite neighbor, who was telling us about his adventures rambling around the Bob with his dog Sage.
Day 5 - August 8, 2022
This was our only planned zero day, and everyone was stoked to sleep in. We migrated down to a lower campsite since we were going to spend the whole day here. It was a little exposed but featured very nice river access. We walked down to an awesome swimming hole with a boulder big enough to jump from. It was a super fun little spot and I caught a good sized trout pretty quickly as well. We were feeling really lucky about our odds, so with all our extra time, Alex, Andrew and I built a stone oven for baking fish this evening.
The goal for the day was to hike to Big Salmon Lake and have a little communal 30th birthday ceremony together. It was a short hike and we stopped to eat thimbleberries along the way. When we finally got eyes on the lake, it was stunning. Mount Charlotte towered above like a three layer cake tilted on its side.
After an afternoon of lazy lake swimming and getting mildly sunburned, we hiked back to the river. In the late afternoon light, the canyon had totally transformed and we were all stunned and thankful to be in such a remote setting.
I didn’t have much time for fishing so I tried frantically to catch dinner. I went up river in the raft but ended up snapping my tenkara rod and the net in a rapid as it got sucked under the boat. Ever the gentleman, Josh let me borrow his (we were all very excited for fish after taking the time to build a giant oven). After 45 minutes of stalking a deep pool, I finally caught the cutthroat trout I had snagged earlier in the morning. It was a fight to get him in with the broken net.
We had an incredible fire in our stone oven that heated the rocks super well. Just as we put the fish in (with olive oil, and crazy Jane’s salt) I was trying to cut bows for the roof of the oven and sliced my toe wide open. This led to a pretty comedic scene where Kelsey had to help me out by wrapping my toe with gauze after the bandaid I first put on soaked through. Always travel with a nurse!
The fish turned out perfectly and was the most tasty trout I’ve ever had camping. Absolutely perfect and flaky. Even better, Alex used the oven to make a pineapple upside down cake he snuck into his bag and served with some secret cigars. What an X-factor!
Day 6 - August 9, 2022
What a gorgeous day of floating! Everyone was in a great mood and we alternated between cruising over deep pools and fun fast rapids from river mile 76 to 69. We didn’t have a lot of river miles to make, so we stopped to swim at a gorge with some awesome cliffs on both sides right after the confluence with Snow and Helen creeks . Everyone was in awe as we floated silently through this incredible section.
We floated under the bridge by the black bear cabin and immediately started looking for campsites based on the information Sam the river ranger shared with us earlier in the trip. I pulled into an eddy and started poking around and found an absolutely awesome site in the trees with great views of the river between river mile 68 and 67.
We spent the afternoon lazily chatting while sitting on a log, trying to nap on our upside down boats and reading. Eventually I pulled out the friendship bracelet kit that I brought as my own x-factor. Everyone got a kick out of it I think, but few bracelets were actually finished.
In the evening, Alex and I took the boats across the river and I helped him fish some of the boulders. We caught a few small guys but nothing warranting dinner.
Cocktail hour was once again agave juice and dehydrated berries with vodka and the Mac and cheese was so tasty. I was beat when we lit the fire and fell asleep almost instantly. Such a great day.
Day 7 - August 10, 2022
We woke up today knowing that this would be our last day on the river. Over the past week, we had made a little bit of a life together and all of us were hoping we could stretch out the last few river miles before we got back to civilization.
Although it was threatening to rain all day, we got lucky and didn’t get poured on. We enjoyed a short float through some spicy areas around river mile 63. No one flipped, which was unexpected!
After what felt like no time at all, we made it to the mid creek pullout around river mile 61.5. Packing the boats took less time than I thought it might, but getting back to the shuttled trucks was a total slog. Once again we found ourselves on dusty trails walking through the ghosts of burned lodgepole pines and surrounded by fireweed as far as the eye could see.
The final bridge near the trailhead allowed us to see into the heart of the Meadow Creek gorge, which was just stunning. From just that vantage it was clear that this was no section to mess around with, since the sheer walls meant you couldn’t portage or scout what was coming next and you would have to commit to the unknown.
Even though we had given our keys to complete strangers, we were pleased to see that both vehicles had been successfully shuttled back to the meadow creek trailhead. Once the backpacks came off, the car beers came out. Finally, the clouds that had been threatening us opened up in earnest as we were driving back to town. 3 hours on dirt roads served as a good transition between the woods and civilization. The rain washed (most of) the dirt off our cars as we ate an early dinner and some well-earned beers at Bonsai brewing in Kalispell.
During an internship in college, a co-worker of mine named Bobby casually mentioned that “turning 30 was like reaching plymouth rock after years at sea”. That quote stuck with me, and every time I start mourning the end of my 20s, I think about Bobby. There’s so much on the line when you are in your twenties: figuring out what makes you tick, how you want to shape your life and learning the hard way what’s not important to you. Trips like this one remind me that turning 30 isn’t the ending of something, but a beginning – a gateway to more adventure in the years ahead. And I’ve found as I start my thirties that I am truly looking forward to the next decade – I feel more at peace and have started to recognize that nothing in life (either good or bad) is inevitable – we all have the agency and responsibility to decide what gives us joy and to chase that with all we’ve got. As I reflect back on the last ten years, the most memorable moments came when I was simply spending time with the people I love playing in the woods together. All of us are just getting into our stride and I’m proud of how this small group of folks pushes each other to learn new skills which get us further into the wilderness. I’m filled with hope for the decade ahead and grateful that I can lean on like-minded knuckleheads to make sure we prioritize a life outside.