I’ve been following developments of the Island Unit (Blacktail Mountain) trail system proposal, at least partly for sentimental reasons.
We came to the Flathead when my dad was named commander of the 716th Radar Squadron at Lakeside in early 1972, after three years at Malmstrom. Wow, what a great place to be. The best stretch of Stoner Creek (the otters sure thought so) ran right below our backyard. Even now, jungle fishing in small, tight creeks for small, mean fish is still my runaway favorite.
When I’d had enough fishing, there were trails and roads galore to explore on my Killer Suzuki 80 trail bike: west all over Blacktail itself, north clear to above Lee Craft at Somers, south over Sewer Hill (past the “Officers, NCOs, and Enlisted Swimming Pools”) into Burlington where the loggers were always entertaining and friendly.
So today, picking my way over a knuckle-busting singletrack with the perfume of Castrol wafting along is another runaway favorite. I still think logging and forestry are pretty darn wonderful, too.
Dad and I made a pilgrimage to Topsite this spring, our first together in over 30 years. We were both impressed with the new ski area, and delighted to see Lower Site nicely kept up by the Christian ministry. “Gee, Dad, I didn’t remember it being this small!” There were lots of other memories, too.
But it wasn’t all good. Sure, old Burlington is now a trophy subdivision, but was it necessary to gate off the old pumphouse road and seemingly everything else?
Back in town, Dad and I agreed how lucky we were to have all the fun we did, because so darn much of that fun is verboten today, not just on Blacktail, but pretty much everywhere on the Flathead National Forest (FNF).
It’s common knowledge that timber is near death on the Flathead. But the FNF website shows how modern recreation opportunities have been equally devastated. In general, there are three main places OHV riding is allowed: “the Hungry Horse motor cross area, the Wild Bill OHV trail; and the ATV trail above Ashley Lake. Other riding opportunities include seasonally open Forest roads that offer hundreds of miles of roads.”
In all of the North Fork, there are five miles of trail at Cedar Flats open to motorbikes. How does driving clear up Marias Pass to Skyland up past Challenge, to unload your rig for 1.5 thrilling miles of 50-inch or 4 miles of road adventure behind a gate grab ya?
Fellow motorhead Shawn Baker related the ugly reality to me: The Flathead has 2,017 miles of trails, all open to foot travel, with about half in the wildernesses. Of that, 116 miles (less than 6 percent) are open to motorized recreation, and only 13 miles of that (0.6 percent) are ATV trails under 50 inches wide.
Worse, it’s only through the hard work of Baker and other local activists that the 10.3 miles of Wild Bill even exist today.
The proposal is to open or re-designate 40 or so miles of existing forest roads (oh, whoopee) for off-road rigs, and build 2.98 miles of new trail. Now, I understand that on the 2.4 million acres of Flathead National Forest, one can’t even organize a foot or bike race without someone filing a lawsuit. The appeal from Wildlands CPR (Center for Preventing Roads) and some useful NIMBY landowners was no surprise.
But when is enough, enough?
To their credit, FNF responded quickly to the appeal, dropping the “controversial” trail segments in order to get something going. And I’m glad the proposal firmly packages the Foys hiking trail with the motorized. Otherwise, Wildlands wouldn’t back off.
The doings on the Island Unit leave me feeling that, after 40 long years, the Flathead National Forest’s actual practice of multiple-use on public lands can’t get any farther from what Congress intended when it passed the Multiple-Use Sustained Yield Act in 1960. If things can’t get worse – in the future they can only get better, right?
I just hope I live long enough to see it.