Humankind(ness) and Misadventures in Montana

Huge pyrocumulus (fire) clouds were building in the west. Our backpacking group had been separated. We had no communication with each other or the outside world since we were in the middle of the Bob Marshall Wilderness in Montana.

Three days before, six friends started our annual backpacking trip. Spending time in that Montana area was a dream of my friend, Dan, who had fond memories of hiking decades ago with his family. Another friend, Leo, brought two pack horses so we did not have to carry all our gear in our backpacks. The route was planned without thinking about getting current information about trail conditions in this Forest Service area.

Unfortunately, trails were not in good condition. The second day we encountered down trees that made horse travel prohibitive. Plan B was to split up (never a good idea!) with Leo taking the horses on a different trail than planned. We agreed to meet a day later at a determined place on the map. We hikers, however, found walking to be a challenge due to downed trees and overgrown trails. We didn’t get to the designated rendezvous area and were unable to meet Leo the next day as planned.

By noon the third day, the billowing fire clouds were obvious. We had no idea where Leo was. We could smell the smoke faintly, but the fire was some distance away. We settled down for the night. The next morning a ranger on horseback told us we had to evacuate immediately. He assured us that we would not have problems making the 12-mile hike back to our cars and the horse trailer, if we left straightaway.

The trail parking lot was to be used as a staging site for the firefighters. We had our car keys but realized at the trailhead that we could not find the keys for the truck and horse trailer.

Augusta, MT was the closest town an hour’s drive away. It was flooded with wildland fire fighters gathering to prepare for their onslaught on the fire. The one hotel in town was closed. The local park where we wanted to camp was reserved for firefighters.

We explained at the Forest Service office in Augusta that we had no idea where our friend was and that we needed to get the trailer out. Fortunately, a backcountry ranger had radioed to say he had encountered a man with three horses and advised him to head to an exit in the far north part of the wilderness area. With phone service, we learned from Leo’s brother where the spare truck key was hidden in a secret place in the trailer. We convinced the county sherif to escort Dan back to get the truck and trailer.

He returned at 11 pm. We had been hanging out at a local bar/restaurant/pizza place-the only one in town. We had no idea where to spend the night. Hearing our situation, the young woman who was working and in the process of purchasing the bar offered to let us park our cars and sleep in the driveway where she lived in her double wide trailer. When Deb and I got there, she insisted that the two of us sleep in her spare room. She handed us towels and asserted we would be refreshed after a shower. We did not want to impose but welcomed her generosity after a long frightening day and evening.

The next morning, the young woman left early to cook for the firefighters. We stopped by to thank her again, but a line of firefighters was outside the restaurant door waiting to get fed. We waved goodbye and left to take the 3-hour drive to meet Leo.

I think often about his young woman’s example of humankind(ness).  I appreciate the compassion expressed to me and my friends by this stranger during one chaotic misadventure in Montana. I hope that her life has been blessed. I will not forget the humanity she showed to us.