Solitude awaits on abandoned forest path

Neglecting to keep your home in good repair could mean it will lose value or, worse, become too disgusting to live in. Neglecting to check your vehicle’s oil might lead to a highway breakdown and an unexpected and uncomfortable night sleeping in the car.

But in at least one instance neglect may have its benefits.

This thought was literally bouncing around inside my skull last weekend. At the same time, my kidneys were also being repeatedly pounded while driving up a neglected Montana forest road. Cantaloupe-sized rocks, potholes the size of a pool table and mud bogs 12-inches deep littered the route and repeatedly jarred my truck’s suspension.

The road wasn’t all that had been neglected. In the remote valley the road led to trail signs pointed into tangles of branches with no evidence of a path. One steep trail was littered with deadfall. The campground had only one site with a fire ring and picnic table.

This lack of repair is understandable considering the Forest Service must prioritize where to spend its limited funding when faced with hundreds of miles of roads spread across this expanse of nearly 3 million acres of foothills, valleys and forests.

Here’s the good part: On a summer weekend, we had practically the whole area to ourselves. (Maybe the forecast of cold, rain and possible snow in the high country also had something to do with our isolation.)

There were signs the valley sees heavier use in the fall during elk hunting season, including torn up ground where horses had been tied up and a hand-built hunting blind overlooking a flower-filled meadow. But as yellow glacier lilies bowed their heavy heads and purple clematis blooms peeked out from graying spruce branches, most of the landscape looked quite content to be forgotten by recreating humans like me.