Embracing Spring Access in the Big Horn Mountains

By Michael Pearlman, 5-31-09

	Looking south towards Black Tooth Mountain in the Bighorn National Forest.

Like the good weekend warriors we have morphed into, Lindsay and I stuffed the mountain bikes and the dog into the (somewhat) trusty Subaru for some fat-tire exploration on Saturday. We’ve now accepted the one-hour rule of thumb for reaching any trailhead in the Big Horns from our house: no matter how close it appears on the map, it’s not going to take less than an hour to get there.

So we drove out of the oppressive valley heat and into the cool air of the Big Horn mountains in our seemingly modest quest to reach Little Goose campground, located at the junction of two creeks a mere two-miles off the Red Grade Road that rises into the Big Horns from the town of Big Horn, population 198.  Red Grade Road is a snowmobile route during the winter and had only opened to cars a week earlier.

After reaching the well-signed turnoff, I was immediately forced to shift the car into first gear and start riding the brakes. We began the 5-mile-per-hour bounce down the rocky path of what passes for a Forest Service road around here and after about half a mile, we reached the bottom of a steep hill and encountered a water crossing so deep I couldn’t see the bottom.

This had happened to us a few weeks earlier at a different location and I’d backed off and parked the car. This time, I refused to bow to fear or reason. In a split-second, my decision was made and I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal. When we hit the creek, the wall of water cascaded over my windshield and obliterated our vision. The wave I created surged through the open windows of the car and for a brief moment I could have sworn my car was floating. A vision of my car being pulled out of the creek by a chuckling driver of a large pickup truck flashed through my brain.

I gunned the gas and we settled onto the bottom of the creek. The water level was above the bumper but below the hood. We had enough momentum to surge forward until the front tires reached shallower water and caught dirt on the far side of the creek. We pressed on, while I spent the next 10 minutes wondering if I’d done some form of engine damage that wouldn’t manifest itself until after our bike ride and we were ready to leave.

By the time I reached our destination, we disovered two more creeks that required crossing. The first we pedaled through but the second required another ford that wasn’t driveable or rideable. It was time to strip the shoes and socks and endure a wade through fresh snowmelt. Lindsay went through first and appeared to be near tears by the time she reached the other side of the knee deep creek. 40 degree water on bare skin feels like pins and needles after about 20 seconds, just about the duration of immersion the crossing required. I repeated the process twice, carrying with me the towel I kept in the car to dry my feet before putting my cycling shoes back on.

We pedaled and pushed our way up a steep grade before the dirt road we were riding flattened out into an open meadow. In the distance, 13,005-foot Black Tooth Mountain was visible. The second highest peak in the Big Horns is also the most distinctive, but the shortest approach is at least 12 miles from car to summit. Definitely on my “to attempt” list for the summer.

But its only late May right now, and as we made our way up into denser woods and climbed above 8,000 feet patchy snow began to appear. It was the second time in eight days I ended an adventure after being stymied by inconsitent spring snow. On Memorial Day, I spent seven hours wandering around the woods searching for a skiable approach route to Bighorn peak, another remote peak further south in the range. I wound up turning back after soaking my feet while wallowing through soft snowdrifts in a steady rain. I got back to my car that day without even getting a glimpse of the couloir I was scoping for a future spring ski trip.

Spring mountain trips bring hope of a summer’s worth of adventures, but frustrating traveling conditions. Our excursion reminded me that for reaching wilderness boundaries without motorized assistance, a mountain bicycle is a great tool. The rewards of reaching the beautiful country surrounding the high peaks of the Big Horns don’t come without a significant sacrifice of energy. The key is to accept the challenges that make uncovering hidden jewels that much more rewarding.

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