A Historical Journey through Bob Marshall Country

It had been a long day on the trail in 1996 as I slowly worked my way toward the top of the ridge clearing downfall from the trail. When I reached the top of the ridge, the land opened up and the views were especially beautiful as the late evening sunshine cast a golden hue across the landscape. Overhead, a few reddish, wispy clouds contrasted the deep, cobalt blue sky. A nearby hermit thrush began its melodic song.

I was less than a hundred yards from a trail intersection that would lead me to my camp. I came around a slight bend in the trail and to my dismay, found a large whitebark pine tre...