Misadventure with the Swan Rangers

My first adventures — be they in golf, football, snowboarding or driving in Los Angeles—have often been misadventures. And my first adventure with the Swan Rangers, last Saturday, was no exception.

Our trek began at Echo Lake Cafe, where founding member Keith Hammer and a handful of other members of the group decided to embark on a 6.5 mile bushwhack north of the Strawberry Lake trail, over the back of a ridge — two of them, by the time we were done — and returning to the parking area off Foothills Road.

The Swan Rangers are a group of avid hikers, snow-shoers and backcountry skiers who meet every Saturday at Echo Lake Cafe, on Hwy 82 north of Bigfork, to have breakfast and then head out on an excursion into the Swan, ranging in difficulty from nature hikes through the hemlocks to snow-shoeing in the Jewel Basin to summiting Mt. Aeneas or attaining some other lofty height.

It was to be my first ever attempt at snow-shoeing, and I had expectations of a good workout, coupled with enjoyment of nature, that would enable me to work up a sweat and relax in the great outdoors at the same time; but then, this was a first.

About five others joined us on our expedition, which according to Hammer, is pretty normal. Today, Don Gee of the Swan Highway, Joel Vignere of Lakeside, Inger Lemker of Norway — she now lives between Bigfork and Creston — along with Hammer and his wife, Pam, made up the bulk of the group. A couple of others headed home early, but I decided to stick it out, knowing that I had to get broken in sooner or later.

Fortunately, Keith is one of those people who can make even poor conditions seem more enjoyable, since he is always ready with a story about hiking in the area and possesses a wealth of knowledge about the vicinity and its native species.

The Rangers, Hammer said, formed in November of 2005 and have gone out every Saturday since, rain or shine — and pretty much everything in between — with the exception of only a couple of weekends when not enough people showed up.

Keith's largest group, 25, showed up at Echo Lake Cafe last August. With so many people, they decided to split into two groups.

Saturday's trip, Keith informed the group, was trip number 178. Trip number 200, he added, will take place in the fall — he was even able to supply the date, but I failed to write it down.

We decided on a bushwhack, which probably would have been a lot of fun, except for the heavy, wet snow, which had a consistency somewhere between a slushee and a snowcone.

I was happy to follow Keith, since any trail that may have existed was still buried. In fact, once we had rounded the first ridge, Keith took a turn up a gully that I would never have seen.

He, it seemed, with the help of Joel's GPS, knew where we were going. This was good, because none of the rest of us had a clue.

Up the gully we proceeded, until we reached the spot where Keith instructed us to climb. Let me just say that climbing in showshoes, if one were to do it enough, could produce calves of sufficient strength to rival an Olymic athlete.

At our highest point, we gained about 1,232 feet in elevation, having started at 3,280 feet and topped out at 4,450 feet. We rapidly descended back into the gully and climbed the ridge on the opposite side, which held a table of native plants and trees that Keith wanted us to be sure and see.

The elevation change gave me time to get to know the different members of the group a little better and share a little bit about myself. Keith, I learned, had worked with the Flathead Nordic Ski Patrol for around six years.

Pam provided some delightful conversation and informed me that she teaches home economics to grades 9-12 at Bigfork High School. She and Keith actually met through the Swan Rangers and eventually knew they were destined to be something much more than hiking partners.

I also learned that Pam is extremely practical. While Keith had been good to tell me what to bring, he forgot to mention gators, which meant that my feet were in ice water most of the trip. Fortunately, Pam brought not one but two pairs of extra socks for the trip, which she was gracious enough to share.

Every so often, I would stop to remove my hiking boots, wring out my socks and rub my feet between my hands in an effort to thaw them and restore circulation.

We even managed to tie down my pant legs, which worked for a while, until we started down that last ridge.

At that point, there was no keeping the icy snow out of my boots, since the trip down was a mix of skiing — yes, you can ski with snowshoes, but not for long and not with any kind of accuracy — sliding, falling and digging myself out. Upon losing my ski poles, Keith was even kind enough to retrieve them for me, realizing that in my situation the fewer steps I had to take the better.

I was comforted by the fact that even the always prepared Swan Rangers, who were all wearing gators, said their boots were now getting soaked through and I was not the only one with wet feet.

I could hear one of the other members of the group call out, "This is starting to feel like work."

Indeed it was.

I didn't get the pictures I had hoped to take, since I had to remain active in order to ward off hypothermia — that happens when you are continually pouring slushee into your boots. However, I did learn a lot, both about my companions and about the art of snowshoeing.

To answer Inger's question about what I learned—Inger is a former teacher, as well—I learned (1) that gators are an essential accessory when snowshoeing, (2) that wet, heavy snow is not ideally suited for one's first attempt at cross-country showshoeing, (3) toe warmers don't work under water, (4) walking on snow works better when its not in your boots, (5) "Always be prepared" means "always bring spare, dry socks," and (6) the Swan Rangers — if you survive the bushwhack — are a lot of fun.

When we finally returned to the parking area, where we left our vehicles, Keith extended his hospitality once again and invited me to his house to warm up. Actually, I did warm up once we got into the sunshine again. However, Keith was good enough to loan me a pair of dry boots, which also helped greatly.

In case you're wondering, the adventure was a good one, and I would recommend it to others. However, if it is your first, I recommend going sometime when there is either good snow pack or no snow pack, because the in between stuff can make for a fairly memorable misadveture.