Although Jacob was born in Montana and spent most of his growing-up and early twenties here, there were many areas that he hadn't heard about; or had heard about but not seen, like Natural Bridge State Park.
In early October of last year, he suggested that we check it out in attempt to pull me from my premature sadness that the mountains I had come to know and love would soon be inaccessible to me. October can be an odd time of year in Montana. There have been years where I was still running around in tank-tops and flip-flops:
(October, 2015)
...or there have been years like this one where it snowed all day on September 30th. October for hunters means deer and elk coming down from the higher elevations, but October for non-sub-zero-tent campers means the end of the season, and October for hikers means unpredictable weather and more active wildlife. Thankfully, last October (2017) was what it should be - a gentle easing into the fall, followed by a relatively unremarkable winter, and it all started for us at Natural Bridge near McCleod, Montana.
Water going in...
A couple of milestones were made on this (short) hike: 1) Zoey carried the backpack full of water (and maybe a beer or two for Mom and Dad) the entire way without complaining; and 2) Holden wasn't - or didn't ask to be - carried the entire trail. And since this wasn't anything too steep, long, or rocky, it was also the first time that Louis ventured onto the trail with us.
The shadow makes it a little difficult to see the sheer rock face that makes this canyon. It's just vertical enough and just high enough to be a popular place for practicing rock-climbing. Or so I've seen on Instagram.
Water goes out...
Yup, just lookin' over the edge while Mom is a good five-feet away and breathing heavily. Admittedly, this was not my most favorite place because the edges blend in quite nicely, and where giant rocks are, they aren't certain to remain. In fact, the park issues a stern warning that walking around on the actual natural bridge is not recommended because parts of it could give way at any moment, depending on the time of year that you're deciding to take your life in your hands. But, being the enormous nature-hypocrite that I am, when we went back this last summer (2018), we walked around on the bridge and I got closer to a ledge than I ever have before, and on purpose.
My fear of heights is still rather insane, and I have no desire to do any sort of conquering of any of my fears any time soon; you won't find me holding a butterfly or a bird, either. But my ever-increasing desire to see more and more things now brings me closer to edges than I ever thought I'd be outside of my re-occuring nightmares.
Yes, now I *give* myself re-occuring nightmares but that somehow makes it better.
Walking the opposite way back down the trail to see the canyon and bridge from the other side.
A steep, grassy mountain side, yes. The place where we stood to see the water coming out of the Natural Bridge, also yes.
From this trip to the start of January, I was sure each hike was going to be our last. As it happened, our longest stretch of not venturing into the woods was from January until April, and we even got snowed-out of our hike on June 9th.
This last summer - 2018 - after knowing how much fun all of this roadtripping could be, we snagged every opportunity we could to get away, even if it wasn't very far, or for very long. Luckily, Natural Bridge was close enough and cool enough and out-of-cell-phone-service enough that we went back this last summer and spent the night.
First of all, finding a camping spot in Montana is a BITCH. But after so many trials and errors - and a couple of times setting up camp in the dark - we think we're getting a handle on the situation. Numero Uno: hunt for campsites Sunday morning and you'll get the cream of the crop. On our way to this realization, we thought that simply getting there early would be sufficient, and it kind of was. We found a camping spot, and a good one, but it took some work, and was ominously-named Hell's Canyon Campground.
First of all, finding a camping spot in Montana is a BITCH. But after so many trials and errors - and a couple of times setting up camp in the dark - we think we're getting a handle on the situation. Numero Uno: hunt for campsites Sunday morning and you'll get the cream of the crop. On our way to this realization, we thought that simply getting there early would be sufficient, and it kind of was. We found a camping spot, and a good one, but it took some work, and was ominously-named Hell's Canyon Campground.
This was our second time camping this summer, and it was in a more primitive campground than what we were used to, but it was fun. Holden liked gathering kindling for the campfire, and there are no pictures of Zoey because she was always running around pretending to be a horse or a Unicorn (oh, believe me, there *is* a difference...).
We set up camp then drove back to the Natural Bridge State Park. We walked the same trail as in 2017, only on this part:
The kids and I walked down to the bottom, where the water pooled then drizzled through the canyon.
It was very cool, but ultimately not a good idea, and not really worth it. That hillside kicked our asses.
Yes, that is dirt on my teeth.
We went back to our campsite, ate dinner, and told ghost stories, which meant that I tried to make Hansel and Gretel sound as horrifying as possible.
Campfire vibes.
But in a very non-Hansel-and-Gretel-twist, I ended up being the most scared since I woke up around two in the morning to someone walking around our campsite. No, not a someTHING, a someONE. I was the only one awake and was thisclose to shouting, "WHO'S THERE AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!" when Louis woke up, jingled his collar jewelry, and I heard the footsteps attempt to quietly retreat. This is how I know it was a person and not an animal. Jacob woke up only a few seconds later because he had to use the bathroom, but I was actually shaking. We went to the bathroom together and I was more scared of what person could be walking the woods in the pitch dark than any animal I might come across. If I really let my imagination run wild, I reach Louis-saved-our-lives-that-night level of dramatics, when it's just as possible that it was the Park Ranger we spoke to earlier in the day making sure our campfire was out cold. Regardless, the memory of this is what kept me awake most of the night on our final camping trip of the season to the Badlands.
We are very interested to see what the Natural Bridge looks like when it has water raging over top of it, and for that we'll most likely need to go in the Spring or early Summer, and maybe see if those rumored kayakers who go over the top (or through? I'm not entirely sure) are real. But with our never-ending list of places to visit, we'll tuck this one away for when we need a quick jaunt to remind us that, "Where water is boss, the land must obey."
