Montana exploring is exciting

SAPPHIRE MOUNTAINS, MONT. -- Doug and Harriet Gossett, fishing friends from Maryland, dropped by to see how we were surviving. He's a commercial fisherman. They wanted to learn first-hand about the western waterways and the fishing.

Normally, I paddle my own raft, but Don McGourty, working out of Montana Fly Fishing Center of Hamilton, a nice guy and licensed river guide, had an available inflatable.

Experience shows it's best to engage experienced river- men when rafting with newcomers on wild western rivers, at least until they've had a little white-water time under their belt. White-water rafting is totally unlike boating. It can be dangerous; besides, having a guide means more wildlife-watching and fishing time.

The Bitterroot River was clear and beautiful. Don skillfully avoided the roughest of rapids, larger snags and overhangs that could quickly snatch one out of the raft.

Following shallow gravel beds with steep rocky undercuts, going over deep holes, skirting fallen logs and log jams, our passage was observed by deer, eagle, osprey and even an occasional fisherman.

The river banks adjoin dense forests of aspen, ash and willow that contrast against towering blue-tipped mountains gleaming in the late-afternoon sunlight. It's getting downright deluxe when your guide stops along a sandbar, sets up folding chairs, opens a bottle of wine and serves cheese, sourdough bread and buffalo meat.

Educational as it was, there's little more frustrating than hooking a 20-inch trout, knowing you must release anything over 18 inches. I decided my superior fresh-water fishing skills had not been sufficient to make a proper impression, so we decided next to undertake some high-country adventuring.

I've a prospector friend who while searching for gold located a massive blue sapphire in the nearby mountains. He suggested we take our guests exploring around the awakening ghost town of Philipsburg tucked atop the Sapphire Range -- where the mining of sapphire and emeralds reached a peak in 1890. This also happened to be the weekend that folks celebrate Philipsburg's history by holding an art and jazz festival.

We took the forest service road up Rock Creek into the heart of the Sapphire Mountains. Narrow, single-lane gravel trails encumbered with sharp turns, winding curves and steep dropoffs follow the stream bed, all the time surrounded by dense forest and overpowering cliffs. (Along the way, we couldn't help taking notice of a nice new pickup truck that had landed in the treetops below.)

Leaving Philipsburg, there's little choice of where to go but down. One road leads west, over Skalkaho Pass, about 7,800 feet, before descending along a single-lane road to beautiful Skalkaho Falls. Beyond that, it gets exciting, riding on a very steep single-lane road, without the slightest hint of a shoulder, carved into the mountainside some 5,000 to 6,000 feet above the canyon floor.

The first time I took Conni Swanson over this pass, she firmly announced that if she were ever expected to take that road again she would never leave Montana. Our Maryland friends were duly impressed.