Perhaps it was bound to happen eventually. . .

After running 22 miles on the XC ski trails with Leanne, Iris and Callie, Leanne dropped me off at the "trailhead" for the trail that leads from Blacktail back to Herron Park. My thought was that I might finally find the "direct" route back -- the one that Jandy showed us last summer but we haven't been able to find since. If not, I would get some extra miles in which was in fact a good thing. Down I headed, not really bothering to make noise. I figured mountain lions would just be drawn to me and want to eat me to shut me up. The trail down is much steeper than I realized. Going up is hard but it's almost tougher going down. Spiders seem intent on building webs across the trail, which left me with a webby face. The route is beautiful though with views of Flathead Lake and the grander range across the valley.

Going up the previous time, we observed that the trail was marked with orange flags. I figured I would follow the flags and see where they took me. Perhaps this would be my ticket to the direct route down. Or at least a dependable route that we could use in the future. At one point there must have been a fork in the trail and the flags took me to the right. I began to realize that the trail was wholly unfamiliar and there were aspects that would have certainly remembered. Yet it didn't occur to me that I should back and take the other route. I continued on. Afterall, maybe this was the direct route back.

I continued on following flags until I left the USFS boundary. There was no question at that point that I was on a different route than I had ever been on before and that even the direct route did not go this way. This realization though only came much later. At the moment, I just shrugged it off and kept moving forward, following the flags of course.

The trail ejected me onto a road. Just then a truck came down the road, filled with bearded toothless men and their junkyard dog on the back. The truck stopped and one man asked if I was ok. I said yes thanks and he continued on. At that point I realized that the road probably went somewhere if there was a vehicle on it (as opposed to a logging road, which was what I was accustomed to). I found where the trail continued on the other side of the road and continued my descent.

Eventually the trail ended and I was in logging road-land. The land where gazillions of logging roads cover the landscape like a net -- except that unlike a net they don't always connect and they don't always continue on. They frequently dead-end. Usually at a pile of logging mess. I kept following the flags though, because obviously the route was flagged to somewhere. Somewhere that would certainly get me to where I wanted to go. The flags took me to a deadend. However, the flags seemed to go straight up the side of a very steep and rather tall hill/mountain. Straight.up.the.side. I stood for a long time staring and contemplating, before finally deciding in my logical little mind that the route couldn't possible go that way -- of course a horse person or hiker marked this trail and no way would they go that route.

I turned around and tried a bunch of logging roads, only to end up at dead ends. I quickly realized I was more or less lost. I called Ted and told him I was lost and didn't know when I would be back. I'm sure he just loved that. After getting nowhere slowly (amid my frustration I spent more time walking) for awhile, I decided the smartest thing would be to retrace my steps back up to Blacktail where I could call Ted to pick me up. Except I couldn't even properly retrace my steps and somehow ended up on a different and new logging road. This period felt like being stuck in a maze -- it was so incredibly frustrating I was on the verge of tears. I did not feel like I was in danger, but felt like I was in danger of being out there for a long time and of running out of food and water. I even imagined having to spend the night in the horrible maze. I couldn't even retrace my stupid steps. I was so lost. So I followed along (just going, nowhere in particular) and came upon some cool bear tracks.







Eventually I came to a locked gate, which I knew I had not come through. I was so happy because the gate could only mean one thing. A real road that actual humans use to drive from place to place. On the other side was indeed a road. A real road that appeared to see vehicle traffic, at least on occassion. I decided to take it up towards Blacktail, figuring it might be like one of the random roads we ended on this morning. Perhaps it would even save me the climb to the top of Blacktail and would take me to the main road that leads to the top.

I came upon a bizarre homemade contraption that made a stream into a waterfall and poured into a trough. Maybe a horse trough? Realizing I would soon run out of water, I treated and took some of this cold clear water. I felt like my luck was improving since there's really not much water up there at all. As I celebrated my luck, I heard a car coming. It looked like a normal vehicle (unlike the one I described earlier) so I flagged it down. The drive informed me that I was heading to Kila, which is a town about 20 or so miles west of Kalispell. The run would be about 15 miles he said. The other direction would take me to Kalispell. That would be about 13 miles. Yes he was heading towards Kalispell and yes he would give me a ride.

On the ride to town, I was gently reminded that I should carry a light and did I have matches? All those flags are dirtbikers who randomly flag their own little favorite routes. Yeah they're all pink or orange so they're all useless, unless you happen to know which ones are yours. No they don't usually really go anywhere. The dirtbikers start on this road I was on (Patrick Creek Road) and do not intend to make it to Herron Park. None of these flaggers were headed my way. But for some reason I assume surely they were. Hmmm. I guess there's a reason my lack of common sense has failed to elude comment throughout my life.

I rode with the nice man (he had infants in car seats so I figured him *not* a scary man) to his neighborhood which was about a mile from mine. I walked, bear spray in one hand, cell phone in the other, and gabbed with Iris and then Leanne while I walked home. I was worried that Ted was going to be super mad at me. He wasn't. Ted is almost always very sweet, and I think he knew I had learned my lesson.

So what did I learn? First, that despite being on the BOD of Foys to Blacktail Trails, the route from Foys to Blacktail is STILL a complete mystery to me. I'm going to go with Jandy again and see if I can get it right. Second, I should always carry a light, especially if I can going to be running long alone. Third, I am an idiot. Fourth, there are definitely bears up there. Fifth, I have no sense. Sixth, be ALWAYS aware of route in case I need to retrace my steps and NEVER take for granted the possibility of getting lost or maybe even hurt. Finally, if I don't know the route and have never found it in the past, the time to look again is not when I'm alone and not from the opposite direction.

Things could have been much more unpleasant but I got lucky and managed to get through the stupid thing with almost no drama (just a couple sniveling moments with near-tears). Funnily, I got 37 miles in which was more or less what I was aiming for. Above all, I'm really glad to be home.