Cascade and Big Sky

July of 2012 was the last time we were in Cascade at Aunt Cheryl and Tio Nelson’s house on the Missouri River. Lilia was 15 months old and took some of her first steps on the deck overlooking the river, I caught some serious trophy trout on the banks below the house, and Carol organized for us all to see my first Mountain West rodeo in the small Montana town of Belt. It was great to see Cheryl and Nelson again after motoring south along the eastern edge of the Rockies from Glacier. We stopped off to explore First Peoples Buffalo Jump State Park – which was super interesting and well worth the detour – on the way and rolled into Cascade to be greeted by a welcome sign plastered across the garage door (at which point the kids noticed Gramps Greg’s name on the sign and twigged that he was surprise visitor number two of the adventure!). Hugs all round and lots of cheers, it was so nice to be hosted for the night with great conversation, hot showers and lots of stories of the Youngs growing up in Montana. Our visit to Cascade was also very timely: it gave us the opportunity to dry out all our wet camping gear from the thunderstorms the night prior at Cut Bank! Nelson cooked us up a scrumptious Venezuelan chicken specialty for dinner as well as arepas for breakfast, and we all enjoyed being serenaded by Aunt Cheryl on the organ into the evening. We all slept very well!

I’d been talking up the “blue ribbon” trout fishing on the Missouri to Max for a number of weeks before our trip, telling him how I’d hooked into some absolute horses last time I was in Cascade. I was hoping the river would deliver during our visit… As soon as we arrived at Cheryl and Nelson’s house all Wild Man wanted to do was grab his tackle and head for the water. So, after we’d hung our wet camping gear the kids and I donned bathing suits and warm tops, and armed with a couple of spinning rods braved the chilly, fast moving Missouri below Cheryl and Nelson’s front lawn. My first cast was slammed by a good-sized rainbow, the fish launching itself into the air as it attempted to fling the hook out of its mouth (it was successful, unfortunately…). Game on. Lilia didn’t have much luck with more than hooking weeds – she has some work to do on the finesses side of things when it comes to fishing – and I couldn’t set the hook on the next two bites I had. But about 45 minutes into our adventure, just as we were starting to lose the feeling in our fingers and feet from the cold, I heard it before I saw it: Max’s drag buzzing and line squealing off his reel. Fish on. As I looked over he was struggling to maintain his balance in the fast moving river with a rod bent over almost touching the water, I immediately stuck my pole in my mouth and moved as fast as I could to lend a hand. He didn’t need much help except to hold the reel out of the water as the trout pulled it downwards, doing a remarkable job of wrestling the fish for a good 10 minutes until it was tired enough to gently pull towards the bank. It was awesome to watch, especially with all the hooting and hollering from Lisa and Greg above on the lawn. The thing was an absolute hog, a solid 20 inches/50 centimeters long, one of the biggest wild rainbows I’d ever seen. Max didn’t stop grinning for quite some time, he’s never going to forget fishing at Great Aunt Cheryl and Great Uncle Nelson’s in Cascade. And I have a feeling he’ll be able to count on one hand the number of wild trout like that he catches in his lifetime.

A lot of ski resorts these days try to capitalize on their chairlifts in the off season and run mountain biking operations during the summer. Max’s buddy Leif back in Healdsburg told us we had to stop off at Big Sky on our way through Montana, noting it was a cut above other ski resort MTB operations and a must do on our trip. So, after a wonderful night in Cascade with family we dropped off Mum at Bozeman International Airport and made our way along the picturesque Gallatin River to the resort. More Rocky Mountain thunderstorms greeted us as we arrived, and as our luck had it they came with lightning = no chairlifts spinning at Big Sky. We mulled about the resort, exploring the bike stores until the blue sky returned, at which point the three of us jumped onto Ramcharger and made our way up the mountain. I’ve skied on a lot of mountains in my 46 years, and I’ve seen a lot of different takes on chairlifts, but never have I sat on a detachable, eight person chair with heated, cushioned seats, a protective bubble and footrests. Talk about luxury. Big Sky was massive, with the towering peak of Lone Mountain stretching more than 11,000 feet above sea level at the top of the resort. Be great to experience it on a powder day…

The trails were a ton of fun, endless miles of berms and jumps as well as a bunch of technical descents to keep us busy for hours. And with the speed of the chairs we were able to explore an incredible amount of trail, given each descent was almost 1,600 feet of vertical. Big Sky is open every day during the summer MTB season, and the trails receive a lot of traffic. The chatter bumps into berms were pretty noticeable after being treated to the pristine trails of Legacy the week before, and we could all feel them taking a toll on our arms and wrists after the first few runs. We chatted to one of the staff on a chair about how big the Big Sky flow features needed to be to compensate for the steepness of the resort: Big Sky was designed as a ski resort (= steeper is better) while Legacy was put together with bikes as the main priority. Not to detract from Big Sky, but I think we’ll all forever compare MTB trails to those at Legacy…

Our fun was interrupted by some more thunderstorms mid-afternoon – which made for a good (forced) break of beer and french fries – but we rode until the resort closed, even Lilia didn’t want to sit out the last couple of runs with sore wrists from her short travel frontend. The showers made for some great dirt, tacky beyond belief, but the puddles here and there made for a pretty muddy end to the day. Our bikes were absolutely caked in sludge by the end of it and we all had dirt literally from head to foot by the time we made it back to the car. The weather didn’t put a damper on things though: big grins on every run, the kids were pumped on another day of no ups and all down. I was chasing Max down our last descent on the Happy Hooves flow trail to finish up the day, it was the first time I’d ever been at my speed comfort limit only to watch Wild Man slowly but surely pulling away from me down the trail, popping jumps off everything in sight and absolutely flying through the air off kickers as he left me in his dust. The role of sensei and senpai may be changing in the Valtenbergs biking ranks pretty soon… I should still be able to outpace him on skis given our weight differential, though. At least for another season or two, anyway!

It was a picturesque drive south from Big Sky along Highway 191 through Gallatin Canyon, along the way we passed into the northwestern portion of Yellowstone National Park and made sure to stop for a happy snap at the entrance sign. Highway 191 ducked into Wyoming for a few miles – state number five of the trip – after which we rolled into the touristy enclave of West Yellowstone. Such a hive of activity, with pedestrian tourists everywhere, more souvenir shops than we could poke a stick at, and an almost endless array of eateries along the main street. Max sniffed out a fly shop in short order, where we both spent some time ogling at all the $1000+ fly poles on display before woofing down a well earned pizza from the Wild West Pizzeria and Saloon.

Our last night in Montana was spent at the Rainbow Point Campground on Hebgen Lake just west of the Wyoming border, one of the few campsites I booked in advance given the our proximity to Yellowstone. The kids enjoyed a sunset swim to rinse off the dirt from Big Sky earlier in the day, after which we all tucked in early behind our fly screens to escape the insane swarms of mosquitoes. Lilia had to make PB&J sandwiches for the next day at lightning speed as she was being swarmed, the bugs were so bad I’m pretty sure there were some mozzies sandwiched in with jam by the time she was done!

A great trip through the state of Montana: incredible mountain biking, surprise visits from Lisa and Gramps Greg, reconnecting with family in Cascade and just so much natural beauty along our route… Onto Wyoming and Yellowstone National Park.