With the success of our Shakespearean trip in 2021, my family decided to give the Utah Shakespeare Festival another whirl in 2022. Jason and I opted to go a little early and get out of the summer heat at nearly 10,000 feet in Brian Head, which is only about half an hour from Cedar City. We sure did get out of the heat and then some. Here’s how our vacation turned into a deluge of water, culture, and conduits.
Per our typical M.O., we arrived in Brian Head just in time. On this occasion, just in time to hike 2.5 miles on the Manzanita Trail… or, more specifically, just in time to hike half that distance before dark and the other half not before dark. The Manzanita Trail is a mild path that runs along Parowan Canyon’s hillsides above State Route 143. While the highway can be heard and seen in sections, the trail feels removed from the road for the most part. If you want a quick introduction to Brian Head, this is a good track to take. You can access it from the Town Trail just where SR-143 intersects Aspen Drive.
Does this look like thunderstorm weather to you?
The next day, we were uncertain if the weather would allow us to do another hike, but as the threat of rain and thunderstorms decreased and shifted to later in the afternoon, we felt reasonably comfortable attempting the trek to Sidney Peaks. Sidney Peaks are a trio of small mountains that range in elevation from just under 11,000 feet to just over 11,000 feet. The Sidney Peaks Trail, which is a section of the Bunker Creek Trail, crosses a saddle between the South and Middle Peaks. While there are no official paths that lead to the tops of any of the peaks, Middle’s apex is easy to reach. You can carefully avoid stepping on delicate mountain foliage by sticking to rocks and gravel as you climb a final incline to its 11,060-foot summit.
By the time we left Middle Peak, we knew something was headed our way, but we didn’t realize its arrival was not just imminent but immediate.
From its zenith, we could survey all our surroundings. We observed a sky stuffed with unsettled clouds and rain off in the distance. Although the storm seemed a considerable space away, we still set about the task of heading down with a little urgency. The first claps of thunder ripped through the alpine serenity before we had even returned to the main trail. That’s when the sprinkles started too. Soon after, as the cliché saying goes, all hell broke loose.
Our rain jackets proved about as effective in this storm as they would be in a swimming pool.
The storm kept worsening at a rapid pace as it struggled to chug up the ridgeline the Sidney Peaks Trail runs along. We were concerned about the hunk of metal Jason had on his back in the form of a tripod becoming a lightning beacon, so we ran the sections where tree cover was nonexistent, or the thunder seemed particularly wrathful. Out of the 2.3 miles of main trail we had to traverse to get back to the trailhead, we sprinted at least half with backpacks jostling and sopping pants clinging to tired legs.
From Brian Head Peak, you can reportedly see both Nevada and Arizona.
The downpour escalated until we could barely see, and our shoes were so wet we didn’t even bother trying to avoid the large puddles and streams covering the path. Fortunately, the lightning wasn’t as plentiful as the thunder, and it never struck anything near us. The last part of the route, a downhill portion, looked more like a stream than a path as we sped through it. I felt certain floods were flashing in some of the surrounding hillsides. Sidney Peaks’ 5.25 miles would have been a mild and satisfying trek if it hadn’t been for all the effort required to avoid becoming lightning kabobs.
Although Brian Head Peak requires only a short drive to enjoy, Jason and I don’t recall making the journey during previous visits to the area.
After the rain ceased later in the afternoon, we rallied enough energy to drive to the top of Brian Head Peak, which tops out at 11,307 feet, and enjoy its 360-degree scenery while dodging yellow-bellied marmot droppings. We also drove a few extra minutes to the North View Overlook at Cedar Breaks. We did not feel inclined to do any more hikes since we were suffering from post-traumatic storm disorder.
We happened upon the North View Overlook of Cedar Breaks right as the sun was departing in a photogenic flash.
As we were heading out of town the next day, we discovered SR-143 had been closed since the previous afternoon due to a blockage of water, mud, and trees caused by a flash flood, an occurrence I had predicted. Fortunately, the debris had been cleared enough to allow one lane of traffic through the canyon, and we were able to continue with minimal delay.
I wish I could say we were done dealing with cloudbursts at this point in our outing, but that would be an inaccuracy. Next time, I will cover the rest of the trip and the rest of the deluge.
After our prolonged stint at Fort Missoula, we headed to Butte. What was our first impression of Butte? Historic, peculiar, unique, and in need of a little love in some spots. Butte’s past is firmly intertwined with the hollows beneath its earth. Butte has had at least 512 mine claims within its boundaries, and there are 10,000 miles of mining tunnels below the city. That’s the distance between Los Angeles and New York City times four. Like I said, curious.
As the Berkeley Pit is directly adjacent to Butte, street after street was slowly demolished to make room for its ever-expanding hole with shady tactics being employed regularly by the Anaconda Copper Mining Company to obtain possession of entire neighborhoods.
We made it to Butte with just enough daylight left to visit the Granite Mountain Speculator Mine Memorial. In June of 1917, a fire broke out in the Speculator Mine killing 168 men, mostly through oxygen deprivation. The mine was at maximum operation at the time due to high copper demand related to America’s entry into World War I, and working conditions were grim. Both factors contributed to the fire’s capability to inflict widespread wreckage. The Speculator Mine Disaster is the worst metal (hard rock) mining catastrophe in planet history. Its memorial was a sobering reminder of the substantial sacrifices made by regular folks to supply the resources we take for granted.
Fourteen headframes, the metal skeletons of dead mines, are still scattered throughout Butte, a reminder of the 225 mines that once operated in the city.
The next morning, we got up extra early to get a Butte load. We started with a visit to the Copper King Mansion. The Copper King Mansion was built by one of Butte’s three copper lieges, W.A. Clark, between 1884 and 1888 in Romanesque Revival Victorian style. While this 34-room manor was only one of the many he owned as the second-wealthiest man in America, he insisted that quality and bragability be maintained. Hence, the mansion was lavish and full of entertaining nuances, which our engaging guide was happy to highlight.
A viewing platform at the edge of Berkeley Pit’s toxic, 7,000-foot-long lake can be accessed via a lengthy tunnel through a hillside.
Following our tour, we stopped at Butte’s toxic pit to see the less beautiful side of mining. The Berkeley Pit is the remains of an open-pit copper mine that was active between 1955 and 1982. When the pit ceased operations and the pumps at the nearby Kelley Mine were turned off, groundwater began to fill it. Water levels slowly rose over the next decades until the pit’s fluid was in danger of spilling into groundwater and rivers. What would be so disastrous about a little liquid mingling?
The waters of the Berkeley Pit were much worse before the EPA forced a cleanup. They once resembled a metallic wine instead of an agreeable turquoise.
The pool in Berkeley Pit is about 900 feet deep and has a pH of 2.5, which is roughly the acidity of lemon juice or vinegar. It isn’t the acidity of this water that raises the greatest concerns though, it is its contents. The water contains high concentrations of copper, cadmium, iron, cobalt, zinc, manganese, and arsenic. In 1994, the EPA forced the mine’s owners to take some responsibility for their mess by requiring them to keep water levels in the pit below the protective water level, the elevation at which its water would enter the groundwater system- 5,410 feet. Why were the mine’s possessors so irresponsible about taking care of their hole to begin with? I guess the easy answer is “corporate America” and a shrug of the shoulders. One can only hope they will not pull further careless shenanigans with their Continental Pit, another open-pit operation that was opened near the Berkley Pit in 1980.
Mining deaths in Butte have exceeded 2,500 and the value of all the minerals extracted $101.6 billion in today’s metal prices.
As if that weren’t enough underground stuff, we later went to the World Museum of Mining. There, in addition to exploring an accurately reproduced mining town with 50 structures, we descended 100 feet vertically (10 stories) and over half a mile horizontally into an actual mine, the Orphan Girl Mine.
The Orphan Girl Mine operated until 1956 with zinc, silver, and lead being the primary minerals of interest. Its shaft extended 3,200 feet down, and we got to nervously dangle over it in a cage during our tour. Unlike most of the other underground mines in Butte, which could surpass temperatures of 100 degrees due to geothermal activity, the Orphan Girl was not hot but homely. It stayed between about 55 and 65 degrees throughout its many levels of crisscrossing tunnels. This made it popular with miners and pleasant for our expedition.
The Orphan Girl Mine once produced 600 tons of ore a day.
What did I learn from this tour, besides that it is possible for me to hang out in a mine without having a panic attack? Underground miners had, and continue to have, a tough gig. By candlelight, and later by carbide lamps, they had to perform detailed work and differentiate the color of rocks. FYI, in tunnel conditions, all rocks appear the same hue. They had acid water dripping on them all day and were susceptible to silicosis caused by dust inhalation. Plus, there was always the possibility of being crushed by machinery or a cave-in or being asphyxiated in a fire. Sounds glamorous, doesn’t it? It’s no wonder plunging into the earth was a daily source of anxiety even for experienced miners.
On average, a regular elevator moves at 430 feet per minute. By comparison, mining cages like this one moved at 800 feet per minute. It’s no wonder that 33% of Butte’s mining deaths in the late 1800s were from hoisting accidents
As interesting as Butte’s hidden features were, we didn’t just go into its hills, we also clambered over them. Big Butte, the remains of an extinct volcano that last erupted 49 million years ago, gave the city of Butte its name. We hiked the Big Butte Loop with an added climb to the top of Big Butte, about 2.5 miles total. The hike was easy, rewarding, and the last adventure of our vacation.
While a distinct landmark, this extinct volcano had little to do with the mineral deposits that made Butte a mining mecca.
We visited three areas of Montana close in proximity but divided by separate histories and geographical features. Hamilton seemed defined by its mountains, Missoula by its rivers, and Butte by its earth. We delved into Montana’s fascinating past through ghost towns, museum exhibits, and several tours. We also witness the continued unfolding of history at places like the Berkeley Pit and found awe in chiseled landscapes as we scaled mountains. There were many sad reminders of America’s history of prejudice throughout but also tales of perseverance and resilience. This area that wasn’t on our travel list or radar even surprised us continually with its singular places, curious narratives, and remarkable backdrops.
By the way, as food is of great import, you won’t readily find fine cuisine in Montana, but you will find plenty of excellent sandwiches, pastries, and coffee.
The next morning, it was time to leave our gorgeous spot in the Bitterroots and head to Missoula. On the way, we stopped to hike the 3.6-mile Barmeyer Loop. This trail climbs almost 1,000 feet to a rise above Missoula. While not nearly as scenic as the Blodgett Canyon Overlook, it provided a lovely introduction to the next stop on our Montana journey. It also helped us appreciate the immensity of the Montana Valley and Foothill Grasslands ecoregion as the hills in all directions were covered in tall grasses interrupted occasionally by trees, a significant departure from Utah’s scrub oak, aspen, and spruce-dotted slopes.
The Barmeyer Trail heads up Mount Dean Stone to an overlook above Missoula.
Afterward, we had just enough time to drive to and through the Bison Range before it closed for the evening. The Bison Range is an 18,766-acre refuge formed over a century ago to protect the American bison, a species then on the verge of extinction. Located in the heart of the Flathead Reservation, the Bison Range is now operated by tribal leadership.
When the United States was formed, 60 million American bison roamed North American. A hundred years later, only 541 were left.
A drivable scenic loop comprised of two roads (Red Sleep Mountain Drive and Prairie Drive) runs through the range with stops along route that include places to undertake short hikes. The entire loop is supposed to take two hours. It took us a little longer as we paused for a half-mile trek on the Bitterroot Trail. However, we were not able to complete the one-mile High Point Trail to the top of Red Sleep Mountain, the highest point in the reserve at 4,885 feet, due to the approach of closing time.
As one of the bulkiest members of the deer family, elk are always cool to encounter.
We were told at the visitor center that we would see bear on our drive. We did not. We were also told we would not see elk. We did. Additionally, we encountered white-tailed deer, pronghorns, and of course plains bison.
While consecrated options were much preferred by those with available resources, five miners were buried on a lonely hillside four miles from Garnet during the town’s peak.
The next day, after a visit to the Missoula People’s Market and Missoula Farmer’s Market, we headed to Garnet, Montana’s best-preserved ghost town. We were expecting Garnet to be interesting but found it incredible. This settlement, which boomed and busted with the mining industry between 1895 and the 1940s, left behind over 25 buildings, most of which are open to visitors. Kelly’s Saloon, Davey’s Store, the J.K. Wells Hotel, and the Garnet School were some of the more remarkable ones, but there were fascinating facts, artifacts, and structures at every turn.
Garnet was home to more children and married women than a typical mining community.
Unlike other ghost towns, at Garnet the goal of the Bureau of Land Management and Garnet Preservation Association isn’t restoration or replication of buildings but simply maintenance of structural soundness. Wallpaper is allowed to peel and reveal its cloth backing or gluey newspaper underside. Cabinetry is permitted to deteriorate and nails to rust, but buildings are preserved enough to allow guests to continue to enter them and imagine the life they once contained. This gives a sense of the passing of time while keeping the town’s character and stories intact. Stories like the one about the three secret compartments for gold built into the sawdust-floored icehouse.
Garnet had 13 saloons in its heyday. This is the only one still standing.
Even with all the history and architecture we witnessed at Garnet, Jason seemed most enthralled by the outhouses, which remained as prolific in the settlement as they ever were. He found it particularly entertaining that almost all of them had dual holes with no dividers between giving “bathroom buddy” a whole new meaning.
Jason had to peek in every outhouse even though they all looked about the same inside.
We wandered around Garnet for about three hours before crossing the road to the Sierra Mine Loop Trail. This 1.2-mile path chronicles the area’s extraction history and the processes of gold mining. From mining equipment, dump piles, prospecting pits, log-lined mine shafts, and boom cranes, this route was captivating. The Sierra Mine produced 45 pounds of gold, 100 pounds of silver, and 7,500 pounds of copper between 1872 and 1916 with another brief opening in the 1930s. We humbly roamed this quiet landscape once full of hardy men, growling machinery, hazardous pits, and hopes for wealth. The men may have been gone, but much of their gear, channels, and hopes still lingered.
Those watching over Garnet aren’t trying to erase the passing of time but just keep buildings safe to enter.
Before leaving Missoula the following day, we made what we thought would be a relatively quick stop at the Historical Museum at Fort Missoula. Online, visitors said they spent about an hour and a half there. We spent four. How you wonder? I wonder how anyone could not.
Davey’s Store was built sometime before 1898.
The museum’s main building features a permanent exhibit on the history of Missoula and three changing exhibits. We perused just the permanent portion and briefly explored one of the temporary ones, Fire Call! A History of US Forest Service Back Country Communications. All this took an hour and a half. Where did we spend the other 2.5 hours? The museum also operates a 32-acre swath of land strewn with 19 buildings, milling equipment, a steam-powered mill, train cars, and other artifacts relevant to Missoula’s past. These absorbed the rest of our time.
This was once one of the finest homes in Garnet as it was built from vertical boards instead of logs.
Many of the buildings at Fort Missoula are original to the location like the Quartermaster’s Root Cellar, Quartermaster’s Storehouse, and Noncommissioned Officer’s Quarters. Others were moved there. These include a tipi burner, a L4 lookout tower built in the 1930s by the Forest Service to watch for forest fires, and the St. Michael Church, a wooden structure built in 1863.
By 1917, somewhere between $950,000 and $1,400,000 of gold had been mined in the Garnet area.
Beyond the buildings, two train cars proved noteworthy. One was Willamette Locomotive #7, the oldest surviving Willamette locomotive in the United States. It was featured in the 1954 movie Timber Jack! The other was the “Lumberman’s Library.” This was the only library train car ever created for sawyers. During the early 1900s, it traveled from lumber camp to lumber camp with a live-in librarian. Even with its thousands of books, 25% were typically checked out at any given time and did much to improve sawyer satisfaction.
Based on the amount of extracted rock surrounding this water-filled mine shaft, just one of many like it near Garnet, its depth is estimated to be between 50 and 100 feet.
Some parts of Fort Missoula were a disheartening reminder of the prejudice and paranoia common in America’s past. The fort contains some of the most intact World War II interment structures in the country. It has three original barracks, guard towers, a loyalty hearing courtroom, and a post hospital. Over 2,000 men were confined at the fort during the war under the Department of Justice. Unlike many other WWII camps, most of those interned at Missoula were not American citizens but Japanese men living in the United States denied citizenship because of the Naturalization Act of 1870. This act prohibited all those who weren’t of white or African descent from attaining citizenship. You may be scratching your head in disbelief at this point, but this crazy law was even upheld by the Supreme Court.
During our visit, we learned the Japanese men detained at Fort Missoula had an average age over 60. They were established members of their communities with families, which I guess the government thought made them more of a threat. Not all the inhabitants of the internment camp were Japanese though. A large group of young Italian sailors and entertainers, who happened to be in America when the United States entered the war, were also filed through Fort Missoula.
Fort Missoula contains three wood barracks built in 1940 as part of the Alien Detention Center to house Italian and Japanese men.
American history is such a mixed bag. This nation has accomplished marvelous feats of innovation and propagated revolutions of ideology. It has survived numerous identity crises and civil strife. Nonetheless, our land has fallen short under modern scrutiny as our story is stained by colonization, slavery, bigotry, and xenophobia. Yet, there is something powerful in the idea of America. American denotes no ethnicity but simply a faith in democracy and a dream for a better life. I hope and believe, despite the embarrassing and discouraging parts of our past, we as a nation can still overcome. After those somber reflections, we continued to Butte.
For the most part, Missoula wasn’t a destination in of itself, but it was a great base from which to seek nearby adventures. We filled our days with those and then moved on to Butte. Butte was one of the most unusual cities I’ve ever visited. In my next post, I will share why.
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