An Exhausting Trek to an 8,000-foot Peak, and the Protein Needed to Get There

It was one of those check-the-box quests for Lori. She wanted to climb to the top of Ch-paa-qn Peak (formerly Squaw Peak). For me, I'm always up for a good outdoor adventure.

Ch-paa-qn (pronounced Cha-pa-kin) means "shining peak" in Salish, indigenous people who live in the northwest portion of the United States and Canada. It stands out from others around it because it's above the timberline, is visible from both the Mission Valley to the Missoula Valley and is the highest peak in the mountains just above our house in the Frenchtown Valley. 

Advertised as a moderate hike by the U.S. Forest Service, it's about three miles from the trailhead to the peak so we thought that's something we could bang out rather quickly on an early June morning and be back home just afternoon. Boy, were we wrong! 

It certainly was a pretty hike as the trail wound through the surrounding timber gaining altitude toward the peak. And there's nothing like the smells of a pine forest. As we crossed the first mile, it was cool to see patches of snow along the edge of the trail. Snowpack is always key to the health of mountain vegetation as well as to the rivers and streams, and the fish populations in them, below since they're fed by snowmelt. Unfortunately, our hike would become a lesson in late-season snowmelt.

Lori and I had to tiptoe our way through those patches of snow as they started to overtake the path because we wanted to keep our footwear dry. We thought we were in the clear after a couple hundred yards of dodging snow when the paths became waterways. Again, we hopped, straddled and jumped our way to trying to stay out of the water. By now, it was futile. My hiking boots and Lori's shoes were pretty soggy. 

Not even halfway to our destination, the trail turned exclusively to snow, and the worst kind of snow at that. It was anywhere from a few inches to several feet deep so here was no avoiding or going around it. While the snow was frozen and solid in places, it was rather wet and slush-like in others. As we gingerly walked on top of the snowpack, it often gave way and our footing dropped anywhere from six inches to 16 inches. The bottom line is our hike turned into a slog fest, and an exhausting one at that. We considered turning back but hey, we were more than halfway there and our feet were soaked, so we just keep going.

The trail ends several hundred yards below the peak. To reach the summit, you have to make your way across a scramble of shale and large rocks and boulders. By now, it was after noon and we were hungry, really hungry, so we found a downed log and pulled out lunch. 

You can see the peak above the treeline

Our lunch time view

He said: It's always nice to be surprised at meal time. I prepared my own lunch so I really was surprised what I found. Also this spring, my work at the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation hosted a series of events to celebrate its 40th anniversary. One of those was a luncheon featuring bacon-infused elk smashburgers. Not all of the meat was eaten so work sent out an all-call email notifying employees the leftover meat, still raw, was available on a first-come, first-serve basis. When I made it to the downstairs breakroom, there were still five bags of meat so I grabbed one of them and grilled them up a few days later.

So what was so surprising several hundred feet below Ch-paa-qn Peak? As I pulled out my sandwich-making ingredients, what I thought I'd pulled from the freezer earlier that morning and placed into my backpack was not one lone elk smashburger patty but two of them pressed together. Like I said we were both really hungry, even "haingry" from the grueling hike, so I loved having the unexpected double dose of protein. My burger featured multi-grain bread, two pieces of cheese, the two elk patties, pickles, banana peppers and a mixture of mustard, ketchup, barbecue sauce and Chick Fil-A fry dipping sauce. Man oh man, talk about hitting the spot! And oh so needed, too. 

She said: I've tried not to eat bread for years. Maybe a Texas Roadhouse roll might get me to make an exception. But sandwiches....well, they've never really called my name. (Sidenote: During my son's first semester of college, he and his roommate had a sandwich-eating competition. Not all at one time. Over the course of the semester. You know breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He must have gotten that desire-to-eat-sandwich-gene from his father.) A sandwich seems like a practical picnic choice. Not for me. I've also been trying to live a more vegetarian lifestyle. I still eat meat. I enjoy meat. I'm just trying to reduce my consumption. All that preamble, to explain why I took a chickpea lettuce wrap on my hike to Ch-paa-qn Peak. And boy was I glad I did. When I left the house that morning, I thought I'd be back by 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon. I thought, "If I'm still hungry, I'll definitely be able to fill up then." I'm so grateful for the protein from the chickpeas.  I needed nutrition for multiple reasons. The hike was hard and I needed sustenance. The hike was hard and I needed a reason to sit down and dine. The hike was hard and I needed comfort food. Other comfort food that managed to make the sack that day was grapes--a literal staple for my taste bud pleasure--and some protein balls. You know...oatmeal, almond butter, chia, flax, honey, chocolate chips. Boy, was I glad I had those too. And water...didn't take enough of that either...but who'd have thought...so much snow to help us stay hydrated. Next time I do that hike, I hope I think to pack a lumberjack sack lunch. If there is a next time...

What else: We sat and chatted during lunch as we enjoyed the view. But we still had one decision to make? Did we want to call it good or hike straight up to the top of the peak? Replenished by the much-needed meal, up we went. Much like elk hunting in the fall, my mind kept saying, “Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Up and up and up we climbed, past barren old dead trees that reminded me of the enchanted forest in the Wizard of Oz. Eventually, we ascended the final crest and what did we see? Two goats! True enough, a man led two goats wearing halters off the peak followed by his son and daughter. We didn’t expect to see that.

Once atop the peak, we were the only ones there. And what an amazing panoramic 360-degree experience on a bluebird weather kind of day! We could see from Alberton to Lolo Peak to Missoula to the Mission Valley, including the National Bison Range and the towering Mission Mountains beyond, to Polson and Flathead Lake. The only thing we could not see was our house or the small town where we live because smaller mountains below us blocked the view. Still, it was a breathtaking way to take in one of the most beautiful parts of Montana.

180 degree view

We took photos, created our own cairns and just plain took it all in for at least half an hour. I even found one rock I took home as a souvenir because it looked like, well, it looked like Montana.

Still, we knew we had a long way to go to get back to my truck at the trailhead so down the mountain we went. This time, we took a shorter, more direct route. When we dropped back into the forest, we eventually came across the snow-covered trail. Unlike the way up, we were no longer worried about keeping our shoes and feet dry.

Unfortunately, the heat of the day combined with the number of people who came behind us on the trail earlier in the day, caused the snowpack to be less stable than before. Time and time again, our feet dropped six inches, a foot or even up to our knees as we made our way down the mountain. Remember that earlier reference to two big upsides of the snow? The second was getting handful after handful of it on the hike out as a way to keep our bodies cool and hydrated.

Though quite laborious, each step got us closer to the truck. Eventually, we left the snowfield behind us, splashed our way down the water-filled trail and made it back to the trailhead.

In all, what we thought would be an easy there-and-back trip covered more than seven miles and took more than six hours. We came, we saw, we conquered! Would we do it again? Well, if we do, we’ll definitely wait until later in the year when the snow is melted.