An Ennis, Montana Adventure

Waze told us to turn down the private drive of a cattle ranch on the way to the trailhead. That can’t be right! I scrambled for a backup plan while Craig kept the truck and our 28-foot Airstream (“Chisoku”) rolling down the rural Montana road. His lips pressed together in that familiar "I'm not saying anything, but I'm thinking it" expression.

This hike had been my idea. The campground we would go to next was my idea, too. In our routine, I typically plan the itinerary; Craig reserves the right to silently judge it. Fair enough. You can't muscle an Airstream down just any road, and I have a habit of glossing over potential perils.

Salvation arrived in the form of AllTrails (the hiking app we use). We'd checked the satellite view of the trailhead the night before and confirmed there'd be room to park and pull around. Now the app's GPS showed we were still on the right road. I held my breath and told Craig to keep going.

The dirt road wound past ranches with names like Diamond J and Copper Sky, then started to twist like a mountain pass. Oncoming cars appeared around blind curves, their drivers clearly not expecting a truck-and-trailer combo. "Narrow Bridge" signs materialized, and I swallowed hard at each one, hoping they were wide enough for us.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of slow-roll tension, the trailhead appeared. Circular drive, ample parking, official signage. Exactly what AllTrails had promised. Craig pulled us around and parked. I exhaled.

The cold mountain air hit us the moment we stepped out, so we ducked back into Chisoku to layer up. I threw water, snacks, and dog treats into a pack. I skipped the Tylenol, despite a headache already creeping in. Rookie mistake.

Craig was still skeptical. Then we hit the trail, and any lingering doubt evaporated. A rushing creek, cool rock formations, wildflowers, colorful shrubs, and an almost absurd number of butterflies. The kind of place that makes your camera feel inadequate. According to other hikers' AllTrails comments, the best part would be a meadow and lake a little over half-way through this 10-mile out-and-back. We'd decided to play it by ear.

I took the lead with Lizzie, stopping constantly for photos that never quite did the place justice. Craig followed with Dottie. The dogs drank straight from the stream. Nobody complained. It was idyllic. (Ok, maybe I complained about my headache a little bit.)

Past the two-mile mark, we walked past a scree field from some long-ago rockslide and then through an old gate. The meadow had to be close. I was feeling it.

Then Craig said, "Jenn, stop!"

I looked left. Right. Nothing.

"A bear," he said, quieter now. "Straight ahead."

There it was — just off the trail, a brown bear. Possibly a juvenile. Definitely a bear. I fumbled my phone into camera mode, torn between the urge to observe and the urge to sprint. I snapped a couple of photos before Craig said, "Back up slowly." I backed up. Then I turned around and put him between me and the bear, which felt like the right call.

It was right around this moment that I remembered the contents of my backpack. Beef jerky dog treats. Peanut butter Clif bars. Just an absolute charcuterie board for bears, sitting on my back. Brilliant.

We walked fast for a full mile before we relaxed. The bear probably never saw us. Probably. We never did make it to the meadow and lake. But honestly? A 5-mile hike with a bear sighting and zero calamity is a win. Especially when you consider the alternative ending to a story that began with "my wife talked me into pulling an Airstream down a mystery road in rural Montana."

The drive out was slow but fine. We pushed on to our campground in Ennis, and it was genuinely stunning. It had sweeping mountain views across a wide valley, cattle grazing, and grassy trails laced with ponds, cattails, birds, and turtles. Also snakes, which I could have done without.

We only stayed two nights. But with a bear story already in the books, it felt like enough. Here are some more pictures...