Scotchman Peaks Wilderness Campaign: Stories

John Roskelly
At age 17, John Roskelly was introduced to the Cabinet Mountains of Montana by the Spokane Mountaineers. It was only two years after President Lyndon B. Johnson had signed legislation creating the Cabinet Mountain Wilderness, and over nine million acres of other protected wildlands, that John stood in a mountain climber's paradise surrounded by the likes of St. Paul, Ojibway, Elephant and Rock Peaks. That first summer's experience initiated a love affair that has lasted for 40 years and shows no sign of growing old. Neither does John, for that matter, a man who in his mid-50s could likely still out-hike and out-climb many 30 years younger than he.

Called "the leading American mountaineer of his generation" by climber and writer David Roberts, John had no inkling in 1966 of another chunk of isolated real estate that would latch onto his heart and draw him back year after year for two and a half decades. They were the Cabinets' nearby cousins, the Scotchman Peaks. He didn't go there to climb mountains; he went there to hunt and to be alone. John stated that not even on Mount Everest, which John has climbed five times and summited once, can one find the solitude that John enjoys so much about the Scotchmans.

In 1980, John was guided into the Scotchmans by a man who lives vividly in his memory. Will Hawkins took him there to hunt mule deer and on a late-November day when the snow lay deep in the timber and across the mountainsides, they spied the trophy that hangs today in John's living room. The massive four-by-four was an "old, old buck," John said. "It had no teeth, but an immense upper body; huge shoulders and a broad, deep chest. In its prime, it must have been a big buck." It was one of many big bucks John has seen over the years in these mountains.

Will died just six years later, but the man who first took him into Scotchman Peak resides in a secret place in John's heart, right next to the love he has for that small, isolated range of mountains straddling the Montana and Idaho border. He has hiked, explored and hunted just about every facet of Scotchman Peak, as well as the country to the northwest on Bald Eagle and Grouse Mountains.

When asked what draws him here -- the man who wrote about "a life of adventure among the highest and most remote mountains on earth" in his 1993 book, Stories Off The Wall -- John says without a second’s hesitation, "No people; the solitude." And then he elaborates as a wistful look comes into his eyes; "The heat rising, the insects buzzing, no sound, nobody around. All I want to do is be alone when I am out there." And the Scotchmans afford him that opportunity.

"Trying to think of all the things I see from the summit of Scotchman Peak," he continues, "I love the grand views, the trees draped over the mountainsides, the deep, remote valleys. And it is a breeding ground for elk and lots of other animals. It's great habitat. We've got to have a place like this for these animals."

What makes the Scotchman Peaks such a great candidate for wilderness protection besides its beauty, John believes, is its inaccessibility. "It's so steep, that's what keeps a lot of people out." But beyond all that -- the beauty, the habitat, the animals that live here, is the one great thing that brings him back every time—the solitude.

"It's as close to heaven as I'm going to get," John laughs. "Every time I go there, it's like walking into heaven. There are no words to express that feeling. I love it."

 

 

Bob Hays, Clark Fork ID
"I'm not an environmentalist," says Bob Hays, for 40 years the owner of Hays Chevron in downtown Clark Fork, Idaho. But when it comes to the rugged, wild landscape of the Scotchman Peaks just north of town, he adds, "I don't think it needs to be touched. It should stay as it is. It's like our own park." A wilderness park, that is.

It is a chunk of wilderness Bob knows well, as he has spent more than 55 years hiking, camping and hunting in this remote area. The elk and moose antlers hanging on the walls inside his business attest to the success he has had over the years.

In 1948, at the age of 8, Bob's family moved to Clark Fork from Montana. That peak and the wild country surrounding it have been in Bob's line of sight ever since. "We started going up there when we were kids. We'd go up Blue Creek and camp and fish. It was a neat experience. It was a rugged hike up there and you'd feel like the only person in the country."

It's an area that has changed little in the past century and a half. Bob recalls when there were only mule deer and mountain goats in the Scotchmans. Elk were trucked in from Yellowstone and released in Trestle Creek back in the 1930's. Since then they have adapted to the harsh terrain and now thrive in this remote high country. It seems moose have always been here. Inside the gas station, Bob displays a photo of a bull moose with a 50-inch set of antlers that was taken from Rattle Creek at the north end of the Scotchmans.

Bob remembers seeing the marten sets cut into old tamarack trees deep in the forest and he has always marveled at the strength and endurance of the early trappers who criss-crossed those rugged mountains in search of pelts at all times of the year. "That's steep ground in there," Bob exclaimed. "Imagine being in there in ten feet of snow on snowshoes! Those had to be some gritty guys." He recalled finding the old Brooks cabin on Blue Creek and how he and his buddies would utilize it on their own forays into the backcountry. "We'd feel like we were in Alaska or someplace camping out," Bob reminisced about the three or four 15-year-olds that would clamber their way to the cabin. "We'd get a fire going and then the snow would melt and the roof would leak and we would have to move our blankets around. But it was a pretty neat place."

The Scotchmans is a place that has sown some pretty neat memories for Bob Hays, and it became a place he took his own kids and taught them how to hunt and fish. But don't think Bob has only memories of good times in the Scotchmans. At 64 he still goes up into those mountains to hunt and fish and camp. It has become an area where he now takes his grandson to teach him the ways of the wilderness. He feels it is important "to give them a taste of what it's like up there, to hear an elk bugle, to learn to fly fish." They love it, he proudly states. And in part that is because, as Bob said, "It's still like it was when man first came through here, and I think that's the way it should always be. This is our little Yellowstone or Yosemite or Glacier. It's a different world. Let's keep it."