the Great Northern that runs between Power to Pendroy.  We jumped on in the middle at Choteau and headed east.  The line runs through the Freezeout Lake Game Refuge and then across the wheat covered

plains, sparsely populated and serving a few far flung farmers only by dirt roads.  Midway through the ride somebody spotted datenails in the ties and an instant later

Mike, who had not seen one before, was prying a few up as souveniers.

We kidded him with our warnings that collecting datenails could become addictive,

but he adamently denied he would be so tempted.  For the next several days

every time I saw Mike he was off his bike prying up nails and if he was in front you just had to wait.

Approaching Eastham Junction the railroad splits with one leg crossing a secondary highway running south toward Fairfield.  Up ahead at the grade crossing we could see the flashing

lights of what appeared to be a highway patrol car parked at the tracks.  It was definately

cause for concern.   We stopped just around a slight curve in the tracks behind some tall bushes which hid us from view of the grade crossing. Dick ran up a low embankment to get a clearer view of what awaited ahead.  All at once

he came running back yelling that it was a highrider and it was coming out way.  There was

instant panic as all of us pulled our bikes off the rails and into the grass

at the side of the tracks.  When the highrider reached us he didn’t even look our way.

His two young children were riding in the cab and apparently he didn’t want to

confront a large group of railbikers. As he passed, his kids stared with eyes wide with surprise but

certainly no more surprised and relieved then we.

In my nervousness

I didn’t think of videoing the entire incident, and only caught a brief shot of the highrider

receding into the distance, his lights still flashing.So much for being a photojournalism.

From that point on our ride became almost melancholy as we crossed the silent plains.  The golden wheat fields stretched as far as the eye could see and glowed in the sweet light of the late

afternoon sun.  We had a strong tailwind that made riding a joy and the thunderheads building in the east added drama to the late afternoon.

Mark had returned  to our starting point and picked up Mikes van and

trailer and headed out ahead of us to ferry us all back to Choteau, giving us the opportunity

to continue east for another couple of hours.  We found him parked

on a dirt road out in the middle of nowhere.  As we approached, we startled some free-ranging

horses, who after playfully running circles around us, came to inspect our railbikes. 

It had been another great day of riding and its success was the result of Mark’s planning

and assistance.  Once again, we were in his debt.  We said our farewells to Mark who had to leave

for home that evening and the group headed south to prepare for our next ride

along the Missouri River between Helena and Great Falls on the Northern Pacific.

Northwest Odyssey - Part VI

The Great Northern Railway

Across the Montana Plains

Peter Hoffman

    After riding the Stryker to Eureka branch of the Great Northern we were treated to another over-the-top experience in hospitality when fellow railbiker Mark Hamey invited us to stay at his mountain cabin just outside Glacier Park near Essex, Montana.  It was late afternoon when the nine of us arrived at his place deep in the woods.

    After claiming our bunk space we walked to the Burlington Northern

mainline just 100 yards away.  Within a few minutes two long freights blew by, their air horns echoing mournfully off the mountainsides. More than 50 trains a day traverse this line in winter and as many as 75 during the summer months.

    Mark had stocked the cabin with food and beer and whipped up

some great hamburgers that evening which we enjoyed around the glowing wood stove.  The following morning Mark  was up again cooking breakfast and providing foodstuffs for us to pack our lunches. Everybody should have such  generous friends.

    Mark, who lives nearby

in the town of Cutbank,  planned the day’s ride on a little used branch of

 

the Great Northern that runs between Power to Pendroy.  We jumped on in the middle at Choteau and headed east.  The line runs through the Freezeout Lake Game Refuge and then across the wheat-covered

plains, sparsely populated and serving a few far-flung farmers only by dirt roads. 

     Midway through the ride somebody spotted datenails in the ties and an instant later Mike, who had not seen one before, was prying a few up as souvenirs. We kidded him with our warnings that collecting datenails could become addictive, but he adamantly denied he would be so tempted.  For the next several days every time I saw Mike he was off his bike prying up nails and if he was in front you just had to wait.

  

    Approaching Eastham Junction the railroad splits with one leg crossing a secondary highway running south toward Fairfield.  Up ahead at the grade crossing we could see the flashing lights of what appeared to be a highway patrol car parked at the tracks.  It was definitely cause for concern.   We stopped just around a slight curve in the tracks behind some tall bushes which hid us from view of the grade crossing. Dick ran up a low embankment to get a clearer view of what awaited ahead.  All at once he came running back yelling that it was a highrider and it was coming out way.  There was instant panic as all of us pulled our bikes off the rails and into the grass at the side of the tracks.  When the highrider reached us he didn't even look our way. His two young children were riding in the cab and apparently he didn’t want to confront a large group of railbikers. As he passed, his kids stared with eyes wide with surprise but certainly no more surprised and relieved than our group.  In my nervousness I didn’t think of videoing the entire incident, and only caught a brief shot of the highrider  receding into the distance, his lights still flashing.   So much for being a photojournalist.

  

    From that point our ride became almost melancholy as we crossed the silent plains.  The golden wheat fields stretched as far as the eye could see and glowed in the sweet light of the late afternoon sun.  We had a strong tailwind that made riding a joy and the thunderheads building in the east added drama to the late afternoon.

    Mark had returned  to our starting point and picked up Mike's van and trailer and headed out ahead of us to ferry us all back to Choteau, giving us the opportunity to continue east for another couple of hours.  We found him parked on a dirt road out in the middle of nowhere.  As we approached, we startled some free-ranging horses who, after playfully running circles around us, came to inspect our railbikes. 

    It had been another great day of riding and its success was the result of Mark’s planning  and assistance.  Once again, we were in his debt.  We said our farewells to Mark who had to leave for home that evening and the group headed south to prepare for our next ride along the Missouri River between Helena and Great Falls on the Northern Pacific.

The grain silo (top photo) was a photo op for many of us.  Above, the rails stretch east into infinity as the thunderheads build on the horizon.

Leaving Choteau (left)

the only town on our ride

Dick pulled his trailer

filled with cold sodas

and we toasted to our

friendship and good times.

Still dumfounded,

we stood transfixed

pondering our good fortune

as the highrider

receded into the distance.

A band of frisky

and very curious horses

came to inspect

our railbikes at the end of the ride.

The railroad

skirts the

Freezeout Lake

Game Management

Area noted for

Snow Geese migration,

Canadian geese, Tundra Swans

and duck habitat.

Photos - Peter Hoffman