After one of the best weeks of powder skiing in the last couple years, I decided to take a day off from the slopes last Saturday to avoid the crowds sure to flock to the lifts of Bridger Bowl and do a little exploring with Lex. After gorging on breakfast at the delicious Storm Castle Cafe and a morning of relaxing around the house, we set off up the west side of the Bridger Mountains. Although the snow fall had subsided drastically, it was still an overcast day and the fresh white snow blended almost seamlessly with the dirty white of the snow laden sky. We turned the truck up Springhill road, and set our sights on gravel roads and remote mountain foothills. Lex was getting quite excited by the lack of pavement beneath our wheels and the lack of exercise that morning, and North Cottonwood Trailhead seemed like a good place to remedy this. A cool snowy walk of about a mile through the rolling plains of the foothills took us to the base of the Bridger Mountains. Or at least took me to the base of the Bridgers, Lex had vanished, apparently on the trail of some deer that had avoided him and were meandering up the hill above me. After retrieving the dog, we turned around and walked back to the truck to continue our exploration.
Continuing north along the front of the Bridgers we passed the community of Pass Creek and before long stumbled upon an old abandoned farmstead. Stopping the truck, we took the opportunity to take a few pictures and check out the ruins. It is always humbling to think of the people who built these farmsteads many years ago. The perseverance and strength they must have possessed to literally build their lives in such a harsh place, with so little of the technology and comforts we are so used to, is a set of skills long lost in today's society.
Continuing north along the front of the Bridgers we passed the community of Pass Creek and before long stumbled upon an old abandoned farmstead. Stopping the truck, we took the opportunity to take a few pictures and check out the ruins. It is always humbling to think of the people who built these farmsteads many years ago. The perseverance and strength they must have possessed to literally build their lives in such a harsh place, with so little of the technology and comforts we are so used to, is a set of skills long lost in today's society.
After checking out the old farmstead we continued our exploration, eventually hitting Dry Creek Road and continuing north. Soon the rolling farm fields gave way to craggy hills, deep draws, and scrubby pine trees as we wound our way further into the mountains. Traces of human occupation became scarce, outnumbered by the deer keeping a watchful eye on us as we drove by. After a while we came around a hill and were greeted with a beautiful stream bottom and some more old buildings. We had found Maudlow, one of the many old ghost towns of Montana's history.
From what I can gather, Maudlow was originally a small station stop on the mainline of the Milwaukee Transcontinental Railroad as well as a community center for the ranchers and homesteaders in the area. The narrow canyon of 16 Mile Creek the town is situated in was reportedly one of the scenic highlights of the old railroad. However, today the railroad is long gone, and that town is now abandoned. A large two story school building sits disused on the side of the town, standing watch over the handful of falling down homes and an old shuttered building that must have one time been a general store. The only hint of human habitation is some ranches scattered in the surrounding hills. Lex and I stretched our legs a little, and with the road conditions deteriorating and daylight waning, we turned the truck around and headed back towards the warmth and comfort of home. Passing an old abandoned grain elevator called for one more stop before we hit the pavement, Manhattan, and the freeway back to Bozeman.
From what I can gather, Maudlow was originally a small station stop on the mainline of the Milwaukee Transcontinental Railroad as well as a community center for the ranchers and homesteaders in the area. The narrow canyon of 16 Mile Creek the town is situated in was reportedly one of the scenic highlights of the old railroad. However, today the railroad is long gone, and that town is now abandoned. A large two story school building sits disused on the side of the town, standing watch over the handful of falling down homes and an old shuttered building that must have one time been a general store. The only hint of human habitation is some ranches scattered in the surrounding hills. Lex and I stretched our legs a little, and with the road conditions deteriorating and daylight waning, we turned the truck around and headed back towards the warmth and comfort of home. Passing an old abandoned grain elevator called for one more stop before we hit the pavement, Manhattan, and the freeway back to Bozeman.
