Snowshoe trip at 40 below zero

Beginning in 1933, the Forest Service began an intensive winter game study in the South Fork of the Flathead to determine the number of big game, forage use, snow depth, temperature, migrations, etc. Within a few years the study included the Swan and Middle Fork drainages.

Forest Service ranger Henry Thol was in charge of the local winter game patrol in 1935. He was a rugged outdoorsman in his 50s who was experienced in mountain travel.

Assistant ranger 27-year-old Norman Schappacher spent much of that winter checking the migration patterns of game near the watershed divide between the Clearwater and Swan Rivers.

At that time the ranger and guard stations were rustic, with communication systems consisting of single-strand, ground-circuit telephone line.

One bitterly cold evening in late January of that year, Thol and Schappacher arrived at the Holland Lake Guard Station. The ground was covered with 18 inches of crusty snow. When Schappacher chopped a hole in the ice of Holland Lake to get water, the ice was 16 inches thick.

Later that night a snowstorm moved in. Heavy snow fell for three nights and two days.

Early in the morning of the third day the men started on a trip to the Condon Ranger Station. The snow measured 60 inches on the level with the temperature at 36 below zero. They used a snowshoe called a trailer. It was 60 inches long and eight inches wide with an upturned toe.

In a story, he wrote about the ordeal in the Montana Magazine Schappacher said, "As soon as we started I knew we were in for a rough trip. Even with the trailers we sank in about 18 inches with every step."

After traveling three miles under a clear sky they arrived at the wagon road that wound through the forest of Swan Valley. They headed north toward the Condon Ranger Station, reaching the ranch of Jack and Hilda (Rovero) Johnson near Buck Creek around 11 a.m.

While eating lunch with the Johnsons, they were surprised to hear the telephone ring. It was Rudie Kaser calling from the Condon Ranger Station. His elderly mother Minnie Kaser suffered a heart attack but no medicine was available nearby. As luck would have it, Kaser had located some at the Gordon Ranch, which was four miles south of the turnoff that they had just come from.

Schappacher volunteered to go back to the Gordon Ranch for the medicine, if Thol would break trail to the north to the Condon Ranger Station (about 10 miles away).

Heading south over the broken trail, Schappacher made good time. But once he reached the turnoff, he had to travel on an unbroken trail.

"By this time that day I had traveled 19 miles and from here things would start to get tough, with no partner to trade off the lead. I was certainly happy to see the smoke swirling from the chimney of the Gordon's ranch," he said.

After securing the medicine under his arm to keep it from freezing, Schappacher began to re-trace his steps.

"It was so far I hated to think of it. The going was good on my broken trail but that didn't last long," Schappacher said.

The wind rose from the north and blew into the valley. The broken trail filled with drifted snow. With the windblown snow in his face, he could not see but a few feet ahead. The cold was bone-chilling.

Schappacher knew he had to keep moving. Hour after hour, step after step, he trudged through the snow.

At dusk Schappacher once again reached the Johnson ranch. "Thirty-three miles behind me, and I was in bad condition. I stopped at the ranch gate and looked at the light shining from their kitchen window. Oh, how I wished I were in there with a big meal and hot coffee!" Schappacher wrote.

Schappacher knew he couldn't stop. As the sun set the wind died out and the sky cleared. Although there was no moon, he could see his way from the starlight on the snow.

As he grew more tired, Schapplacher paused to rest more often. When his snowshoes banged together, it caused him to fall frequently.

As if things couldn't get any worse, a snowshoe strap broke, requiring immediate repairs. Fixing the leather strap without mittens, Schapplacher worked as quickly as possible. "I could have my hands out of the mittens for only a couple minutes at a time but I finally completed the repair," he said.

At one point he sat down to rest. He took his flashlight from his pack and checked his thermometer. It read forty below zero.

Unaware of the time, Schappacher's mind and body were numb.

Schappacher finally reached the side road that led to the Condon Ranger Station. Only a mile and a half to go. With trembling knees, he climbed around the final hill. At last, there was the Forest Service dwelling where Rudie Kaser lived, a light in the window.

As he walked on the porch, Schappacher called out. Kaser came to the door prepared to take the medicine on to his mother at her homestead in Salmon Prairie. "He didn't say thanks, he didn't need to, we understood each other," Schappacher said.

Schappacher went to the cookhouse where Thol was waiting with supper. Thol said, "You are kind of late."

"Yes, it was tough going," Schappacher answered. His lonely 41-mile snowshoe trek was finally over.

Norman Schappacher (1908-1992) and his wife Eleonore owned and operated Norm's News in Kalispell from 1938 through 1968. Minnie Kaser (1868-1941) lived several more years at her home in Salmon Prairie.