A Day in the Field with Daughter of the Sun
Words and photos by Andrea DiNino
“Maybe this is our curveball,” Kaydee offered as Nathan repeatedly pulled the cord of the small chainsaw that sounded as if it were too tired to work today.
In the world of trail clearing (especially into the wilderness), there might be a set start time, but that’s about as much as you can plan on, other than expecting the unexpected. I planned to meet Nathan Noble and Kaydee Borchers of Daughter of the Sun Backcountry Services (DOTS) at 9am that morning at the end of my road.
Nathan, Kaydee, her boyfriend and volunteer for the day, Si, Tayberry (Kaydee and Si’s dog and Jr. ranger), and I drove the 6 miles back to the Beaver Creek Trailhead, where we gathered our gear, picked up any lingering trash, and prepared for a day of sawing downed trees and cutting back brush on the trail. The hike started off mellow and thoughts of an easy day ahead passed through all of our minds. But, as Kaydee had learned and passed on to me, “there’s always a curveball.”
With only one of the four miles ahead being outside the wilderness boundary and motorized and mechanized equipment being banned beyond that boundary, it was decided that lugging the extra (and unreliable) equipment likely wasn’t worth it, so Nathan turned around and headed back to the Jeep to shed the unnecessary weight. Kaydee, Si, Tayberry and I pushed ahead with our backcountry arsenal of a two-man crosscut saw, silky saw, ax, and child-sized plastic rake; what first appeared as some kind of inside joke actually turned out to be an incredibly useful tool.
“You don’t know how much time is wasted while leaning over to get sticks and brush off the trail,” Nathan shared.
Another fact that made the day ahead feel particularly promising was that the trail to Crystal Lake was mostly downhill, and, in order to avoid the punishment of finishing our long day with an uphill climb, Kaydee had arranged for her dad to drive over from Polson and meet us at the end of Lindbergh Lake with his boat. He would take us across the lake and back to their cars, which we had left at the end of Lindbergh Road earlier that morning. So, no matter how challenging the day may have gotten, there was an enticing reward waiting at the end.
As we moseyed further beyond the wilderness boundary, the leaners (aka trees hanging over the trail, including full-on larch arches) and blockages on the trail increased both in number and in size. At each downed tree, Kaydee and Nathan or Si would unstrap the old firehose cover that protected the blades of the crosscut saw, screw on a handlebar, and get into position on either side of the log. After four seasons together, they work like a well-oiled machine, smoothly pulling the blade back and forth as if it’s slicing a loaf of bread.
Each tree was different – some could be lifted or pushed off the trail, while others required limbs to be chopped off and cuts to be made both on the top and bottom of the log (a more awkward maneuver, as pulling and applying pressure upwards certainly isn’t as easy, especially when seated on the side of a hill). And, the positioning isn’t always the only challenge; overgrown shrubs and aggressive clouds of mosquitoes can make a seemingly simple task become more complicated and less pleasurable.
We knew we had one water crossing (or, I should say they knew, as I hadn’t been on this trail before and was just lucky that I went for my water shoes over my hiking boots). The Swan River was still surging down to the valley floor, and our options were wading through a strong flow to the other side of the trail or balancing across a partially soaked log. I’m already pretty nervous around swiftwater, but throw in a couple thousand dollars-worth of camera gear on my back, and it spurs a next-level heart rate. After turning back on the log once to regroup myself, I met everyone on the other side, and we all took a quick break by the river.
The rest of the way to Crystal got buggier before it got better, but the blooming arnica, peeks of the Missions and Lindbergh, not-too-hot temperature, and great company made up for it; you really can’t complain about getting paid to spend a day in the wilderness.
With each pit stop we made, while I took photos of Kaydee, Nathan, and Si doing all the hard work (and Tayberry living his best life as a trail dog), I thought of how I’ve never considered all the work that goes into clearing the trails I enjoy using each summer. I’ve just shown up and started hiking. It never occurred to me that people spent up to twelve hours a day, in all kinds of conditions, making sure I had an open path. I started to feel a lot of gratitude for this little crew, and I still do.
Once the blowdown has been cleared, which happens in both the Mission Mountains Wilderness and along the Swan front, their work’s not over. Nathan, Kaydee, and Christian Mascho (the third member of DOTS), are out on “ranger days,” conversing with recreationists, naturalizing campsites, encouraging Leave No Trace principles, and being a resource and presence on the landscape, where they invest so much of themselves.
And, it should be mentioned that this team isn’t the only one out on the landscape, clearing trails; Forest Service crews are also sharing in this responsibility, although with a cut in their recreation budget, it makes the support of DOTS all that much more needed and important. Without the efforts of Christian, Kaydee, Nathan, and their many volunteers, some of our favorite trails would not be cleared and trailheads and campsites would be full of garbage. This is why SVC has and continues to partner with the U.S. Forest Service to pool funds to contract DOTS; this long-standing contract has been around since 1996 and most recently, for the 2020 field season, SVC was able to raise 9x what the USFS is able to contribute to the contract.
When we finally made it to Crystal, after realizing we hadn’t done the practical thing and brought along a packraft to ferry ourselves and gear across the lake, we tried to find the safest route across the treed islands that broke up the outlet waters, which were gushing and full of woody debris. While the water wasn’t as instantly numbing as expected, the flow was strong enough to take any of us down in some spots, and the water was high enough in the calmer sections to soak our gear – we had all watched Nathan attempt to wade across waist-deep, crosscut thrown over his shoulder, and backpack starting to submerge.
After multiple attempts in various spots, it was decided that (given the likelihood of my camera gear getting wet) I would turn around and hike back up and out on my own, while the rest of the crew would find a way to get over and down to Lindbergh, as Kaydee’s dad was surely there waiting and would soon be worrying. Without cell service on the lake, there was no way of communicating with him, even with our satellite phone, to let him know of any change in plans.
Another curveball.
So, although I didn’t get the boat ride out in the end, I gained a new appreciation for our trail stewards and even enjoyed the solo time in the woods on my hike back to the car. If you’re ever out recreating in the Missions or the Swans and bump into the DOTS crew, maybe give them a “thank you” for all the hard work they do to ensure you get to enjoy these wild spaces, and of course, you can always do your part by picking up trash at trailheads or clearing small brush off the trail, too.
*Daughter of the Sun Backcountry Services is partially funded by the National Forest Foundation.
The National Forest Foundation promotes the enhancement and public enjoyment of the 193-million-acre National Forest System. By directly engaging Americans and leveraging private and public funding, the NFF improves forest health and Americans' outdoor experiences. The NFF's programs inform millions of Americans about the importance of these treasured landscapes. Each year, the NFF restores fish and wildlife habitat, plants trees in areas affected by fires, insects and disease, improves recreational opportunities, and enables communities to steward their National Forests and Grasslands.
