Snowbiking Serenity in Kalispell, Montana

I felt the crunch of compacting snow under my boot and before I knew it, I was face down—sunk to my hip in fresh powder with a Husqvarna TE 300 towering over me. The snow around my leg instantly solidified like concrete, locking my boot into place some 33-odd inches below the surface. I froze for a moment, too, imagining that this is just a taste of what it must feel like to be caught in the aftermath of an avalanche.

We were on top of roughly 10 feet of untouched snow, surrounded by mountains, and miles away from the main snowmobile trail. I made the mistake of getting off the bike to take a photo too close to a nearly covered tree. I had placed my foot smack dab in the middle of a tree well—something I was told earlier that morning I should avoid. At least the bike stayed in place, upright in the snow as if nothing had happened. It took some effort, but with the help of my three riding partners—Florian, Manuel, and Caleb—I managed to get my leg out of the snow and snap the photo I was dead-set on taking.

Silence is Beautiful

The tips of 20-foot-tall pine trees peaked through the top of the snow, and reminded me of walking through a Christmas tree farm. In the summer, this area would be inaccessible. There are no roads or hiking trails on this mountain. But in the winter, this area—covered by many feet of snow—becomes a solitary and serene playground with the right machine. If you sit for a moment and listen, the mountains are quiet and still under the thick blanket of frozen white stuff. I couldn’t help but think we were likely some of the only people to have explored these peaks—alongside the other snow bikers, of course.

We were in northwestern Montana, high on a mountain tucked right between Glacier National Park and Flathead National Forest. The snow glistened in the sun, stunningly beautiful and somehow calming. Occasionally, we spotted animal tracks among the rolling white seas, but otherwise the snow was pure and untouched.

It’s an incredible feeling, being on top of the world in an area so remote. It made us feel small, at the mercy of Mother Nature, connected to the earth and its wildness.

"Not until you hear the silent snow, can you listen to your soul speak."

Winter Riders

To most motorcyclists, waking to several feet of fresh snow on the ground would mean you’re not riding today. You’d be “snowed in” as they say, so might as well throw some logs in the fireplace and crack open a good book with a cup of hot tea. But snow bikers are a different breed altogether. To them, the more fresh powder there is, the better.

Lucky for us, it was early spring which brought fairly warm weather, considering we were surrounded by a frozen landscape. Spring also graced us with frequent precipitation, giving us a nearly constant refill of soft fluffy snow, especially at higher elevations. These were the perfect conditions for learning to ride a motorcycle equipped with a track and ski, something the four of us had wanted to try for a very long time.

Motorcyclists tend to be naturals on snow bikes, but there were a few bad habits we had to break—like coming to a stop and putting your foot down. We all ended up buried in the snow under our bikes at some point because of that. The other “bad” habit I in particular struggled with was following tracks. On a snow bike, it’s a lot easier to ride through fresh snow, but the single-track fiend in me wanted to follow along in the same tracks as the rider ahead. This tendency was partly due to my fear of going somewhere I shouldn’t or getting lost, but also out of habit from years of trail riding. It only took us a couple of hours to get the hang of the machines, and then there was no stopping us. We were ready to conquer the mountain.

Shredding the Gnar

After a brief introduction to riding in the snow-covered field next to our cabin, we found our way to the trailhead. The first part of the ride was on a designated snowmobile trail, which we had to ride for several miles before we could split off to the first snow bike zone. We were all a little nervous, not yet having our snow legs under us and venturing out into the wild for the very first time.

We passed the beacon checkpoint and after getting the signal of a green check mark, we took off. Within the first 100 yards was an uphill hairpin turn to the right, putting us on the snowmobile trail which was already compacted and icy from the sleds leaving ahead of us. I turned my handlebar and gave the bike too little throttle. Just like that, I’d had my first fall of the day, toppling over in place. Luckily, there was nobody behind me. I picked up the bike and hopped back on, adding a quick head check to make sure nobody saw my embarrassment. They didn’t, and I pinned the throttle on the TE 300 wide open. Now, I had ground to make up.

The first few miles were a learning experience for all of us. We fell over several times as we got accustomed to how the snow bikes liked to be handled and how they didn’t. Fortunately, a pillow of snow creates a soft landing, unlike the dirt we were used to.

We took turns following each other in circles up and down the hills, through the pine trees, and across off-camber banks of snow. With each lap, we gained a little more speed and a dash more confidence in what we were capable of. It wasn’t long before I noticed what I thought would make a good jump and veered off in an attempt to catch some air. With my wrist on the throttle, I hit a small lip of snow and sent the front ski toward the sky.

The ski landed in a deep pillow of fresh powder, which caused snow to spray up and over the front of the bike, pelting me in the face. Without losing any speed I leaned the bike hard to the left, using a snow drift as a berm to send me straight back up the mountain. When I reached the top my adrenaline was pumping hard. “I HAVE to move somewhere that gets snow. That was sick!” I thought to myself as I grinned proudly to myself inside my helmet. That was the moment I fell in love with the snow.

Eating Needles

Thick branches of evergreen needles bowed over our path, weighed down by blankets of wet, heavy snow. We romped around the trees like arctic hares, nimble and graceful as we searched for paths through the tops of the frosted trees. We ducked under limbs and dodged trunks as we climbed the side of a slope that seemed to get exponentially steeper. The rear track slid downhill a touch as I worked my way out of the trees and realized how incredibly sheer the off-camber hill had become. These bikes can go absolutely anywhere. I’d surpassed every limit I had started this experience with.

Toward the end of the day, I took a break on a slope, sitting on the bike with the engine turned off. Steep white mountains soared into the sky in every direction. My forearms were toast from squeezing the grips all day, something I hadn’t done even in the dirt in quite some time. The ringing of two-stroke engines echoed through the valley and occasionally a glimpse of a bright orange dot appeared, zig-zagging between pine trees on the opposite side.

We had one final hill climb left to conquer in order to get back to the main trail, and it was a long one. We knew momentum would be our friend, so we pointed our skis to the top of the ridge and held the throttles wide open for the long ascent. We weaved through the trees, each of us taking a different route in an intricate snowy dance. Our engines screamed as we tore through the banks, sending icy rooster tails 20 or more feet into the air. The light of the sun shone through the trees and caught the snow at an angle that made it appear as if we were riding on glistening golden crystals.

The mountain slope turned upward and our momentum started to fade. Caleb and I looked at each other with knowing looks as our bikes began to slow and sink into the soft snow. Our tracks were buried—we were stuck and needed to dig the bikes out in order to keep going. It was no small task in snow this deep. Every step took thrice the effort, but eventually we were able to position the bikes on a clear escape path. Exhausted after a long day of firsts, we plopped our bottoms into the snow and admired the spectacular view which had been at our backs while climbing this ridge. It was breathtaking and humbling at the same time.

Free Refills

The pow stoke was high the next morning and we were eager to get back on the mountain. It had snowed all night, covering all the footsteps around our cabin, as well as the tracks we’d made. Old Man Winter had dumped several inches of the fresh stuff. We were up before the sun, prepping our gear, eating breakfast, and packing a to-go lunch.

It was a bluebird day and the sun reflected blindingly off the fresh snow. We spent the morning following ridgelines with epic views of the mountains all around us. With skies this clear, we could see for miles.

We carved the mountainsides all day with ease in the fresh snow, having learned quickly from our mistakes the day before. We roared along ridgeline after ridgeline, chasing and spraying each other with wakes of snow, pushing our comfort levels and vying for fresh powder.

I was crunched down in the snow when I saw an orange halo appear through the viewfinder of the camera. Florian was blasting up the hill with a large orange bag above his head, having accidentally deployed his avvy air bag by snagging the pull cord on the front brake lever during a crash at the bottom. Laughter erupted up the hill as the rest of the crew realized what had happened.

We spent the rest of the day soaking up the solitude of the mountain range we were traversing and railing on these do-it-all machines. The last thing we wanted to see was the sun sinking below the mountains. We could have used another few days exploring this area and experimenting with hill climbs on the snow bikes.

Trading A Snow Bike for Skis

Snow biking is only one of the many fun winter activities available near Kalispell, MT. A winter trip here just wouldn’t be complete without checking out some of the other popular area adventures.

While Florian and Manuel grew up on skis, Caleb and I had never attempted to slide down a mountain in such fashion. We signed up for beginner ski lessons at Whitefish Mountain Resort, only a short drive from where we were staying in Kalispell. After several hours of patient instruction, we began to get the hang of it.

Graduating from the bunny slope to the chair lift was an accomplishment for us, or so we thought until time came to get off the lift. Before I knew what hit me, I was on the ground with my skis tangled in the snow. That first step is a doozy!

My pride and body were both a bit sore after a few not-so-graceful falls getting off the ski lift and coming down the slopes. As the day went on, we both became more comfortable and confident sliding through the slush and snow. While I have no hope of keeping up with the Neuhausers anytime soon, skiing was a unique experience and I’m glad we decided to try something else completely new.

Casting for Cutthroats on the Flathead

A new hobby I’ve picked up in the last couple of years is fishing, and the Flathead Valley is known for spectacular fly fishing. While we were there a bit early in the season, we figured even a day spent trying and failing to catch fish is a good day.

We stepped aboard a drift boat early on our last day in Montana, shivering from the cold coming off of the swiftly moving water. The recent heavy snow melt meant the river was close to blow-out conditions, when too much sediment clouds the water to the point that the fish don’t want to bite. We decided to make a run of it anyway, because I was determined to snag a huge trout.

Fly fishing off a drift boat with three people is a bit tricky, especially for a noob like me, but after brief instruction from our guide Rod (excellent name for a fishing guide) it felt completely natural. I only hooked a toboggan one time, after too-excitedly whipping my line out of the water thinking I had a bite. By the end of the day, we’d caught five westslope cutthroat trout (the Montana state fish) and a monster rainbow trout, plus enjoyed hours of floating, casting, and watching snowcapped mountains pass by. It’s hard to beat a winter finale like that.

What are Snow Bikes?

A snow bike is essentially a motorcycle that has been retrofitted with a track in the rear and one large ski in the front. There are a few companies now that make snow bike kits and they only take a few hours to install. Many snow bikers retain their moto suspension and wheels for the summer months and then swap to their snow kit in the winter, making riding a year-round hobby even in areas that are covered with feet of snow half of the year.

Similar to a snowmobile, snow bikes glide across the top of the snow. To ride a snow bike feels not unlike a combination of a motorcycle and jet ski. The controls are the same as a typical motorcycle and steering feels similar to a jet ski in the way the front skids (or floats) across the top of the frozen water. The big difference between a snow bike and a snowmobile is the ability to maneuver through the snow. Snowmobiles are much more susceptible to the grade of the slope you’re riding and beginners especially will want to stick to flatter areas and trails that don’t contain off-camber sections. Snow bikes, on the other hand, can easily go almost anywhere. Some even say that learning to ride a snow bike is easier than learning to ride a dirt bike, and I have to agree. Plus, if you do fall off, snow is quite forgiving.

SnowBike Nation

This snow biking trip would not have been possible without the help of Kyle and the crew at SnowBike Nation (SBN). SBN is a snow bike rental and guide service in Kalispell that takes riders out on adventures in the mountains. They provide the bikes and all the necessary equipment to make your trip not only fun but safe. Kyle equipped us with snow bike-specific riding suits, protective gear, boots, beacons, avalanche bags, radios, and more. Not only did he provide the bikes and gear for the trip, but he taught us how to properly use everything we were carrying in case of an emergency.

Having never been on snow bikes before, he also taught us the ropes to riding and all the do’s and don’ts of being on the mountain, reading the snow, and looking out for each other. It’s important to go with a guide service if you want to snow bike in an area you are unfamiliar with because you could easily get lost or end up riding in areas where motorized vehicles are not allowed. SBN provided several different bike setups for us to try, and we had a blast testing out each of the kits.

SBN also operates as Flathead Valley Outdoors in the summertime and Kyle takes people out on dual sport and adventure trail rides. In the spring, it’s even possible to ride snow bikes in the higher elevations one day and dual sport in the lowlands the next. Kyle and the crew at SBN are experts when it comes to northwestern Montana, no matter what type of vehicle you’re on. This year, SnowBike Nation is working closely with veterans and first responders to provide riding trips as an outlet to help with PTSD and other mental health issues resulting from their time on active duty.

Kalispell’s Cold Season

Our winter adventure week was based in Kalispell, MT. This area is known for its outdoor summer activities, like hiking, camping, climbing, and fishing. Motorcycling is one of their top summer attractions as well, with several famous riding destinations close by—Going-to-the-Sun Road through Glacier National Park being a prime example. But Kalispell is just as exciting, if not more so, in the winter. This time of year, there aren’t crowds of people swarming the roads and packing the parks and forests. With snow on the ground, the area calms down, and that was exactly what we were looking for.

Near Kalispell you can ski, snowboard, snowshoe, snow bike, snowmobile, fish, cross-country ski, winter kayak, and even mush your own dog sled team. If you have an adventurous spirit, Kalispell is the perfect place for a winter getaway. When you’re done playing in the snow for the day, you can relax and visit some of Kalispell’s many great restaurants and hotels. January is a great time to visit Kalispell, in conjunction with Frosty the Brewfest, an annual beer festival featuring several local breweries, live music, and more.