Itch-ke-pe and Clark's Canoe Camp

By editor

Columbus, Stillwater County, Montana

The river that the Crow people named Itch-ke-pe ar-ja, meaning the river of wild roses, courses through this valley with a quiet but unyielding force. The name evokes the dense stands of Rosa woodsii, the native wild rose, whose thorny canes bloom here each summer in delicate pink clusters from June into August. These shrubs form a nearly continuous hedge along the riverbanks, their oval leaves and fragrant blossoms a persistent presence amid the cottonwoods and willows that border the water. It was these rose-bordered banks that greeted Captain William Clark and his party in July of 1806 when they passed this stretch of river on what they called the Stillwater -- a tributary that flows from the south into the Yellowstone near what is now Columbus, Montana.

The geologic setting of this place reveals a landscape shaped over millions of years. The river flows through sedimentary layers deposited during the Cretaceous Period, roughly 70 million years ago, when the Western Interior Seaway receded, leaving behind sandstones and shales that form the river’s banks today. Nearby glacial moraines from the last Ice Age, about 15,000 years past, still sculpt the topography, guiding the Stillwater’s meandering course. The soft soils and alluvial deposits along the floodplain support the cottonwood groves-- primarily Populus deltoides -- that Clark’s men sought for their dugout canoes.

On Saturday, July 19, 1806, Clark’s party, part of the Corps of Discovery now separated from Lewis’s group, rode downstream along the north bank of the river. They had just emerged from a difficult week in Crow country, negotiating the delicate politics and the rugged terrain of these hills and valleys. Clark’s journal records their observation of an Indian fort just downstream from the mouth of the Itch-ke-pe ar-ja. The fort’s palisades rose sharply against the sky, a cluster of lodges and defensive walls constructed by the Crow people, who had long inhabited these lands.

The party’s urgent task was to fashion dugout canoes large enough to carry them and their supplies down the Yellowstone. The cottonwoods they needed -- trees substantial enough in girth and length -- had been stripped from the valley near the fort, likely harvested by the native communities for their own use. Cottonwood, with its relatively soft and buoyant wood, was prized for dugouts, and here the men found themselves forced to journey farther east in search of suitable trees.

Sergeant George Gibson’s injury added pressure to the endeavor. On the evening of July 18, while mounting his horse near their previous camp, Gibson fell sharply onto a snag, resulting in a grievous thigh wound. The injury limited the party’s mobility and underscored the necessity of resuming river travel, which would be less taxing upon the injured and the party’s horses. Clark’s journal notes “Sharbono,” another man bruised from an earlier fall, compounding the sense of urgency.

By late Saturday afternoon, the party discovered a stand of cottonwoods about ten to twelve miles east of the fort. Here the trees rose with trunks measuring two feet or more in diameter--ample for crafting dugouts of 28 feet in length and 16 to 24 inches in width and depth. Clark’s hand sharpened axes, their handles fashioned from the tough chokecherry wood (Prunus virginiana) found nearby, a hardwood prized for its resilience. The journal entry from Clark reads: “I deturmined to have two Canoes made out of largest of those trees and lash them together -- had handles put in three Axes and after Sharpening them with a file fell the two trees -- those appeared tolerably Sound and will make Canoes of 28 feet in length and about 16 or 18 inches deep and from 16 to 24 inches wide.”

The men set to work, their axes ringing in the still air as they felled the great cottonwoods. The process of hollowing these trees required not only strength but precision, careful to leave the walls thick enough for durability yet light enough for buoyancy. They scraped and carved, burning and chipping away the interior to form the hulls. By Monday evening, July 21, one canoe was nearly finished. They established their camp near what would come to be known as Wimsett’s and Young’s Points, locations along the river notable for their gentle slopes and access to the water’s edge.

However, the night brought further challenges. The party had forty-nine horses and a colt resting near camp on July 20. During the night, Crow warriors seized twenty-four of these horses, a substantial loss that diminished the party’s mobility and resources. The remaining horses, startled, scattered into the timber and were not recovered for three days. This depletion of their mounts compounded the difficulties posed by Gibson’s injury and the labor of canoe construction.

Further misfortune came when wolves visited the camp on the night of July 22. The fresh jerky, a vital food source for the grueling river journey ahead, was devoured. The presence of Canis lupus here was no surprise, for the dense brush and riparian corridors along the Stillwater provide ideal habitat for packs hunting deer and small mammals. Their nocturnal raid deprived the men of a key ration and added to their hardships.

Nevertheless, by late Wednesday, July 23, the two dugout canoes were completed. Clark’s decision to lash them together created a stable platform for their passage down the Yellowstone, combining the length and carrying capacity of both vessels. Early the next morning, Thursday, July 24, the party launched their craft into the river and “PROCEDED ON,” as Clark wrote with a sense of relief and anticipation.

This episode in the expedition’s journey reveals much about the interplay between human endeavor and the natural environment. The selection of cottonwood trees for dugouts underscores the importance of botanical knowledge and the practical uses of native species. The wild rose bushes that gave the river its Crow name remind us that every landscape holds layers of meaning -- botanical, cultural, and historical.

Moreover, the terrain shaped by ancient seas and glaciers created the conditions that made this river route both a challenge and a conduit for exploration. The sedimentary rocks here tell a story written over millions of years, a chronicle that stands silently as the men of the Corps of Discovery carved their canoes and prepared to navigate these waters.

Captain Clark’s journals provide a window into this moment of transition from land to river travel, capturing the details of craft, labor, and landscape with clarity. His careful measurements and observations allow us to reconstruct the scene precisely, connecting us to the natural world as it was then--rich with wild roses, cottonwoods, and the presence of native peoples.

See also

• Itch-ke-pe and Clark's Canoe Camp at Columbus, Stillwater County
• Clark's Canoe Camp on the Yellowstone at Park City, Stillwater County
• Evidence of the Expedition at Glend