Alert readers may recall my wife, Sherry, and I lived in Whitlash (north of Chester in the Sweet Grass Hills) while she served as pastor of the Presbyterian Church there. We lived in Whitlash from December, 2018 to July, 2020. All during that time, even before moving to the Hills, I heard people talk about the Devil's Chimney. The site is one of the most discussed places in the Hills (right up there with the Bears Den) and many locals as well as visitors from foreign countries have explored the cave.

While we lived in Whitlash I asked locals to take me to the cave. I got lots of promises to go but something always came up. Finally, after three years away from the Hills I got to experience a trip to the Devil's Chimney. Here's how the trip happened and what I experienced at the iconic locale.

A friend in Chester offered an invitation to hike

We met Gary and Bev Jensen, who are natives of the Chester area, before we ever moved to Whitlash through a bus tour we did together. Once we moved to the Hills we reconnected and Gary asked if I'd like to hike up to Devil's Chimney. Busy lives intervened but years ago, after we moved back to Chinook, Gary invited me to make the trip with him and a few friends. I was set to go and got sick, missed the trip.

This spring he set a date for a definite hike. Some of his family from out of the area asked to go and we had a group of six. Some of the other hikers, Gary's adult son, his daughter-in-law and a couple of adult grandkids had made the hike before. A few extra hands to shepherd a couple of old guys (Gary's a year older than me) could be a good thing if there was a problem. We met at Gary's house in Chester. Gary's wife, Bev, had fixed a hardy breakfast and by 9am we were headed for the east end of the Sweet Grass Hills.

The hike was about an eight mile round trip

First stop north of Chester was to sign a log book at the Meisner Ranch. Access to the Devil's Chimney requires passing through some private land that is part of the ranch. Gary, my friend, had contacted the ranch managers, Dan and Deb Wolery, about accessibility on the day we wanted to hike. Once he signed us in we continued on the public gravel road, then turned back west on to a gated two track.

About a mile up the two-track we came to a shepherd's cairn, the end of the "road." We parked, put on our day packs, made sure we had plenty of water (the forecast was for 90+ degree weather down on the prairie), climbed through a fence and started walking north toward a sweeping open area roughly between Mount Brown and Mount Lebanon. Mount Lebanon is the most eastward mountain that stands out when looking north to the Hills from US 2. A steady breeze kept us cool and seemed to discourage insects. After a half mile plus and steady climbing we entered the wooded slopes of the Hills.

Once in the woods we still followed a 'rough' two track and began to wind our way up and slightly northwest. The track became a foot path, sometimes hard to follow where the grasses had grown and hid the path. Gary Jensen, who estimates he's made this trek "about 50 times" said he'd never seen it so green this time of year in the Hills. His son, Craig, and nephew Nick, would sometimes scout perpendicular to us and go up or down the side of the mountain to find the path and keep us headed the right way.

Gary had warned about "a quarter mile of very difficult climbing" and an hour or so in to the hike we hit that stretch. It was a tough one, not just because of the abrupt gain in altitude but the trail had also deteriorated from runoff. The path was straight up the side of a very steep hill with no attempt to create switchbacks. At the top of the climb, now almost noon, we stopped, ate our lunch and rested. There were scattered trees on the knoll and we could look out on part of the prairie below us. From that distance we could see the grain fields on the eastern edge of the Golden Triangle.

Now on Bureau of Land Management we entered some heavier wooded areas where the path was sheltered from undergrowth. Treefalls blocked parts of the path causing short detours up into the woods.

Finally one more gate and our leader announced, "Down and around this slope and we will be there." When we finally emerged from the woods we were on a high, rock shelf overlooking a luscious meadow below. Gary started led me to the edge of the shelf, which was rock covered with small, loose rocks, to see the "top of the chimney," the hole up from the cave that gives the cave its name. I have to admit, shuffling over that unstable footing on the approximately 100 foot precipice was unsettling.

Four of us headed down to the cliff to the opening to the cave. The rock face was a combination of tree roots hanging on to the wall with interspersed rocky 'slides' that we had to go down in a sitting position, bracing on whatever was available with our feet and grabbing tree roots and rocks poking out from the wall. The entrance to the cave was a slit in the rock about two feet high and narrowing as one looked in to it.

Craig Jensen said, "It's a tight fit but a short run. After about 10-12 feet you can see light coming in from the hole in the roof of the cave. Nephew Nick went first. I was told, "Keep an eye on his shoe soles and keep moving." The opening was very narrow and required turning and crawling over a rock at the same time. I had on shorts and could feel the gravel tearing at my knees and elbows. Finally I saw light over Nick's shoes and, poof, we were in the room-a spectacular space about 50 feet high with sunlight pouring down from the "chimney hole" at the top and more light coming in from two "windows," (holes) in the cave wall. Crawl spaces led off in other directions but Craig told us to the best of his knowledge there was only the one way in and out.

Looking around one had to wonder, "Who else has been here over the years and how was it used by first people who wandered the area." Some native myths refer to how the Hills were created (with left over rocks from the major creation of the earth) and mythical beings often "holed up" in caves that might have been the Devil's Chimney.

It was time to start heading out so we reversed the process, down on one's stomach, digging in with elbows and pushing with feet to exit the cave. I don't mind admitting that seeing sunshine was a great feeling. We regrouped on the shelf above the entrance to the cave and started our trek back to the pickups.

The hike from the parking area to and from Devil's Chimney is about eight miles. My friend and his son, who had both been to the cave many times, said they were most surprised by the deterioration of the trail in places and how overgrown it had become. Gary Jensen said the wet spring might have caused the grasses to overtake the trail as, "I have never seen it this green up here this time of year."

BCJ correspondent Steve Edwards poses inside the Devil's Chimney next to the crawl space used to enter the cave. Notice the soles of a fellow hiker's shoes who is making his way out of the cave. The crawl space was about 10-12 feet long with a low roof and a right angle turn over a large boulder. Cave goers were encouraged to "follow the "soles of the shoes" of the hikers ahead of them in the entrance crawl space.

Back in Chester we unloaded our gear, gave our feet a rest and shared the adventure we had just completed with promises to share digital photos, etc. I told my friend Gary, "I can take a trip to Devil's Chimney off my bucket list." And to myself I realized why the locals I knew might have been reluctant to take me to the cave...it was a very exhausting jaunt.