The construction of the East Shore Highway

Winding from Polson to Bigfork, Montana Highway 35 is like an asphalt roller coaster with its deep valleys, twisting turns, dense trees and drops to the shores of Flathead Lake.

The road’s current version, with its sparse shoulders, sparse guardrails and 50-mph speed limit, carries a mix of local traffic along with SUVs, RVs and large trucks, often towing tandem trailers. The result, especially during the tourist season, can be a mix of enchanting scenery and terrifying fear.

This densely forested route, hemmed in by the steep, rocky slopes of the Mission Mountains and the lakeshore, has bedeviled travelers for more than a century. Even in the early days of settlement in the Flathead Valley, transportation along the eastern shore of Flathead Lake, either on foot or on horseback, was difficult enough that many chose to make the trip by boat. A small fleet of steamboats operated on the lake, carrying passengers and freight between Polson and various points to the north, including Yellow Bay, Bigfork, Somers, and the long-vanished community of Demersville south of present-day Kalispell.

Travelers from far away could reach the upper Flathead Valley by passenger train beginning in the early 1890s, and could travel by train from Missoula to Ravalli even earlier. However, the distance between railroad crossings was often covered by horse, wagon, boat, or a long walk.

“Flathead Lake itself served as both an obstacle and a means of travel north and south,” noted historian Henry Elwood in his history, “Kalispell, Montana and the Upper Flathead Valley.” “The early settlers in the region generally found travel extremely difficult.”

Eventually, roads were built around the lake. Near the west shore, a road of sorts appeared in 1880, though one historian described it as “barely passable and open only seasonally.” The road underwent gradual improvements over the next few decades, eventually becoming what is now U.S. Highway 93.

A real road along the East Coast didn’t come for more than 30 years, and it took an enterprising warden and the strong backs of inmates to make it a reality. A statewide movement to improve roads and accommodate increasing automobile traffic began in the first decade of the 20th century. Nationwide, the use of convicts in construction projects became more common, and in Montana, the idea of ​​using convict labor gained traction.

“The greatest aid the state can give to the improvement of our highways can only come by employing the convicts on the roads,” proclaimed Montana Governor Edwin Norris in 1910.

The so-called “good roads” movement found support among other state officials and received the enthusiastic support of Frank Conley, who oversaw the operation of the state prison at Deer Lodge, part of which had been built with the help of convicts.

In March 1912, a crew of 40 to 50 prisoners began work on what became known as the East Shore Road. The project was initiated as part of an agreement between the state, prison officials, and Flathead County. The goal was to build a gravel road 20 to 24 feet wide, with drainage ditches on both sides. Flathead County (Lake County was not formed until 1923) agreed to provide equipment, including shovels, picks, horses, wagons, and scrapers. Area businesses donated money for horse feed and explosives.

The prisoners were paid 50 cents a day for backbreaking manual labor. While explosives and jackhammers were used to break up the abundant rock, removing the rock and creating the roadbed required horses, strong backs and hand tools. “It was hard work for those gangs of convicts, but there were rewards,” Jon Axline, a historian for the Montana Department of Transportation, noted in a recent interview. Axline researched and wrote an in-depth article on the use of convict labor that appeared in Montana: The Magazine of Western History in 2012.

The benefits of the East Shore Project included good meals, tented accommodations on Flathead Lake, and often evening music. But perhaps the biggest benefit was not having to endure the poor conditions of the Deer Lodge prison. The facility was overcrowded and had no indoor plumbing for years.

“I think it was a privilege to get out of there,” Axline said. Most of those who worked on the projects were serving time for theft, burglary or rustling rather than violent crimes. Surprisingly, the guards who supervised the convict laborers and camps were unarmed. On the East Shore project, the convict crew numbered 111 prisoners who worked hard for three seasons. There were only 13 escape attempts, the small number perhaps a reflection of the punishment: a quick return to Deer Lodge Prison.

Conley, the prison official, cast a glowing light on the use of forced labor by convicts: “There, in the freedom of the mountains, the petty criminal develops brain and brawn… From the brow of the burglar and bank robber drips the sweat of honest labor.”

Conley may have had more than just the welfare and rehabilitation of prisoners in mind with his strong support for forced labor. Although the prison was owned by the state, Conley and a partner operated it under contract for a number of years. When deals were made to use forced labor, at least some of the money ended up in the pockets of prison administrators.

Later, in addition to his prison role, Conley also became a state highway commissioner. When choosing projects for forced labor, “he decided who could use it and who couldn’t,” Axline says. “There was clearly a conflict of interest, because Conley probably made a lot of money off of forced labor.”

After the end of World War I, former military construction equipment was made available to states. Conley, as chairman of the state highway commission, added control over the distribution of equipment to his group of convicts.

“He certainly had his own little empire, not only in Deer Lodge but in Helena,” says Axline, who notes that there are mixed opinions about Conley’s historical legacy. “He was a complicated man, and you either loved him or hated him.”

Although progress on the East Shore Road initially proceeded steadily, the project was halted in 1913 by a disagreement between Flathead County and state officials over who should pay the guards. The disagreement ended with the state paying the guards.

The use of convict labor in Montana was controversial from the beginning. Organized labor, a powerful force in parts of the state for many decades, long opposed the practice. As demand for better roads grew, private highway contractors seeking work with state and local governments also criticized the convict labor program. The convict labor program ended in 1925, in part because of strong opposition.

More than 230 miles of state roads were built during the program’s approximately 12 years, including stretches of the state’s major highways. But the 27 miles of East Shore Road completed in 1914 at a cost to Flathead County of just under $32,000 represented the longest project completed with forced labor in Montana.

The road retained its gravel surface until 1938, when the section from Bigfork to Yellow Bay was paved. The remaining connection to Polson was not fully paved until 1949.

In 2021, an average of more than 2,500 vehicles a day traveled along Highway 35 near Yellow Bay, about halfway between Polson and Bigfork. The highway largely followed the winding route that convicts took more than a century ago.