And while the pass was likely known by early fur trappers, [5] its potential for use beyond foot traffic wasn’t recognized until the middle of the nineteenth century.

[6] Governor Stevens’ confident entry for September 5 (written years later) could have been colored by the events of a few days later: From the Little Dog, a prominent chief of the Piegan tribe [of Blackfeet], and a man of character and probity, I got a very particular description of the Marias Pass we were in search of.

[7] Undoubtedly feeling pressured by his duty to organize the newly-formed Washington Territory, Governor Stevens pressed on across the Rockies without locating Marias Pass.

Stevens dutifully reported Doty’s not-quite-successful results in the Survey report: Turning back on the 8th of June [1854], Mr. Doty retraced his route as far as the Marias, already referred to as issuing from a gap 15 miles wide, and along which was an old Indian trail, and followed it up on the trail for thirty miles to the southwest, finding no obstruction, except from trees; and at that distance, ascending a lofty hill, saw no mountains in the direction of the stream.

Marias Pass was finally explored and charted in December 1889 by John Frank Stevens, principal engineer of the Great Northern Railway (GN).

[10] The location of the pass had been rumored for decades beforehand, but it took Stevens and a Flathead guide named Coonsah, who had been hiding out with the Blackfoot in Browning, to discover it.

The pass proved ideal for a railroad, because its approach was broad and open, within a valley ranging from one to six miles wide, and at a gentle grade that would not require extensive excavation or rockwork.

Eleanor Roosevelt was later on hand to place a small copper box filled with a copy of the bill that appropriated funds for the memorial as well as some other documents into the cornerstone.