Benchmark to Glacier National Park

The old bell rings as I push open the wood screen door that is covered in cracked old paint.  The light is coming in through the stained windows of the general store that carries ample supplies of boxed food, tackle, smokes and bear bells.  Everything that the little town of Augusta needs is right here, and nowhere else.

The kind folks who own the Bunkhouse Inn had picked me up from Benchmark.  They were new trail angels that offered to pick you up if you stayed at their hotel.  It was a nice place and you could see the ghosts of cowboys walking down the halls of the hotel if you looked hard enough.  I toured the 10-block town of Augusta, passing the library that had Internet, the bar with lawn mower racing and a yard creatively decorated with more lawn ornaments then there were people in the town.  I was able to resupply at the general store with enough food that I was sure I wouldn’t be running low this time.  Jerky, rice, chips, cookies, Oreo’s, hot sauce, candy bars of all varieties, dried fruit, Nature Valley granola bars, 3 tall boys of PBR and lotto tickets were all part of my resupply.

In the morning, a Ford pickup took us back to the trailhead we had left just 2 days prior to start our last stretch before feasting our eyes on what we had walked 2,500 miles for…. Glacier National Park.  But before we could make it there we had to make it through “The Bob”. A vast wilderness that is truly a gem when it comes to forests in the American West and houses the largest concentration of grizzly bears in the lower 48 states.  This was going to be fun!

We entered the Bob after crossing a bridge going over a fast river and are immediately engulfed in the vast wilderness.  We take our first break under a tree and are almost blacked out by the swarms of flies that engulf us.  I’m reminded of those infomercials you see on TV with kids from Ethiopia who have swarms of flies on them.  Sad of course but the flies would be our constant companies for the next couple of days whenever you were high on the passes.  I was saddened that day because we weren’t able to go see the famed Chinese Wall, a highlight of any CDT thru hike.  A fire had broken out a few weeks before we arrived so the trail through was closed due to still remaining small fires and fear of burnt trees falling on you.  I chose to be smart and cautions by going around but now regret my sensibility.  My only consolation that night was the fire red sky that surrounded us as we started to make dinner.  I stared into it to remember it forever and slowly close my eyes to have it burned into my memory.

In the morning I take off before the rest of the pack, heading over the pass we were all to exhausted to climb the night before.  I spent the morning hugging the mountain high and traversing to the West.  I passed the typical trial junction and instead took the detour around the Chinese wall.  Passing by outfitters cabins and campsites protected by electrical fences connected to car batteries.

I begin a slow steady climb up the side of a mountain and reach the trail junction that would take me to the worst pass I have ever experienced.  Switch Back Pass it was called and I can’t think of a better name for it then that.  It was switch back after switch back after switch back.  Every time you thought you were reaching the top it would just keep going.  I was sweating profusely, my thighs were burning and I could feel every single thing I was carrying in my pack.  There was no end in sight.  After several hours of climbing I finally made it to the top.  There waiting for me were a couple of people from my group who had passed me on the up hill and were resting from the beating we had just gotten.  Looking back now, the view at the top was spectacular but at that time I didn’t care, I was thirsty because I had drank all of my water hours before and the sun was starting to set ever so slightly that I knew my rest would be short lived.

I heaved my pack back on and made my way down the other side, winding past small patches of snow and scree  (loose rock) fields.  I passed a stream and “cameled” up on water; enough to let me drink to my hearts content all night.  We found a nice campsite off the trail because you don’t want to camp next to a trail; animals (a.k.a Grizzlies) use the same trails that you do and why make it easy for them.  We setup a nice camp, got a big fire going and let our bodies recover from the long day.  That night I slept hard.

I woke up at 6 am that morning, much earlier then my regular wake up time but full of energy.  I was up and out of camp by 6:30 ready to take on the day.  Tommy, a member of our group was also up early so we struck out on the trail before the others even woke up.  We winded our way past hidden lakes that sit nestled next to cliff faces and are a collection of snow run off.   The views open up across the valley that we will cover today and its breathtaking beauty almost takes your breath away.  We finally make it down to the bottom and come across a wide and fast river.  With no easy way to go across and the prospect of getting our feet wet this early in the morning is unappealing; we decided to do a sketchy crossing of tight roping across a  dead tree laying across the river about 50 yards up.  It wasn’t pretty but we made it.

The valley was a wash of mostly dead trees for sometime due to the burn that had gone through the area and had entered the Chinese wall area.  We get lost a couple of miles down the trail because it was wiped away by a mud slide that took out the tree’s and the trail, leaving only bear tracks and confusion.  1 hour later we finally find the trail and continue on a Ley purple route.  We pass a few hunters who seem to be hunting a buzz more then the grouse that are in season right now.  I chat with some of them for a minute and just pray that several hours from now they don’t mistake me for a grouse and shot me.

Mountain chicken a.k.a Grouse

The sun had dipped below the mountains to the west and we were still trekking in thick forest.  Tommy and I started downgrading our expectations for a desired campsite every 5 minutes as it got darker and darker.  We finally decided to just pick a spot and probably found the worst spot in the Bob we could.  Uneven ground and next to the trail with a little dry lake bed next to it with thick willows that I was certain held a grizzly family.  We hesitantly setup camp and hoped for the best.  Sadly, I found myself running low on water again.  That night a grizzly came wondering through our camp, sniffing around at our tents.  I had been very lazy hanging my food throughout Montana and now while I was resting my head on my nearly depleted food bag I regretted my laziness.  Luckily it had better things to do and moved on without incident but sleep that night was hard to come by.

Waking up early the next morning was easy and we cranked out the miles quickly.  We rested at Badger Station cabin where we could dry out our tents and bags and drink from its natural spring that pumped out of the ground.  We continued on after a quick meal and conversation with a local rancher.  He was a 4^th generation cattle rancher from the area and told us tales of wild cows in the forest and his distain for big cattle companies who ruin the land and drive down prices.

We made our final couple of miles following a forest road to Marias Pass which was our final large highway we would approach for the rest of the CDT.  We took a couple of final turns in the trees and then popped out at a car camping site and made our way to the road.  There we stopped and smiled as we finally…. after nearly 2,600 miles, we let the sight of Glacier National Park be absorbed into our eyes.  It was unbelievable and we started hooting, hollering and high fiving. We had made it.

Rogers Pass to Benchmark

Captain Meriwether Lewis and Second Lieutenant William Clark of the famed Lewis & Clark expedition were one of, if not the greatest explorer, in the new America’s.  They crossed the unknown land with shear brute and resolve.  75,607 days later I stand at Lewis and Clark Pass in much more pampered and humbling circumstances.

This section of the CDT is know as “The Rollercoaster” because of the extreme up and down over the next 56 miles to Benchmark, my next resupply.  The elevation gain gives no mercy, up and down the mountains that stare at you with a snicker.  I was tired, sweat pouring down my face and my thighs feeling every step.  My shoes were starting to give me problems with holes in the mesh around my toes that let in little pebbles causing me to stop frequently to shake them out.  Water is an issue when your walking ridges because there is no water on ridges, those pools and streams are down the mountain and I sure don’t feel like going lower and then coming back up just for a couple liters of water.   Yet, with all these obstacles I felt immense happiness and pride.

I wake up still tired from the tough climbs from yesterday and start eating what I’ve nicknamed “vitamins’ but its Tylenol.  Since I’m prone to developing blood clots I take Coumadin, a blood thinner, so I’m not able to take the traditional thru hiking vitamin, Ibuprofen, which is better for inflammation but Tylenol is better then nothing.  I’m sure my liver or kidney hates me but my legs and back appreciate it.  I begin hiking in the gorgeous, challenging ridges. The view down to one of the valleys is gorgeous and while hiking down I try my best at being Ansel Adams, playing with every setting on my camera; Black and white, Vibrant, Sunset and a bunch of other stuff I have no idea what it does.

I spend miles walking the ridges then dropping down and back up the defined trail while soaking in the view and clouds that are moving past at high speeds.  The lodge pole pines are barely covered with anything as they struggle to even survive at these altitudes and tough conditions.  I skirt past dried up ponds that South Bounders probably used to quench their thirsts months earlier and I wonder what the landscaped looked like to them vs. what I see now.  Moving slowly again up a mountain I’m almost happy that my pack is light.  Its only light because I’m low on food, only about 2 days left of food and more importantly only 2 snickers and a half bag of chips.  This is a problem because candy has become my main stable at this point.  I’m consuming about 6,000 calories a day to keep my body going and I know that I’m not reaching that at all.  I start eating half rations, swallowing my pride and not ask my other hikers for any of their food because that would be like asking for a first-born or for them to carry my tent.  No way, to much pride.

Instead I just crank the music coming through my Yurbuds and start singing along to the Fugee’s.  Hip hop is great while hiking because its got a good beat that keeps you going and like any runner knows the right beat can keep you motivated.  I’m singing loudly as I start descending the mountain coming into the trees.  I turn a corner and smack.  I fall to the ground in pain, rolling around on the forest floor grabbing my right foot as it’s throbbing in pain.  I look back and see the small stump I had just slammed my right foot into.  My toe is throbbing and bleeding.  I’m worried I broke the toe.  I think about just amputating it and moving on but my little blade would probably cause more harm then good.  I instead just sit there for about 5 minutes, pop some ‘vitamins’ and keep going with the pain subsiding the next day.

Being in the Scapegoat Wilderness which is part of the 1.5 million acre Bob Marshall Wilderness Complex is surreal, such a vast wilderness that swallows you.  Its full of bears, bighorn sheep, bald eagles, falcons and moose but I had not seen any of them yet.  Rainbow trout the length of my arm and northern pike gracefully glide in streams waiting for dinner to come by.  I wish I had my fly rod with me now more then ever as I know that this deep in the wilderness, they are rarely tempted by my mere mortal flies.  My biggest joy is the sweet tasting water. It is hands down the best tasting water I have ever and probably will ever drink.  The water is so clear, so pure that it’s hard to believe that it’s real.  It touches my lips and I can already feel its immediate absorption into my body.   To treat this water would be like watering down a 100-year-old bottle of Don Perion, it just isn’t done.

I make a few more winding turns on the trail and start noticing more foot prints, more evidence of civilization and realize I must be getting close to Benchmark.  I pass a couple of day hikers, a older couple out for the sights gripping their bear spray tightly next to their hip.  One last turn and I hit the trailhead and the dirt road.  I throw my pack off and sit down leaning up against the old trailhead board and pull out my food bag.  I find one lonely cherry starburst sitting at the bottom of the bag and nothing else.  I unwrap it, pop it into my mouth and wait for my ride down to Augusta.

Helena to Rogers Pass

Taking a shower after 10 days is a great feeling.  The mud, dirt and grime of your body washes away, sloshing down the drain and quickly forgotten.  How much dirt and grime I put down the drain is a badge of honor and this time it didn’t disappoint. We were dropped off at the Lamplighter Motel, a collection of small individual ‘bunkhouses’ that accommodated various sized groups.  The owner was a kind man who offered us a little discount because we were hikers but crammed 5 of us into a 2-room bunkhouse.  It’s a crazy atmosphere with 5 people in one little room.  It’s a yard sale of clothes, groceries, beer cans, cell phones, drying sleeping bags and cameras being charged and prepared for the next section.  My first stop was the grocery store to pick up all the cravings I had during the last section including chicken, grape gatorade and popcorn.  With my food needs satisfied, the group settled in to watch the beginning of the NFL season with my beloved Broncos playing their season opener.  We slept that night two to a bed with the smell of nasty shoes and Taco Bell clinging in the air. The next morning came on like a tidal wave.  The guy who had dropped us off called and said he could take us back to the pass at 9 am.  It was 8:30 am.  I had hoped to hang out more in town and relax but a guaranteed ride is hard to pass up.  I couldn’t decide but soon opted for the guaranteed ride.  I now had 15 minutes to shop for the 64-mile section to Rogers Pass, which would get me to Lincoln for resupply.  You would have thought I was on the old 90’s  TV show Super Market sweep for how fast I got all my grocery shopping done. Before I knew it, I was riding in the back of the pickup, waving good-bye, ending my “lengthy” 12-hour stay in Helena. The trail snaked up and around the mountain.  I opted to take the Ley purple route, staying low in the valley versus going up high on the divide because of the thick clouds in the distant.  Walking the dirt roads for a few hours I found a nice patch of shade and had a quick lunch.  Surprisingly I got a call from my mom who lives in Europe and I Skyped with her awhile, sitting in the shade of the trees.  All was well until a large crack broke the conversation.  I quickly, and probably to my mothers horror, hung up while yelling something like ‘Here it comes!’.   I quickly threw on my rain gear and battened down my pack and walked right into the storm.  The marble sized hail came with a fury, slamming into my head and body from all angles.  Trickles of water quickly collaborated with the others to create large streams where there once was a dirt road.  I cowered under a tree that offered little protection and after a while I just said “to hell with it” and walked out into the bombing of hail.   The hail bombardment continued for a solid 30 minutes before letting up and the sun finally smiled on me again.

Hail bombardment

Twice this size before melting in my hand

I was walking alone and climbed even higher into the Helena National Forest feeling great.  That day I learned that I actually enjoy being wet, cold and a little miserable while hiking.   Cresting a ridge I found my next water source, which I definitely felt in need of.  I opened up the lid of the spring and found it to be nearly empty.  I was able to get enough water out of it for that night and a little for the next day to make it.   I would later learn that the group behind me would find it in even worse condition, filled with dead squirrels that had fallen in. My nose awoke me the next morning.  It was a clean smell; a freshness that absorbed into my nostrils.  I rolled to my side, still in my sleeping bag and peeked out under my vestibule and saw that I was surrounded in mud thick fog.  I could barely see 15 feet from the tent.  It was a slow moving ghost of white that flowed over me like a stone in a creek. I crawled out of my bag and stood outside my tent with my bare feet sending a cold mossy chill up my body as the fog engulfed me.  It was the freshest air I had ever smelled in my life.  I raised my arms out, puffed out my chest, tilted my head back, opened up my nose and took a long deep breath.  The air quickly ran down my throat, into my lungs and was absorbed throughout my entire body.  I was cleansed.  I was free and I knew it. The whole day was full of amazing hiking.  The fog rolled in and over me all day leaving the forest mysterious and medieval.  Pine trees with green moss hanging from its limbs and fog hiding everything else in the background.  The fog was my mistress, teasing me with quick flashes of distant peaks and trail.  I snaked up and down the crest of the mountain excited to feel its next move and tantalizing surprise. This day had been an experience that I would soon not forget.  The day ended with a continued rain but I didn’t care.  I was happy and content.  I made it to Stemple Pass where a hunter invited me into his RV for hamburger steak and 2 tasty beers.  I slept that night with a smile stretched across my face. In the morning I woke to a revived spirit, one that was ready to tackle the trail with no worries, only focus on the end goal.  I hiked along the mix of trail and dusty dirt road having to choose between the confusing official CDT route and or the alternates.  Thinking I was on the alternate I headed around a mountain and came to a clearing.   An established trail was to my left; a more defined one was on the right.  I choose right.  Wrong choice.  I went for about 2 miles, always looking back, questioning my decision.  Finally I realized I had taken a wrong turn.  Instead of turning around and going back the way I came, I figured why not just go cross country and connect back up with the trail I should have gone with.  I was in the middle of the woods, following game trails that lead nowhere but somewhere.  I knew I was in the middle of nothing but kept going thinking that eventually I would hit a road I saw on my map but wasn’t particularly sure if I would.  The place was uninviting but not scary.  I decided to just keeping going, assuming it was the best course of action at this point.  Stop thinking and just go. I hit a road about 2 hours later and followed it to what I figured was an intersection with the trail I should have been on from the get go.  I needed to clear my head so I sat there, drying out my gear from the night before, digging into my food bag finding whatever chocolate I had left.  I eventually went cross -country to meet up with the original trail and followed it until nightfall, giving up on the ridge walk that awaited me in the morning. In the morning I woke up to beautiful conditions of more fog and clouds that covered my path.  It was glorious.  I was high up on a ridge that was obscured with clouds rolling through, up and over the ridge.  I felt like I was part of the clouds and not just passing through.  This lasted for about 15 miles before coming down the mountain to Rogers Pass and my highway to Lincoln.  I was semi-happy to have hit the road, not really needing to get to town other than to satisfy my stomach’s desire for the indulgences of town food.  I put out my thumb in the cold and waited for a ride.  No ride came.  I didn’t care deep down if someone stopped or not, I was in the zone, fully charged and ready to tackle the trail.  My trail friends popped out of trees and I noticed them out of the corner of my eye.  I felt happy to see them, and ready to abandon my hitchhiking quest. After standing by the side of the road for the better part of 2 hours I felt ready to hike, instead of hitchhiking. It was 53 miles to my next resupply in Benchmark.  My food bag was getting a little light but I had bought more food then I needed in Helena.  Maybe I would make it on what I had to eat or maybe I would go hungry for a day or so. What I lacked in food I made up in desire to keep going and not stop.  I was ready for the next section dubbed “The Roller Coaster”.

New Data book for the CDT 2014

Here’s a great resource for the 2014 class of CDT hikers.  Its a Data book  compiled by Beacon, a great CDT hiker that lists, mileage, notes, water sources and pretty much step by step instruction on the CDT.  These are great guides to help you on your trip.  Use these as a resource, not a end all to your on trail navigation.

 

Here’s what’s new for the 2014 version

-Nobo & Sobo versions

-Alternate routes now included at the end of the Data Book.

-Available in Word & Excel versions

-Font & Margins can be edited to your preference

 

Here’s a link to download the latest version:
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/0k3kuajiekizzin/6t67Dnd28E/Beacon%27s%20CDT%20Databook

 

Thanks to Beacon and Wired for sharing this new update!

Butte to Helena

I arrived in Butte with a good spirit, having just joined my new group of hikers who allowed me to join them on the trail for however long I wanted to.  I was excited to be with a new group, to have some new experiences and learn from these 3 other hikers that were on their way to achieving their triple crown (Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest Trail & Continental Divide Trail).

We spent a couple of days resting in the cramped confines of a two queen bed hotel room for the 5 of us, 1 of them being a old friend of my new group from Oregon who was in the neighborhood.  We ate Chinese food, enjoyed the local brewery and I saw my first and only movie on the trail on Labor Day.  I was grossly disappointed with the movie but at least the movie theatre experience made me feel a apart of society again, that I was once again capable of doing normal things.  We spotted a Labor Day picnic at a community park hosted by the local electrical and pipe fitters union where there was free hotdogs and soda to be had and being cheap hikers we were obligated to stop by and consume our 3 hotdogs and 4 bags of chips like any true American.

After a couple of days of leisure we started back on the trail right where we had stopped.  I was only about a mile outside of Whitehall but my other companions were about 4 miles behind me.  A farmers market that offered up fresh local produce and cookies that I was happy to buy and enjoy immediately distracted me.  My companions passed me after finding a too comfortable tree to enjoy my new food.  Walking the roads several people stopped to ask what we were doing and I gave them my regular response.  Most said that’s great but a few said that’s crazy.

That day was all about road walking, going under the bridge of highway 90 as the cars and trucks zipped by at high speeds and then entering the local forest area on the east side of Butte.  Walking the gravel roads of forest areas is a big part of a CDT hike and they can be methodical and boring.  I was lucky enough to be recommended a new podcast ‘Things you should know’ and was enjoying learning about how ejector seats work, universal health care and diving bells.  Podcasts are a great way to make the miles just slip away.  That night we slept in a typical car camping spot while our friend from Oregon met up with us and brought pizza and beer.  The next morning we rose with a purpose but not the usual one.  It was Sunday and that meant that the newest episode of Breaking Bad was on AMC and we did not want to miss it. It would be a 17-mile day and we had to be done by 5 to get back to a hotel room that had AMC and watch our show that night.  We all walked with a purpose that day even if it was for a T.V show.

You hike for different reasons every day

After we all injected or should I say snorted our Breaking Bad fix we were off again, entering the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National forest.  We had 71 miles to go to get to Helena and we were back on the official CDT after taking the Big Sky Variant due to time restraints and fires.   We made it up Champions Pass and through some pretty normal hiking that had good water sources, easy to follow trail signs, big open views and old mining towns long ago abandoned.  Excitingly as we sat next to the trail one day for lunch 2 old friends happened to turn the corner and walk right into us.  We hadn’t seen them in several weeks and it was great to be back with them.  Immediately we started talking about which sections had sucked, what town was cool and what goodies we had decided to carry.  We had ourselves a little party at camp that night and it was great to be amongst friends.  I knew that night was one to be cherished and remembered as only a night like that can be.

We all hiked at different speeds so it was a constant game of leapfrog as you went.  One person would stop for a break as the other person kept going until you started up again and caught back up to them.  Each person was in their own worlds, listening to their music, books, podcasts or the sound of their own feet.  The trail would take you up high to gorgeous views and then surround you in woods that looked like no one had hiked them in a long time.  You’re brought back to reality when you pass huge power lines as they buzz with electricity and make eerie sounds as the wind passes around them.

After only 3 days we covered the 71 miles to McDonald Pass, which was our highway to hitch into Helena.  The view before you hit the highway was a vast expanse of forest and a large open valley to the east where Helena waited for us.  It was a gorgeous view and one that I will remember.  I arrived at the pass, second only to Bonelady, who was drying out her sleeping bag from last nights rain waiting for us to arrive.  I had chatted up some nice tourist at the ‘lookout’ but that did not lead to a ride into town.  It’s all about chatting up the people you can actually talk to to get a ride because that is much easier then putting out your thumb and hoping for the best.  Eventually 5 out of 6 of us were at the pass and a nice guy pulled over and immediately asked if we were CDT hikers.  We said yes and he mentioned how we were going to be the 15^th hikers he was taking into town.  We had great trail magic with someone who knew what we were all about.   We piled into his truck leaving one person behind to catch his own ride.  Now this isn’t considered rude mind you.  We had waited for as long as we could and you can’t jeopardize a ride that can take 5 hikers to town.  If we had let this ride slip away we wouldn’t have been considered nice but idiots.  So we drove off heading into Helena for a day of rest and the fried chicken I had been dreaming about for the past several days.

HIKER TO TOWN

Apps for Thru Hiking

I brought a phone with me on my thru hike, yes a phone, and in the end I was very happy I did.  Some say that a phone takes away from your experience, which it can, but if used correctly as a tool, it can enhance your hiking experience, not hinder.  I used it to stay in touch with family and friends, check the weather ahead, listen to audio books, read books, get intel on the trail ahead, listen to music, take pictures and video, transfer photos, listen to podcasts and keep a audio journal.  Apps helped to enrich my experience on the trail.

OverDrive Media Consule:  Do you have a library card?  If yes, then you can use this great app to connect to your local libraries digital collection of ebooks & audio books.  After you’ve downloaded the app, you enter in your library card number and start searching your libraries collection.  You can scroll through hundreds if not thousands of titles to download to your phone in several formats that are available whenever you want. I listened to a total of 19 audio books on my thru hike.  It was a great way to use the time I had to learn about things I normally wouldn’t read about or catch up on all the things I wanted to learn about.  Starting and stopping your progress was easy and you can borrow the title for 14 days to listen/read your selection.   You can also put holds on titles that aren’t currently available and get an email notification when it’s ready for you to download.

Smart Voice Recorder:  After hiking 25 miles the last thing I wanted to do was type a diary entry on my phone.  I started out using a word program but after losing several entries due to crashes I gave up and downloaded this app.  Being able to simply push a button and record my thought and feelings without having to stumble through typing was great.  You have so much emotion on the trail that listening to your tone, mood and feelings afterwards brings you back.  I also recorded random thoughts and great reminders to do that day, next town stop or just stupid random thoughts.  The recordings are crisp, void of any dead noise and easy to transfer from my phone to computer.  No more worrying about spelling or my fat fingers messing something up.

Spotify:  Music, music, and music!!!  I listened to a ton of music on my hike.  Everything from Rage Against the Machine, Rolling Stones, Wutang Clan, B.B King, Elvis and everything in between.  For only $10 a month for the Premium subscription, you can download as many titles to your phone as it can handle.  I enjoyed listening to music before but wasn’t able to listen to a lot of it that was unknown to me.  I had the opportunity to listen to bands and artist I never heard of by following the ‘recommendations’ tab and other music by similar artists.  I’m now a fan of blue grass, classical and techno.  The sound of the birds and trees are great but when you need to get moving nothings better then putting on my headphones and listening to Gogol Bordello’s – Trans-Continental Hustle to get you moving!

iPP Podcast:  Podcasts are a great way to keep up with all the things that you love.  This app was easy to download and subscribing to podcasts was even easier.  All of your subscriptions are easy to track and new episodes are downloaded when you get back into cell reception.  You can store them for however long you like or can delete them once you’ve listened to it.  The podcasts I listened to most were:  Tara Brach (Dharma Talks & Guided Meditations) NPR Fresh Air, This American Life, The Truth, The Moth, TedTalks, Brewing TV and Stuff you should know.

Facebook:  I’m not a huge fan of Facebook but was an invaluable tool while on the trail.  The CDT thru hikers had a Facebook page, CDT 2013, that helped us keep everyone informed on trail conditions, best/cheap places to eat and sleep and to find out where your friends were.  Is the trail rerouted in the Winds?  Is the fire still raging out of control in southern Colorado?  What’s the best burger joint in Grants?  Facebook had it all.  Also, eventually you will get lonely on the trail so keeping up with friends and family back home and sharing your experience with them helps make your trip even more special.

P.S ( I had a Android phone but many of the above apps are available on the iPhone as well)

Do you bring electronic devices with you when you hike?  Which ones and why?

Big Sky to Butte

I sat shivering on the bus stop bench after being dumped off at the base of Big Sky Ski resort.  Having spent the night in a park in Bozeman and getting drenched by the parks sprinkler system at 5 am started my day off on the wrong path.  Now I just wanted to get warm and get my mood into a better place.

Walking up to the base I found a visitor center and met ‘Chad’ a mountain concierge who asked me how my overnight hike went; assuming I was a tourist who ventured out for the evening.  I gave him a slight smile and explained my already scripted CDT story.  I think he saw my desperation for a warm place to relax and charge my phone.  He took me to the hotel across the way and got me an access card to the fitness center.  Another act of kindness from a complete stranger. This place was heaven!  Stocked with showers, sauna, shampoo, conditioner, TV and places to hang my gear out to dry.  I spent the next 3 hours taking full advantage of everything; getting my core warm with a long hot shower, drying gear and going through my food resupply.

Leaving Big Sky with dry gear and a warm core lifted my spirits.  I left town staring at the beauty of the mountain and promising myself to come back and ski here one day.  I turned on my newest audio book, Ted Turners autobiography “Call Me Ted”, began following Jay Road, a private dirt road with many millionaire’s homes, winding over and through the mountains.

The next day I stood in an open valley surrounded by hay fields and beautiful farms that seemed to go on forever.  There is something beautiful about being in the middle of a large valley surrounded by fields, watching high thin clouds, and a truly big sky.

Crossing the Madison River I entered the town of Ennis, MT population 900, on the town’s main street that served as its main corridor.    After eating at the  local pharmacy/diner I found the local library and hopped on the computer to catch up on some blog posts and overdue emails to friends.  Many of these small town libraries have time limits of 50 minutes on the Internet, so you have to type fast or beg the librarian for more time, which is usually accomplished with a small donation.  I still had plenty of food from my Big Sky resupply but I bought some small treats and snacks that I couldn’t pass up.  I had been planning on leaving that same day but after long phone calls home, eating at the diner again and some general wondering around the sun was setting and I didn’t want to get stuck on the side of the highway for the night.  Instead I ended up hanging out in the back of the library where their Wifi reached and I caught up on the first 3 episodes of the new second half of Breaking Bad on my phone.  It was fun to squat behind the back of a library snacking and watching shows.  I finished my last episode at 11:30 pm and simply laid out my sleeping bag between the library and the house next to it in the dark shadows hoping I wouldn’t get caught.  Thankfully I didn’t, instead I caught a great nights sleep!

Nice place to camp

Heading up the highway towards McAllister the sky opened up with a flash of rain that sent me running towards an old bar with an overhanging roof.  There I stayed until some other thru hikers came by and sat under the overhang with me.  One of them, Bone Lady, had found some money as she was walking the road and then more, and then eventually finding a pile of credit cards, hunting/fishing license and a total of $375 in cash!  Thankfully we found a phone number on the fishing license and called the relieved owner who had left it on top of his car.  We agreed to leave the contents at the post office across the street for him to pick up later.  Thru hiking karma points!

We turned off the road at McAlister and began walking on a dirt road that lead us into the Tobacco Root Mountains in the Beaverhead National Forest, a 26 mile long and 18 mile wide wilderness full of 10,000 ft peaks, lakes and old mining claims.  Walking up the road, reaching a high point, I looked back into the valley of where I had just been and with the shine of Ennis Lake and the Spanish Peaks with the Big Sky mountains in the background.  I closed my eyes to lock in that view in my memory forever.  It was truly amazing.

The next morning we continued on the hike up the forest road, watching the clouds creeping in over the range to the west of us.  We knew we were going to get hit by them but when and how bad was another question.  Shortly after pondering this question, the clouds came in and unleashed a world of hell on us.  The rain came down hard, like buckets of water being poured on us with the wind and cold right behind it.  I hid under a scraggly group of trees that offered little protection but at least made me feel like I was somewhat protected.  My MLD pack cover was keeping the contents of my pack dry but I was another story for the most part.

After about 30 minutes of non-stop rain it suddenly came to an end.  Content with my future of walking through mud and cold I continued on.  Shortly after passing a barrier to keep out the jeeps and off road vehicles I reconnected with my fellow thru hiker, Cheese, who had hid only about a 100 yards ahead of me.  As we walked ahead on the trail we chatted but noticed the second wave of clouds approaching.  Cheese, being a veteran thru hiker and on the CDT to complete his Triple Crown, saw the signs and started setting up his tent.  Not one to be left out, I helped him setup quickly and as soon as we got inside, the second wave had reached us.  This time the rain came down harder then before with bigger rain drops, stinging wind and cold and it was relentless.  We hid inside that tent listening to Bob Dylan, Rage Against the Machine and Black Joe Lewis & The Honey Bears pouring out of my phones speakers.

One hour passed before the rain let up and we packed up Cheese’s drenched tent into his pack.  We hiked up and over the pass that was covered in old mining equipment long along left behind; it must have been cheaper to leave it behind then to bring it back out.  Coming down the trail was reminisce of old cabins, cables and every kind of mining equipment you could think of.  I always try to imagine the life of those miners who had lived here before, how they had lived, where they were from and about the day that they left.

Emerging off the trail we were back on a dirt road that lead us to the town of Mammoth, a very small cluster of houses that looked abandoned but still lived in.  It was a very cool looking town; the kind you know you could survive any looming zombie apocalypse in.   I wish I could have met some of the people who lived there but no one was in sight and knocking on a door was not an option.

The next morning was cool, with a slight frost on my tent, which is just how I like it.  It was a good morning because I knew that within 23 miles I would be taking respite in Whitehall that night, sipping a beer with my feet kicked up.  Unfortunately it would be dirt roads and pavement for 20 miles to get me there but nonetheless I was excited for the day.  Dirt roads never bother me but the main paved roads were different because of the traffic and percentages were against me.  The best part of my walk into Whitehall was the apple a group of older women gave me as I walked past their property.  They asked if I was a hitchhiker, which I explained I wasn’t and told them about my hike.  They were amazed and offered me a fresh picked apple from the tree.  They said they were collecting them to make some pies that night, so I jokingly said I would be walking past again tomorrow to get a slice!

As I approached Whitehall, Cheese told me that a friend of theirs was going to pick them up at Whitehall and take them into Butte where they would be taking a zero day.  I was ready to take a zero but felt bad leaving the guy I had been hiking with for the past month, who unfortunately was not getting along with the other 3 hikers.  We had been having some tension building between us for a while and I was ready to hike with a new group.  I made the tough decision to tell him I was leaving and essentially had to break up with him on the side of the highway.  He was ready to hike alone anyways so I feel it was mutual but it was still a little awkward. I began getting excited about moving on from Whitehall into Butte.   As I hopped into the back of Dirty Feet’s pickup, I waved good-bye to Flippi and looked into the setting sun looking forward to the cold beer waiting for me in Butte.

Gardiner to Big Sky

Top of Windy Pass

The noise woke me up as I was lying in my bag.  The rustling started around me and the movements got my attention as I rolled onto to my side to peek out of my sleeping bag.  This morning it’s not the bears I’m worried about. It’s the bikers.

After getting dinner in Gardiner, MT just outside of the North Yellowstone entrance I came upon a football field full of tents.  It was the 3^rd stage of the Cycle Greater Yellowstone bike race campground, complete with a showering truck, restrooms and a full breakfast buffet in the morning.  Contemplating a night sleeping on the side of some dirt road, I decided to at least ask if my friends and I could join them on the nice soft grass of the football field and maybe get a shower.  After talking with the event director and promising not to be a problem, we were welcomed into the group.  I decided to cowboy camp as it was a nice night and made my way to the shower truck which is just as it sounds…  a truck and trailer with about a dozen cubby showers in it.  The water was hot and it felt great.

In the morning we woke up slowly and gathered our gear.  Word had gotten out to the competitors about us, so people were approaching, wishing us good luck and letting us know how they were jealous of our trip.  I was jealous of their ability to ride a bike for hundreds of miles, so I guess we were even.  With full bellies we started out on the alternate to our previous alternate route around a fire that had been burning in Yellowstone.  We walked the dirt road opposite highway 89 and the Yellowstone River, passing acres of farmland.

We then turned west into the Gallatin National Forest and the Lower South Rock Trailhead.  The campground there was empty so we made ourselves right at home with a big fire after getting wet in a short downpour.  The next day my goal was to go up and over Windy Pass.  The trail was indistinct due to lack of use but beautiful, with many of the trees covered with lichen that was a bright neon green.   The long switchback climb up Windy Pass seemed never ending and when I did finally reach the top, I was welcomed with a soft rain.  Regardless, the pass was wide open, covered in grass with several small lakes.  The clouds were thick and the wind was calm, as the prairie-like vista opened up to a small peak to the north.  An old cabin stood hidden in the trees – a symbol of the rugged lives that men who had come before me had lived.  I would not have wanted to live up in this place, but someone else found it to be their paradise.  Making my way back down off the mountain on the Windy Pass trail, I ended up at the Upper Portal Trailhead.  Hiking up and over the pass was fun, but now I had a 22 mile forest road walk to the highway near Big Sky.  With the sun starting to disappear over the steep mountains to the west, I quickly made dinner on the road.  This was my new technique in bear country.  Stop and make dinner before walking a mile or so to where I would find camp.   This would prevent the odors of cooking to linger in my camp attracting unwanted animals that I would have to spray with my trusty bear, which I kept handy as I slept.  That night I slept right off the forest road in a previously established site, complete with shotgun shells, Natural Ice beer cans and shards of clay targets and glass.  I hate these sites but you can’t be picky when it’s already dark.

Leaving early in the morning, I made it to the highway and decided to hitch into Bozeman.  Highway 191 leads directly into the town so I assumed it would be an easy hitch and the traffic was moderate to heavy at times.  Regardless, it took over 1 ½ hours get a ride from a seasonal worker from Big Sky to pick us up and drop us off in the middle of town.  Having been to Bozeman once before many years ago I had a good general layout of the town.  The downtown is where the bars and tourist shops are, the college is to the south and then everything else surrounds it.  It’s a beautiful town with a good vibe, but during my time there it was crowded since it was “parents bring your kids to college week and hope they make it the next 4 years”.  All of the hotels were booked and pricy.  My hiking partner and I started our walk around town looking for a cheap room after some Internet investigation.  Most of the time the cheap hotels are on the outskirts of town and are locally owned, not major chains.  The first one looked OK, but at $85 for a tiny double twin room with a shower that ran like a drinking fountain, we thought we’d keep looking.  I’m not a shy person so I didn’t hesitate asking a local police officer where the cheap hotels were, or as I put it “where do you get all the disturbance calls?”  He mentioned the one we had just looked at and he gave us a warning to stay away from the Continental Motor Inn, it’s the worst.  So we headed there immediately.  The cop was right, it looked like a crack den.  We ended up at a budget motel just west of the downtown area that was actually a nice room with a crazy-good showerhead but no laundry onsite, which was a bummer.

The next day we decided to take a zero day to rest up and run some errands.  My hiking partner was having trouble with his kid’s college financial aid and I needed to get across town before noon to pick up my resupply box from the post office.  Not realizing the time, I literally had an hour to run to the post office that was closing at noon, which was 4.5 miles away.  After an exhausting run through the neighborhoods of Bozeman I arrived at the post office. Turns out it actually closed at 1 pm.  I was pissed.  Hiking and running are two different things so my legs were shot and I was tired.  I made a stop at the local REI to pick up a map I thought we needed for the next section and to get new socks, since mine were full of holes.  Outside REI, I hopped on a local bus and got back to the hotel where I found my hiking partner enjoying the daily drink special of double screwdrivers in the casino bar for only $3.  We watched the Bronco game while we enjoyed our screwdrivers.

With no place to stay and not wanting to pay for another night in a hotel we became true hiker trash by sleeping in a local park.   We decided on Cooper Park, which was close to the college and the bus stop that would take us to Big Sky in the morning.  It ended up being the most miserable night’s sleep for me on the entire trail.  Hiding in some bushes near the far west end we were woken up by drunken college students leaving the bars, people walking their dogs late at night and the “unconfirmed” drug dealer who had people coming and going from his house all night.  Sleeping in a park was nerve racking because you don’t want the cops to give you a hard time and you don’t want some random stranger to mess with you either.  Everything came to a wet end when after finally falling asleep at 4:30 am I was awakened by the sprinkler system spraying me in the face and drenching everything I owned.  Not just one sprinkler but about 4 of them and I was in the line of fire of all of them.  I quickly jumped out of my bag, yelling at the sprinklers and dragged my drenched sleeping bag and backpack to a bench far from the spraying water.  I was soaked!   Everything I owned was soaked.  Pissed off, I stuffed everything into my pack and started the walk to the bus stop where I would be picked up in two hours.  I was in a foul mood I didn’t talk much with my hiking partner, since he’d had the same experience. Sometimes it’s better to say nothing than something.

Finished!! Hello Canada!

Oh man, I can’t believe I’m saying this but I REACHED THE CANADIAN BORDER!!!   I can’t believe that I made it and am thrilled that I’ve accomplished my goal.  Thanks Grannyhiker and OregonTrail for checking in on me, things have been crazy trying to get things in order.  I apologize for being behind on my blog posts but trying to find a computer in small Montana towns had been very difficult.  I’ll be doing some catch up work in the next week.  I’ve got some great stories of what happened in Montana including the hike through the Tobacco Range, sleeping in a public park in Bozeman, finding a wallet with $350 inside, avoiding fires & hunters in the Bob Marshall Wilderness and my cold and snowy finish in Glacier National Park!  Stay tuned.

Jackson through Yellowstone

A swollen foot.

Nothing could be worse on a long hike than a swollen, bruised up foot.  I had been mentally tormented by the condition of my foot for the past four days.  I was happy to finally see the black and blue disappearing from the bottoms of my foot after four days of relaxing.  The new shoes I picked up at the post office helped me realize that relief was here for my feet and that I could finally get back on the trail and stop worrying about problems that weren’t there anymore.

A fire started in the upper portions of the Wind Rivers range the day I had gotten out, so the CDT was closed and I couldn’t get back on the trail to finish that section.  I was upset because I had been looking forward to that section for years, but once again I wouldn’t see it come true.  Instead, I had to bypass the upper Winds and start back up at Togatte Pass.  As long as Yellowstone wasn’t on fire I would at least see them.

Going around Brooks Lake I was now in certified Grizzly country and that was obvious with the no camping signs around the lake due to recent grizzly activity.  A couple of cowboys passed me with their wrangler jeans, cowboy hats and classic six shooters on their hips.  They warned me of 2 grizzly cubs hanging around Upper Brooks Lake and that I should watch out.  That’s one way to get introduced to this area.  I hiked down the trail keeping a vigilant eye out for the cubs with my own modern version of a six shooter on my pack… a can of bear spray.  I practiced reaching into my backpack’s left side pocket to grab my bear canister, releasing the safety lock and spraying a grizz if he came near me.  I practiced over and over again as if getting ready for my standoff at the OK Corral.  It felt silly, but I felt prepared if a bear came towards me and I had to spray it.

After 2 days of walking through open meadows, on a winding trail up and down small ravines, I came to my new route, the Super Butte Cut off.  This one is an alternate to the official CDT and was a way for me to take a short cut to Butte, Montana.  I was getting really worried about winter coming since many of the locals said it was going to be an early one.  From where I was that day I would have had to hike 22.67 miles a day to make it to the border by October 7th.  If I took the cut-off I would make it there by the last days of September and lessen my chances of not finishing.  I hate to leave the actual trail but, in order to finish I had to take the cut-off.  The beauty of the cut-off is that you actually spend more time in Yellowstone and go through Big Sky country as well.  This was not what I had planned, but I was still looking forward to the adventure and would still be hiking the whole way, not skipping any miles.

At Two Oceans Pass the trail traveled North East towards the boundary of Yellowstone.  This is the least visited section of Yellowstone and the most remote.  This area is so remote that there is a spot that is, factually, the most remote spot in the lower 48 states.  Its is the point that is farther from any road in America and I would be there.

Entering the valley I was struck by the raw beauty that was around me.  A large river valley full of willows and peaks seemed to go on forever.  The Yellowstone river flowed through this valley that housed bear and elk.  I walked through the willows on a little bridge system that was partially flooded, but the raw beauty distracted me from my wet feet.  I walked up to the Yellowstone River and right on the spot that was the most remote spot you could stand on in the lower 48 states.  It was surreal.  I felt so alive and so far removed from everything. When you hear people say “I’d like be in the middle of nowhere”… well that was where I was.  I held on to that moment like it was my dying day.  I’ll never forget it and I know that I can recall that memory, if I’m ever feeling overwhelmed.  It was at at that very moment, I looked around – of course seeing no one – and quickly stripped off all my clothes and plunged into the cold Yellowstone River.  It was Amazing!  I swam in its cold water, plunging my head into its icy hold, pausing to enjoy the moment.  I relaxed my body and allowed the current to move me as a leaf, floating effortlessly.  I closed my eyes and thought of nothing.  Nothing but pause and a relaxation in my body and wanting the moment to last forever.

I got my clothes and gear back together as I hiked up the valley.  Stopping by the ranger station to get a permit for the one night I would be in that section of the park but no one was home.  I slept that night just inside the park boundary ‘technically’ illegally but I caused no harm and was in and out early to get to Cody, WY where my next resupply was.

After a quick resupply in Cody, my hitching skills attracted a park ranger to pick me up and take me into the park.  I was dropped off at the Bridge Bay campground where I could get my backcountry permit for the Lamar Valley that would then take me to Mammoth and then out of the park.  I camped in the campground which was hectic with all the tourists and RVs in the area.  The campground was filled with smoke, car alarms and people wrangling to get the most out of their wilderness experience.  I settled for a Hiker/Biker camping spot which was quieter and away from the major crowds.  I enjoyed a 9 pm nature talk by an experienced ranger who talked about the history of Yellowstone and the lake and the animals that inhabit the area.  I highly suggest attending these classic fireside chats because you can learn a lot and get to talk with the ranger.  He was a great guy and was excited about my trip.  He put in a good word for me in the permit office the next morning and I got all the permits I needed for the next section.

The next section was to go through the Lamar Valley, an area known for its large wolf population.  One day into the hike, which was breathtaking, I was intercepted by a ranger who told me I needed to leave the valley because the wolf pack was acting “unusually aggressive” lately.  With a heavy hand, the ranger suggested/demanded I get out of the area.  I was bummed because it was a beautiful section that I would have to miss and now had to find an alternate route once again.  He did give me a ride to the permit office again where I settled on an alternate that was nice but not as much as the first choice.  During my bureaucratic permit efforts I decided to hitch to Old Faithful and see the iconic Yellowstone attraction.  The Old Faithful area was FULL of tourists from all over the world.  The pattern I noticed after watching Old Faithful go off three times was people start to gather 30 mins before, encircling it on the wooded benches that surround it.  At show time, everyone gets out their cameras, phones and iPads and video tapes it with ooohhs and awwws. Then everyone rushes to the ice cream shop as soon as its over.  This repeated every time and was typically followed by people coming 3 minutes after the show to ask when the next show was.  I was overwhelmed by all the people so I got back on the trail and hiked to Mammoth.

Once at Mammoth I learned of a new fire that was raging across my route to the northwest.  Again I would have to change my route!  This was my third detour in under a week.  Having nowhere to go I went to a hotel and asked about about a room. They said $130 for a night.  I said thank you but no thank you and proceeded to sleep in the field across the street facing the hotel for free.  This is true hiker trash style.  The next day I met several other hikers who were stuck in the same predicament so we made a plan to go to Gardnier, MT 15 miles away.  An hour after leaving Mammoth I had left Wyoming and was now in Montana, my final state.  I was thrilled to finally be in Montana and be closer to the finish!  I hoped Montana would be nicer to me with less fires and more predictability but, you must believe in the trail because the trail will provide.