Hike Journal Entries: June

6/8/05: In Which I Ponder the Start of Another Thru-Hike

The resupply boxes are filled, the gear is about ready and in a few hours I will get in the car with my wife, Ellie, and head to Glacier National Park to start my 2005 Continental Divide Trail hike. I often say that the hardest part of a long-distance hike is getting prepared for it. You mull over what to take and then when you lift your pack, you immediately have to start thinking about what to take out to lighten your load. You try to figure out what you want to eat for five months, hoping you won’t be sick of it before you reach New Mexico. You read other trail journals, consider the opinions offered (typically wildly contradictory) and try to make decisions as best you can. You change your mind about gear or the route several times, but in the end you have to settle on something, even if it turns out wrong.

The wonderful thing, though, is once you get out on the trail it all doesn’t seem to matter that much. You learn to get by with the gear you have and the food you send almost always tastes better than the alternative, which is going hungry. All you have to do is get up each morning and walk through some of the most spectacular scenery in the world. Things often don’t go the way you had them planned, but what in life really does. With the right attitude even the bad times become challenges that you learn from.

When I talk to people about my hike, the conversation usually drifts around to the risks involved. I don’t deny they exist, but I think they loom larger in many people’s minds because they have never spent days on their own out in the woods. If you have the right gear and know what you are doing, the remote areas in this country are some of the safest places you can be. Sad to say, but when I am hiking I feel much more anxiety for my personal safety as I approach civilization.

It is late and I need to get some sleep before we get in the car tomorrow to head to Idaho where we will spend the night with friends. Friday morning we head towards Glacier, stopping at the Kalispell Airport to pick up Tommy, another hiker I will be starting the hike with. We will meet Tommy’s friend Razzu in East Glacier where we all spend the night. Assuming we are able to get the required permits from the Park Service, we will head up to the border Saturday morning to start hiking.

I wanted to close this introduction to the hike with something profound, but I guess profundity will have to await inspiration on the trail. I am just thankful that I have the opportunity to start this adventure. Thanks to all who have supported and encouraged me. Come what may, the next few million steps should be interesting.

06/11/05: In Which the Hike Starts in Great Weather

Despite a forecast of ran, the hike got off to a dry and pleasant start. The park service recommends hiking in a group so I had contacted a couple of other hikers, Razzu and Tommy, through the CDT-list that allows past, present and future hikers to exchange information. Tommy flew in from Rhode Island and Ellie and I picked him up yesterday at the airport. We went on to East Glacier where we all spent the night. We ran into a couple of hikers, Beth and Jonathon, who had started the week before and were a wealth of information that they shared over dinner.

Razzu had intended to arrive yesterday but his Amtrak ride was delayed 24 hours, so we picked him up about 11, and Ellie drove the three of us to the border, where we started hiking about 2.

Due to heightened border security, we were restricted about what pictures we could take, but both the American and Canadian customs were friendly and let us take pictures near the border markers as long as they did not show buildings.

We had hoped to start from Waterton and hike west of the divide and then over, but access to trails is closely controlled by the Park Service and they would only give us a permit to hike on the east side down the Belly River.

It was a pleasant, fairly uneventful hike, though one person came almost running past us. The rangers had warned us we would be wallowing in calf-deep mud, but while it was definitely muddy, you would only sink up to your ankles if you went out of your way to hit the worst spots.

We obeyed the rules and talked loudly and shouted periodically to warn the bears of our presence, so we did not see any wildlife bigger than a chipmunk.

We camped 10 miles in at our designated campground near Elizabeth Lake. Here we met three other hikers, Brian, Lisa, and Skywalker, who are walking the same general route, having gotten their permit just after us and hearing the same story. I had traded emails earlier with Brian, and we discussed, as hikers are wont to do, what we all knew about other people hiking now.

There is a bear box here, which means we don’t have to hang food. The campsite we have to use is packed with rock, not the sort of place I would normally choose to camp at, but it will have to do.

Spent the night at: N48.89188 W113.72452, Elevation 4923 ft

06/12/05: In Which Rain and Snow Make for a Rough Day

With all the excitement yesterday of starting the hike perhaps I did not fully credit the wonderful scenery we were passing through. The views were all from the bottom of the valley, but I knew better was in store for today when we began climbing.

I was awoken before 5 by some animal I did not see crashing into the rope holding up the tarp I sleep under. No, it wasn’t a bear—that would have uprooted the whole thing, not just make the roof pop up and down like it did.

After breakfast we started out on the 2500-foot climb to Redgap Pass. We had some great views back at the lake we slept near. Partway up, we came to a junction for the Ptarmigan Tunnel, a shortcut the rangers had told us was still blocked due to snow. As their other descriptions of the trail had been wrong we decided to hike out and see. Two miles later we had to concede that the snow filling the trail blasted out of a sheer cliff was indeed impassable.

This out and back added about 5 miles to our hike and by now it was raining as we climbed to the pass. This turned to snow for the last mile up and another mile down, chilling us so much that we kept hiking just to keep warm.

Back in the rain and wind, we would huddle under trees to take short breaks. It was mostly downhill, which began to wear on my knees. The final three miles was walking along the road to Many Glacier into a strong, rainy headwind. We were grateful to meet Ellie, who had rented a cabin for the night where we were all able to take shelter.

Spent the night at: N48.79812 W113.67652 Elevation 4953

06/13/05: In Which the Challenge of Piegan Pass Is Met—Barely

It is amazing what a good night’s sleep will cure. I went to bed wondering if I would be able to hike any more after yesterday’s troubles, but woke ready to try again. Of course it helped that the sun was out at times.

After repacking our now much drier gear, we set out for what we hoped would be a much easier day. We started down a soupy path brewed up with mud, yesterday’s inch of rain, plus a few horse apples thrown in for seasoning. Views were good as we headed up the valley towards Piegan Pass. We hit snow before the climb began to get steep and hiked in and out of it all the way to the top. While that made it tricky in places, what really threw us off balance (literally) was the wind, gusting in excess of 50 mph at times.

By myself I probably would have turned around, but we all kept plodding towards the top, where remarkably the wind was not as strong. The other side of the pass also had its dangerous spots, but with lesser winds they did not seem as bad and we were back out of them in a couple miles and back into forested areas again. Unfortunately the shaded snow had not melted and we spent several miles slogging through snow banks, postholing to our thighs at times.

Just before crossing Going to the Sun Road, we left the snow, crossed the road and eased down to a nice campsite along Reynolds Creek, all of us complaining of sore knees. We had a few sprinkles after dinner and all retired early to our tarps to rest, read, or sleep.

Spent the night at: N48.66571 W113.63560 Elevation 5024 ft

06/14/05: In Which We Pass Falls and Lakes and Finally See a Large Mammal but From a Distance

We typically rise in this order: Tommy, then me, and last Razzu. It gets light by 5 and Tommy was up then patiently waiting for us. We left about 7, walking down Reynolds Creek, where we were treated to a nice waterfall near where the creek empties into St Mary Lake. Climbing up to go around the lake we spied the even higher Virginia Falls thundering down a cliff.

The balance of the morning was spent walking several miles east along the south shore of St Mary Lake. Crossing Red Eagle Creek on a suspension bridge (one of several we have gratefully used, though the swaying takes some getting used to) we heeded south towards Red Eagle Lake where we planned to camp at the far end. We hobbled in about 2:30 and cooked dinner (hikers can eat any meal at any hour). All of us had various aching joints, the most serious being Tommy’s knee wrapped in an ace bandage.

Given the hour we decided to scout the trail ahead, carrying our packs as leaving your pack unattended is a major violation of park rules. Tommy’s knee got worse and we decided to stop where we were a few miles below triple divide pass and spend the night.

A rainstorm hit just as we got there and we hustled to throw up our tarps, but it let up about the time we finished. Razzu spotted some mountain goats on a ledge of Split Mountain, which is right above us and we had quite a bit of amusement watching them navigate territory we could never reach.

We have hung our food and hope the rain does not return for our hike up to the Triple Divide.

Spent the night at: N48.60285 W113.52272 Elevation 5617 ft

06/15/05: In Which We Climb Two Passes Including the Triple Divide

We had more rain during the night, but a brisk breeze blowing in the morning dried everything out. Starting with dry gear is a big plus during a long hike because it saves time laying it out to dry during the day, assuming of course the weather provides such an opportunity.

Today was our two pass day, which the rangers were doubtful we could do. The first was the Triple Divide, the point where waters can flow in three directions: to the Pacific Ocean, to Hudson Bay, or to the Gulf of Mexico. There was quite a bit of snow on the way up and I actually had to use my ice axe to complete the ascent. Needless to say, the views from the top were spectacular.

We had walked up Hudson Bay Creek and descended via the Atlantic Creek drainage. From there we headed up Cut Bank Creek towards Pitamakin Pass. We took a long break at the beautiful Morning Star Lake and then began a long trudge through snow to this pass. Once again the views from the top were inspiring.

We descended to our designated campsite at Oldman Lake, all of us with various joints making complaints. All the campsites there were buried in snow, so we walked on further looking for some place to camp. On the way we met Mike, a hiker who started about 200 miles south and was planning to hike 700 miles north into the Canadian Rockies. We finally ended up 6 miles later in the campground with all the RVs and car campers at Two Medicine. We got a special site for backpackers, but it is a real luxurious spot with running water that does not need to be filtered, picnic benches, and flush toilets. There are also more mosquitoes than we saw in the wild and a bit more noise, but we should sleep well regardless because we are all so exhausted.

Spent the night at: N48.49291 W113.36361 Elevation 5238 ft

06/16/05: In Which I Limp into East Glacier

Tommy has typically been the early riser of our group, but I got up about 5 and took advantage of the running water in the bathroom to clean up a bit for the hike into East Glacier. It was below freezing and when I took down my tarp the condensation on my sleeping bag froze.

We took off about 7, stopping at the ranger station to confirm where the trail took off from the road we were walking along. Shortly after starting up the trail we passed the scenic Appistoki Falls. We climbed steadily upward through rocky terrain with occasional stunted trees. Along the way a rabbit and a marmot posed for pictures (this is a National Park where animals don’t fear humans much).

We topped out around 7000 feet and then descended on the much drier east side of the park. All of us had aches and pains, but I was generally the slowest, bothered by a sprained right ankle wrenched three days ago in the snow. Downhill was the hardest and it took a long time to descend.

Near the top we were passed by Al, an older thru-hiker in a hurry to get to East Glacier before noon when the post office closed. We all envied the speed with which he hiked down ahead of us.

Leaving the park and crossing onto Blackfeet Reservation land, we encountered a couple of parties on horseback, which should have alerted us of things to come, but we were too busy thinking of food and rest in town. We quickly discovered the long mud wallow that hundreds of horses had turned the trail into. For a couple of miles we did our best to avoid this mess, but it was hard on our sore legs and not very successful.

We got into town a little after 12, Tommy and Razzu stopping at a hostel while I went on to find the cabin Ellie had rented. After happily greeting one another outside, I removed the filthy lower half of my clothes before going in for a much-needed shower.

My ankle was swollen a bit and Ellie iced and massaged it while I mostly rested for the afternoon. Tommy and Razzu took us out to dinner at the Mexican restaurant and we all consumed a healthy amount of food like hikers do in town.

Spent the night at: N48.44983 W113.22587 Elevation 4857 ft

06/17/05: In Which I Take a Zero Day in East Glacier

When you spend a full day in town, hikers refer to it as a zero day, in reference to the amount of trail mileage accomplished. As swollen and sore as my ankle was, it was clearly necessary. I spent some time reviewing routes with Tommy and Razzu, did laundry with Ellie, and got my gear sorted and ready for the next section.

In looking back at this past week, it was no doubt the toughest hiking I have ever done, despite having climbed higher passes and done much greater distances on the PCT. Even with some conditioning, I was not fully prepared for the altitude and the severity of the weather. Yes, it was a low snow year, but that does not mean there was no snow as we soon found out. This permitted an early start but did not mean it was summer hiking.

The backcountry permit that we were issued stated "itinerary not recommended" and carried the following advisories: hypothermia, giardia, bears, mountain lions, snow hazard, stream crossing hazard, severe weather, and avalanches. They also noted that our distance hiked and elevation gain/loss was not advisable. Certainly there were risks, but the only thing I would have done differently was to arrive in better shape to hike the mileages. On the trail we stayed within the limits of our gear and our skills.

Unless I have a setback overnight with my ankle, I intend to start mid-morning for the next section. In 15 miles I cross Hiway 2, which will allow an easy hitch back to East Glacier if my ankle won’t support me adequately.

Spent the night at: N48.44983 W113.22587 Elevation 4857 ft

06/18/05: In Which I Return to the Trail and Exit the Park

Ellie and I got up early and she left around 7. I finished getting my pack ready and iced my sore ankle one last time and wrapped it in an ace bandage. I went to the hostel where Tommy and Razzu were staying and we started out together about 9.

I forgot to mention that we were quite fortunate to be off the trail the last day and a half as it rained quite a bit. The paper claimed that they had the most June rain in 80 years in just half the month. Supposedly we should only see scattered thunderstorms for the next few days.

The hiking was pretty uneventful as we climbed along the south edge of the park to Marias Pass. We did see a couple of elk, our largest mammals to date. As we crossed the highway at Marias Pass we left the Park. I spotted a pay phone and called Ellie at our friends' house in Idaho to tell her that my ankle was holding up okay and I would continue on the hike.

We cooked a 4 PM dinner at the campground near the pass and then began our hike towards the Bob Marshall Wilderness Area, most commonly called the Bob. We were on an old jeep road and often had to negotiate huge ruts full of muddy water. A couple miles in we waded Two Medicine River without taking off our shoes as they had been wet and muddy all day from the previous rain. We waded it twice more, but it was getting late and the fun of climbing through icy water was wearing off, so we took a high trail to avoid the fords. It too had its wet spots, but we eventually found a reasonable spot to camp, though we have unwelcome company for the first time—mosquitoes. I guess I will use my bug bivy (mosquito netting) for the first time.

Spent the night at: N48.29909 W113.25576 Elevation 5498 ft

06/19/05: In Which We Reach the Bob

We were off and hiking a little after 7, climbing above the Two Medicine to avoid fords. Eventually we crossed a ridge into the Badger drainage, where I may have actually seen a badger. The animal was long and grey with short legs. We also saw a baby elk in the morning.

Most of the morning the trail was a closed jeep road with enormous ruts and potholes full of the recent rains. And while we saw a few clouds, the day was generally sunny and warm. Late afternoon we climbed to the divide at Muskrat Pass where we entered the Bob Marshall Wilderness. After eating dinner there we continued on towards Badger Pass, but lost the trail in the meadows around Beaver Lake. We headed to where we expected the trail to head to the pass and picked it up there. We are learning to find the trail when we get off track, a skill that will serve us well in the future.

We camped near the pass in an area also being used by the trail crew. I chatted with a couple of the men and they gave me some good pointers on the trail ahead. Since it is clear, I am sleeping out without the tarp for the first time.

And Happy Father's Day, Dad. I'll try to call again when I get back to a phone.

Spent the night at: N48.13219 W113.03828 Elevation 6345 ft

06/20/05: In Which They Take the High Trail and I Take the Low One

It was a bit chilly when we got up this morning so we didn’t get going until about 7:30. We did not hang our food for the first time (no good trees) but had no visitors in the night wanting to claim it.

The morning was spent in a long descent from the pass along Strawberry Creek with a couple fords thrown in to keep us awake. Trail conditions vary but tend to be wet in lots of places, which means plenty of slogging through mud.

About noon we came to a junction where Tommy and Razzu chose to head off to a potential waist deep ford of the Middle Fork Flathead River and then a long climb up to the aptly named Switchback Pass. I chose to follow a lower and more circuitous route that will bring me to the Divide in the morning.

Early afternoon I climbed the Bowl Creek drainage to the low Sun River Pass. Along the way I made notes of trail conditions as requested by Jim Wolf of the CDTS. It was the warmest day yet on the trail and I rested in the shade for a change, joined by those ubiquitous signs of summer--mosquitoes.

I had dinner at Fools Creek and hiked up Open Creek until about 7:30 when I pulled off under some trees for the night. Excitement from the animal kingdom for the day was a snake and a toad, unless you want to count the clouds of mosquitoes surrounding me as I type this.

And a Happy Solstice to everyone. Not having a calendar I am not sure of the exact day, but today is close enough. The days will start getting shorter but the excitement of the hike has just begun.

Spent the night at: N47.91362 W113.03895 Elevation 6087 ft

06/21/05: In Which We Reconnect and Enjoy the North Wall

No mosquitoes in the morning and I started up towards the junction by the pass about 7. I arrived about 8 to find Tommy and Razzu camped on the trail and just getting going. They had gotten here just before 10 the previous night (it stays light that late this far north) after a tough day of hiking up and down through the snow. The ford turned out to be in fairly gentle water and only thigh deep. I climbed up a bit the way they had come down to get some pictures of Kevan Mountain.

We began hiking below what is referred to as the North Wall, an almost sheer escarpment that towers about 1000 feet over your head. It consists of layered rock (former seabed millions of years ago I believe) and makes for great pictures, which slowed us down considerably. About halfway along the wall (clarification—we are down below looking up) in an area that had suffered a forest fire we spotted a few elk. As they noticed us they began to move away and the few became many and soon there was a racing herd of 50 to 60 elk headed over the ridge.

Whether we were tired from yesterday or just slower in all the beauty, by mid afternoon we had done about 10 miles (we try to do at least 20), so we began hurrying down Red Shale Creek as a couple of thunderstorms rumbled by giving us a few sprinkles. We stopped late to cook and huddled under the trees during another shower. Mosquitoes were bad here and where we pulled off to sleep near Rock Creek.

Spent the night at: N47.75219 W113.00761 Elevation 5564 ft

06/22/05: In Which We Find That the Chinese Wall Lives Up to Its Reputation

I didn’t sleep well at all last night, as it was too hot in my sleeping bag. The mosquitoes were pretty bad and the bug bivy only covers the upper part of my body, so my legs need to be in the bag to not be eaten, which can be awfully hot on a warm night with a 15 degree down bag. I am thinking of switching back to my lighter synthetic bag in Butte if I can reach Ellie to ask her to bring it. The down bag will be great to return to when I get to Colorado.

The morning's hike started with a 7-mile trek up to Spotted Bear Pass. From there we went over the ridge and through the snow to My Lake, a pretty lake at the base of the Divide. Another slog through the snow led us to the start of the Chinese Wall.

Similar to the North Wall yesterday, this Wall is both higher and longer. We arrived before 11, so we got some great pictures with the sun over our shoulders. Both Razzu and I have digital cameras that we used quite a bit, so Tommy had to wait patiently at times, though he certainly couldn’t ask for better scenery while he waited.

The trail runs along the wall for several miles going up and down, so we got to try to move through more slushy snow. Finally we got headed back downhill with some invigorating fords of streams swollen by the snow melt, the highest being a strong current that came up to my crotch.

On the way down a deer bolted up the hill but the fawn stayed behind lying in the grass by the trail, allowing me to approach and take a picture. Deer seem much more adorable here in the wild than they do at home eating our garden.

On the way down we had mosquitoes pestering us, but we found this beautiful spot overlooking a fork of the Sun River without any. As I sit here typing this on a rock about 25 feet above the rushing white water, it is hard to imagine things being much better. (Well, I could ask for dry feet and further improvement in my sprained ankle, but let's not go there.)

Spent the night at: N47.58324 W113.06556 Elevation 5452 ft

06/23/05: In Which We Leave the Bob Marshall Wilderness and Resupply at Benchmark

We started off downriver about 7 headed for Benchmark. Trails were drier and there were even a couple of bridges, a sure sign that you are nearing civilization. I stopped at a creek before we reached Benchmark to clean up a bit and put on some cleaner clothes. Despite my best efforts there was not much chance I would pass for just another person.

Benchmark is largely a Forest Service enclave with a couple of campgrounds, administrative offices and an airfield built by the government so the average taxpayer can fly their private plane in for a look at the Bob. There is also a private ranch that for a $25 fee will hold hiker boxes.

While I cleaned up Tommy and Razzu had gone on to get their resupply boxes. In my haste to catch up (ok, I was also fantasizing about a shower) I followed the map to the next trailhead and then misread the guidebook and went down the wrong road. All those chances to get lost in the woods and my first time has to be on a bunch of roads.

Anyway no one was around at the ranch (no shower, boo hoo), but our boxes were all out in a bear box so we got the food and maps, sorted things for a while and headed off after leaving a thank you note for the proprietors.

We had left Bob Marshall Wilderness entering Benchmark and as we departed and headed up Straight Creek, we entered the Scapegoat Wilderness. If there has been a disappointment so far it has been zero bear sightings, not even a black bear. We had been seeing numerous bear prints in the trail, but this afternoon entering the Scapegoat we saw none. As we head further south our chances of seeing a grizzly dwindle.

We are camped tonight along Straight Creek, so once again we will sleep serenaded by the sounds of water rushing off to somewhere else, though being east of the Divide, I guess I should say the Atlantic Ocean.

Spent the night at: N47.39633 W112.84437 Elevation 5870 ft

06/24/05: In Which We Freeze Our Butts in the Morning and Our Brains in the Afternoon

It was cold when we got up and we left camp wearing extra clothes and gloves. As the sun rose it got even colder and ice formed in my water bottle. I have seen this phenomenon before when starting in a valley with steep walls: as the sun heats the walls high above it apparently drives the cold air down making it even colder below as you look at the sunshine and wish you were in it.

Eventually it warmed and we were making reasonably good time, considering all of us have various aches and pains in our legs. Razzu is in the worst shape and may have to go off-trail to have his looked at. Looking at the map we are headed to a waterless several miles along the Divide tomorrow, so we decided to do a little under 20 miles so as to wind up near water and rest a bit.

Ah, the best laid plans of mice and thruhikers. To save even more time, we decided to take this old trail we think we see on the map and got lost, so lost I pull out the GPS for the first time besides the nightly reading I do for this journal. It shows us off the map, so we ignore it and thrash on until we find a trail we eventually concede is the wrong one and retreat to near where we took off. Two lessons learned: 1. know exactly where you are on the map and if you don’t know, don’t assume; and 2. if you are going to use the GPS, at least consider the possibility it might be right.

While having dinner there, Shug, another thruhiker, showed up to tell us where we are. He shared his story about trying to hike Waterton route and getting turned back by snow and avalanches. He tried to go cross-country off his map and spent two days being stymied by cliffs, finally retreating back to where he started.

After dinner we carefully followed the official route, camping near Dearborn River, across which we had performed multiple fords due to being lost. We have had a few sprinkles the past week, but nothing really to complain of. Tonight tarps have been raised, as there appears a chance it will rain.

Spent the night at: N47.25533 W112.61316 Elevation 5311 ft

06/25/05: In Which We Stick to the Divide and Sleep Where Meriwether Lewis Crossed the Divide

We got a little rain overnight, which was a sign of things to come. There were no sure water sources for more than 10 miles, so we stocked up before starting out for what would be a day devoted mostly to hiking right on the Divide. First we spent an hour and a half climbing up there.

The official trail makes a roundabout route away from the Divide but we took the advice of our map and guidebook and headed up the steeper but more scenic route right along the Divide. No contours here, just a lot of up and down, the wind a constant companion and horizontal rain showers thrown in periodically.

I got a few pictures between showers, but most of my energy went to just staying on the ridge and keeping moving forward. There was an hour of almost steady rain before noon that once again had me doubting the propriety of this enterprise.

Eventually we dropped into the Valley of the Moon where we found water and were able to dry out a bit as we took an extended break. I took a few notes about water sources and the trail in this area for CDTS as we began the climb back to the Divide through snow in places.

We continued the roller coaster up and down the Divide throughout the afternoon. Late in the afternoon we could see more rain headed our way, so decided to take the lower interim route to Alice Creek. We started down the designated road access, but at the first turn there was a CDT emblem on trail tread so we took that and next thing you know we are back on the Divide on new trail not marked on our map.

We also had to thrash through a bit more snow during the afternoon, but eventually we made it to Lewis & Clark Pass, where only Lewis actually crossed 199 years ago on July 7.

We had to hike down to a spring about half mile below and got water and cooked there. We then climbed back to the pass where we tried to find shelter in the stunted trees from the brisk wind that was blowing.

Maybe it was the weather, but we saw no large animals today (usually we see deer or elk). There were also few tracks, so I suspect the inhospitability of these high regions (we reached 8400 feet) makes larger animals less likely to visit.

Spent the night at: N47.14202 W112.42903 Elevation 6431 ft

06/26/05: In Which the Fog Closes In and We Go Our Separate Ways

I got up about 5:30 to high clouds, but before we left a little before 7, a strong east wind over the pass brought thick clouds or fog, depending on your perspective. As the day's hike was almost entirely along the Divide the pressure differential driving the clouds kept us in mist or rain all day.

Route-finding for the morning was terrible, as much of our navigational instructions were based on visible landmarks or cairns as there was little or no trail tread throughout this section. Visibility varied but was often less than 100 feet, so with compasses in hand at times we would fan out looking for the next obvious sign of our path. We only got seriously lost once when perhaps wishful thinking led us to follow a jeep track downhill instead of up.

As a result, seven miles that we expected to have done by 10 ended up taking nearly until 1 PM when we finally arrived at Rogers Pass. Due to Razzu's leg, which appeared to need medical attention or at least some rest, Razzu and Tommy opted to hitch into Lincoln, where they would try to also contact the friend they were planning to meet in Helena in a couple of days. It was sad to see them go, as they had been great trail partners, but they needed to get off the trail and I still am trying to reach Butte to meet Ellie and LiAnna by July 2.

After filling up on water and eating I started on the 14-mile Divide trek from Rogers Pass to Flesher Pass. Weather was just as bad, but the trail was a little better marked so I made better time. Clouds lifted a bit after 4 and I stopped to cook dinner after 5. When I was just finishing, it started to rain in earnest, so I threw everything in the pack donned my poncho and took off.

I know it sounds counterproductive, but the best thing to do when it rains is to hike because exercise is the best way to stay warm. The only option if you want to stay still is to put up your tarp and get in your sleeping bag, but that does not get you anywhere, so I usually hike.

A little after 7 the rain let up and I got to Flesher Pass. I went on a half mile until I came to a new trailhead site with tables and a clean composting privy. I was about ready to stop any way so decided to camp nearby and take advantage of the unused facilities.

Spent the night at: N46.97105 W112.35958 Elevation 6190 ft

06/27/05: In Which I Put in a Long Day in the Rain

I dined on the picnic bench in the morning and was ready to go by 7 with dreams of hiking 28 miles to Dana Spring so I could easily make my resupply in Marysville the next day. The morning route was fairly easy and I arrived at Stemple Pass, which had similar facilities as the previous night, about 11:30.

I decided to spread my gear to dry on the picnic table and have something to eat. While I did, a USFS work crew showed up in a pickup and the four guys joined me for lunch, even though I warned them it had been a while since I had taken a shower. We discussed the trail and what it was like up ahead. The most depressing news they had was that the weather was supposed to remain cool and showery all week.

Having 17 miles still to go I said goodbye and set off. I got in some pretty good mileage, but by 3 it was raining. Figuring it would let up soon, I started on the long climb over Black Mountain. Well, it didn't, and soon the rocky trail had become a mini-creek, but my feet were already soaked from the rain, so it hardly made things worse. Things did get worse as I started having to navigate huge snow banks as I approached the 8200-foot crest.

As I reached the top about 7:30, the rain did let up and I was even able to take a picture before hurriedly beginning the steep rocky descent to Dana Spring. I got there at 8:30 and at first could not see the spring because the wind was howling over the Divide, dragging clouds at ground level. Eventually I found it, but ascertained it was a cow hole, hardly the campsite recommended in the guidebook, so headed a quarter mile away to some trees that provided some shelter from the wind. Though exhausted, I made dinner, grateful for the extra hours of light here in the north and was under the tarp ready to sleep before 10.

Spent the night at: N46.71928 W112.46893 Elevation 6997 ft

06/28/05: In Which I Resupply in Marysville and Suffer Weather Doubts

It rained during the night and I was dreading what I might find come morning, but it started clearing and there was even sun as I stopped by Dana Spring to load up on water before taking off. Clouds started moving in after 8 so I stopped and tried to dry out the tarp and my sleeping bag. Not bone dry, but at least ready for another night of rain.

My resupply box needed to be picked up before 2, which wasn’t too hard since I had seven trail miles to do before hiking three miles downhill to Marysville. I started down a little after 11 and heard a car coming so stuck out my thumb and got a ride into town. The person who dropped me off didn’t know where the post office was, but the town was so tiny I was sure I could find it quickly. After a quick circuit of town without success, I knocked on a few doors before I finally got a man to point where it was hidden on a side street. Hearing what I was up to and my complaints about the weather, he proudly told me it had rained for 23 days so far this month (soon to be 24).

At the post office the postmaster Marilyn Milton was very helpful, offering me tea and a sandwich. I ended up taking a couple of black plastic garbage bags for weather protection, though she said the weather was supposed to improve tomorrow. After mailing a note to LiAnna and some notes and maps home, I went to find the pay phone that was supposed to be at the bar, but if there was one it was locked inside (hours 5 PM ’til closing Wed thru Sun).

Since I was hiking on the Divide in this section with no close water sources, I lugged three quarts uphill along with 12 pounds of food in my box. No luck hitching when I really could have used it since no cars came. Halfway up it started to rain, very cold and windy, continuing for about an hour as I rejoined the trail and headed south. The rain started a couple hours earlier than yesterday and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through more than what I had yesterday and started considering hitching to Helena tomorrow to wait for drier weather.

After that it was mostly cloudy but did not rain the whole afternoon and I eventually got off the roads I had been walking most of the day and on to some nice trails. About 6 I decided I had done enough (17 trail miles plus three miles uphill from town), so picked a nice forested spot to spend the night. Took my time fixing dinner and just as it was ready it started to rain. I rushed over and threw up the tarp and got everything under it but it was just a brief shower and hopefully the last for a while. I had my meal, cleaned up a bit, dealt with a blister on my foot and got ready for bed. It will be just like home as I am near the train tracks and I can hear them in the distance.

Spent the night at: N46.63834 W112.30508 Elevation 5798 ft

06/29/05: In Which a Gray Day Finally Turns Sort of Blue

I slept late and kept looking out for the improved weather (i.e., blue sky) that had been forecast, but finally accepted reality and got up to lowering gray skies. By the time I got going it was clear (bad choice of words) that this was going to be another one of those days with clouds/fog blowing hard over the Divide.

It varied between a drizzle and a light rain and with the strong wind the poncho was not real helpful in keeping me dry. As I approached the treeless high point the advice in the guidebook suggested aiming towards the radio tower, a wonderful joke as I could barely see 50 feet in front of me. I finally stumbled upon the road running at the base of the radio tower and started downhill. After half a mile I got in the trees where the wind let up a bit and huddled under a few of them to keep the worst of the rain off.

I got out some food and water, all the while eyed up by a deer about 50 yards away across a meadow. I must have been a pretty bedraggled sight and to increase the amusement I inhaled some cayenne off my parched corn and started choking.

Eventually we both took off again and I completed the descent to Highway 12. Unfortunately the trail comes out 3/4 of a mile east of McDonald Pass and I had to hike the 4-lane road to get up there.

As I started up the road I noticed two bicyclists about 200 yards ahead of me loaded down and cycling into the stiff headwind and light rain. In an amusing mockery of a race I actually began gaining on them as cars and semis raced past at 60 mph, dumping road grime on us. I closed to within 25 yards but they began to pull away as the pass leveled out. They stopped to read the sign at the top, however, so we had a chance to exchange abbreviated stories in less than optimal conditions. The guy kept insisting the weather was improving soon, but having heard that story before I was a bit skeptical.

I limped across 4 lanes of traffic as fast as I could and before the temptation to hitchhike away to some place warm and dry overcame me. My left knee was bothering me quite a bit and I suspect it was because I was letting myself get dehydrated. When it is raining you don’t stop as much to drink and don’t feel as thirsty. I don’t know what lubricant the knee uses but guess it requires a fair amount of water to function optimally.

Eventually the rain let up and some sun did come out. A lot of the afternoon was spent hiking jeep trails, but I did take notes on a new trail section along the Divide for CDTS. Later in the afternoon I got walk along one of the pleasantest sections of trail that I had seen in a while, which a sign indicated was maintained by NRC Helena.

I stopped for dinner along Telegraph Creek, then ended up on a long road hike through private property with no camping opportunities. It is strange to be out hiking on a national scenic trail and see these modern, sometimes huge, houses sticking out of the trees. I finally got back to public land and found a place to spend the night.

Spent the night at: N46.42375 W112.35133 Elevation 6680 ft

06/30/05: In Which I Ascend Thunderbolt Mountain By Accident and Don't Have To Dodge Any Lightning

I slept in this morning and felt very unmotivated to get up as I could see blue sky and figured I had an easy day (as if hiking up and down for 20 miles can be easy). By the time I got moving down the trail it was 8:30.

I went slow but still managed to miss a turn and had to backtrack a quarter mile. Most of the morning I hiked along old jeep trails or roads that meandered through clearcuts, so it was hardly inspiring.

I finally hit a new trail around noon that followed the Divide. I spotted four elk in a meadow and being downwind got fairly close before they bolted. Both the guidebook and the map suggested there might be a trail cutting back to where I needed to be, but instead I wound up on a trail that went right over Thunderbolt Mountain. There were a few cumulus floating around, but nothing threatening, so I enjoyed the views from this 8577-foot peak, my highest elevation yet, essentially by accident. I descended past Cottonwood Lake and then climbed and had dinner by a stream.

In the Be Careful What You Wish For Department, other than at the top of the mountain every stop this afternoon has been accompanied by the whine of mosquitoes out in force with the better weather. I have a cloud of about a hundred either on or around me as I type this even though there is a slight breeze and I am camped at about 8200 feet. On the trail you learn to take the good with the bad. As the Sufis say, this too shall pass.

Spent the night at: N46.32736 W112.50735 Elevation 8239 feet

© 2006 Mark C. Davis • Page Last Updated January 8, 2006