Day 125: Dinosaurs in Bynum and Beyond

Mileage: 27.9 miles (2375.8-2403.7)

Micah, our host, woke up at 6am and cooked us biscuits and eggs and sausage and hashbrowns for breakfast. After breakfast and thanking our hosts, we got coffee at a gas station and headed out of town by mid-morning.

Our group likes breaks and we took a few on the way to the dinosaur museum. I powered through to Bynum our in front of the group, anxious to see the dinosaurs. It was a cool museum, full of bones, though the presentation of information did remind me of an eighth grade science fair. I learned T-Rex used to roam Montana and many discoveries had been made in this area. We all ate lunch out back and drank the potable water there. 

We walked and walked the highwa and could see Rockies in distance, which was depressing. I had good conversations with the guys. I talked about ultimate frisbee with Stabby and about his job and college experience and we all had a joke hour which quickly turned off-color. Though, I did get to tell my favorite joke about two whales, which basically involves making whale noises until someone asks you to stop after five minutes.

King David (aka Tom from Israel) got his new name after he hit a post with a rock before the rest of us. We were all trying to hit the post during a break as we were pretty bored out of our minds. Then he told us instead of Big Bird on Sesame Street they have a giant talking porcupine. Weird, but we all got a good laugh out of that one.

I cooked my second and third meals of the night to the setting sun. I ate ramen and then Fajita Chicken. Good night, another long day, I'm tired!

During our rock throwing break...

Cool clouds and good sunset on the plains! 

Day 124: Hiking into Augusta

Mileage: 22 miles (2353.8-2375.8)

There's something very peaceful about walking the road before dawn. Especially, in the rolling Montana plains where Grizzlies still roam in the river bottoms. In recent years they've been extending their range and the only place for young males to go is down into habitat they long ago claimed but we've since taken as our own for cattle and settlement, but mostly cattle. 

We walked over Egg Mountain and learned that the first baby dinosaur fossils ever were discovered there. We also learned there was a dinosaur museum in Bynum, the town after next.

Me and Commando walked in behind the rest of the group and could see the town of Choteau (pronounced 'show-toe') at least eight miles in the distance. It looked closer than it was and couldn't believe it was really where we were headed. For the next few days, this was our pattern - walk twenty or thirty miles, come to a town, and then do it all over again, through the rolling plains that spread east of the divide.

The town got greener and greener as we got closer. Entering town, we found huge Cottonwoods lining the streets, providing our first shade for at least 24 hours. Me and Commando got a big burger and two nice young ladies picked up our tab unbeknownst to us. They'd been smiling at us for awhile but we didn't think they were going to pick up out check.

We ordered some pie to celebrate our good luck. We met up with the rest of the guys in front of the grocery store. They were drinking beers and eating ice cream. We joined them and got some soda and beers ourselves. Sitting outside the grocery store like a bunch of vagrants a younger thin guy walked up to us and offered us chili and a place for all of us to stay. 

It didn't take much for us to convince us to take a homecooked meal and a place to stay. It turned out they were a nice couple with a house in town, who had three blonde little kids. They'd started hosting bikers this summer and so they were used to smelly people. The chili they served was so good and I even had that unfamiliar feeling of being full. Everyone talked about hiking and we shared stories with the couple. I realized I was so tired of talking about hiking and hearing about it. I was getting anxious to be done.

Day 123: Roadwalk into Augusta

Mileage: 24.6 miles (2329.2-2353.8)

We woke up at 5:30 to the foul smell of rotten eggs. The lake, which had no inlet or outlet, was slowly venting gases and the drought had only exacerbated the odor by making it all the more concentrated as the parched air and earth sucked up the water drop by drop. An eerily red moon was setting above us and the no-see-ums swarmed at our headlamps.

We heard the other guys about 5:45 walking back around the lake towards us, but they didn't stop to say hi, only howled at us as they passed. Me and Commando each took advantage of the privy and got walking a quarter after six. After the fiery moon set, the sun, equally ablaze took its place in the sky.

Once again I heard the call of the Sandhill Crane, perhaps warning me about the day to come. He's a friend from back home and has watched over me throughout my travels. His otherworldly squawk brought me back to the Platte River and earlier years and home.

We caught up with the other guys taking a break on the road, which had become paved a few miles into our walk that day as we got closer to Augusta. We began walking with Stabby, Banjo, Sanjay, and Rafiki, though Rafiki was like a madman on the road, probably walking more than four miles an hour, so we didn't see much of him besides a fading black dot in the distance.

We arrived into Augusta by about 11am, laughing a lot along the way, joking about everything from the Serial podcast to the crazy things we'd seen on the trail. The mood was lighthearted, mostly because if it wasn't all we'd have to do is complain about how unfair and miserable it was that just two days before we got to one of the most spectacular parts on the trail, it was closed. We had to joke as we didn't have much else left.

We all got burgers at the Western Bar and a few of us got a beer as well. We all enjoyed sitting after even the half day we'd had enough of road walking. Since I was the one who'd mailed my passport to the Wilderness ranch, which we hadn't walked to, I was the one who ended up spearheading the job to recover all five of our boxes.

The problem was all of our packages were all at this ranch, thirty miles away, on a road which had been closed by fires. So, first I walked over to a group of firefighters at the bar and asked if they could giver a ride. "Not today, but most likely tomorrow," they responded. But they said I should definitely go by the Forest Service office and ask if they had anybody heading up that way. So, I walked the three blocks to the office building and explained the situation, especially emphasizing my passport was in the box.

A med guy who was headed up that way volunteered for the task, though I was a bit worried because he didn't even know where the ranch was exactly and didn't seem all that sure of himself. But, he was the only option I had so I wrote all our names down and gave him instructions.

When I walked back to the guys they were getting beers tossed at them by locals and didn't seem too worried about the boxes. I told them we had to wait until 4:30 and some of them lamented and thought about taking off without their box. In the grand scheme of things it was only a few hours so we all went to the park and rested for a few hours.

When I called Kim, the forest service lady, around 4pm to check-in she said the guy had been to the ranch but didn't find the boxes. In fact, he couldn't even find the bear boxes where they were stored. So, we were back to square one. I pleaded with Kim that we needed a solution and I couldn't leave my passport and she took my number and said she'd call me back after she talked to the guys delivering dinner to see if I could get a ride and go myself.

I couldn't believe it, but she called back five minutes later saying we had a ride. Just meet him outside the Lazy-b Cafe. I took Sanjay with me but as the guy pulled up we realized only one would fit, so I went, since it was my passport and the rest only had food and fuel in their boxes.

It was a long, but beautiful drive up and down a gravel road. We spooked a black bear cub near the road, as I'd spotted him right before we passed him. We slowed to take a look and knew momma must be nearby watching. We drove for a half hour, passing cliffs and wound our way up a canyon to the Benchmark Ranch. I admired the beauty I wouldn't get to walk as we passed through the County Sheriff checkpoint a few miles from the ranch near Wood Lake.

We passed the airstrip and he pointed out different manned fire lookouts on prominent ridges above. I peered longingly deep into the Scapegoat Wilderness, and fantasizes what lay just north, the Bob. All the stories I'd heard from southbounders, the choices I'd make so I could take my time there and all the worries I had were for not. Mother Nature had decided for me. I was not going there. 

Maybe if it was earlier in the hike I would have fought it harder and gone through anyways, just avoiding the fire. But it wasn't safe and I wasn't going to risk my life. Plus, no one was going with me. 

We got to the ranch and went to the cabin, with the green roof, and opened the black bear box. There were hiker boxes insid: unfortunately, none were ours. I grabbed a girl's, Kiddo's. We searched the rest of the ranch, looking for Darwin, the owner, and found nothing. This Forest Service guy, who I'm sure had plenty else to do, had basically taken me on a jeep tour. He didn't seem too mad, while I fumed about Darwin and that he hadn't answered his phone for two weeks, despite all the messages we left him, and emails, and contact forms filled out. Where the hell was my box?

We got back into cell reception and Jay's phone dings. Kim, the receptionist had called him. Darwin had just dropped off our boxes at the office as we were headed for the ranch. We must have missed him by a few minutes. I felt very stupid, but also like it was a journey I had to take. If I wouldn't have gone I had a distinct feeling our boxes would have never arrived. And if I did, it would turn out just like it did. We picked up the boxes in Jay's truck and drove back to the campground semi-victorious.

Despite everything, I did have everyone's boxes. They didn't think to save me a beer from the case they'd bought even though I'd just done all that and probably saved them each at least thirty bucks. I tore mine open and momentarily forgot about the passport. I got all the food out and the maps and was busy trading and giving away things I didn't want.

Then, I suddenly realized, I hadn't seen my passport. I tore through the box and then my maps and then the trash I hadn't even visited. I looked on the ground and asked everyone if they'd seen it. Then I knew, of course, the passport was never in the box. It was the only suitable ending for what had become the biggest fiasco on the trail. I can't say how many hours I worried about my damn passport burning up. Kiddo gave me a shot of Jameson to ease my worries.

I called my mom six times frantically in succession but she wasn't picking up.  I texted her to check my Helena box, as Commando suggested, but didn't hear anything. I got a beer for the road and we headed out for a river down the road towards Choteau. I figured now there was literally nothing I could do.

My mom called about an hour later. She said, "I have it." And I felt relief like I hadn't felt in a very long time. A weight had been lifted. And I knew I should learn something here. Not about packing boxes, but about fate, about knowing that sometimes you have days where everything you do is wrong, no matter what. And that the only thing you can do is accept it - that sometimes maybe you shouldn't fight against the tide and understand that when the world is telling you something, you should listen.

Day 122: Roger's Pass to Bean Lake

Mileage: 33.3 miles (2295.9-2329.2)

I started at 8am with my roadwalk up to Rogers Pass. I got a ride with a forest ranger who was very nice and even apologetic about all the fires, almost as if he'd set them himself. He gave me Gatorade and we chatted the whole car ride.

After walking the five miles, it turned out I had perfect timing meeting Commando at the pass. We walked on the trail up and down the divide over Green Mountain and Lewis and Clark Pass and eventually to Red Mountain where we left the CDT on the East Fork Falls trail to hit the road. It was pretty smoky, so the views were obscured but it was sure as hell as better than the road. We avoided as much as the roadwalk as we could this way and actually saw some cool terrain. A lot of it we walked on black and loose volcanic rock, which was difficult but interesting.

Down the pass, big walls of granite emerged from what was only miles before metamorphic rock. It was really cool down the valley but quite windy and smoky. The fires were probably getting very fueled today. We hoped not though. We still had hope to end in Glacier so that was all we had left. All it took was one lightning strike and all that could be shattered.

At this point, I don't really care how I get there, I just want to make it to Canada. So close. Eventually we made it to the very sulphur smelling Bean Lake. Neither of us had water and had just passed a beautiful stream. And the water here was just plain nasty. Luckily, I'd already cooked my food earlier so I just ate my meal and headed to bed. 

Before we got in our tents we saw headlamps flashing our way from across the lake. Then we hear, "Commando!" "Lt Dan!" and of course it was the other guys who'd walked the road. We were too lazy to go that way so just told them we'd see em tomorrow.

Day 121: Zero in Lincoln

Mileage: Zero

I slept in until almost nine and only got up because my back hurt. I watched TV and drank beer and then resupplied and bought fruit and baby carrots. Then I ate pepperoni hot pockets with Doritos - real nutritious... 

Commando arrived and we shared a room and hung out with other guys working on a beer pyramid. We heard there was a fire in the Benchmark area north of us and now the Bob Marshall Wilderness was rumored to be closed. This absolute gem on the trail we'd been slogging towards was closed. Great!

So we had to roadwalk to Augusta instead and then 120 more miles on road all the way to East Glacier. And to top it off, my passport was Benchmark Ranch where there was a fire a mile away from. My passport. 

There was nowhere to go from the ranch as all exits closed and the Bob as well, so we'd have to find a forest service escort to get in. Resigned, we drank more beer, ate Doritos, hot pockets, and fell asleep after watching a Little League World Series game with Commando.

Day 120: Mysteries in the night, down from Flesher Pass

Mileage: 26.5 miles (2269.4-2295.9)

I only slept two hours last night. From one until sunrise at five, I didn't get a wink. It started with the faint plunks of what sounded like rocks being turned over, one-by-one, a little ways off from my tent. I tried to go back to sleep, but the sound kept getting closer and closer. My only thought was Grizzly. They love to dig and the size of the rocks being turned over, seemed that it only could have been a large animal. Once it got closer I started yelling and then banging my poles together.

As I banged and yelled the sound would stop. But then they would resume, just a few minutes later, continuing to get closer and closer. Finally I yelled over to Commando asking if he heard the same thing. He had. Finally, we both got out of the tent to investigate. But we didn't see a thing. With our high-powered headlamps we scoured the area around our tent, but there was nothing in sight. No sounds of scampering away. Not a thing. Something scampered up a tree, but we figured it couldn't have been what was making the sounds, and even that we couldn't make out.

We went back into our tents, almost less settled than before. After fifteen minutes, the sound resumed, even closer this time. I clacked my tent poles and yelled, "Hey! Hey!" but this would only stop the sounds for a few minutes. I'd close my eyes, and the steady clomp and roll of rocks would keep getting closer and closer and closer. 30 ft. 15 ft. 5 ft.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. I'd almost fall asleep and then it'd start again after I'd yelled five minutes earlier. Finally, my tent shook violently and I screamed, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" The shaking stopped and I went out again to investigate. Nothing. The pattern continued until 5am until I finally fell asleep. Owls peeped, coyotes howled, and I slept until 7am.

That morning we went out to look for clues, expecting to find the rocks, some prints, and other evidence of what had disturbed our campsite. But there was nothing. No rocks. No prints. No nothing. It was eerie to say the least. A mystery we pondered all day, never to find an adequate explanation. Perhaps a deer or an elk, but nothing could explain the rolling of the rocks that we never found.

It was a hot day full of climbing up and down on the divide. We went up and then down to Stemple Pass and then followed some very circuitous new trail which sucked. There was very little water until we found a seep and made it work. It was cool and fresh directly from the ground and was wonderful at quenching our thirst. Unfortunately, it was the only water for the next 15 miles and it was a very hot day, close to 90 degrees in the sun.

At Flesher pass I was fried from so many days without a zero and headed down the road to Lincoln so I could get there a day early. Commando pushed on the final fiftteen miles, and would arrive into town the next day. I got a motel, ate salad bar and burrito and then hung out with the other guys in town drinking beer and a bad movie, commiserating over the fires and trail closures ahead. I fell asleep by ten, ready for my full zero the next day.

Day 119: Back on the Divide north of Helena

Mileage: 31.4 miles (2238-2269.4)

We woke up slowly and I made coffee and oatmeal. I slept like a rock, though a few mosquitoes buzzed in my ears overnight. 

Got going by around 8am and hiked and talked most of morning. Commando is a lot more set into his routine than I am, dividing the day into "shifts" including breaks mid-morning, for lunch, mid-afternoon, and at the end of the day to setup camp and cook dinner. I, on the other hand, take breaks whenever I feel like, eat all the time, and have no real routine, other than not having a routine. Talking about it he compared himself to a mental patient, saying he'd go crazy without the routine to fall back on. I liked just adapting to each day and being free to do whatever I felt like. That all said, I was happy to follow his routine for a few days as I really didn't care when I took my breaks, etc.

I got lost in the morning and ended up walking right past an old railway tunnel, but did miss the trestle which was marked on the map. The tunnel was pretty cool, but we didn't go inside, anxious to get back to the CDT. We got back and continued to follow the amalgam of poorly marked trail and road as it wound up and down the divide.

So, we took a break mid-morning, at lunch, and so on per Commando's routine. The wrinkle thrown-in was a couple guys in a pickup stopped and gave us each a beer and water midday under the hot sun. We were both dehydrated and the Bud Light tasted as good as I can ever remember, so crisp and refreshing.

A mile or two later we reached the spring and had to reach way far down to fill our bottles, but were just thankful there was any water at all. Then we began a section right on the divide continuously heading up and down, up and down. The divide was made up of dry, red dirt and what seemed to be old metamorphic rock. 

We finally made it to the junction with the next water source by 8:30 and after some tense moments of not finding water, we found a few puddles in a stream bed and replenished our bottles for the night. Both dehydrated, we headed back up the hill where we'd setup camp and left our packs. We joked around a bit and I gave myself a sponge bath inside the tent and both turned in by around 10:30pm.

Day 118: Nero in Helena

Mileage: 4.7 miles (2233.3-2238)

I slept 'til 7:30 and went out to breakfast for Huckleberry Pancakes with Commado. It was nice to be eating with someone else for a change. I then grabbed a care package from Laura, which had a morel mushroom-shaped candle, a postcard, and a miniature bear we'd gotten together in the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. It's our protector bear and I was glad to have it headed into bear country.

Then I went back to the room and burned the candle and did yoga inside the Motel 6, perhaps the first guest ever to do so in its history. I suspected this by the look of the other guests, most of whom were monthlies, smoking cigarettes, and were pretty heavyset.

I couldn't imagine any of them secretly burning candles and doing yoga in their rooms, but who knows. Around 11am we checked out and went to another hiker's room across the street and swapped stories. Her name was "Chosen" and she had a thinly veiled false humility, you see in a lot of hikers. She'd not so subtly drop into conversation about all the publicity she'd received and how many people were inspired by her and so on. It made me want to barf. She was nice to let us stay in her room while we waited for our ride, but like many hikers, it felt like she had something to prove, even though she was sixty-five and been hiking her whole life. Me and Commando had a ridiculously large lunch at Wendy's after not really being hungry when I walked in. I didn't really realize how much I had eaten until I saw the large pile of trash afterwards.

We then hung out with Chosen, and I helped her plan her route south on the Big Sky Cutodf, until some trail angels in town, Mark and his wife, took us back to the pass. We hiked a little under five miles on the road and then setup camp and chatted awhile before heading for bed. I cowboy camped under the stars, hearing the whistle and chugging of a nearby train as I fell asleep - the first time camping with another CDT hiker in months.

Day 117: Biggest miles on the trail

Mileage: 41.2 miles (2192.1-2233.3)

I woke up early after sleeping under the stars. I was tired, but whiled away the early morning by messing around on my phone. With my head down, I heard a loud clattering down the trail. I looked up and I saw a huge brown figure running down the trail. It was a big bear, maybe my first grizzly, but it tumbled down the trail so fast I never got a good look. He had a light brown collar around his neck, but that's the only notable marking I saw.

He left no prints on the arid ground so I'll never know if he was the biggest black bear I've ever seen, or my first Grizzly. Trying not to think about it too much I pushed on past Leadville, an old mining area, on newly built trail that skirted around the old camp.

I got down to twisted dirt roads for miles and miles. I skirted down and around mountains and wound down to the streams and valleys below. The gentle grassy divide gave way to forests of spruce and pine. I soaked my feet in the cold streams three times that day, each temporarily soothing my aches and cooling my hot spots.

I only had one thing on my mind: make it to Helena. I'd miscalculated the mileage from Whitehall to there, so instead of 90 miles I had 100+ to make it all the way there. That basically meant I'd need to do  my biggest day of the trail, over forty miles to make it. I texted Commando midday asking if he'd pick me up at the pass, as I was afraid it'd be dark and nearly impossible to hitch if I didn't get one. 

Luckily, Commado was happy to do it and just told me to shoot him a text when I got there. I pushed on and on, without really any breaks besides to soak my feet. I got closer and closer, creating over the final hill before the pass, which would lead me to the highway and Helena. My feet were killing me but I tried to ignore it. I'd told Kasey 7:30pm and I aimed to be on time. I walked out onto the highway at 7:28, waited for a few minutes and Commando have me a big hug. We joined some other hikers for Chinese Buffet, and then split a room at Motel 6. It was good to be with other hikers again.

Day 116: First Full Day back on the official CDT

Mileage: 31.5 miles (2160.6-2192.1)

I got a later start after the rain had kept me up a lot of the night. It wasn't pouring, but steady enough to create a constant pitter-pattering on my tent. It was a cloudy and quite brisk morning as I descended towards where I'd cross I-15. A couple runners huffed and puffed up the hill, all seemingly in great shape - to me, that meant a trailhead must be relatively near as they were all in spandex shorts and short sleeves, while I still had on my gloves and down coat. I wished I could run with them, without my pack, of course. I think running is one of the things I miss most about my normal life. Sure, I could jog with my pack, but that is just painful and you don't feel the same freedom of just running. Sipping in the cool air as your heart rate rises, sweating, and moving your limbs quickly. I don't do too much of that. Slow and steady, that's all you can do if you want to hike 30+ miles each day.

I talked to Laura for a bit on the way down to the interstate on the dirt road. It's getting harder and harder even though we'll be able to see each other sooner with each passing day. It's just so much patience and waiting - just like this trail. Lately, I've really felt I'm ready to be finished. I've been out almost 4 1/2 months and every part of my mind, body, and spirit is tired. Not only am I tired but I think I'm a bit starved for human contact. I'm a social person, and though I like to be alone at times, I don't like to alone all the time. And I haven't hiked with anyone since southern Colorado, which is a really long time.

I did happen to checkout the CDT Facebook page today when I had a spot of service and saw my buddy Commando is going to be up in Helena tomorrow to finish his hike north to Glacier. I'm not sure how many times he's flipped around, but all I know is the last time I saw him was in Chama, NM after me, him, and Karma had stayed in the abandoned cabin together during a blizzard.

We texted and are planning to meet in Helena and go north together. It will be nice to have company. The rest of my day was spent mostly on forest roads, up and down, sometimes on trail for a change. I'd miscalculated the mileage and think I won't make it to Helena tomorrow, but on Monday instead. Hopefully I can get Commando to wait and my body will be ready for it all. My new shoes, though they are the same model as my previous three, have been hurting my feet, maybe just a mix of breaking in and overuse. I might need a zero in Helena. We'll see. 

I'm camping under the stars tonight in a grove of pines a few miles past Champion Pass. I was treated to a great sunset and the first sprawling views of the day, albeit a little constrained by the smoke. Nonetheless, a beautiful way to end the day. Me and the cows.