Day 128: East Glacier to Two Medicine and Back

Mileage: 12 miles (2457.7-2469.7)

I slept in until 8am, with only the rustling of other hiker's packs and bag rousing me. I didn't want to move, but today was our best looking day for the next four, so we had to walk. Stabby, Rafiki, and I walked over to the Two Medicine diner for breakfast, each putting away a healthy plate of food and coffee full of cream. I had a stack of pancakes slathered in syrup and butter which was more than enough to fill me up.

Right before we left, Commando walked up and told us he wasn't going. The forecast for the next few days was bleak and he wanted to see Glacier when it was nicer, so he wouldn't go. I thought to myself it really wasn't a bad idea, and I wasn't in a rush, but at the same time I was all packed up and at least wanted to make the 12 miles to Two Medicine to see how it was.

I said goodbye to Commando and then headed off with the rest of the guys. We played more Contact as we hiked, teaching Malarky the rules as we went. It rained slightly, but really wasn't too bad. As we got higher and higher, we all appreciated being on trail for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Even in the clouds, the sheer topography of Glacier began to reveal itself. Rugged peaks whose tops were cutoff by the low ceiling, but sheer faces still visible below. Snow capped some of the high summits, foreboding of what lay ahead. I started feeling sharp pains in my left leg with every step and realized I had shin splints, probably from all the road walking in the last week. Downhill was especially painful, but I pushed on. I kept Banjo company, with his hurt ankle, and had a good time chatting with him about our hikes and the future beyond.

We admired the scenery together, especially the ancient Bristlecone Pines high on the northern slope. Their gnarled trunks and branches a testament to the weather they'd endured year after year, for hundreds of years. We looked down into the deep glacial-carved valley below, where Two Medicine Lake lay. I had resolved I'd stop at Two Medicine Lake and go back to East Glacier to wait out the weather. The more I thought about it, there was no reason to push on with my shin splints and with the weather forecast to be so cloudy and rainy the next few days.

I'd walked 2,500 miles to this park, I figured I shouldn't rush just so I could finish a few days early. Getting to the Two Medicine Ranger Station I informed the gang of my decision. I was sad to leave them, but it was the right thing for me. I got a hitch with a guy from the general store and met Commando back in East Glacier that night. We planned to hitch over to Kalispell and stay with my friend's parents for a few days to wait out the bad weather. We drank beer and reveled in being warm and dry, while our friends were surely miserable, wet, and cold.

Day 127: Finally to East Glacier

Mileage: 26 miles (2431.7-2457.7)

After camping under the bridge we walked the twelve miles into Browning, our first town on the reservation. It was known as dodgy and sketchy at night, where dogs roamed the streets during the day and anything could happen at night. I figured it really wasn't that bad and when we got there, I realized it was more sad than anything else.

It was more sad than anything - with all the businesses either boarded up or with metal bars guarding their windows and doors. At 10am lines were forming outside the liquor stores, with Blackfeet men looking withered beyond their years.

We stopped at the one diner in town and almost instantly realized we'd made a mistake. We were one of two parties in the diner and the only one, after the other group left, grumbling, "too slow!"

The place was clean enough, it was just that the waitress took about 15 minutes to take our order and then came back to retake it after 15 more minutes when the other guys arrived. I asked for water and she brought one for everybody except me. Then she forgot our coffees, didn't bring order at all when she brought the others, and then when I asked about it, told me another waitress was going to get mushrooms for my omelet at the store. I told her as politely as I could that I didn't care what kind of omelet they gave me, but please, just bring me some food.

Eventually, after about an hour, the food came, we inhaled it and then me and King David went to Taco John's to get a burrito for the road.

I was tired of waiting for everyone and everything so I pushed on. The headwinds were gusting at more than 50 mph, the strongest we'd faced in days. Commando almost died when an RV blew a tire and it almost hit him as he walked at 75 mph. We all dodged off the road, afraid for our lives, but luckly everyone was okay.  

Sanjay, King David, and I formed a line and broke the wind for each other, while the others pushed on ahead. Rain began to spit in our faces as we got closer to town. When we got to East Glacier, we were greeted by Banjo, who'd injured his ankle on the walk in and had to hitch. There were also a couple other hikers at the hostel, Toast and Lot who'd finished and Malarky, who'd been waiting for us.

We all had a big dinner at Serrano's Mexican restaurant, did laundry, and drank beers at the hostel. I fell asleep early with the lights on and the other guys still partying. We'd be leaving tomorrow and I needed rest.

Day 126: To Blackfoot Nation

Mileage: 28 miles (2403.7-2431.7)

We woke up to a wonderful sunrise and Sanjay loudly packing his bag. We were a funny crew breaking camp in the morning. Stabby, a quick-witted guy in his mid-30's with facial hair that put the rest of us to shame grunted as he got ready for the day. His beard basically connected up to his hairline and down to his neck and chest, making the rest of us seem like adolescents trying to grow our first 'stashe. 

Meanwhile, Sanjay, from Southern California, but whose family is of Indian descent was fidgeting with his things trying to get an early start. He's also in his mid-thirties, shorter, and has a big bushy beard that connects with his shaved head.

It was just a few miles to Dupuyer, but when we got there we found the whole town was closed on Tuesdays. We walked around town looking for water and finally found a spigot at the bed & breakfast. Sitting in front of the closed general store, two ladies walked up and got our story. It turned out they were our key to town. They got us all water and then called the guy who owned the General Store and got him to open it for us. I bought two Totino's pizzas for $3 each and we had beers at 9am. I guess we had nothing better to do walking the road. By 10am we finally left, full on beer, pizza, and chips and ready for another day walking the road.

We walked on and on along the desolate highway, entering Blackfoot Nation around noon. The Blackfeet were essentially Plains Indians, but many of their sacred places were in the high mountains of what is now Glacier National Park. Of course, the Blackfeet people were given the barren plains, with little access to water, while the American government set aside the mountains, with their water and mineral-rich areas for settlers.

To pass the time I taught the guys how to play a game called 'Contact' which I'd learned in college leading backcountry trips for the Dartmouth Outing Club. It's a word game that's pretty entertaining and great for passing the time on long hauls. It's funny, it's the first time I've played games on the whole hike, but it really was a lot of fun. Taking a break along the road for some snacks we saw some long-distance bikers ride by and wondered where they were headed. Then, all of a sudden, we saw a figure heading over the hill southbound. Who could it be? As the dark, bearded figure got closer, I realized it was U-turn, the guy I'd hiked into Grand Lake with, near Rocky Mountain National Park.

I whooped and hollered and gave him a big hug. I couldn't believe our paths had crossed again - though I'd hoped they would, as I genuniely enjoyed U-Turn's company. We caught up a bit and he told us he'd flipped up to Glacier and would finish his hike in Yellowstone by October. We wished him well, hoped the weather would hold for him, and pushed on our separate ways.

As we walked in the hot, baking sun, some younger guys pulled over and asked if we wanted some beers, which we gladly took them up on. We talked with them for a bit before pressing on. Shortly thereafter, we saw some crystal clear water in a beaver pond and couldn't resist taking a dip. The water was refreshing, but the mud on the stream bottom was deep and stirred up easily as we walked. Our feet sunk-in to the squishy mud and we all got out quickly after we dunked.

We cranked out the rest of the afternoon, having lost Commando a few hours early. I pushed on ahead of the group, trying to reach the Two Medicine River where we'd agreed to camp. My feet ached, but I just wanted to be done walking. Rafiki was chasing me, but I was moving to fast for anyone to keep up. I wanted to walk alone. Sometimes I need that.

We setup camp under the bridge and Rafiki caught a few trout. I asked if he was going to keep them and realized he had no way to cook them. So, I grabbed one of his catch, cleaned it, and boiled it in my pot. We shared the trout and slept with a full belly, ready to reach East Glacier the next day.

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.