2004 July

Near Evergreen, MT

On the way to the trailhead another camper stops us to ask if I’m hiking the CDT. Jim has hiked the PCT, and is itching to do this trail too. He says he delivers books to Old Faithful on Tuesdays – he says something about pizza and beer if I catch him there.

I follow ATV trails to Two Medicine Creek, then up it. Shortly after crossing I spot a black splotch in the trees 100 yards uphill from me, and wonder if it could be a bear. Just then it moves. I yell and bang my poles together. It runs a ways further uphill, then stops and turns around again. I blow my whistle, and this time it goes until I can’t see it. I sing for a while, just to be sure.

I follow the creek through the woods for many miles. A couple of motorcycles pass.

Out of nowhere I feel a stab of pain in my hand, and instinctively smash a horsefly. That’s the first one of those so far. Luckily they’re big, noisy, and pretty slow, so if I’m alert I can get them before they get me.

Over a pass and through a gate I encounter another first for Montana, cattle. I wonder if bears ever get them, or if the fences keep them out.

A motorcyclist stops to talk to me. He warns me about all the grizzlies around. He says they left people alone until they started catching them and studying them, then they lost their fear of humans. I recall Lewis & Clark writing about being attacked by grizzly bears two hundred years ago, but I keep my mouth shut.

At last I turn off the ATV trail and see no more people. The sun shines on the low, white granite Bruin and Elbow peaks above me. I cross the divide in grassy meadows, and find a place to camp near Beaver Lake. I know from my map and compass that I’m near the lake, but I can’t see it anywhere. I figure it must be behind some trees.

It feels much wilder camping here. I find a good spot in thick, spider-filled woods to hang my food. My tent is pitched by a meadow. It’s a little buggy, so I climb inside before it’s dark.

Near Glacier National Park, MT

Having Ann to support me in the car has made hiking easier and more fun in many ways. Today we discuss a possibility I haven’t capitalized on yet – hiking with just a day pack while Ann hauls my overnight gear in the car. The idea had occurred to me, but I’ve resisted it so far. It doesn’t, however, violate my guiding principle, to walk a continuous path from border to border near the divide, and enjoy it as much as possible. Ann approves of the idea, as long as I take the first aid kit. I decide I’ll try it today.

After a good restaurant breakfast and a quart of ice cream I’m ready. We go over our plan, and Ann drives off. It feels weird being left without all my stuff. I keep wondering if I’ll need this or that.

Once I’m going it’s great. The freedom of movement can’t be beat. I don’t get much scenery today, so I concentrate on moving. It feels good.

I see my first clear bear tracks in some mud on the trail. They’re not huge, but still inspire renewed efforts at making noise. I even sing a little – that should keep ‘em away if anything will.

I reach Marias Pass at 4:30 pm, having made 15 miles in 5 hours with a lunch stop. Soon Ann shows up, and we start planning for the huge Bob Marshall Wilderness section coming up next.

Ann, bookkeeper extraordinaire, gave us a budget boost by adding our emergency cash and my leftover birthday money to our general funds. We’re still behind, but it seems more manageable now.

Near Browning, MT

When I look up after stuffing my pack this morning there is a moose staring at me. It’s a cow, and she’s not too close for comfort, so I take her picture. I’m glad it’s not the bull I saw across the lake last night, he looked big. I heft my pack and start towards the trail when I see the bull by the outhouse. He IS big. He stares at me too, his lofty antlers swaying. There’s a tree between us, which is okay by me. Just then the cow spooks and trots off. The bull moves so he’s between us, as if to say, “Hey bub, yer upsettin’ the lady.” He stands with his butt toward me, a little closer to the trail than I care for. I wait. After a while he takes a few steps and starts grazing. I sneak past. I have to admit it made my heart race.

I climb up to Pitamaken Pass and have breakfast with a great view. It only gets better as I cross the divide and traverse south to Dawson Pass. At the south end of the range I can see is a jagged tooth of a peak that looks especially formidable. I wonder if I’ll see it again later.

On the way down to Two Medicine Lake I meet two CDT hikers from Israel, Sarah and Oshi (misspelled I’m sure). They started at the Mexico border on May 1, and have been flip-flopping all over the place. I wouldn’t have pegged them as through hikers at all, but Sarah recognized my maps and stopped me. I may very well run into them again in Wyoming as they continue their multi-flop hike.

There is a store at Two Medicine Campground, so I have lunch and Huckleberry frozen yoghurt for dessert. Then I start my second climb of the day, 2200 feet to Scenic Point. This is probably the best view over the plains I will get. They just spill out into infinity. The horizon is hazy – someone at the campground said it might be from fires in British Columbia.

When I reach East Glacier I call Ann. She got a room in town because it’s close to our first wedding anniversary. We thought we might not be able to do anything special because of our tight budget, but she decided on one last splurge and I’m glad. We have our favorite pizza and beer, watch cheesey movies, and tell each other how wonderful our marriage is. It’s been the best year of my life.

Near Glacier National Park, MT

Sleeping until 6:30 feels like sleeping in. I have a leisurely breakfast followed by hot cocoa, and start up the trail around 8:30, feeling luxuriously lazy.

I still make it up Triple Divide Pass by noon. I have lunch there to maximize my time up high. The triple divide is point on a peak just to the west where the divides between the Pacific, Atlantic, and Hudson Bay meet. I try to imagine the landscape descending to the different bodies of water in each direction.

There are goats with kids laying around just below the pass. They aren’t mountain goats, but they don’t look domestic either. They are blamed for much of Glacier Park’s giardia problem. Beyond them multiple hanging valleys shelter lakes that spill down in waterfalls at one end.

Headed down again, my mind drifts to various points in past. I think of problems I’ve worked on in school and during my career, and wonder what’s in store. Before I know it I’ve arrived at my campsite, with the whole afternoon in front of me. I wash my suffering socks while a moose bull takes a bath across the lake. He shakes his antlers, drinks, and just stands around in the ice cold water.

A small guided group arrives. Cory, the guide, works at Big Mountain ski area in the winter and guides in the summer. She likes her life. In between seasons she has time for her own pack trips in places like Chile.

The question for tomorrow is where to camp after I meet Ann without spending a bundle. Cory and a passing ranger both thought the park campground at Two Medicine lake would be the best deal. I’ll hike through there, so I can check it out.

Near Glacier National Park, MT

I’m underway at 6 am, the only person stirring in the giant campground. There is, however, a black bear snuffing around the quiet RVs. He looks at me for a second before shuffling off behind a bush.

I’m in the salad again this morning, and it is wet. My pants and shoes are soon just as wet as if I were wading in the lake. There are more amazing cliffs and waterfalls to gaze up at. This morning they disappear into white clouds at the top.

At Morning Eagle Waterfall I have breakfast. It’s cold with no sun, but it keeps the bugs down.

I’ve gone over Piegan Pass before I start to see other hikers. As I approach Going to the Sun Road their numbers increase. I drop back below treeline to march through salad once again, but it’s nice and dry on this side.

Going to the sun Road is about my halfway point for the day, so I eat lunch there. There are groups of kids marching by in lines, heading down the trail. They form part of a genuine crowd on the trail that peaks at St. Mary Falls. I walk amidst groups and families, the only one with a backpack. We pass some really pretty waterfalls, ending with Virginia Falls. After that the trail goes into salad again, and I walk along St. Mary Lake without seeing another soul. The sun comes out and the water laps lazily on the shore.

By the time I leave the lake and climb to Red Eagle creek I’m starting to feel tired. I have to go 3/4-mile downstream, away from my eventual destination, to reach a suspension bridge. It’s always harder to walk when you think you’re going ‘the wrong way’. By the time I reach the bridge I’m beat. I stop for dinner. Just as I take my wet tent out to dry, the sun goes behind a cloud.

Dinner fixes me up. The tent dries anyway, and the prospect of another few miles seems okay.

I pull into Upper Red Eagle campground around 8 pm, in pretty good shape for a 30-mile day. I even have enough energy to chat with my campmates a bit before bed. When a very tired hiker wanders up his wife says, “Ask him how far he hiked today!” The man looks wearily at me and says, “Tell me, and I just might poke you with this walking stick, you healthy young brat!” We all laugh.

Near Glacier National Park, MT

I make breakfast at the campground, and get on the trail around 8. It climbs to the divide, providing the best views yet of the array of icy peaks to the west. I wish I could name them, but they are just off all my maps.

I pass a few parties headed north. At Ahern Creek, where the trail crosses a steep snowfield and cliff, some park service employees are shoveling a path through the drift. I gather that two of them are students and the other a part-time biologist. For them this is a summer job that provides matchless views.

I see some signs for a chalet, and decide maybe I’ll stop there for lunch and check it out. Sure enough, there are rooms for rent, tourists milling about, and a small hiker store. I nearly buy some frozen treats, but decide I’ll have plenty of opportunity for that tonight.

At Swiftcurrent Pass I cross the divide again, back to the Hudson Bay side. I’d like to climb up to the lookout on Swiftcurrent Peak, but I’d have to haul the pack up it and I don’t feel quite that energetic. I can see that to climb peaks in this park comfortably you would plan a day for it, so you can store your food at a campground while you’re away.

The other side of the pass is amazing. A glacier sitting on top of a huge cliff sends water sailing down in freefall to a lush valley, where it makes crystal blue lakes.

My campground is between some of the lower lakes. It’s huge, with RV’s and SUV’s everywhere. It takes me twenty minutes to hike to the host, get directions, and hike to my site. Fortunately, it is an easy walk from the store and restaurant.

I set up my tent, eat a good but too-small pizza, buy more food and ice cream at the store, and continue to munch at my site. My neighbor emerges sleepily from his tent to tell me he’s just returned from Seattle. He was hiking here with a girl he met until she panicked because she had to catch a plane in Seattle the next day. He pulled an allnighter to get her there in her rental car. They got to the airport in time, but the girl had lost her wallet and couldn’t leave. He got on a train back to Montana, couldn’t sleep on the train, and had just woken from his first good sleep. I tell him I hope he has some good memories for his trouble.

I eat some frozen yogurt and call Ann. She tells me we’re $500 over our budget of $230 per week. I don’t think this will sink us, but we’re going to be squeezed for a while. I just hope we can cut our spending through the rest of Montana and still enjoy ourselves.

I get ready to hit the sack early. Tomorrow is my 30-mile day.

Unable to sleep, I get up and talk with Jack and Doug, some late arrivals at the site. They’re up from Berkeley, and we talk about Sierra climbing while they make their dinner. They say they were the recipients of great generosity from strangers at lunch, and they pass it on by sharing their beer, wine, pasta, and hot dogs with me. Now I should sleep well!

Near Glacier National Park, MT

I pack for a five day trip through Glacier National Park. It’s too problematic and expensive to meet Ann along the way. We’re both unhappy about it.

After a good breakfast I get on the trail. It travels for several miles along the beautifully clear Waterton Lake, with sculpted peaks soaring up on all sides. There are just a few markers at the border, then more lakeshore. The border is a different world from our Mexican border beginning.

I check back in to the US at the Goat Haunt Ranger station, and eat lunch at the pavillion there. I figure, correctly, that the mosquitos are going to get bad up the trail a ways.

I’ve never walked through such thick vegetation. There is a trail, but leaves and flowers hang over it waist- and shoulder-high. It’s hot and a thousand leafy smells comingle in the humid air. I feel like I’m swimming in a giant green salad. I struggle to move fast enough to keep the mosquitos from biting.

It takes a while, but finally I begin to climb out of the Waterton Valley to the divide. The mosquitos thin out, and the views improve. These mountains really look like they were made to astound us. Some of the pointy peaks still have snow sticking to one side like frosting. All of them have many layers peeling away to make dramatic shapes.

I reach Fifty Mountain, my reserved camp, around 5:30 pm. A few other campers explain the layout so I can find a good site. There’s lots of time to hang out, talk, make dinner, and read. I find I’m the elder of the group. The youngest are two guys from Minnesota spent a night between two buildings in Kalispell to save money on their way here. It’s fun to see people just getting started exploring the world.

Near Improvement District No. 4, 01

The tent is soaked with dew this morning, which sets us looking for a sunny place to make breakfast. We find it at a rest stop near Great Falls, but of course forget to dry the tent.

I get a sandwich for lunch in Shelby, which I recognize from my 1999 bike tour. I came through at the exact same time of year, possibly even to the day. It’s strange to mingle these two extremely different trips in my head.

I keep stopping and spending too much money on ice cream and treats.

At last we cross the border into Canada without incident. We pay eight bucks to get into Waterton Park, where we pick up my backcountry permit for Glacier National Park. I have to say, the only reason I get this permit is that Ann got on the phone two days ago and did it for me. I never would have been on the ball like that, and she got the very last backcountry campsites available. The catch is that I have to follow the itinerary strictly, camping in reserved sites with bearproof food storage, and one day I’ll have to make nearly 30 miles. We have to pay $4 per night, plus a $20 reservation fee. We worry about how much it will cost for Ann to camp with the car. The national park is hitting our budget hard. Regardless, we’re thankful to get a walk-in site for $16 in Waterton tonight. It’s right at the trailhead, and we’ll have access to showers, laundry, and ice cream tonight.

Near White Sulphur Springs, MT

It’s raining when we wake up. It lightens up while we break camp, but it seems like we’re in for a wet day.

We decide to try to find breakfast in Casper. We drive in a big spiral through neighborhoods and construction detours before we find downtown. Then we wander around on foot amidst the few highrise buildings until we settle on a place called Eggington’s. It looks like a chain, albeit classy one, even though I’ve never seen one before. They have cappucino and green chile and portions as big as my appetite can handle, which is more than I expected to find with our random methods. We leave Casper ready for the road.

It rains hard. Even with new tires, the car hydroplanes a little. After a while it eases up, and we explore some towns.

Sheridan, Wyoming has a genuine-looking old main street, and a Dairy Queen with $2.59 banana splits and no bathroom. We drive through some neighborhoods to get back to the freeway. It looks like a decent place to live.

Billings, Montana is surrounded by oil refineries. We drive through a downtown with a few highrises like Casper and onto the strip, where we do seemingly endless errands. We spend all afternoon there.

Finally White Sulpher Springs, Montana smells like it sounds and has a nice public picnic area where we make grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. A short drive north and we’re in Lewis & Clark National Forest, where we are once again free to camp with the cattle.

Near Encampment, WY

The divide here continues to be really pleasant ridge walking among sparse trees and boulders. I enter the Huston Park Wilderness, where the trail tread ends and posts and cairns begin. It’s a well-marked trail, but retains the feel of a cross-country hike.

A pair of southbound hikers, John and Tony, pass me on their way from Rawlins to Chama. They ask about cheap hotels in Steamboat, but I’m not any help.

Later I meet Larry (The Salesman) on his way from Pinedale to Silverthorne. He’s in high spirits after crossing the Great Basin. I answer lots of very specific questions about the route ahead of him, which he seems to know much better than I ever know what’s ahead of me. He’s carrying a very light-looking pack, and seems to have his act together.

I’m running late for my noon rendevous with Ann, so I put the steam on. Coming down to Long Park I see Ann’s tracks in some mud, so I know she’s headed back to the car already. I’m not surprised, but I feel sorry I missed her. I walk fast to Battle Pass, arriving a few minutes after her.

This is as far as I will walk headed north. We’ll drive from here to Waterton, Canada, where I will start walking south back to Battle Pass. There’s more than half the trail still waiting for me in Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming. This flip-flop will take me through the mountains of Glacier National Park in the summer, and leave the Red Desert for the fall. Hopefully I won’t have to be too concerned with early snowfall in the mountains.

We head to the Hobo Pool in Saratoga, where I soak my tired body in the mineral hot springs. After soup and sandwiches for dinner we drive north to BLM land in Shirley Basin, where we camp for free in the wide prarie with scattered grazing cattle.