It’s a day of remote dirt roads for both Ann and me. When I see deep ruts and mudholes in one of the roads on Ann’s route, I leave her a cellphone message suggesting she find another way. At lunch, however, along comes the subaru. Ann made it over the road, but only after leaving me a message that if it rained I might never see her again.

We have a little lunch, then move on. I continue on roads to Mullan Pass, a rolling area of the divide that rises over a busy railroad tunnel and a picturesque wheat farm.

A small trail takes me through the woods past the old rail route over the pass. In a dark, wooded cleft in the divide a fifty-foot high trestle quietly decays next to the trail.

Gunshots accompany my walking rhythm most of the way to MacDonald Pass. People here seem to enjoy getting outdoors and firing a variety of weapons to pass the day. I don’t come within sight of any of them.

At MacDonald Pass Ann finds me. She scored a campsite that someone had already paid for to use during the day. We make camp there and plan our rest day in Helena tomorrow.