FOllow me on the CDT #13: Heart of Montana

It was pouring rain. It was not the afternoon sprinkle I was accustomed from Colorado. This was a good ole' fashion east coast pour. I put my poncho on only to have the hood blow off immediately. Fine. I'll just get wet. Then I remembered my new umbrella, a souvenir my sister mailed from her trip to Japan. I have never carried an umbrella on trail before and it proved its worth on the exposed road walk the previous day. Time to see how it does in the rain. I popped it open and we continued to trudge on, heads down, sulking in the bad weather. The umbrella was an improvement to the situation, but after an hour or so we were both cold and wet.

The landscape was nothing to look at either. The past day or so was rolling hills through trees. There would occasionally be a break for a large bare hilltop, but otherwise it was forest walking. I love the expanse of Montana and the 'largeness' that comes with seeing rolling hills in all directions for miles and miles. The dark clouds and persistent afternoon drizzle was shrinking the terrain.

At 6:30pm we found a clearing large and flat enough to set up camp. The clouds were so thick that you could easily think it was 8:30pm. I was shivering as I unrolled my quilt and prepared to brave the outdoors again for dinner. Naturally that is when it started to pour again in earnest. For the first time in griz country, we ate in the tent. As I sat there huddled in my puffy listening to the rain smack the tent, I was perfectly okay to take my chance with a bear to sit in the storm.

My spirits were low, and I tried to focus on the high points of the week. When we started back on the red line around Butte, the terrain was new and fun. The hills were constructed from Large 'bubbly' looking boulders. The underbrush was a mix of trees, shrubs, and boulders of varying sizes. Raspberry bushes grew wild, slowing down our pace as we filled a Ziploc. Just the previous night we ran into a group a trail angels refilling a cooler on trail and they sent us off with multiple sodas, chips, jerky, cheese, and candy. Sure, tonight I am shivering in the tent eating a cold burrito but last night I was sipping soda overlooking a sunset. This is just the web and flow of trail.

I had to keep reminding myself of those moments when we woke up to a wet fog clinging to the ground and trees. We packed up wet gear and set off. Knowing Helena, Montana was 19 miles away helped keep our pace up. My internal debates about whether to spend the night in town vanished with the sun. Tonight I would be sleeping in a warm, dry bed. The morning continued on with a lingering damp feeling. It was not until close to noon when the trail dumped us out on a dirt road that the sun broke free for brief respites. The only thing standing in between us and town was a maze of blowdowns and a hitch. Both of which made more difficult when Jedi caught up to me with a large gash across his nose, dripping blood. He had been looking at the ground and walked into a spilt branch sticking into the trail. His first priority was making sure the blood did not scare off a potential hitch.

That fear did not materialize. At the highway, on top of a pass, the wind was howling so bad I was struggling to keep my eyes open. My jacket was flapping so badly in the wind that were was no chance someone would see a nose. It all worked out when an old work truck pulled into the parking lot of the pass and motioned us over.

"Where you headed?"

"Helena."

"Jump on in! I am test driving this for work and headed back down."

This was undoubtably the coolest hitch vehicle yet, but was weary of being in the truck when the brakes would be tested down a mountain for what looked like the first time in 20 years. The cab was a thin metal that bounced around when we pulled out of the parking lot. I was sitting on a long bench behind the front two chairs. I think the only instrument working on the dash was the speedometer but I wouldn't have been much surprised if that was inaccurate. Despite all of this, I couldn't stop smiling. The windy, wet mountain behind us and we were on the way into town!

Backseat of the hitch into Helena

Helena was such a good time that we took a zero. This made two zeros a week apart, when we hadn't taken a single zero during the month in Colorado. I knew that we had less than 3 weeks until tagging the Canadian border, but I was having troubles keeping my heart in the game. I was tired. Tired of bad weather. Tired of shitty trail. Tired of bear country. Tired of being tired.

The first two days out of Helena were some of my hardest days on any trail. The terrain was unimaginative. It was hot and weirdly muggy with little to no water on the ridges. Jedi would study alternate routes on Far Out to find lower elevation forest roads to increase our chances of finding water. One of the routes we took followed the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (the biking version of the CDT) and though we hadn't seen another thru hiker in over a week we saw over 10 cyclists in that short morning. We were just as amazed with their journey as they were with ours.

"But how is butt not sore after a full day?"

"It takes you 5 months of walking?!?"

"Wait.. you can bike 100 miles in ONE day?"

"How do you carry enough food to walk between towns?"

Seeing so many cyclists reminded me how much simple camaraderie can do for morale on a long distance hike. When we finally met another hiker, and a NOBO at that, two days later in Lincoln, Montana we were both hesitant to give up the company.

Lincoln was a small, one road town. You had the choice of 5 different bars but a singular grocery store or the one gas station if you need variety. The bars were how we ended up in Lincoln to begin with. A local spot figured out they could capitalize on cheap hikers by allowing us to tent in their backyard. With the option of a free space in town we rolled into Lincoln in time for dinner and a quick drink before making our home at the back of the bar. As we walked around the building I was stunned to see another tent already back there. Another person. Another hiker. This was only the 3rd night on trail where we tented close to another person.

Her name is Wild Child and all 3 of us were instantly absorbed in conversation. The following morning we left town as soon as resupplying in hopes seeing her on trail. It was a tough day out of town with over 6,000ft gain, moving up and down ridges. Naturally there was no water just to make sure we did not get too comfortable. In fact, there was such a lack of water that we camped in a dried lake bed.

The trail heading into Lincoln, Montana

The Bob

From there we headed into the famous Bob Marshall Wilderness - "America's last wilderness." The Bob was a special place, even on such a remote trail as the CDT. It was a 100 mile + resupply through roadless, uninhabited, woods. All these characteristics made it prime territory for griz. I was nervous about heading into a famously griz dense woods and the lack of people only solidified the fear. However, the serenity of the Bob did foster magical moments. We experienced a morning hike on ridgelines looking down on the cloud filled valleys; touching the Chinese Wall (limestone rock formation) in calm morning light; swimming in deep infinity pools of collected stream water.

Overlooking a valley of clouds

Chinese Wall in the background

Amazingly we finished out the Bob without a griz sighting. We did run into two black bears enjoying the abundant huckleberries. The trail was thick and overgrown and berries were sticking out everywhere! I could run my hands through the bushes and collect them without missing a step. It did register that if I was enjoying the berries then surely a bear would be too, so I clacked my trekking poles together every few steps. It was after such a clack that saw movement on the trail in front of us (Jedi was in the lead) and an adolescent brown colored bear stood up, peering over the bushes at us. Immediately it bolted up a tree, and from the noise, we heard a second bear climb up another tree on the opposite side of trail. I was not thrilled they were in trees flanking the trail, huffing and snorting down at us, but at least it confirmed they were black bears. Taking a deep breath I followed close behind Jedi as we sped through the next mile to put distance in between us and them.

Our final night in the Bob was a forest meadow, filled with tall grass. Throughout the entire day we did not see a single human being. It was a true wilderness. I felt it more so than any other moment as we set up the tent in a solidary clearing. Though I had been earning for the end of the trail and a return to society over the past week that night was special and reminded me of the wonder of nature.

Then the wilderness ended. The next night I listened to highway traffic, laying in the tent 2 miles from the road. From that moment on, we would be in the final stage of the CDT - Glacier National Park.

Did not see a grizzly bear, but did see prints!