CDT Day 103 (8/29/23)

Miles 2486.4 (Red line 2830.8)- 2502.5 (Red line 2846.9) (16.1 miles)

Verbatim

Today is unfinished. It’s currently 4:45 at the time of writing, but has been unfortunately stunted. I’ve arrived at Badger Station, where the formal CDT is closed because of the fire. I’ve been here now since 2:30. I’m resting in the shade outside a completely chromed cabin, to prevent its immolation, and can hear the chatter of the radio. There are also a dozen or so tents scattered around the station. There’s food inside the cabin, which is bolted but unlocked. Fire crew will return here, and for them I wait. They’re not back yet, however, which leads me to believe the fire is on the far end of the closure. The radio calls seemed to indicate work stopped an hour or so ago.

Well we will see what becomes of things. I wanted to discuss a route with the fire crew. I broke inside the cabin and looked at the maps. 154 and 155 trails are behind me now, and were not ever adjacent to my path along the CDT. These firemen will likely see many more confused CDT hikers come through here. If no one shows up, which seems unlikely, I’ll just hike the closure at night I think. I’ve only gone fifteen miles today. Which is really frustrating because it’s thirty still to town, and I was really looking forward to arriving in East Glacier for lunch. That said, it has been nice to feel the softness of the wind and summer warmth this afternoon. It’s nice to not have to strive. And trail is always more peaceful than town. It’s getting windy, and seems like a bank of clouds is rolling in. Is this a change in the weather system?

I walked the high route today, which was really beautiful. It’s always good going up high. I also enjoyed many thimble berries today. And I’ve run out of toilet paper. Well. There’s today’s happenings.

Hanging with the fire crew was so cool. Camile was so kind and friendly. Excited to talk because she wants to walk the PCT. David was a real friend. He’s from Portland (Oregon)! And he cares about his world. Ingrid made and gave me food. Wow and thank you. Badger ranger station you are awesome.

It’s now a major thunder storm and I’m tucked inside my tent.

Also, Camile gave me TP. :)

Post Note

Ah man. I should join a fire crew after all. hahaha. I’ll make an enemy out of a good thing, which would be fire, if it meant being able to spend a summer with someone like Camile. Anyone who can hand TP to a hiker in need with a straight face is totally datable. She probably didn’t think the same thing about me though. And trying to romance on a summer’s fire crew probably isn’t the place. Those things either happen naturally or make everything awkward and awkward and a pain for the whole summer. Knowing me I’d fuck it up anyways. Oh well. I am who I am.

Talking with Camile was fun because she was interested and asked lots of questions. But I don’t think she was particularly interested in me. I think she was interesting in learning what she could from me. David, however, seemed like he just wanted to sit on the ground and chat with someone new while we looked at the thunderous clouds slowly roll in over the high pass I’d climbed that day. David was so nice. When I was walking I had a choice to take a short cut by the river (flat, easily graded and well maintained, by water, and three less miles) instead of the climb. But man I climbed. I was going to miss being up high and I knew it. I loved that climb. I listened to podcasts, I fell into a rhythm, and I watched the world unfold around me. The switchbacks were well constructed. There was a final blast to the pass on the final third of the climb. And it was the last climb I experienced alone. When I got to the top I could see the magnificence of the mountains in Glacier National Park. Those would be crowded and permitted places. Here I was my own and I was the world. You start to miss it before it’s even gone. You know it’s love.

And on the descent there were berries! They were drier and less plentiful thimble berries and probably rejoiced in the rain which fell that night. But they were still berries. It’s so fun reaching out as you walk to grab those shallow berries from their branches. You’re moving at 3mph and the berry is stationary. But sometimes the berry branch is slightly swaying in the wind, which enjoyably adds to the challenge. The berry is really fragile on its perch, so you have to gingerly pluck them with thumb and forefinger. You don’t want to squish them, nor do you want to miss them. Sometimes I do miss them and then I spin a 180 and go back. Other times I realize the berry density is so deep into the thick brambles that I stop walking and start invading, quite obtrusively at times I’ll admit, the surrounding bushes. Berries. :)

Those evening clouds came in so strong. I milked every last minute of conversation with the fire crew before the droplets started to fall. People my own age. Connection unabused out of loneliness or anxiety. The fire crew laughed at me, amused, as I high tailed it out of the Badger Station (I legally wasn’t allowed to camp there while they were present) as the thick droplets began to fall. They probably thought I was doomed. But I knew what I was doing. I had my plan. I’d been out for the last 100 days. I found the copse of thick pines only a few hundred yards down the path I’d spotted earlier and dove in. I set my tarp up amidst the pokey and pointy needle-less understory branches. And it poured. And I didn’t get wet. And I was warm and dry on a soft bed. When I awoke after a night of drenching rain only the bottom third of my tarp had even seen precipitation.