CDT Day 97 (8/23/23)

2316.3 (Red line 2660.7)- 2344.8 (Red line 2689.2) (28.5 miles)

Verbatim

Better milage today. I was hoping for 30, but it’s alright. I’m currently sitting on a plastic chair in a random yurt on a mountain in Montana. It’s awesome. I’ll be sharing camp with the mice tonight. It’s windy as heck outside as well. And the ground is gravely. So, I am not complaining about a 28.5 if it means I get to be inside on a cot. It was a late start, 8am again, because of buying food at High Divide Outfitters. That store is ridiculous. It is packed full of everything. You could walk there and completely outfit yourself for an assortment of outdoor activities. Really incredible. It is packed to the brim. As you walk through you have to be careful not to knock things over.

I bought food. And hopefully enough. I’m so hungry all the time. I spent $97 on food for 82 miles. Not bad really. And I am so thankful not to have to go into town. With a tiny pack and no trash to manage town is easy. But man, with this backpack, my shoes off the back, and this broken trekking pole town is a hassle. Stay on trail and do miles! No town for me.

It didn’t rain at all today! Which really feels like a miracle. Because it rained hard last night and looked so menacing this morning. But, things seemed to clear out. It got really windy in the afternoon. The views were hazy. But I kind of like the way the haze textures the different layers of mountains. Each layer a different hue of grey. I like that a lot actually. The views this evening reminded me of Nor Cal on the PCT. Except the mountains were more broad. Less tight.

It was windy and shaded and cool because of the clouds. I had fun listening to Critical Role and The Daily. The climbs didn’t seem as hard and the pack lighter, even though it was definitely heavier with food and long water carries. That’s what enough calories, dry sleep, and some uplifting social contact will do for you. I laughed a lot yesterday. And people were smiling at me. I was smiling back. Friends!

This trail has been lonely and angry and sad.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of being hit on my bicycle. I wonder what tomorrow will be like.

Oh! I saw lots of Grouse today too. :) And some Elk this evening. And there were thimble berries to pick and eat at this evening’s water.

Post Note

This was one of the best days on trail. It’s another one of those days were I can remember a lot of moments from the trail with a pretty incredible amount of vividity. I can remember turning at that switchback in the morning and noticing the dry packed grass where Buttsweat Bill, Hershey Squirts, and Pinky had set up camp and withstood the rain. I remember the tree canopy opening into a dry vista at the top. I can remember that open wet meadow when the podcast was making me laugh. I can remember the dense trees afterwards when I turned to look behind me, noticing the lack of any Squirrels and the dark clouds still hanging to the horizon. I can remember the wind picking up, the public parking I arrived at just as I desperately needed to poop, looking and refusing the outhouse to instead poop down the hill. I remember the quarter mile walk to reach the water under the highway. A Fawn and Doe were there. They shared with me. I can remember the tingling glory of the sun breaking through to illuminate the world. The wind picked up with the sun and blew hard erasing every last vestige of the wet damp world left from the night before. It blew hard enough up high to make me thirsty. It was sunny enough to make me dry. I can remember the burn zone which arched up the mountain. The trail only dipped a toe down into the burn zone. Even if things had been actively afire one could have raced through without leaving the trail. I remember sitting to eat dinner with little water at the saddle beneath the last rise before the climb. I sheltered behind a krummholz to hide from the blistering wind. It got cold in the shade over dinner. The descent was glorious and became heaven on earth as I dropped my pack to scramble all around a stream to pick juicy red thimble berries from branches that other hikers had been too lazy to gather. Berry bushes are like that. They ripped over a duration of time, so there’s something for every hiker that comes along until the fruiting is done. Those berries are life.

There were a few moments that really stick out as true childsplay from my CDT hike. Glissading Lake Ann Pass was one. Climbing with an exhausted body for berries is another.

I remember the Elk on the ascent on the other side of the highway I didn’t have to hitch from because I didn’t need to go town. They were glorious, and snorted at me before moving along. I flowed anti-gravitationally up that climb. It was climbing at its best. There was no effort; only flow. G-d I miss the CDT.