Day 100 – Pickle Guns
Day miles: 30
Trip miles: 2017
I love dry campsites. There’s nothing quite like waking up to a perfectly dry tent. If you’re not much of a backpacker, you might wonder why my tent would be wet if it hasn’t rained. As the temperature cools down overnight (and there are big temperature swings between night and day out here), condensation will form on the inside of my single wall tent if I am camped around moist areas. A single wall tent is simply a tent designed to keep water out without a rain fly (a cover that goes over double wall tents to keep water (rain) out).
Water features and grassy meadows tend to have a lot of condensation. Therefore, I seek out sites away from water and grass. Pine forests are great because they tend to be quite dry. Anyway, this is a quality that I always look for when I am trying to find a place to camp. I like a dry tent!
It was day two of my 30 mile per day challenge, so I got moving a little before 7AM. My first stop involved a cross-country bushwhack off trail to a spring. This helped me break up a long water carry. It was a funny little spring in that I couldn’t see it in the tall grass, but I could hear it lightly bubbling from the forest road I arrived at after cutting cross country from the trail. I followed the sound through a small meadow, sending a few cows running in terror. Once I parted the grass, the spring looked like a small trench and had a nice pour over that I could utilize to fill up my bottle, though I had to take a knee and thrust my arm way down to fill up.
Conveniently, I was able to hop back on the dirt road and follow it to a junction point with the trail. I passed two hikers named Sledge and Anvil packing up camp when I did so. I had seen them in Leadore for the first time, but did not really know them.
Anvil passed me fairly soon after I passed him. I hiked on and my water lasted me quite some miles until the next spring. I saw a hiker named Shepherd, along with Anvil, at the junction to the road down to the spring. They were taking a break and filtering water. I walked down the hill and took my break in the shade beside the spring. It was there that I met Pickle Guns.
Pickle Guns thru-hiked the CDT last year. He took something called the Big Sky alternate due to fires on Idaho-Montana border. He had come back to see this section of the CDT this year, and said he wasn’t sure yet how far south he would hike.
Pickle Guns had what was perhaps the best and most unique trail name I have ever heard. I considered asking him about it, but the visual in my mind was so perfectly formed that I decided to believe that instead of digging for the truth. Pickle Guns was wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and I had a vision of him with two large, kosher dill pickles tucked neatly into holsters affixed to each hip. On my head, he would draw them out like Billy the Kid and pretend to shoot with them. He was the fastest gherkin in the west! If pretending pickles were six shooters was NOT how he got his trail name, I didn’t care to have my bubble burst.
I left Pickle Guns to defend the spring and took the dirt road to another dirt road that cut steeply back up to the CDT. I didn’t know it at the time because I do not go back to the original junction, but this would put me in front of Anvil, Shepherd, and Sledge again. Such is the mystery of hiker positions on the trail – I thought for sure they had finished lunch and were in front of me.
I successfully finished my second day of hiking 30 miles, settling in a random spot in a nice, dry pine forest. I had also successfully survived and enjoyed 100 days of this journey! It felt like a milestone, even though I was no where in particular. It was quiet and clear with no rain in sight. I didn’t last more than 10 minutes after I ate my dinner. Grateful for another good day, I fell fast asleep to the special sound of nothing. While counterintuitive, one can hear many things from silence. It’s a magical space where feelings, thoughts, and sound occur without footprints.
Day 101 – The Winds?
Day miles: 30.1
Trip miles: 2047.1
I made coffee in the darkness of the early morning. The light hiss of burning fuel cut through the nothingness, announcing to the forest that I was awake. Shhhhhhhhhhh, went my stove. An annoyed red squirrel chittered at me as if I had not been there all night. Perhaps I had interrupted his sleeping in.
Most hikers I meet out here aren’t carrying stoves. The CDT is full of experienced hikers – real gram weenies who have long since ditched stoves to avoid carrying them and the necessary fuel canister. I am well aware that I don’t need a stove. Other hikers have even made comments about it, as if I wouldn’t have already conceived that it is extra weight.
Sure, I could cold soak my rice sides or mashed potatoes. I could even only pack foods that require no soaking at all, like tortillas, meat sticks, and things of that nature. But damn, that hot meal is GOOD! It is a ritual I look forward to, and the occasional morning coffee is a delight as well. While I could definitely do without my stove, I am really happy to continue carrying it for these moments.
I got myself going early enough, though not too early. It was probably about 7am. The days are getting shorter now and I notice it most in the mornings. It is hard to see without a headlamp until 6:30 or so.
I hiked through some mixed terrain, passing an area with parking access. I heard dogs in the distance barking up a storm and wondered if people were hunting nearby. Antelope (pronghorn) and elk season had just gotten underway.
I rounded a bend and, as I did so, heard a very loud and funny yell. I wasn’t sure if someone was yelling something to me, but I wanted my presence to be known if it was not, so I awkwardly yelled back, “what?!” The man’s yell had been so loud that it was a bit off-putting.
As I completed the curve in the trail, I saw two men with huge backpacks standing there, along with one dog with a pack on its back. I quickly realized that (1) this was one of the dogs I had heard running around and barking in the woods, and (2) the man was trying to call the other dog back, which had now gone silent.
It was clearly a mess, so I just said hello and kept moving. For at least a mile and a half I continued to hear the man shouting for the dog. I could tell that he was walking up a creek that I was near. The dogs weren’t leashed, so I assumed that they had caught the sight or scent of something and bounded after it. Wouldn’t most dog owners know this though, and keep those eager beavers leashed so they wouldn’t get lost? This is, of course, a rhetorical question, as are so many that we ask ourselves about the behavior of humans. Hopefully they found that dog because it probably would not survive very long out there on its own.
Around mid-day I came upon a lake with a beautiful white mountain backdrop – similar to the stunning granite mountains in the Winds back in Wyoming. I decided to take a lunch break there and sat down to make some peanut butter tacos.
A hiker named Monk stopped by. I had passed him earlier while he was just off trail picking huckleberries next to a creek. Monk knew who I was because he had used the CDT planning spreadsheet I distribute for free via the Trip Planners page on my website. He thanked me for it, which was nice! I don’t know if many people on trail have used it. He was the first to mention it, though it is definitely a popular download item in general.
Monk and I chatted for a bit. He was in his 50s and from Georgia, so we had some basics in common. He said he was tight on food for this stretch, so I offered him some, but he declined saying that he could make his supply work. I’m kind of the same way. Unless it is an emergency or just a fun token taste of something, I’m not going to ask for or accept food from other thru-hikers. It’s too precious a resource!
Monk hiked on and I enjoyed my view while I finished lunch. I smeared some sunscreen on my already filthy legs. I was using some Banana Boat sport SPF 50+ that I found in a hiker box. The last few towns haven’t had anything over SPF 30. It was a pretty bad sunscreen though. It didn’t last long and it was very greasy, so it combined with dirt to form a kind of charcoal-colored paste on my legs. It was better than sunburn though.
I continued on, hiking over a pass or two. The sky was threatening rain, but only a few clusters of drops fell, at least for a while. The terrain more and more resembled the colors and textures of the Wind River range, with rocky granite mountains dominating the landscape.
Towards the end of the day, I ran into two hikers, Heavy D and Mouse. I seemed to be meeting new people daily now. We had just enough time to say our hellos. I stopped to collect water from a stream and they continued into the fading light.
It was almost dark when I stopped for the evening. It was starting to sprinkle, but thunder and lightning were also joining the stage, so I quickly set up in front of a mountain face formed by a giant boulder field. I was grateful to have found a campsite in the nick of time, both to avoid getting wet again and because I was tired.
I watched the lightning illuminate the walls of my tent. It was a bit like some kind of mad shadow puppet show, only the actors never appeared. Fortunately the lightning never got too close or intense, and the light rain served only to sing me to sleep, rather than to prove its might by drowning out the blackness of the cloudy night.
Day 102 – The Berry Good Day
Day miles: 30
Trip miles: 2077.1
Despite the prior evening’s storm, the morning was a clean slate. It was a tad overcast, but the rising sun soon burned up most of the clouds in a gorgeous sunrise.
I got going just before, or around, 7AM. It is dark later into the mornings now, so I struggle to start hiking earlier than 6:30 or 7. I like a little wake up time, especially if that means coffee.
I passed Heavy D and Mouse fairly soon, as well as a female German hiker I had not yet met. Before long, I came upon another NOBO hiker named Shredder. I would learn that he was a musician from Asheville, NC, but first he introduced me to huckleberries.
When I hiked up on Shredder, he was standing in the trail rooting around in the adjacent bushes. “These huckleberries are really slowing me down,” he said (or something to that effect). Now, I knew that huckleberries looked like blueberries, but I didn’t know how to identify them or what the plants looked like. I had been wanting to learn, and here was the perfect opportunity.
Shredder thrust another handful of berries in his mouth, pointing the plants out to me. They’re not unlike blueberries, though I guess I think of them as the scrappy cousin to a blueberry. I realized they were all over the place, but not all of the plants had berries on them.
I ate huckleberries while I talked with Shredder, and realized exactly what he meant. I tried to continue hiking, but I now saw huckleberries everywhere. I kept stopping to eat more.
I managed to keep making progress, but the section of trail I was walking through was just chock full of berries. In addition to huckleberries, there were raspberries and bright red thimble berries, my personal favorite. There were so many alongside the trail that I thought for sure I would see a bear feasting on them. I did not, however. All I saw was my own hands turning a rosy red hue from berry juice.
Eventually I just had to stop myself. It helped that I finally climbed out of berry valley at some point. As delicious as they were, I knew I could eat until the sun set if left to my own devices.
I joined a forest road from the trail and wandered down to a trailhead where a group of young men and women were eating lunch. They were a civilian conservation corps team sent to fix a fence at the trailhead. We chatted for a bit, and then I retreated to a nearby tree where I could recline and eat some peanut butter tacos. I wished I had saved some berries to add to the tacos.
I hiked back on trail for a while, but finished the day on a forest road just a few miles from the highway into Darby. I had finished my 4th consecutive 30-mile day! I felt good about that as I inhaled two packs of M&Ms. Tomorrow I would wake up early to get into Darby for breakfast. I had heard good things about the Montana Cafe in town, and I wanted to be there bright and early to feast.
Day 103 – Darby and The Disappointment
Day miles: 11.1
Trip miles: 2088.2
I got myself going in the dark today. The light from my headlamp bobbed up and down on the dirt road in front of me, warding away the goblins and ghouls of the night. It was chilly and quiet, almost like there was no other life at all around me. The piles of collected and felled dead trees that the forest service had stacked along the road were like sad, hasty graves. The twisted bodies of trees seemed to cry silently. Rigor mortise had always been their way of life, but they had stood erect, not prostrate, as they now helplessly lay, preparing for another day of bleaching by the sun.
It didn’t take me long to get to the first road that intersected the trail, and not long after that to arrive at the highway into Darby. A “Welcome to Montana” sign awaited – I was still on the Idaho border, as was the highway, apparently. The sign has a large bear on it and a bunch of random stickers people had affixed to it. In New Mexico, every sign had bullet holes. I supposed stickers were an improvement.
It only took me about 10 to 12 minutes to get a ride into town, even though it was only a little after 7AM. A nice lady who was running a shuttle for a rafting company stopped for me. She would go through Darby on her long trip to get to her own destination. It was a pleasant ride and left me feeling great about my first Montana hitching experience.
My shepherd dropped me off in front of Montana Cafe. It looked awfully quiet, and I quickly figured out why. In all of my obsessing over eating an enormous breakfast there, I forgot to check and see if they were open 7 days a week. I had also forgotten it was Sunday. The sign on their door said they were closed on Sundays and Mondays.
It hit me in that moment, swiftly, like a lock in a sock in a dark and lonely prison cell, that I was not going to get the Montana Cafe breakfast – not today, not tomorrow. Further, there were no other breakfast restaurants in town. The horror!! I realize that these are extreme first world problems, but hunger has a funny way of pulling the mind into ridiculous fantasies. I had been obsessing over this meal for days, and in some cases it served as a bit of motivation. I was crushed.
Not one to dwell, however, I quickly formed another plan. There was no point in staying in Darby without the breakfast. I didn’t need to pay to tent at an RV park when I could tent in the woods for free. I would just resupply, eat some grocery store food, and use the RV park to shower and do laundry. And that’s exactly what I did.
The grocery store was decent and had hot, pre-made breakfast sandwiches and burritos. I got one of each and a Bavarian long John donut. My donut was a “blank” though – no cream inside! The horror! I ate like a wild man on a bench outside the store, walked across the street to Family Dollar to top off my resupply, then headed to the RV park.
The RV park office was closed, but I saw the laundry room and bathrooms and went to check them out. Olive Oil was sitting inside the laundry. I had thought she was behind me, but she had hiked 35 miles the first day out of Leadore and passed my tent at dusk. This is how hiker leapfrogging goes!
I went ahead and showered, and then found the camp host to pay and get change for laundry. I spent a while just washing clothes and trying to start thinking through the logistics of finishing up the trail. I chatted with Olive Oil and other hikers as they came in, so I didn’t get very far with my planning.
Later in the day I hiked over to a restaurant/pub that had some food and ordered a brisket sandwich and fries. The sandwich was quite good! It was a little after 5PM, so I finished my meal quickly and walked down to the edge of town to hitch a ride. After about 12 minutes, a nice man gave me a ride up to the road where I had hitched in this morning. He was an interesting guy – in the Marine reserves and also a pharmacist. He had a giant cake in his backseat that I couldn’t help but stare at. He also pointed out a big house and piece of land that were all coned off with security present. Apparently, that is where a Kevin Costner series called “Yellowstone” is filmed. I had never heard of it, but now I want to check it out.
As soon as I hopped out of the car at the road, it began to rain. I crossed over the highway to another dirt road that I would walk for a while, and the rain picked up a bit. I figured it would stop soon, so I kept walking without rain gear. This was a bad decision.
The sky opened up and before I knew it I was scrambling to pack away my camera and get my rain gear on. The large raindrops were kicking up mud and sand from the road. I managed to get my jacket and rain skirt on, but I was a sandy mess.
The rain continued for an hour or so, accompanied by thunder and lightning. I was pretty soaked, so instead of stopping short at 5 miles out of town as I had planned, I kept going to give myself a chance to dry off a bit. This worked fairly well.
I hiked until dark looking for a place to camp, and around 9PM found a nice flat space in a pine forest at the top of a mountain. It was perfect! I set up there, happy to have a dry campsite and ready to eat the king size Zero bar I had packed out of town. I had eaten a gas station sandwich earlier.
It was quiet in the forest, and I reflected in my Darby experience. Even though the cafe had been closed, it had been a great little town. Everyone had been kind and people had been willing to help with rides. I fell asleep grateful for these things. I wondered if any hikers had ever gotten a lift from Kevin Costner….
You might also like
