Day 104 – The Fountain of Youth
Day miles: 29.9
Trip miles: 2118.1
I tried to get going early today, but still ended up starting close to 7AM. My tent was nice and dry. I drank a coffee to jumpstart myself.
The sun shown through the thick forest of trees as I walked through the misty morning light. It played a game of rapid-fire hide and seek with my eyes, disappearing and reappearing behind individually thin pines grouped relatively closely together. It was like a strobe light that kept dancing into the corner of my eye.
I hiked on through the woods for a while, passing a few streams. I climbed up and the forest opened like a brittle old book where the pages fall out and disintegrate as the binding cracks. I was in a burn zone, presumably from the fire that hit this area last year. There were charred trees both fallen and standing. The only life present was some green weed-like grass. Even the ground was charred.
I passed in and out of burn areas (mostly in). It was rather monotonous; I ended up spending much of the day in my head, either lost in thought or listening to podcasts. The clouds took turns morphing into dark masses that seemed to follow me. It rained lightly, off and on, but mostly off.
Later in the afternoon I needed to find water. The CDT can be funny when it comes to water. Sometimes it is all around; other times, often on the ridges, it is hard to come by. I had been in a dry area for a while, but my map showed a spring not too far off trail. I decided to find it.
I saw a use path leading down away from the CDT in the saddle-like area where the spring was said to be. I followed this, but it led me into an overgrown grassy meadow, and then stopped. I climbed over some dead trees, and then squished my way through a sopping wet area of tall grass. There was definitely water around! The problem was, it was in my socks and not my water bottle. Where was that spring?
I took my headphone out of my ear to listen for the water, but I couldn’t hear it. Clearly I hadn’t followed the correct trail down, so I looked around for clues. There was a comment in my map app, FarOut, about a white rock with green grass below it. I didn’t see a white rock. I reasoned that I had to be close though, so I decided to back track slightly and go towards higher ground, then work my way down the west side of this wet area.
I climbed over more dead trees and over to the side where it was dry. There was a bit of a lip to the dry edge, and I soon realized that it was a trail itself. I followed it down and, to my delight, heard the sound of flowing water. I walked toward it, and as the use oath under my feet became clearer, so too did the sound of the spring.
The spring was not easy to see because it was camouflaged in a small alcove. If you had told me that it was actually the fountain of youth, I might have believed you. It was a beautiful little spring with a spout of water pouring straight out of the earth. I leaned in and collected my treasure. I had been a little annoyed at first, trying to find it and getting my feet wet in the process. Now I was just happy I had pursued it – something about that spring felt special, though I have no doubt that I will still turn 45 this fall.
It is these quests, the prioritization of dreams and the pursuit of adventure, the refusal to submit to the subterfuge of the status quo, that do, in fact, keep me young. These things make me feel alive, or more accurately, full of life. What else is a fountain of youth really? Perhaps the misunderstanding is that its elixir is to provide immortality. Maybe the real magic of these youth fountains is in their pursuit, so that they may prevent us from dying while we are still alive.
Around 5PM I was startled by a voice calling to me. I had walked by a tree and there was a hiker behind it. It ended up being a Canadian hiker named Windchime. I had met her just before the ridge walk to Gray’s Peak, and then last seen her on my way down Torreys. She had been hiking with her New Zealand friend Almost and a guy named Tiempo.
Windchime told me a funny story about a French hiker who, on beginning to climb Torrey’s peak, felt that sudden, uncomfortable urge arise. The 14ers don’t really have a bunch of hiding places – it’s mostly exposed rock. Apparently he went off to find a place to relieve himself, but did not think that he should poop on the mountain in an alpine zone. Instead, he crapped in a plastic grocery bag and hauled his poop around strapped to his pack for a few days. According to sources hiking with him, after a day of that bag baking in the sun, he smelled like a walking privy.
The thought of it all made me crack up. I said bye to Windchime and set out to find a camp spot. Of course, it started to rain again. It didn’t last long, but it was enough to where I wanted to keep walking for a while to try and dry off. I walked through a nice pine area, and should have stopped there to camp, but I pressed on instead.
I found myself in another burn zone. I knew there would be no food place to camp until I got out of it, so I kept hiking. I walked and walked and it just kept going. I finally dropped down and crossed two very marshy creeks. It was way too soggy and muddy to camp there.
I got lucky and found a good spot not long after. It was 8 or 8:30 and the light was fading fast, so it was a relief to not have to get out my headlamp to hike in the dark. I’m not a fan of night hiking, though I do it when I need to.
Windchime passed me but camped somewhere close – she had also found herself in the burn zone when she was ready to stop for the night. Though I’m not a golfer, the burn areas feel a little like I imagine a sand trap might. Once you’re in, it is never entirely clear when you might be out.
I fell asleep fairly quickly, it having been a long day and there having been a fair number of blowdowns left by the fire. It was tiring hopping and climbing over those. I was grateful to go to sleep dry and to have found a nice place to crash for the night.
Day 105 – The Last Map
Day miles: 25
Trip miles: 2143.1
Today was pretty tiring. It was full of ups and downs, including climbing up to and crossing multiple passes. I crossed Pintler Pass and Rainbow Pass. By the end, I didn’t have enough energy to also climb Rainbow Mountain after its namesake pass.
I had entered the Anaconda-Pintler Wilderness. Interestingly, at times the scenery looked a bit like the Winds again. Some of the peaks gleamed white against the green trees at their base. But where the Winds stood like royalty, the Pintlers carried a more subtle charm. It was almost as if they were thinking “You’ll come around.” I say this because not every view was stunning, but the more captivating vistas made me wonder – what else was out there?
At some point during the afternoon, I found myself walking beside a creek, where I promptly spooked a black bear that had likely been eating berries nearby. The poor thing jumped right into the creek and ran out the other side. I didn’t realize it yet, but I was left with the spoils.
I walked a little ways until I had to cross a smaller stream flowing into the larger creek. I realized I was surrounded by blueberry bushes, full of fat, juicy berries. I suppose it is possible that they were huckleberries as those are most prevalent, but the leaves on these berry bushes looked more like the blueberry variety. Either way, they were delicious.
The trail was lined with them, so I moved along slowly, eating berry after berry. I ate until my hands were stained purple and I realized that I needed to get going if I was going to make any progress towards eventually arriving at the Canadian border.
Just as I hit my target destination for the day, a sharp rumble erupted from the sky. Dark, ominous clouds looked overhead, having suddenly appeared from the other side of the mountain. I set up my tent as quickly as possible and dove inside just as the rain started to pour down. That was a close one, but I would at least go to bed dry tonight!
I inflated my sleeping pad inside my tent while it rained and realized that several of the internal baffles had ruptured. This meant that instead of the air being held in neat rectangular compartments across the length of the pad, the separating wall of several of those segments had burst. This caused a giant bulge in my sleeping pad. On top of this, the pad was already starting to deflate overnight by way of the valve. I had only just purchased it in Salida, so I wasn’t sure why. It was fine for now and I could make do. I hoped though that this pad would hold on with me until the end.
The most exciting event of the day was a milestone indeed. I switched to my last map set on FarOut. FarOut breaks the CDT up into 5 map sets. Switching to the last one felt momentous. There was no denying it now; I was in the home stretch.
Day 106 – The Mega Storm
Day miles: 22.9
Trip miles: 2166
The morning light hinted at a nice day, I thought as I packed up in my spot by the creek. It was a nice camp spot, but I hadn’t been able to fully appreciate it with yesterday’s storm. When the wind and rain kick up, it’s a mad dash just to get the tent erected and dive into it. One of the nice things about a single wall tent when setting up in the rain is the lack of a rain fly. If your tent has a rain fly, the top of the inside of the tent is usually just mesh. It can be hard to set the rain fly up first, but if you set the base up first, it gets wet inside until you have the rain fly setup over it. The single wall tent is just one piece, so the inside stays dry. Of course, there is the later issue of greater condensation…. There’s no real silver bullet when it comes to tents and moisture performance.
My first hiking task today was to climb up and over Rainbow Mountain. I didn’t see any rainbows or rock stratification, but it probably bears that name for a reason. I had climbed Rainbow Pass yesterday with similar finding and thought. The climb wasn’t too bad, but I was also doing it on fresh legs. “Fresh” definitely doesn’t mean what it did 3 months ago!
My body, over all, is in good shape. I don’t know how much weight I’ve lost, but high-fat, high-calorie eating during town stops has been working to prevent me from losing more. It’s probably not the healthiest cycle, and no doubt will make for a challenging post-trail adjustment, but it’s what I need to do during the hike.
My legs are fine, though they feel tired sometimes. This is to be expected. My feet are doing surprisingly well. I don’t have blisters at this point. The only lingering issue there are some fissures that developed in the thick calluses on the balls of my feet and in the creases where my big toes meet my feet. This happened when I arrived in “Drydaho,” where it was noticeably more arid, even with afternoon showers. The cracks were painful until I put keuko tape over them, and then they were fine.
My callus cracks and toenails are accented with a black dirt that has a very goth look to it. That will probably take a few weeks of post-trail bathing to get out. The only real pain I have has been a lingering issue since New Mexico. I have something like a pinched nerve or sore spot behind my left shoulder blade. Interestingly, I started the trail with a pinched nerve in my right shoulder. That went away and was replaced by the current one, which has been traveling with me since. I’m used to it now, though it does bother me somewhat daily. I sometimes fidget with my pack weight and stretch it out while I walk.
So, all in all, despite my feet looking disgusting and feeling a bit numb sometimes, I’m in better shape than I was when I hiked the Appalachian Trail! I’ll pause and knock on wood now. It would be a shame to injure myself in the home stretch.
After Rainbow Mountain, I dropped down to the beautiful blue waters of Storm Lake. I sat and had lunch by the shore. It was a good place to dry my tent in the sun, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet with the backdrop of the Pintlers behind the lake. I was not crazy about the name of the lake though. If there is one thing from this hike that I will absolutely not miss, it is the storms. I look forward to no longer doing the “lightning dance,” no longer watching dark clouds over my shoulder wondering if I’ll be creamed by hail, or perhaps become a piece of human jerky left smoking in the trail. I won’t miss that.
After a lunch of peanut butter tacos, I headed up to a pass called Goat Flats. I didn’t see any mountain goats, but the view of, and from, the pass down to Twin Lakes was beautiful. Approaching the pass, the view was of the curvature of the mountain ledge that the trail followed to get to the pass. As I walked around it, I had a killer view of the valley below Goat Flats.
Crossing over the pass I descended into another valley. Sometimes these mountain ranges feel like mazes. They can be very open, but also very compartmentalized. After a series of steep switchbacks, I was almost to the bottom when I ran into a group of four older ladies hiking together. Their dog greeted me first, and then I stopped to chat with them for a bit. They were locals, just out for the day to climb up to Goat Flats. One of them was a librarian and asked me what audio book I was listening to (I had my headphones in when I first saw them and mentioned I was listening to a book). I told her it was “The Hobbit,” which met with her approval.
I carried on in my own quest while Bilbo Baggins fumbled through his in my ears. I passed by the twin lakes, which were, of course, beautiful. The trail wove through pine forest above their banks until it pulled away and turned into a kind of wide, relatively level, path.
It felt like I was walking on an old rail line, though I don’t believe I was as the pitch of the path felt too steep for trains in a few places. It eventually widened to a dirt road that would take me to the highway into Anaconda, which I would walk into town in the morning.
As I walked along, a four wheeler appeared in the distance with a large dog running out in front straight towards me. It was moving quickly, but for some reason I could tell that it was not aggressive. It ran straight up to me and began to sniff my shoes. An older man pulled up in the four wheeler and said, “She thinks that you are here just for her.” It did appear that way.
I chatted with the man for a little bit. He used to maintain the trails here as his job. He expressed disdain for the logging that was happening in the area, stating that they had made a mess of the forest and that there was responsible logging and irresponsible logging, and this was an example of the latter. I honestly wasn’t sure what he was talking about, though I did notice some equipment that could have been for logging farther up the road.
I made my way to the last possible campsite on the dirt road before the beginning of private property. It was a lovely little pull-off spot right beside a creek. I was there early, but it was a 12-mile road walk into town from here with no place to camp, so it made sense to stop for the day. There were also quite a few ominous-looking clouds building overhead, and a few stray drops of rain had begun to fall.
I quickly set up my tent and dove in right as the rain began to pick up pace. I was grateful for my good timing. I knew that the two hikers I had passed earlier, Atlas and Ducky, were probably going to share this spot with me. I hoped they weren’t getting soaked on their way in.
That storm didn’t last long, and after an hour Atlas showed up. 30 minutes later, Ducky rolled in, and I stepped outside to brush my teeth and say hello. We chatted for about 5 minutes, after which it started to rain again, this time with some intensity.
I dove back in my tent and the fireworks started. The rain got heavier, the thunder louder, and the lightning closer. We oohed and aahed as the lightning began to strike so close that it was shaking the ground beneath us. Fortunately our camp spot offered good cover, but it got really intense. It was definitely the worst lightning storm I have been experienced on this hike yet.
The storm carried into the night, and then into the morning. Lightning lit up the sky and thunder shook its mighty fist. I wondered if we would be blown to bits, crushed by a tree, or if the creek in front of me would flash and wash us all away. It was nice to have other hikers around on a night like this. Despite the severity of the storm, nothing could keep me awake. I eventually drifted off into dreamland, leaving whatever might happen in this world while I was sleeping far behind.
Day 107 -Anaconda
Day miles: 12.1
Trip miles: 2178.1
I woke up at 4AM and the lightning was still flashing, but the rain was stopping and soon the lightning did as well. I wanted to get a jump on the 12 mile road walk. I had a nice town breakfast on my mind.
I packed up in the dark with my headlamp. The world and the road were a soggy mess! It wouldn’t be light enough to see until 6:30, so I kept my headlamp on high and marched out, trying to avoid the puddles and squishy mud left by the storm.
I don’t particularly like hiking in the dark. It’s harder to see and I always feel like I’m just going to bump bellies with a grizzly bear. The reality is that I’m just as noticeable and loud to bears at night as during the day – perhaps more so. My headlamp is plenty bright enough for me to see, so I suppose it is more of a mental reluctance on my part. I had 12 miles to get to town, and starting early was the only way to get there by breakfast, so I hustled on.
Fortunately, the highway was fairly quiet in the wee hours of the morning. Cars could, of course, see my headlamp. I made sure to move off the shoulder when anyone was coming. As I got closer to town, I heard some dogs barking in the distance. Lucky for me they did not come out to investigate my marauding self.
I felt better once the sun came up. The light of day also allowed me to better inspect the sky. There were still some patchy clouds, but it was clearing up. The morning had been chilly. I hoped the size of that storm meant that it might not rain again for a while.
I shared the road with a herd of deer that decided to stop traffic. Two walked into a road, causing cars to halt. They bounced across and then a third followed. The fourth deer kept starting and stopping, and I could see the line of cars in both sides motioning and gesturing, as if to say “just GOOOOOOO!” It was like roadside entertainment for me.
I finally made it to town. Anaconda was the biggest Montana town I had seen yet. It looked more like a place where people live rather than just a wild west outpost. I stayed at Pintler’s Portal hostel, which was probably the most organized hostel for hikers I have ever seen. They had a huge lounge and kitchen area, tables to lay out and sort gear, lots of space and outlets for charging, and it was all very clean and modern.
Since I arrived early, no one was at the hostel. I saw Olive Oil there and chatted with her and another hiker, then left my pack there and went down the street to Donovan’s for breakfast. Anaconda seemed to have a large Irish population, as evidenced by the names on streets and businesses. I did not look into the history of that, but if I had to guess, I’d start with the mining and smelting history of the town.
I had a giant breakfast of corned beef hash with eggs. I washed it down with coffee and added a short stack of pancakes. The pancakes were as big as large plates! By the time I finished, I was stuffed.
I waddled back over to the hostel and got checked in. There weren’t that many hikers in town, so I ended up getting my own room for the price of one bunk. Atlas, Ducky, and Wind Chime showed up, but that was it. It was nice having a smaller crowd – I find it easier to talk with people and get to know them in those situations. When a lot of hikers are around, the conversation tends to bop around from person to person like a beach ball at a baseball game.
I did my usual town chores. I walked to the grocery to resupply. I finally found a good sunscreen again at the CVS there. I had been using a subpar Banana Boat one that I found in a hiker box a few towns back.
Back at the hostel I did laundry and ate a salad for lunch that I bought at the store. Of course, I had some snacks too. I remembered to pick up a box of shoes I had shipped myself. This would be my last pair! My current pair was falling apart. In fairness, they had 873 miles on them!
For dinner I had a few slices of pizza from a place down the street. That was it! It was a nice, relaxing town day for the most part.
It rained for about 30 minutes in the evening. I was grateful to be dry and warm and sleeping in a bed for a night. It felt good to be clean. The hostel had the best smelling soap! The scent didn’t stick to my armpits though. I may have to carve those off my body and grow new ones when this hike is done – they smell like the dead!
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