Day 108 – Escaping Anaconda
Day miles: 26.9
Trip miles: 2205
I could have slept forever in my quiet bunk. Having a whole bunk room to myself was pretty amazing. I slowly got myself ready to go and headed out to breakfast. The best part of this process was putting on a brand new pair of shoes! My feet were going to feel great today. I hoped this pair would get me to Canada.
My pack felt heavy with food. I decided to amble across and down the street to Cafe 406 bakery. I ordered their breakfast burrito, a cherry danish, and coffee. It was all delicious, but the cherry danish was probably the best danish I have ever had – real cherries, real baking. It tasted like something I might get in Europe. I shamelessly ordered another one and sat there for a while drinking coffee (the coffee was free!!).
As a result, I didn’t hike out of town until 11AM or so. The route out of town was on roads. The main street through town had some nice historic buildings, and Anaconda was surrounded by a pretty backdrop of mountains. I couldn’t help but notice the huge smokestack protruding in the background, a testament to the smelting activity that put Anaconda on the map. Mining and metals is an industry I don’t know much about, but there sure is a lot of it out here.
It was sunny and hot out, but I was just happy not to be dealing with any thunderstorms. I turned off the main road onto a less busy one and passed by an adult correctional facility. I wonder how much “correcting” really happens in prisons. Are people learning how to live better lives? Are they being equipped with skills to help them succeed and contribute to society when they are released? Sadly, probably not. So what’s the point? I thought about this as I walked by the prison. I was literally a walking contrast to their lives in there. A thru-hike is the epitome of freedom. Just behind those walls, people have no freedom other than the thoughts in their own minds. I would never survive in prison.
After I passed the prison, some concerning grinch clouds appeared in the sky. They got darker and darker, and I wondered if my deep thoughts on prison life had somehow opened up a black hole in the sky – the kind of place where dark thoughts come out of hiding before retreating into their secret lairs. Lightning flashed in the distance, and cold truth began to blow in as the temperature dropped. It was going to storm.
I stopped and put on my layers as the rain started to come down. I have a system for this. My rain jacket and rain skirt are always in the outside mesh pocket of my pack. I put those on. In the chest pocket of my rain jacket I carry a gallon freezer ziplock bag for my camera and external microphone, and a quart ziplock freezer bag with a moisture absorbing silica packet in it for my phone. With this system, I can quickly protect myself and my exposed electronics from precipitation.
I marched down the road as the thunder and lightning got closer, and the rain began to come down more heavily. Luckily, the storm was moving faster than I, and passed over quickly. It touched me with its tentacles, but I avoided its dark core. After a half hour of rain and lightning, it was over.
The sun came back out just as I walked by a state mental institution. Between the prison and the institution, I wondered if people thought perhaps I had climbed over a wall. I was, after all, walking with a garbage bag around my waist. At the very least, the average person driving by probably thought I was mad or homeless. That’s ok with me. One of the hidden rewards of thru-hiking is the empathy that can be gained when I suddenly find myself being mistaken for someone less fortunate. Whether people are whispering about me, shooing me away from their businesses, or rolling up their windows when I am nearby, it’s a path to empathy and gratitude that isn’t present in normal life.
I finally worked my way under the interstate and onto farming roads. Those turned into dirt roads through both private and public land. By the end of the day, I had reconnected with the CDT.
I met a French hiker named Axel when I stopped to get water from a stream. He later passed me by when I stopped to talk with Atlas, who was just ahead where the alternate rejoined the CDT. I walked until about 8PM and find a one-seater spot just off the trail.
It had been a good day, and I had made more miles than expected given my late start. I was grateful that the weather had cleared up and I had escaped the bulk of the storm. I was well on my way to Helena, but in that moment, all I could think about was eating and going to sleep. So that’s what I did.
Day 109 – Winter is Coming
Day miles: 28.7
Trip miles: 2233.7
I woke up to a chilly morning. It was breezy as I started hiking in the early light. My goal today was simple – to get as close to McDonald Pass, my access point to Helena, as possible.
I crossed over Champion Pass in the morning, which felt a little like a qualification for the named peaks that I skirted throughout the day. I passed by Blizzard Hill, Electric Peak, and Thunderbolt Mountain during the day. I was very happy that none of the weather events described in the names of these features occurred while I was hiking through.
I stopped mid-morning to dry out my tent, which was damp with condensation from the night before. It really felt like fall, and I decided to make a coffee while I waited. I was also tired. A cup of coffee would be a nice pick me up. The way the light looked, the breeze, and the cooler temperatures clearly told me one thing – winter was on its way. I needed to get to Canada before I was plowing through the snow to make it to the border.
Most of the day was a series of elevation gain and loss in wooded areas, with few unobstructed views. By the time I finished hiking, it was getting even colder. I camped for the night in a pine forest. I could tell it was going to be a chilly night. My sleeping pad had been slowly deflating at night. I was not sure where the leak was, but I knew I would wake up with areas of my body touching the ground in the morning. This would become an annoyance if the weather really was changing for the colder. That said, it was tolerable for now.
As I settled in, I heard two hikers pass by. Only one voice was audible – a female voice. Perhaps it was Ducky, having caught up with Atlas. This was unlikely though. Such is the simplicity of hiking – wondering who passes by and whom one might run into the next day. I didn’t wonder long. Unable to stay awake, I fell asleep as soon as I lay down for the evening.
Day 110 – Helena on Fire
Day miles: 18.3
Trip miles: 2252
I tried to get going early this morning, but the cold made it hard. I wore my puffy jacket, rain jacket for extra warmth, and gloves. Just after first light, I was moving.
I had more ground to cover than I would have liked to get into town. If I had planned differently, I could have skipped Helena. Two days away from McDonald Pass (the Helena access point) was an on-trail outfitter called “Dave’s” that offered resupply options, and a day after that was the town of Lincoln. But, I knew I could do a Darn Tough stock exchange in Helena, and I kind of wanted to see what the capital of Montana looked like.
Darn Tough is the most common brand of socks that thru-hikers wear. They are wool, durable, and they offer a lifetime warranty, so when they wear out, a new pair is free. Many outfitters will facilitate the exchange of worn out socks. This is very convenient for thru-hikers. We would otherwise need to mail them to Darn Tough in Vermont and wait for a code to order free socks online. One of my two pairs of socks had large holes in both feet, so Helena was a great opportunity to rectify this. I knew from other hikers’ comments in my map app, FarOut, that one of the outfitters there handled exchanges, so there was no need to call to confirm.
I hiked fast. Before long, I removed my gloves because my hands became too hot. I made it from the trail to a connecting dirt road that would lead me to McDonald pass. As I started a climb upwards, I saw an adventure van (a van clearly built out for living inside) with a sign in front of it that said “trail magic.” I stopped and stared, but didn’t see anyone. Trail magic? Here?
Trail magic is pretty rare, and new to the CDT as more people begin to hike the trail. But, sure enough, a young guy hopped out of the van and said, “Hi, want some pancakes?” He had started the CDT as a thru-hike, but decided he would rather hike parts of it and then do some trail magic along the way. “I also have oranges,” he said. He had been sitting inside his van because it was so chilly out.
I did want pancakes, but I was also really anxious to get to town and I still had some miles to make. 18 miles is a lot to do in a morning to get in town in time to eat, run errands, etc. I accepted an orange instead, just as Axel hiked up. He sat down for pancakes.
Getting trail magic on the CDT always comes as a complete surprise. I bit down into an orange slice and the sweet juice burst into my mouth. It was delightful, and seemed to fill me with energy. Not long after that, I ran into a cooler full of sodas left out for hikers! Back-to-back trail magic?! I chugged a generic cherry coke-like drink and hiked on, now completely sugared and caffeinated.
When I arrived at McDonald Pass, it was windy and I stopped to chat with a group of mountain bikers about to head out on a ride. They gave me some restaurant recommendations, and tried to call back their friend who had just dropped them off to give me a ride into town. She, however, had already left. It was nice of them to try though!
A van parked in the lot at the pass had a sign on it that said “CDT trail magic.” Again?! This was almost unbelievable. I walked over and a guy opened the door. He asked if I wanted him to make me some coffee. It was again a situation where I did, but I was anxious to get into town. Instead, I just chatted with him for a few minutes and moved on to get down to the road to hitch a ride. I never know if this process will take 10 minutes or several hours.
The cold wind whipped around me as I walked down the winding dirt road to the highway that cuts through McDonald Pass to Helena. I fastened a friendly grin and flashed my thumb to a few cars coming down the road to the highway, but no luck.
Once I got down to the road, I tucked away my trekking poles and made myself as “hitchhiker attractive” as I could, then set about extending my thumb to every car speeding by. If you want to catch a ride off a highway, people have to be able to see you, have time to make a one or two second(s) decision whether or not to stop, have a place to pull over, and have enough time to stop in said place. I therefore always consider these factors in where I stand. In addition, the ideal hitching place is an intersection that captures traffic pulling into the main road. This increases volume, and therefore odds, and also provides some traffic that must stop beside you before pulling into the main road – an excellent opportunity to flash a smile and a situation where it is more difficult for people to ignore you.
A man and his young daughter pulled up to the main highway on the dirt road beside me. They slowed and looked at me, but drove onto the highway and sped away. In a few minutes, however, a car pulled into the dirt road from the highway, and it was them again. The man offered me a ride into Helena. I don’t know why they came back. I assume they had a short discussion about it, or the man just needed to decide if it was a good idea. I totally understand. Picking up a hitchhiker is an automatic “no” for most, but add in the fact that he had a small child with him and I was truly surprised they came back. I started thanking him profusely and wondered if he could tell how lucky I felt.
The two were on vacation and headed into Helena. I explained what I was doing so they would perhaps feel better about their choice to give me a ride. It was a fun lift into town, and the gentleman even asked if I was blogging or doing any social media. I too think it would be cool to give someone a ride and then be able to see them finish a journey I had a role in.
They were kind enough to drop me right at the outfitter in town, which was amazing. Helena is fairly compact, so from there I could walk everywhere I needed to go. Despite being Montana’s capital, Helena is still a smaller town than Billings, Missoula, or Bozeman. I thanked my saviors again and hopped out of the car to exchange some socks.
The sock exchange only took a few minutes. It was time to eat! As I walked outside to head to a restaurant one of the mountain bikers had mentioned, I noticed that the air was full of smoke. This is not uncommon. Winds out here often blow smoke in from fires that aren’t even close. I dismissed it and went to lunch.
Lunch was just okay. I was happy to have town food, but it wasn’t anything to shout about. I saw two British hikers I hadn’t seen since Encampment, WY – Pirate and a guy whose name I can’t remember. They were on their way out as I sat down to eat.
I had made a reservation at Budget Inn on my way to the pass in the morning – I was fortunate to have a cell phone signal. After lunch I made my way there through the walkable and charming little downtown corridor. Of course, I had to stop for ice cream along the way.
When I got to the Budget Inn, I realized why it was on the cheaper side of the accommodations. There was a homeless shelter across the street and a lot of people wandering around, either high, with mental health issues, or both. The motel had fairly high security at the office and I had to knock to be let in. It looked like the kind of place where people lived just before ending up on the street, and where drug dealers and pimps preyed on the destitute to sell their goods and services. One could imagine looking under the bed and finding needles, or a body. Aside from all of this, it was perfect!
The motel had laundry and was a mile walk from the grocery store, which was all I needed. I threw down my pack and started the walk past a small park where a number of homeless people were hanging out. It was sad, but I couldn’t help but notice what a small scale it was compared with what I have seen in other cities. Still, Helena was small and seemed like the kind of place where homelessness shouldn’t exist. But here it was, concentrated and on display in just a very small area of town. As I walked past, a man flew across the street shouting to himself, clearly in his own head. Some people on the other side appeared to be angry with him. I kept going.
I climbed a hill and was very quickly in a nice neighborhood. As I walked, I noticed people standing in their lawns and pointing, so I looked over towards Helena Peak, which is right on the edge of town. It was on fire!
I hadn’t realized that the smoke was coming from a fire in town. It looked small, but helicopters were actively swooping into to dump water on the flames. It was a sight to see indeed. I should have taken a picture, but did not.
When I arrived at the Safeway grocery, I set about the usual hiker resupply routine – buy food for the next leg and buy snacks for in town. A man approached me near the produce and asked if I was a CDT hiker. I jokingly asked “do I smell that bad?” I didn’t have my pack with me, but I had not yet showered and stood out like a sore thumb. He introduced himself as Mark and asked if I needed anything, and we got to chatting. I bumped into him again a few aisles later and he offered me a ride back to the pass in the morning. I didn’t want to put him out, so at first I thanked him but said I had planned to hitch. He replied that he had the time to do it, so I took his number and promised to follow up with him later in the day. It was such a kind gesture – Helena was really starting to be an almost too good to be true trail stop!
I bought a bag of chopped salad for dinner, as well as some microwave pizzas, then made my way back to the motel. I could have skipped laundry, but I had sweated a lot since Anaconda, so I decided to go ahead and use the facilities.
I purchased soap from the front desk and dropped a load in the washer. Although a key was required to enter the laundry room, I decided it was best if I stay there to assure that my clothes did not hike somewhere without me. I was donned in my wind pants and rain jacket, and since the former are somewhat less than opaque, I pulled my rain jacket down as low as possible around my waist.
I met a hiker named Woodpecker, who came in to do laundry as well. She and her boyfriend G-String were the two who had passed by my tent the night before – mystery solved! We chatted for a bit, and when my laundry was done I headed back to my room to shower and get organized.
I ate my salad and pizza and did some mileage planning. I was less than 400 miles from the end! I also messaged Mark and confirmed a ride to the pass the next morning – amazing! It was so nice to know I wouldn’t have to hitch hike tomorrow.
I ended the day so grateful that I had stopped in Helena. The people here (visitors and locals!) had made it so easy and really left me with a great feeling about the town. I hoped the fire was under control by now and that no one’s home was at risk. I fell asleep quickly again, which seems to be a theme lately. Tomorrow I would eat breakfast and then once again be on my way north.
Day 111 – The Water Standoff
Day miles: 25.4
Trip miles: 2277.4
I was excited for breakfast this morning and didn’t waste any time getting there. I saw deer in one of the yards as I walked back in the direction of Safeway to get to Steve’s Cafe. I would eat there and then Mark was picking me up in the parking lot at 9.
Steve’s was a diner-style cafe, which I love. I sat at the bar and ordered a breakfast burrito and coffee. I listened to the staff chat with locals while I downed my meal. It was delightful!
As I finished up, Mark walked in and sat down next to me. He ordered toast and apple juice and we chatted a bit. It was nice getting to know him just a little bit before the ride. It also made me feel good to be able to pick up his meager breakfast tab since he was going out of his way to give me a lift.
On our way to the pass, Mark told me that the fire on Helena Peak had been contained. We had a view of the scorched patch on the mountain as we drove out of town. We talked about hiking and Helena and nearby towns as trail towns. We also talked about taking time off work to pursue dreams and the challenges that come along with that. Mark worked in land conservation, so he had a very interesting and wonderful connection to hiking by way of being a part of protecting land for public recreational use, and generally helping to keep it all from just being exploited economically.
When I told some non-hikers about Mark offering me a ride, the general comments went as follows. “Wait, so a random, middle aged white male approached you in a grocery store. He was charming and looked like your typical nice guy. He mentioned his family and offered to go out of his way during a work morning just to be nice and give you a ride to the pass. What could go wrong??” Of course the last question was sarcastic, implying that I was basically serial killer bait. But I didn’t listen, because I knew better. I was living in reality where most people are good, and they were stuck in the world of fear, where the 0.00000001% chance of the most horrible possible scenario happening is all people talk about.
People say things like “hitchhiking is dangerous.” Ok – prove it. Show me the data that indicates what percent of people who hitchhike get murdered or disappear. Of course, those people have no hard facts. Americans just love to cite things as dangerous without any real substance behind the claim. I’m guilty of this too!! I do it all the time. Hiking and traveling remind me that this is absolute rubbish.
Sure, I could worry that Mark had other intentions, but I knew that he was just s guy being nice out of the goodness of his heart. I had to know that. First of all, who wants to kidnap and chop up a middle-aged man. I’m like expired bait. There’s nothing attractive about that, especially in my dirty hiker state. Second, if I reject peoples’ kindness out of suspicion, then I am undeserving of their opening themselves up to me. To be worthy of receiving it, I have to ignore the silly and false hang ups I might normally have. I wasn’t concerned about riding with Mark, but it was useful to hear other people joke that I was potentially putting myself at risk. It was a reminder that hiking helps me to tear back down any walls I have constructed since my last adventure. It reminds me to trust again.
Mark ended up being one of the coolest people I had met to date. I was still awed by his kindness when he drove away, leaving me to start my day at the pass. His kids are going to grow up to be wonderful people if they take after him, and we desperately need a next generation of wonderful people, lest this country just turn into a bunch of scared, xenophobic, dangerously close-minded individuals.
I set out up the dirt road away from the pass with a spring in my step. These roads become free public ski runs in the winter, some of the only free, maintained skiing areas left. I hiked all the way to the top of the mountain, which was covered with radio and cell towers, and then began a walk along the ridge.
I was entering a long section of ridge walking on the divide where water would be more scarce for a few days. There was allegedly a water cache at a road crossing ahead, but when I got there I did not see it. As a result, I hiked off trail about a quarter mile to get to a piped spring. It was flowing strongly and was wonderfully cool. I sat there and had a snack break. Piped springs (when someone has literally stuck a pipe in the ground to catch spring water so that it can be easily collected as it flows out of the pipe) are the best! This one was piped into large tub for livestock to drink out of, though no cows were around at the moment.
Rather than backtracking to the trail, I headed down a cow path and then cut cross-country in the direction of another dirt road that would lead back to the CDT. It was a more efficient way to get back on track. All of that town food hit me though and I had to make a quick dash off the road and dig a hole back up in the trees. My small hiker stomach just passes food through like a snake now….
Back on the trail I passed by two hikers, Nature and Mr. Fabulous. I had met them previously. I asked them if they saw a water cache back at the road, and they said yes. Apparently it was huge! I just have gotten a little off trail and therefore missed it. Sometimes the CDT isn’t much of a trail at all, and so it is easy to stray from it and not realize it. Oh well – I enjoyed my little break at the spring in the shade. I was now back in the sun again, and it was beating down fiercely.
I spent the rest of the afternoon climbing and walking on ridges that were progressively less forested with expansive views of rolling mountains in the background. There were a lot of cows around grazing. At the end of the day I needed to get more water from a spring before hiking on to camp for the night. I made my way down to a group of cows that were near the pipe, which had a slow trickle going into the trough.
When I arrived at the water source, the water was flowing out so slowest that the trough only had a shallow pool at the bottom. A female cow was literally sucking water off the bottom of the tank. She was making loud slurping, suction noises while doing so. Her calf, not yet tall enough to reach its head to the bottom of the trough, was instead kicking at the mouth of the pipe catching water as it flowed out. Another calf was lying down nearby.
I approached slowly. The mother was mean mugging me a bit, protective of her calf and probably also of the water. I needed that water source though, and while I didn’t want to chase them away, I couldn’t wait forever. I gradually inched closer and closer, until I was standing next to the tank and the mom and calf were right next to me. They kept looking up at me, but eventually were comfortable enough with my presence. My slow and calm movements had worked, however, I was now just starting at two cows slurping. I needed the calf to move so that I could hold my water bottle up to the pipe and catch the slow stream of water coming out. I figured it would take about 5 minutes to fill each of my bottles, as the flow rate was quite slow.
I waited and waited, but realized they were not going to stop any time soon. I decided I needed to make a gradual, but definitive move towards the calf so that it would hopefully move away. It worked! I moved in and the calf retreated to the other side of the tank by its mother. The calf alone was big enough to trample me, but cows are generally fearful of humans. The mother cow gave me the stink eye, but then continued to slurp at the bottom of the tank while I filled my bottles from the pipe.
The calf became impatient, shifting a bit and looking at me as if to say “seriously????”, but it stayed away. As I finished filling my second bottle, another cow was approaching the tank. I felt a little sorry for them as there wasn’t much water for them to work with. Oh well – such is life as a cow out here I guess….
I hiked on past a camping spot that was fairly flat. There were more cows in that area and I don’t like camping by cattle. This sent me into another climb, and it took me until almost dark to find a spot flat enough to set up my tent. I did find a nice little area though, and repeated my nightly ritual of eating and falling asleep rapidly thereafter.
I was grateful for my town breakfast and for Mark’s incredible kindness today. I was also happy to have such good weather going over the relatively exposed ridges, and for the peaceful resolution of the short water standoff earlier today. I hoped the cows would find a better place to drink tomorrow.
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