So, there were four fires we knew about in The Bob and one in Glacier. We again had to reroute. We wouldn’t see the Southern Chinese Wall, the Wall on all the picture post cards. We were very disappointed.
The other rangers were out checking on fires and would soon wrap the cabin at Gates Park with the giant roll of foil I saw on the porch. We wouldn’t take prohibited trails. We didn't want any ranger to risk their life for us. We followed directions. Besides, there was a $5,000 fine for anyone caught on those closed trails. However, there was a route open to Benchmark from Gates Park. We were safe; we would just be finished with The Bob earlier than planned.
After enjoying our lunch, commiserating about the change in plans, and appreciating the technology of a sit-down outhouse, we headed out again. We were pleasantly surprised by a lovely valley with huge peaks around us everywhere we looked. It might not be the route anyone else would take for the CDT, but we found it beautiful, and we were also rewarded with four hawks circling overhead.
Fording Briggs Creek, we met two people with horses on the other side and set up camp south of theirs on an open bench. As we were almost through dinner, our horsey neighbors came by with wine and Jack Daniels and asked if we wanted some, so three of us had wine with dinner. How thoughtful and generous of our neighbors.
In the morning we continued down the Sun River Valley. The only untoward event of the day was Mark’s drinking hose popping loose; it dumped three litters of water in his pack. Mark and Pam dealt with that and caught up with everyone else when we stopped to see four deer bound away, another standing on the trail. Later in the afternoon, we saw two more deer.
It was a good day for large birds, too: four hawks, three ospreys and 4-5 grouse, one of which puffed up his throat feathers and spread his tail wide, either to show off or to keep us from his harem. Our horse packer passed us going in with a mule-train load of planks for the forest service.
As we ate lunch, a pack train of dudes passed us going somewhere. The lady wrangler seemed to think the trail was her own possession, and we should have had lunch farther away. We hadn’t known she was coming. Fording two rivers, Pam let me use her crocs, which Mark ferried back for her to use. So I kept my feet dry and Mark loved wading in the water both ways.
Reaching Bear Creek’s open area for camping, we found it occupied by a large dude operation with outhouse, cook tent, numerous guest tents and lots of horses, some of which followed us a short distance. We found our own campsite at the next creek. An owl hooted in the gathering dusk as we tucked into tents.
Morning was cold and frosty, condensation on the inside of the tents had turned to ice. Anything wet outside was frozen solid, as were Mark and Pam's water hoses. Mark and Pam shook out their tent leaving a good-sized pile of snow cone material behind. Walking back to the trail, we saw very nice bear tracks clearly imprinted in the trail dust, looking quite fresh.
On a hot trail with no shade, we were happy to see the sturdy pack bridge and ate lunch in its shade by the West Fork of the South Fork of the Sun River. And after lunch we went on to another pack bridge leaving The Bob Marshall Wilderness. At the trailhead, we found my car, which I’d left there 18 days before.
We crammed five people and five packs into my Honda Fit along with the cooler, bags, and boxes that were already there, and we headed to the campground to set up camp with picnic tables and restrooms available for our use. What luxuries. Rather tired and punch-drunk silly, we washed up, had dinner, and laughed a lot.
Our Bob Marshall hike had not gone exactly as planned. We had missed the South Chinese Wall. But neophytes were now experienced backpackers with wilderness adventure memories. We were also probably the last hikers that year to get through The Bob on anything resembling the actual CDT, very lucky considering the fires surrounding us.
The sun rose, an eerie shade of red-pink through smoky haze, and we crammed everyone back in the car for the 30-mile ride on a dirt road to Augusta. Stopping once, we talked to thru-hiker Mark Trail, who was trying to get to Augusta as his food drop hadn’t shown up at Benchmark. We could only have given him a ride if we had tied him to the roof. We did, however, give him my Bob Marshall Map with all possible trails on it to help him travel north.
Meeting Ryan's brother, Randy, in Augusta, we transferred three packs to his truck and all of us went to Mell's Cafe for traditional hamburgers and delicious ice cream, second only to Farson. Our group then split, with Mark, Pam, and Ryan headed to Missoula and thence to Washington, and RockStar and I headed to Great Falls and (we hoped) Glacier.
A protective plate under my car had jarred loose on those dirt roads. But the car was fixed in about ten minutes at the Honda dealership before we checked into the motel. Showers were wonderful. I was cleaned, shaved, lotioned, and my toenails clean, too. After dinner, clothes were washed and then we started getting all the bad fire news.
Highway 2 was closed both east and west of Marias Pass. Trails north of Two Medicine were all closed due to either the Thompson or Reynolds fires. Our planned lodging on Going to the Sun Road was closed. There was a fire between Goat Haunt and Waterton, Canada. A couple other trails were closed due to Bears. Poor bears, they had to go somewhere when their home was burning.
Our two support cars, driven by friends, were trying to get to East Glacier. David and Kathy were pulling a trailer and couldn’t drive over Going to the Sun Highway. Jo and Carol were coming over Going to the Sun Highway. Everyone was punting and changing plans due to fires. There was also a fire north of Lincoln. All those fires made me very unsettled. Where could we hike? Where could we meet our friends?
Glacier
We woke up to a lot of smoke in Great Falls, blue haze coloring everything, even within a city block. The daily paper said airport visibility was four miles instead of the usual 12-14, and air quality in most of Montana was unhealthy. Besides Montana, fires raged in Washington and Oregon. Before walking the CDT I never realized how badly the fires in the Cascades affected states to the east, smoke following the usual weather pattern west to east.
Since we were in Great Falls, we drove down River Drive to see two of the famous five falls and the Lewis and Clark Museum/Interpretive Center. The Interpretive Center was impressive, and we needed to stay longer to see it all. So RockStar wasn’t too happy with me when I said we had to go, but I had friends, who were trying to support me, and they wanted to know our plans in this smoky mess. We needed to figure out what to do.
Grabbing a bite to eat, we headed to East Glacier and Two Medicine. We saw a herd of buffalo on the way, and RockStar saw a cougar as I slept while she drove through bare rolling hills. The smoke grew worse as we approached the park. Two Medicine is nestled down between strikingly steep mountains, but we could barely make out the outlines of the mountains when we were right beside them. One trail from Logan Pass to Chief Mountain was open, but the smoke was awful and the ranger couldn’t say it was any better on that northern trail. I didn't think it wise to subject my old lungs to that much smoke, and we couldn't take cool pictures of mountains when we couldn’t see them.
The tourist business was tanked, only 2-3 cars in the Two Medicine parking lot, not the hopping place one would expect in Glacier National Park in August. Hiking in Glacier was scrubbed for the year. The smoke widespread, both CDT and PCT were cut off from Canada by fires in 2015. We were just grasping how lucky we had been to get through The Bob with all the fires starting or spreading behind and around us.
Driving to East Glacier we checked into our tiny cabin. I was glad it had a heater as a cold front with rain and more thunderstorms descended. I figured out a NOBO version of a four-day hike from MacDonald Pass to Stemple Pass, not knowing if air quality would allow the plan to be used that year, or if it was for the following year. We still didn’t know what we were going to do.
We woke up to brilliant blue skies, snow on the mountains, and ice on the car, smoke temporarily dissipated by the rain. Logistics extremely fluid, we got in touch with our two groups of su
pport friends. Each group had their own desires and needs, and I was wishing to please everyone and also meet my own goals.
We met Jo and Carol at Saint Mary. It was good to see them. We found out the Waterton trail was open, but there were no openings for required campsites, nor did I have my passport as Kathy was bringing it. But she and David had not able to reach East Glacier and had gone to Missoula instead. We had no assurance the smoke wouldn’t return to the currently clear sky.
After raiding the gift shop at Saint Mary, we all went to Browning to the Plains Indian Museum. We could at least play tourist. Although smoke was building again, I hoped to get two day hike sections done. Then we would head south to do a four-day section supported by Kathy and David. Flexibility and planning on the fly were the order of the day.
In the morning, Jo took us to Two Medicine, and RockStar, Carol, and I embarked on a 2,200-foot climb and descent back to East Glacier. Jo stayed with the car and Diogee (Jo’s dog) for a relaxing day. RockStar had a very hard time though I wasn’t sure why. A climb uphill is always hard, but even with well-graded trail, she struggled.
We had a beautiful day, towering peaks around Two Medicine were glorious now that we could see them. We could have done without the smoke coming down the valley though, which I am sure, didn’t help RockStar. A dozen bighorn sheep descended the opposite canyon wall as we climbed.
RockStar chose not to make the little side trip to the scenic point, though Carol and I did. We talked to the ranger and a couple day hikers before catching up with RockStar for lunch. After lunch, it was 99% downhill. We could see the rolling plains of Eastern Montana, at least we could see as far as the smoke let us.
The ranger told us to beware of bears as we got back to trees and make lots of noise, so I sang Girl Scout camp songs all the way back to town. It must have worked as we saw no bears. We did see a pretty goldfinch on the way to our cabin where we greeted Jo, had a change of shoes, water, a bathroom break, and went out for dinner.
Jo and Carol then packed up to go to their campsite, more sightseeing, and the trip home to Washington. I took a 15-mile day hike on the CDT, though RockStar wasn’t interested. I did whatever I could do, smoke or no smoke.
RockStar dropped me off at Marias Pass to walk back to East Glacier. A train was hiding the trail. Ducking under a coal loader car, I crossed the next set of tracks to look for the trail five minutes before a westbound train went by on the tracks I crossed.
Since I was solo, and the ranger had warned us about bears on this trail too, I made lots of noise, usually by singing. I saw no bears and only a little scat on the trail. In spite of all my noisemaking, I saw a couple ptarmigan. It wasn't a particularly hard trail, but 15 miles was 15 miles and a bit much for an old lady. My feet hurt by the end of the day.
North of Helena
Finished with what little could be done in Glacier, we packed up the car and headed south to Helena, hoping for less smoke, but finding just as much in Helena. The Helena paper had lots of dire warnings about air quality. We were probably getting smoker's lungs without smoking. We also read that Benchmark, where my car had been parked for 18 days, had been evacuated. I was quite thankful our timing had been good and I still had a car.
We slack packed from MacDonald Pass NOBO to Mullan Pass, supported by David and Kathy. Purple thistles were the roadside flowers up to the cell towers. There might have been a view, but not through the smoke haze of that day. After Priest Pass, a red-tail hawk signaled his annoyance with our passing as he flew overhead, the hawk and an extremely lethargic snake our wildlife for the day. Passing the ruins of an old log cabin, we walked by the remains of a decrepit train trestle.
Rounding a hill, we could see out to the plains in the east. A freight train, probably two miles long, very slowly chugged its way among lower hills to the valley heading to the Mullan Tunnel beneath us. We stood watching for a long time and heard it pass through the tunnel below our feet. Then we were buzzed by what looked like an Army helicopter. Mechanical transport of vastly differing speeds representing different eras of human invention were beneath our feet and over our heads, all shrouded by smoky haze as we used feet, the oldest form of human transportation on the trail.
A little farther on, we saw David and Kathy's white truck with our gear, food, and, importantly, our water. Kathy had already walked north a ways and brought us word of trees and a campsite in another mile. So they drove RockStar and gear to the trees, and I walked with a water bottle and poles, happy to walk an easy mile.
We set up camp, had dinner, and hung food bags on a long high branch of a convenient tree. Finishing our chores, we relaxed in our tents listening to the lonesome call of train whistles in the distance, probably another freight train headed to the tunnel.
In this section our plan called for short days under ten miles. As we traveled through ranchland, smoke cast a pall over everything. We chose the Dog Creek alternate for our route because it had water. It was not a particularly friendly route, and there were no-trespassing signs lining the road.
RockStar saw a couple white tail deer, and there were multitudes of cows. We got our water for the night and the next day and carried it half a mile uphill. At 2:30 it seemed too early to stop, even for lazy hikers like us, so we went around Round Top Mountain another mile and camped in a lodgepole pine forest. I hung the food bags by Mark's new method, perfect for lodgepole pines. We loafed at least an hour after setting up camp and doing camp chores. The sun had shone orange all day through the smoke, and we had seen a helicopter carrying a water bucket, but we were just two lazy hikers lounging in tents, waiting for darkness to fall.
In the morning we left our lodgepole pine forest for a mostly uneventful road walk. I saw one small bear print. More importantly we found Dana Spring behind its wooden stockade fence, an important water source in this dry country. Taking off the cover I found the water level two to three feet down inside the corrugated metal pipe. We had to lower my extra platy (Platypus water bag) with an attached wide mouth lid hung on our food bag rope to reach the water. RockStar held a bandana to filter the floaties as I poured water into her container ready for stirring with the Steripen to treat it. After treating with the Steripen, she filled various bottles and platys while I fished for more water. It was a production that took a while, but the water was clear (minus floaties) and cold, a good water source even in that dry year.
Loaded with water for the rest of the day, the night and a long walk the following day, we headed up a rocky jeep trail, climbing 1,250 feet higher. With that much water in the heat of the day, it was hard work. RockStar had been afraid we wouldn’t find water and would die. I was afraid since we had found water and were so heavily loaded, I would die. I hated to carry large quantities of water.
We camped halfway between two saddles on not very choice real estate, but RockStar was too tired to go one step farther. I slid downhill all night. We were both surely tired of smoke. We had passed several useless view spots during the day from which we only saw the dim outline of smoky hills, and our campsite on the hill was no different. Tucked into our bags, we listened to the wind blow and the trees creak.
It sprinkled off and on during the night, not enough to leave anything wet in the morning, though the sprinkles did help clear a little of the smoke. As the day wore on, we had more sprinkles and ultimately thundershowers, bringing views as the air cleared.
The trail alternated between steep uphills and steep downhills. We didn’t make very good time, though we had more distance to cover. Grouse flushed from the side of the trail as we walked, and we kept putting up our umbrellas for sprinkles and taking them down when real rain didn’t materialize.
After lunch and more hiking up and down hills, the trail finally became easier. With additional showers, the views were nicer, too.
We were supposed to meet David and Kathy at 4:00 where the trail crossed a road. Concerned we would be late, I tried to text, unsuccessful in sending, but successfully receiving. Kathy was in the hos
pital. She’d fallen from her bike and broken her ribs, the second bad bike fall for her over the last couple years. I was so sorry to hear she’d done it again.
Looking through the trees, we saw their white truck pull away on our jeep road, and RockStar was broken-hearted to see it leave. Shortly, another truck came by, and we asked the two guys in it if they’d seen the white truck. They cheerfully volunteered to go after it and tell David where we were. Soon David was there in the truck collecting my pack and RockStar. I walked the last four miles to Stemple Pass with my poles and a bottle of water. My feet hurt, but I completed the miles.
We visited Kathy in the hospital. She had four broken ribs, two of them broken twice. Six breaks. She was hurting. It seemed likely that RockStar or I would drive her car back to Washington when I finished hiking. For now, she was in the hospital on oxygen and in my prayers.
South of Helena
The rest of the day was spent resting and planning the next four days of walking. I would walk solo. RockStar was through with walking, had been mentally through ever since The Bob, but she would be my support person. I discovered my computer had not transferred this section of trail to my GPS, but RockStar loaded the Guthook maps into my phone. (Guthook (trail name) created an app with maps of the whole CDT. Many hikers now use Guthook exclusively.)
Surprise. It was a lovely day. NO SMOKE. RockStar dropped me off at the pass under bright blue skies and gale force winds. Winds had blown away the smoke, but it was COLD. Pam had asked me in The Bob when we would wear rain gear since it was so hot, and we only put up our umbrellas. I told her, “when it gets cold.” This qualified as cold. I left the car at MacDonald Pass wearing my down jacket with rain gear of jacket and pants, gloves, head band, and two hoods. I needed it all.
Old Lady on the Trail- Triple Crown at 76 Page 42
