Day 16

Looking ahead at the map for today made my brain hurt. Lots of steep climbs, high temperatures over exposed terrain, 20+ miles, and a long water carry. But I knew I’d be ending the day at a yurt with a good friend, Dustin, who would be joining me on the CDT for the next few days.

I had heard Rockets alarm go off long before sunrise and as I made my way up the first steep climb, I chastised myself for not taking my advantage of the cooler morning air. Even with the sun just peaking over the mountain peaks, the temperature was quickly rising. Less than a quarter mile after leaving camp, I came to a saddle where Samurai was just waking up. The sun placed a golden frame around his tent, perfectly positioned to accept east and west views of the sun. Man, he must’ve had an awesome sunset view last night.

I pushed up the climbs determined to get as many covered before peak heat of the day. I passed Chew Toy and Super Noodz enjoying pictures and breakfast atop the second climb. I stopped briefly to chat and take in the gold and red colors of the waking sun. Now these open views of sweeping mountains were what I envisioned most of the CDT to be.

With each climb, I huffed and puffed my way up, counting my steps with my breaths to keep my heart rate and breathing rate even. But the climbs were steeper and longer than I could’ve imagined. I took short break frequently just to catch my breath and give my heart a chance to recover and understand we were not anywhere near the top.

The juxtaposition between the beauty and the difficulty was fascinating. While I caught my breath walking briskly along a part of the trail that thankfully skirted around a peak, I did a double take looking down into the valley below. I’d been walking along the side of the same mountain for a significant amount of time and yet had just barely noticed the turquoise blue lake cradled in the rocks below. “Oh, wow! How’d I miss that?!” I exclaimed to myself out loud. I made a point to look up more throughout the rest of the day.

As I engaged more with my surroundings, it turned into a game of trying to guess which peak the trail would head over next. In many cases I could see the thin line of the trail etched into the mountain ahead. In other few cases, I pointed at the largest mountain south or east of me and assumed that’s where I’d be next. I wasn’t often wrong.

8 miles into the day, I came across a small lake. Odd considering I was to believe there was no water for 12 miles from where we camped and I still had 4 heavy liters of water on my back. Later that afternoon when I stopped for lunch, I slapped my hand to my forehead realizing there was no water the 12 miles following the lake and that I’d not only carried extra water over the long, steep morning climbs, but also that I was now probably going to be running low on water long before the next source.

But I dawdled on. The only solution to get to the water and hope for the best. I hiked mostly alone until Burgs caught up to me while I ate lunch. I hiked a bit further with him and sat for a bit while he ate. But the little gnats were too much and their green slime grossed me out each time I slapped them against my shirt and face. So I departed early and hiked quickly through the wards of them. Soon after, I caught up to Rocket and we chatted for several miles about running and family and the trail. I really enjoyed her company. She is a good person and seemingly very smart and organized. I like those kinds of people. But mostly, I enjoyed having another woman to talk to who had a similar pace to mine.

But even we parted ways when she stopped for a snack and I pushed on to reach water. The final big climb was brutally hot. I pushed with my arms and legs to climb and was met with the sweetest relief when I counted the 7th and final switchback at the top. I promptly got lost before finding my way down the side of the mountain and to the trickling little water source with algae growing thickly in the puddle below. Welp, I trust my filter will get the job done.

I scooped water little bits at a time and then rested in the shade to fill my bottles and drink enough to feel I’d replenished some of the water I’d certainly sweat out over the last few miles I hiked without water. Then I stomped off. I only had a few miles left and I was so looking forward to seeing Dustin. I cranked my arms and legs as fast as they could go for those last few miles. With the yurt in sight from atop the last ridge line, a hurtful tease since it looked so close but was still 2 miles away, a new burning sensation arose in my feet.

I began to limp a little as the pain seared through both balls of my feet with each step. I leaned more heavily on my poles. The pain intensified as I descended to the yurt so I distracted myself with a call to my mom while I had a little cell service. I was met with the voices of my mother, aunt, and grandmother. Their trio of shrills and excitement spurred me on and kept my mind from feeling my feet. But when the call ended, my thoughts snapped right back.

I could see Dustin in the distance and again my mind was monetarily distracted. I picked up the pace and as I neared, he stood from a chair and met me a few yards away with arms wide open. I made it. I limped to the yurt and dropped my things at the door. I peeled off my shoes and socks slowly, apologizing for the stench as each layer was removed, until I exposed two bright red patches of skin on the bottoms of both feet. I’d developed hot spots.

There was not much to do in the moment and I was too exhausted and hungry to care. So I plopped onto my back atop the rocks and elevated my legs on the chair while I caught up with my friend. We chatted for a long time. It was nice to have someone from home sharing stories with me from home. I missed it. When my feet stopped throbbing, I hobbled into the yurt to claim a cot and began preparing dinner – a hearty ramen bomb with tuna to replenish all the calories expended during the day.

Dustin and I kept talking while I cooked and grew more acutely aware of how badly I smelled. I noticed salt lines forming on my shoulders and could only imagine the lines down my back. I again apologized for my stink to which Dustin graciously replied it was no bother. It was bothering me so I know he was probably being polite.

The yurt was two stories, had what appeared to be a bathroom area without plumbing, lots of gasoline and batteries, a small cooking area with a counter and small camp stove, left over building materials, and finally two cots. I guessed it was a hunting cabin when not being used by hikers. Or maybe a winter hide out. I flipped through the notebook on the table and read through the names of all the hikers I knew who’d just been at the yurt. I was excited to know so many hikers were nearby.

Eventually Rocket then Burgs trickled into the shelter. Then samurai and the brits – Jugular and Special Agent Sally. Rocket claimed the other cot while Dustin elected to sleep on the top floor and everyone else filled in the gaps of the floor space.

Just before bed time, I took my toothbrush to the metal tower situated on the opposite side of the hill overlooking the east valley. I brushed my teeth while the valley filled with golden light and let my legs dangle over the edge of the tiny wooden platform. I wondered what the tower would be used for and if it was still being built since it was basically a set of stairs up to a 4×4 wood platform and large metal cage without walking boards.

Despite the sun still high in the sky, I retired with everyone else to the yurt where the stifling air despite two open windows left me struggling to find sleep atop my sleeping bag. In my sleeplessness, I heard little scurrying feet and the noises of mice scurrying about throughout the yurt. I was thankful to be off the floor but worried about my food bag not too far away. Not wanting to disturb anyone awake, I hope for the mice to find something else to gnaw on and eventually caught a few hours of sleep before Rocket’s 4:30 alarm went off again and everyone else followed her into the early morning sunrise.

Day 17

Today was the epitome of thru hiking as a whole. By the end of the day, I joked with Dustin that he’d seen pretty much all the trail had to offer within his first day on the trail. The morning started off with a big climb up from the road that many other hikers used to hitch into Lincoln. We skipped the town in favor of putting out bigger miles to get to Helena. I apologized to Dustin in advance that this would not be an easy section of trail or an easy next few days. But he shrugged it off saying he’d do his best to keep up and that the last thing he wanted to do was slow me down. It was very kind of him to assure me he’d be fine on his own if that were necessary, but I assured him I would not leave him behind. And ultimately, he did a fine job keeping up with all of us. I had no doubts.

The morning started off beautiful and bright, but quickly became overcast. As we crossed an exposed ridge and then skirted to the west around a peak, strong winds blew me side to side and nearly over into the steep upslope of the mountain at my side. At least it was blowing us towards the mountain and not away, down the steep slope into the valley. We hiked up the tough climbs together resting and sharing snacks frequently. Even so, we’d covered 16 miles by 1 o’clock. Once Burgs reached us followed by John and Sally, what was going to be a short break turned into a 3 hour siesta.

The wind was warm and there was a bit of water and snacks in the bear box left over from previous trail magic. I allowed myself to indulge in a strawberry breakfast essential before laying my foam pad in the grass and promptly taking a light nap. The warmth of the sun enveloped me like a blanket and the only thing that woke me was the feeling of tiny ant feet crawling on my legs.

Eventually I moved into the shade and rested some more until Numbers, Rocket, and Weatherman all showed up having caught up from their stop over in Lincoln. They hung around to chat for a bit before heading up the trail for camp and that was just enough motivation to get up packing up to hike as well. (That and the dark clouds rolling in.) Within a few minutes of hiking, the sky darkened and soon enough, there was a low rumble of thunder off in the distance. As we crested the low ridge, we could see rain in the near distance and the rumbles of thunder increased in volume.

We picked up the pace as we headed directly towards the incoming storm. Lightening flashed across the sky causing a small panic to rise within me. We were shooting to reach a camping spot not too far away but it seemed as though we were losing the race with the storm to get there. It began to drizzle steadily and my internal voice both chastised myself for not leaving the for camp earlier and shouting repeatedly, (italics) where is the danger campsite. Eventually we began to pass some less than ideal sites, but the rain wasn’t picking up and I felt confident that we could make it all the way.

The rain spat just enough to soak through my backpack and clothing as we hiked quickly through an exposed area, the threat of lightening scaring me more than I’d care to admit to. Then finally, we were back in the trees and there it was, the most perfect campsite with flat spots and some tree cover. We each made quick work of setting up our tents – Dustin, Burgs, and I. We’d long since passed everyone else who had decided to throw up their tents before the rain began. I dove into my tent and checked all the corners of my tent to assure myself the rain wasn’t splashing in, before stripping off my wet clothes and settling in for warmth. However, as soon as we all got comfortable, only a few minutes went by before the rain stopped. And we all groaned simultaneously that our tents were not wet for nothing. It did not rain the rest of the night and we spent the evening talking to each other through our tents walls.

Day 18 was the day of the Alpaca farm, which I’ve already written about. You can read about it here. Essentially, the day was as wholesome as it was long and one of those special places that reminds you of the kindness of humans and to always pay it forward.

Day 19

It turned out that the road walking we’d done to reach the Alpaca farm was far from over. It seemed that despite there being a trail route to Helena, there were dirt roads that would get us there faster. Plan B, Dustin and I walked close together with Burgs falling behind as we took off in the morning. However, when we took a short break a few miles in and Burgs didn’t show up, we realized that we’d taken a wrong turn and had added back a mile of road walking to our route.

When we finally reached the next road junction, we saw arrows that Burgs had left us directing us back to him. Seeing John and Sally also confirmed we were once again headed in the right direction. We walked many dirt road miles until we caught up with Rocket, Numbers, and Weatherman. They had headed out from the Alpaca farm the night prior intending to hike several more miles closer to Helena, but described a wonderful trail magic incident where a kind local invites them to stay in his partially renovated cabin he was hoping to eventually complete for thru hikers.

They were all collecting water from a stream running beneath the road and we did the same once they moved on. While I waited for everyone else to filter, I took the opportunity to run up a dirt path for a cat hole break. I looked back towards the water source to make sure I could see anyone before digging. Half way through my “business” I looked up and across the field to see a car with a family camping not too far off in the distance. Well it was too late to stop what was happening but my body immediately burned with embarrassment. If I could see them so easily, then surely they could see me too and I was mortified that I’d just ruined a family weekend camping trip. I tried to think on the bright side that at least I hadn’t turned my backside towards them.

Eventually we found our way back onto a trail and spent a good portion of the afternoon debating on whether to camp at some towers a few miles from the trailhead or to go into town. As rain began to drizzle on us during the long ascents leading to the towers, it became more and more apparent that we’d be going into town. The trail followed along what appeared to be an old railroad before ascending to 3 false summits. The rain fell harder with each climb, abetting not long after we reached the true summit with the towers. We spent a few moments at the summit watching the rain clouds blow around us and move off into the valleys before taking the road down to where Dustin’s car awaited us.

Freighter had caught up to us and spread is infectious positive energy amongst us while we walked yet more dirt road. But he waited at the highway for Matcha and we hiked on a bit further. We ran across the highway and dragged our feet a little further before Dustin and I offered to go ahead to the car while Burgs and Plan B waited at the bottom of the hill. I still had energy, too much energy for a nearly 28 mile day and so Dustin and I dropped our packs and took off up the last road. As we neared the car, we both reached out for it and as our hand converged with the bumper, my watch chimed that we’d reached 28 miles. It was a big day by thru-hiking standards and a big way to end the trip for Dustin. He’d made it, we’d made it, and we were going into town!

Once everyone was packed up in the car, we headed to a pizza place immediately and all ordered our very own personal, large pizzas. Not too many slices were left over after that. In our food hang over, we headed to Walmart for a few evening snacks and then to a hotel to finally shower and put up our feet. Once in dry, warm clothes, we patiently waited for the fireworks to begin. A light knock on the door revealed Rocket, Numbers, and Weatherman who joined us as we forced ourselves awake to see the fireworks go off at 10:30. When they finally began to burst with color, the whole night sky was alight with the most colorful show. Surrounding neighborhoods near and far were blasting off big and little fireworks and we could see them for miles in all directions. It was a fantastic 4th of July.

Day 20

Our zero day in Helena was not as restful as I’d hoped it would be. But I knew it would be busy since Burgs, Plan B and I desperately needed to finalize our plans through the Big Sky alternate and Teton Crest alternate. I was the first one up and snuck off to the lobby for breakfast. I helped myself to a little bit of everything with emphasis on the chocolate waffles and whipped cream. Eventually the guys joined me at the table and we began to discuss our routes. Rocket, Weatherman, and Numbers joined too but were a bit of a distraction to the planning process. Weatherman was excitedly telling us about the wind river high route, but that section of trail was far from our minds. So when they asked for a ride to the trailhead, I joined Dustin in shuttling them where they needed to go.

When we returned back to the hotel, Plan B and Burgs had mostly figured out the route leaving us to only need to figure out how many days we’d resupply for between each town. But we decided to save that for another day and begin our town chores.

We went to DQ for a quick lunch stop where I savored a blizzard before my nuggets then headed to the post office. I had my roommate send my inflatable sleeping pad and other goodies because my foam pad just wasn’t cutting it on comfort. Next we resupplied for Butte and then finally landed at the local outfitter. As we perused, Burgs overheard someone in the store talking about a Garmin inReach, which was randomly found on a hiking trail not too far from town. Coincidentally, Plan B had lost his just before the Alpaca farm. In an odd turn of events, it was in fact his inReach.

It was a bit after noon when we walked around the corner towards a bar where we’d been invited to join John and Sally along with Freighter and Matcha. It was John’s birthday and he was kind enough to celebrate with us. We laughed and ate and drank for a while before everyone determined it was time to break off for more town chores. But before everyone left, I turned to John and asked what his favorite birthday was over the years. Without hesitation, he said it was this birthday. He had gotten to talk to his daughter and granddaughter over FaceTime that morning and with wetness building in his eyes, he said it was a wonderful way to start his birthday. I bit back tears.

We all parted ways for the remainder of the afternoon, but the 4 of us headed towards the movie theater. The new Jurassic Park movie had just come out and I’d been talking about wanting to see it ever since. And this zero day was the perfect day to see it. Unfortunately, we all left the theater disappointed. I had my many reasons for disliking the movie, but despite it containing nearly every classic Jurassic Park trope with a new set of actors, it was simply not good.

We wanted to lift our spirits with an all you can eat sushi buffet, but to our demise, we were two minutes late for the last call for sushi to be made in the kitchen. So we settled on some overly priced burgers and then headed back to our hotel. We stretched in the lobby and filled our backpacks with resupplies and went to bed early to rest up before more big days of hiking.

Day 21

It was sad to say goodbye to Dustin. I’d really enjoyed his company an he was turning out to be a fantastic thru-hiker. But alas he had to head home. But before doing so, he was kind enough to drive Plan B, Burgs, and I plus John and Sally later on to the fire reroute yellow line. He got us close to the dirt road we’d head up where we said our final goodbye. It was bittersweet having a small piece of home out on the trail and encouraging that when I’d eventually return home, there would be someone there who had experienced what I had been and would continue to be doing for the next several months. I knew I’d have someone to share stories with and excitement over the trail and he’d understand it as more than just stories and musings. It was hard to say goodbye, but I was thankful for all he’d done for us over the last few days.

As he drove off, we slowly wandered up the trail. Plan B and I soon bumped into Super Noodz and a friend of his who lived locally then passed them. When we heard a truck coming up behind us, we stuck out our thumbs half heartedly and the truck came to a stop. Burgs and Super Noodz were already in the bed and so we all rode up to the top of the mountain together.

I spent the afternoon listening to audiobooks and chatting with Plan B. When we finally got to camp, it was later in the evening and I was more tired than usual. The first day after a zero was always the hardest but I think part of it was some grief over Dustin having to leave. The three of us had dinner around a camp fire while swatting at mosquitos and then retired to our tents as the sun set.

JMT August 9th : Garnet Lake to Crater Creek

We set out early, moving quietly so as not to disturb the ladies camped on the ridge above us. The trail led us past the shimmering waters of Garnet Lake and alongside the peaceful shore of Rosalie Lake. Most of today’s hike was  downhill—a welcome relief after the ascent over Donahue Pass just yesterday.

A Geology Lesson at Devils Postpile

We left Garnet Lake early to beat the searing afternoon heat. Our plan only partially worked. By the time we left the forest and entered the exposed, open terrain, the heat was already intense.

The trail led us to Devils Postpile, where we came across a film crew interviewing an older geologist about the area’s distinctive columnar basalt formations. One of the basalt columns had been set up as a seat just out of the camera frame. We were drawn into the conversation and paused to listen for a few minutes before continuing on toward our destination—Red’s Meadow Resort.

Our first stop at Red’s Meadow was the store, where I grabbed an ice-cold Gatorade and guzzled it down. Then we headed to the takeout window of the restaurant. We each ordered a burger with fries and fresh fruit—I couldn’t resist adding a tall, thirst-quenching lemonade. After the meal, we picked up our resupply and sorted through our treasure trove of new food. As we packed everything into our now overflowing bear canisters, we chatted with other JMT hikers, swapping stories and enjoying the brief break from the trail.

Through the Burn Zone to Red Cones

With full bellies, we pushed on for another three miles, hiking through a burn zone and climbing a gentle peak near Red Cones. We made camp at Crater Creek, a small and secluded site tucked beside a quiet stream. The creek had just enough flow to soak our tired feet and rinse out some of our stinky trail clothes—a perfect end to a full day.

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Resupply 25 | Wisdom, MT to Anaconda, MT via Anaconda Cutoff

Day 98, 33.3 miles.

I don’t have much to say about the hiking today. I went up and down. I walked through forests and burned forests. I ate food, I got rained on. It was a very normal day. What I do want to say is this: 

On day 74, I said I told my parents I would be the first known woman to connect the CDT and GDT, and then I said on day 82 that documenting this hike while trying to put in big days is hard. Since then, I have gotten a lot of questions about my motivation. I wrote about this extensively in my Q&A and on The Trek before I started this hike, so I don’t feel I need to answer again. I just thought walking the whole divide as far as the trail allows seemed like a no brainer. You get to walk continuously through some of the most beautiful landscapes in two countries and you see the headwaters of every major river in the U.S. I was surprised that I could only find record of two men completing it, one in 2019 and one in 2021. There were no online guides on how to connect them, when to start it or what the conditions to expect or what kind of pace would be reasonable and necessary to complete it in one season. I didn’t set out to be the first woman, I just wanted to do this hike and I happen to be the first woman. And I hope that because I’ve documented this, that there will be a second, and a third, and a fifteenth, and a seventy-ninth. 

When I first heard of the calendar year triple crown, I was told that fewer people have done it than have been to the moon. And now this year alone there are four or five attempts ongoing, and three of them are border to border. One is Slide, one is Punisher, and one is Peg Leg, who will be the first woman. 

There is a Greek word I really like: atelic. It’s the opposite of telic: meaning, to do something for a goal, like bagging 27 peaks or getting a promotion at work or becoming the first woman. But to do something that is atelic means to do it for its own sake. To climb the mountain because you like climbing mountains. To do a good job because you take pride in your work. To hike because you like to hike. Telic outcomes are conditional. Atelic outcomes are unconditional. Honestly, I just like being outside. That’s why I started. That’s why I’m here. Some days are harder than others, but ultimately I have never questioned if this is anything but an atelic adventure. 

Recognition for its own sake, without personal integrity, is empty and meaningless. 

I once read somewhere of a Native elder putting feathers on a headdress. He was almost done, when he realized he had done it wrong. And he started taking it all apart. His grandson asked, “why would you redo it? No one will know.” And the grandfather said, “But I will.” That’s integrity.

Because you are the only person whose opinion about yourself matters. Everything else is temporary. 

Why am I here? Do you know that nursery rhyme? The bear went over the mountain, to see what he could see. That’s why.

Day 99, 28.1 miles.

Today I found my friend Mamacita from the PCT. Out of the first 40 people to make it through the Sierra in California’s highest recorded snow year, there were only seven women. We were two of the first seven women. I was beaming out of my ears, I was so overjoyed. All hiking friends are special but the friends you make on your first thru hike are extra precious. And I share a certain understanding with anyone else who also endured the suffering and experienced the beauty of the Sierra in that year when the snow stretched for 500 miles, like a kinship born of a trauma bond. 

I climbed up and down a lot today but after doing so much steep snow and loose off-trail talus and scree, I’m just grateful I have switchbacks and it’s all level, stable dirt. 

The most significant milestone from today is that I’ve made it into the final map on FarOut. The maps are downloaded state by state, but now I’m in the final North Montana map, which means the border of Canada is now visible on my screen. I can tap it and see exactly how many miles I have left on the CDT. The border is no longer abstract. It is in a way inevitable, so long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other in the right direction, moving patiently through each square of the quilted fabric of the landscape. When I’m out here, I can see so far. In daily life we are often in enclosed spaces. We don’t have a reason to look beyond the room we’re in. I can’t help thinking that what I’m doing now is probably how we’re meant to be, and how overstimulated and undernourished we must be in our normal lives. And I don’t mean nourishment in terms of food. I’m talking emotionally, spiritually. When I was looking for a way out of my depression last year, my doctor recommended doing another thru hike, because I was doing a poor job at doing all the basic things that keep us alive and well: eating, sleeping, moving, getting time outside. That’s all I do out here. That was how I ended up on the Colorado Trail last year, where my idea for this hike of the combined CDT and GDT was born. 

Day 100, 23 miles into Anaconda, 8.2 miles out. 31.2 miles total.

Well, it’s been 100 days. Two years ago on day 100 of my first thru hike, the Pacific Crest Trail, I had just reached the midpoint of the trail about 1300 miles in. I was still in California. Granted, that was a high snow year so we weren’t able to move fast, but now on day 100 of this hike, I’m already nearly 2400 miles in and I’m in my last state on the CDT. That would be the equivalent of me being at Stevens Pass in Washington at this point. Honestly, being on trail for 100 days doesn’t surprise me as much as doing videos and blogs for 100 days does. Never thought I’d have this much to say. I saw my fourth bear on trail today, but it was once again so scared of me that it ran away immediately before I even noticed it. I’m an apex predator and I strike fear into the hearts of bears. I did a long road walk into Anaconda along a highway where I saw four dead animals: a beaver, a skunk, a deer, and a dove. In town I got my resupply and met up with journalists from the Montana Standard. It was funny to have a photographer follow me around while I did my town chores and hung out at the hiker shed because I kind of think it’s all unremarkable. The reporter got me some snacks and even apologized for not finding the white chocolate flavor of Lenny and Larry’s cookies because deep in a blog post somewhere I briefly mentioned that’s the only one I like. I was impressed. In the evening I hiked out into a thunderstorm but since I was in town I at least got to add layers in a Pizza Hut restroom

Instead of out in the rain. I’m trying out latex gloves now since all my fabrics wet out eventually. Worked ok. I also got offered a backyard to camp in by one local and a ride from another but I had to decline because I had to do more miles and unfortunately this highway is part of the trail. I camped just off a pullout. 

xx

stitches

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