Day 14-15: Augusta

July 5-6; Mile 206-234

Day 14

The rain continued all night. I kept one of the four tent doors open to cut down on the claustrophobia. At 5:15 am my alarm ripped me out of a deep sleep, and I blinked blearily at the gloomy walls of my tent. 

I had a desultory breakfast of cold oatmeal next to the piles of horse poop, and then it was time to start walking. My shoes were wet, my jacket was wet, the air itself was moist. We walked through the dense woods as the sky above us started to lighten. 

The trail led away from the damp trees and into grassy fields with sweeping views of the surrounding mountains and the West fork of the Sun River. The water meandered in a sinuous path, every bit the picturesque fishing spot. 

As we neared Benchmark, the trail deteriorated into churned up tracts of muck, slick mud, and pools of stagnant orange-brown water. Piles of horse poop were everywhere, and we had to dodge off-trail a few times as horse trains plodded past. It was slow-going, and we probably added an extra mile from all the zigzagging around the mud pits and poop piles.

We passed several groups of backpackers heading out for the weekend before finally reaching the trailhead. And as I walked toward the privy there, I noticed thru-hiker backpacks piled in the truck out front. There were hikers in the car! And room for us to join – it was a magical hitching experience. Especially given that the drive was almost an hour and a half to reach Augusta. The downside was that my calves immediately seized into two knots of pain after dealing with all the slippery mud and then sitting folded up for so long. 

Our driver was the campground host at the RV park in town, a retired marine who had just moved to the area. When MRE meals came up, Handy asked him what his favorite had been. He paused, then said, “That’s like asking where I’d prefer to be shot.”

We had lunch with Meemaw and Dump Glove at The Outlaw, and I scarfed down a half pound burger in record time. Then we went to the park in town where we were allowed to set up our tents for the evening. Accommodations were free, although it meant no shower until our next stop in a few days. You get what you pay for. 

I got dinner at the Lazy B bar to take advantage of their free WiFi so that I could finally download my latest library book. Handy and Jessica joined, and then Sprinkles showed up with Tripod. And then Dad arrived that evening! The whole gang was in town at last. 

Day 15

The big challenge for today would be hitching back to trail. Dad was stuck in town waiting for a package at the post office, so four of us rode with Tripod partway up the road to Benchmark at 8:30 am. His trailer was parked at a pull-off camp spot, and the plan was to hitch the rest of the way from there. We picked up Jessica along the way, and then all five of us stood up whenever a car approached. Several stopped and told us they had no room, others flew by. Finally after 2 hours a red pickup slowed at the sight of our thumbs, stopped just past us, and backed up. We asked if they could take us to Benchmark, and then all five of us piled into the bed. It was a dusty, windy ride up the 25 miles of dirt road, but the sun was out and the views were far-reaching. At one point the truck slowed to a stop; we were still a few miles from Benchmark, and we looked around to see if cows were blocking the way. But instead we got to see a beautiful black bear with a light brown muzzle pause partway across the road before sauntering back into the trees. 

We arrived before noon at least, and then we were all walking down the dirt road to the Straight Creek trail. This was one of the Ley map alternates that would save a few miles and possibly avoid a bit of burn scar. The trail led through the final bit of The Bob before entering the Scapegoat Wilderness. We meandered with the creek before steadily climbing high above it. And then we were into the burn zone. 

At the intersection with the official CDT, we grabbed water and decided on a camping spot for the night. Even though it was technically a half day, we would still be hiking about 16 miles to reach a camping area outside the burn. I dumped water on my head, and we started hiking through the hot, shadeless stretch. “I feel like all of Montana burned,” Strix grumbled. 

One of the unexpected highlights was walking up to piles of horse poop, where a flurry of butterflies would take flight and flutter around us like wind-blown snow. We also came across a dusty grouse and her two grouselings (grouselets? grouse-babes?). Even in the burn scar, there was plenty to see. It helped that a cool breeze was blowing, and that some clouds had appeared to take off the sharp edge off the sun’s strength. 

My right calf began hurting again after 12 miles, and the left occasionally complained as well. I tried slowing down, limping a bit on my way to camp. Jessica was set up nearby with another hiker named Chris. We ate dinner all together halfway up the meadow beneath an upthrust rock like the prow of a great ship, and at dusk the sun broke through the cloud cover to bathe the rock in golden light. I hobbled back to my tent, trying to massage away the pain. Tomorrow we were supposed to do 20 miles with over 4000 feet of climbing. I was in for a brutal day.