Day 16-18: Up on the Ridge

July 7-9; Mile 234-270

Day 16

A deer trotted past our campsite as I was untying my bear bag the next morning. We had 20 miles to go in order to reach our planned campsite beside a lake – in a dry stretch of trail – and I was worried about my calves. They were no longer knots of pain after a good night’s sleep, but the day promised steep climbs in the afternoon with 4500’ of gain. My mind raced through my different options: take an extra zero in Lincoln, get a ride to Helena and skip the next section for a longer break, hike the next section at a lower mileage pace, even go home. I was supposed to be out here to have fun after all. 

We started hiking through young forest growing back from a very old burn. The trail crossed a few streams before paralleling the Dearborn River through a deep valley. The trail was in shade for almost two hours before finally the sun peeked over the ridgeline to our left. After hiking northbound on the PCT for months, I was frequently thrown off by the sun being on the opposite side. 

We climbed upward in bright sunshine, when I noticed a large print in the dirt. Sprinkles was behind me, and I pointed out the canine shape. “Is that a wolf?”

“I was just noticing wolf scat further back! It was on the edge of either being really big for a fox, but this looks like wolf.” We followed the fresh tracks along the trail, and she told me how wolves will walk in straight lines to conserve energy, while dog prints tend to wander all over. This was definitely going in a straight line. 

We crossed Dearborn River – I didn’t bother with the log balance exercise and just plunged straight in. Butterflies fluttered around the shore, and more biting flies lay in wait. This was our last break before the long climb ahead, and several of us soaked our shirts to combat the warm air. 

I started hiking up and quickly fell behind the group. My calves hurt, and I was trying to slow my pace to see if it would help. A few tears sprang up as I remembered falling behind several groups of people I had liked on the PCT. I didn’t want to be left behind again. 

We stopped for lunch near a little pool of water with a resident frog. I had limped my way up the previous three miles, and I lay down and dreaded the remaining climbs. Morale was low, and I mostly kept quiet and ate my food. 

We left around 2 pm, and I focused on engaging my larger muscle groups – glutes, hamstrings, quads – to try and give my calves a break. The trail climbed steeply, and suddenly we were above the tree line. Mountains spread out in every direction, some with crowns of forest, others with vestiges of snow near their tops, and still more rocky, lifeless peaks full of burn scars or completely bald. I strolled along the ridge line, soaking in the views, morale rising a bit. 

I descended back into burn scar, and the wind raced along the peaks and yanked at my hat. The breeze kept the temperature pleasant in the sunny, exposed section. It helped that we were close to 8000’ above sea level, too. 

I took my time climbing higher, pausing with Sprinkles and Strix in a nice patch of shade. A hiker we hadn’t met yet passed us, and we saw Chris from the night before winding his way up the switchbacks along the ridge. 

At last it was time to descend toward camp. The trail zigzagged back into the trees before intersecting with a path toward a sad little lake on its way toward seasonal extinction. But it was water! The next water wasn’t for another 12 miles. We crammed our tents in a Tetris configuration to fit and then ate dinner by the shore of the lake. Tomorrow we would be up on the ridge all day before heading down to the highway to Lincoln. 

Days 17-18

Sprinkles and I left camp early to take advantage of the cool morning air. The sunlight slanted across the trail in front of us, lighting up the flowers from behind and setting them ablaze. We slogged up the steep climb from camp, passing around the other shore of the little lake. When we paused for breakfast after an hour, she took out her binoculars and spotted four mountain goats sauntering along the ridge across a valley from us. 

The trail followed the ridgeline for miles, summiting little peaks and dropping back down to the saddles between. My calves were doing alright with my slower pace, and I basked in the breezes and sunshine. Views stretched out all around, and I felt like I was truly straddling the divide. 

Handy caught up after 6ish miles, and he and Sprinkles paused in some shade to discuss an alternate route she had mapped out. Meanwhile I plodded on, crossing over Red Mountain and through miles of burn scar. When Handy caught up again, he said that everyone had decided to take an alternate road walk at the next pass. I was surprised given the beautiful weather and sweeping views. Apparently the next few miles were going to be rough trail conditions. And then I slipped a few times on the descent toward Lewis and Clark Pass, as the trail turned from dirt to slippery dust mixed with golf ball-sized rocks. As we all convened at the pass and everyone said they were taking the road, I grudgingly went along with the group. But it was going to add 4 miles to our day. 

We started down the side trail, following a double track through grassland. There was a little stream flowing half a mile from the pass, and we loaded up on water for the next 12 miles. There were picnic tables at the trailhead, and not a car in sight. We ate lunch in the shade, and then it was time to start the road walk. 

Even going 3 mph I was quickly left behind. Going any faster irritated my calves, and so I put in my headphones and prepared to suffer for a few hours. The views of the valley were pretty for the first mile or so, but the sun was hot and the road was monotonous. I paused to stretch after 3 miles in a little patch of shade, and then passed Strix and Sprinkles a mile later where they had stopped for a break. 

Morale was sinking again, and I still had at least 7 miles of hot, dusty road to go. My hips pinged in protest, and I bent over to stretch. Suddenly a car appeared behind me with some familiar voices shouting from inside. Strix and Sprinkles had found a ride in the middle of nowhere! And even better: there was room for all of us. 

Becky, our driver, had just come out for a short hike at the pass and ended up driving us all into Lincoln. She recommended some places to eat and dropped us off at the Wheel Inn bar. We got drinks and appetizers, and Strix and I chatted with the older man next to us at the bar. We talked about hiking the trail, and he asked us about some of the areas we had seen so far. And then he quietly paid for all of us! I asked the bartender if he was a frequent visitor so we could write a little thank-you note or something, and she said she had never seen him before. The miserable road walk had turned into the best decision of the day. 

The rest of the evening was spent doing laundry and showers, and then Handy’s friend Anna – who we had all met near White Pass on the PCT – arrived and we all got dinner together. The next day was a much-needed zero, full of eating, relaxing, and town chores.