Day 39-41: Double Track

But first! August is the fundraising month for Washington Trails Association. If you have enjoyed reading about this journey, or if you feel that access to nature is important, I would be incredibly grateful if you would donate to WTA to help them maintain the trails in my home state. So much of this journey and my journey on the PCT would be impossible without the hard work of trail maintenance volunteers. https://give.wta.org/Stormy

July 30 – Aug 1; Mile 603-634

Day 39

Our plan was to hike from Anaconda to West Yellowstone – about 400 miles – with only one day off. Today was that zero day, and we spent much of it eating. 

The Oddfellow’s bakery – from which Strix and I had already sampled while trying to hitch to North Fork – was our first stop. Next door was a thrift store where Strix was looking for a “town outfit” – something to wear besides rain gear while doing laundry. As it turned out, the store had two cats up for adoption, and one of them was named Stormy! I of course had to visit. 

We had blearily tried buying groceries the night before after hiking 18 miles, and so today we filled in the missing pieces. My body was crying out for vegetables every time I made another dinner of macaroni or ramen, and I found some freeze-dried vegetables and black beans to mix into my lunches. 

For dinner we were treated to live music by a group of locals on guitars and banjos at Bertram’s Brewery. I even found time to stop by the post office and fulfill my civic duty of voting in the Seattle primary election – three cheers for the concept of mail-in voting and for Dov sending me my ballot via General Delivery!

Day 40

It would be ten days before we got to eat town food again; you better believe I was at the bakery again the next morning, filling myself with flaky pastries. 

We packed up five days worth of food into our backpacks and bagged another five days worth to give to Handy’s dad when he met us at the Junkyard Bistro in town. We drove back up to Bannock Pass and started hiking around 2 pm. The trail was a gentle uphill that had been recently regraded. We passed through a sea of yellowed grasses and sagebrush. 

Big clouds hovered around us, threatening rain. And then we came across a pile of bones and tried to decipher the animal they had once been – elk?

After a few miles we spotted the thin ribbon of green wending its way along the crease of the hill, our water source for the day. We went cross-country toward the water, and the fluttering of the aspen leaves sounded like a burbling creek as we neared. The water source was more of a trickle than a burble, and we had to find a good spot to fill up our bottles for the next 8 miles. 

Donning our heavy packs, we hiked upward as the sky behind us blurred into a sheet of dark blue. We reached a fence that wasn’t well marked, and so we continued along its perimeter toward the true divide. In the end we had to climb over barbed wire to rejoin the trail, but thankfully there was a spot that other hikers had obviously pushed down the wire already. 

There were some distant rumbles as we continued upward, and I was treated to a falcon flying at eye level just along the trail. At the treed area we found flat spots and set up our tents just as the rain began to fall. It was chilly above 9000’, a welcome change from the hot motel room in Salmon.  

Day 41

The air was cold as I packed up the next morning. The trail led up above the tree line and climbed past 10,000’ for the first time. I ate breakfast in a patch of sunshine at the junction to summit Elk Mountain, enjoying being up high without the imminent threat of a storm. The distant mountains were hazy, and the nearest range had a splash of gray across its face, like a painter had smudged their work. 

I descended from the open ridge into forest and had to do some cattle driving. Huge black angus cows turned their unblinking gaze on me before lurching away at my yells and clacking trekking poles. One set ran straight up the hill to avoid me, leaping over a downed tree in their haste. Except one cow didn’t quite clear it and frantically scrambled to haul its hind legs over the trunk. 

The trail transitioned back to jeep track for the rest of the day, which meant steep climbs and descents along the true divide. The tread was rocky and gutted, and walking along the divide meant water was scarce. One source was a piped spring feeding into a giant bathtub about a third of a mile off trail. 

Strix caught up after 10 miles just as the afternoon clouds were building. I was feeling nervous about stopping for lunch on the ridge, but as I paused near the trees at our planned spot, I decided against pushing on. There had been no rain and no signs of thunder yet, and at least I wasn’t alone. Lark caught up ten minutes later, yelling at the sky or the trail or his inner demons before he noticed us sitting near the trees. Apparently he had been shouting into the void all day, and Strix had heard him earlier and worried about a crazy person hiking in the woods. 

We hiked into the afternoon, descending at last away from the darkening sky and following the double track around the perimeter of a lake. The next water source was a pond the color of bile, and we all gave it a miss. 

The double track led away from the mountains and into rolling grassland before turning up toward Tex Creek. I was glad I was carrying enough water to get to the stream after it; Tex Creek stank of cows and was trampled and full of fresh shit. I hiked onward, worried about our allegedly great camping spot in less than a mile. A herd was grazing on the sagebrush, and a ripple of mooing passed through the crowd as I walked through. Blank faces turned to stare at me, while the younger calves trotted away toward their mothers. 

I found the flat spots in the trees beside a stream and began to set up my tent in the space between fresh cow patties. There was a massive jumble of scree just beyond our camp spot, and Strix wandered over after dinner in search of pika. Meanwhile we were treated to a chorus of sounds all evening long that I never knew cows could make.