Total Weekly Mileage: 267.7
CDT Mile: 358
Total Miles: 3,013.5
“Horseshit and Thunderstorms”
Now that the traveling, park permit, and resupplying were all behind me, it was time to crush some miles. I needed a big week to start chipping away at the lame 108 miles I had just done. From past years, I know a couple things about the Bob Marshall Wilderness:
- It’s flat cruiser for a lot of it, so my pace should be solid.
- It’s remote—cell service will be sparse, and food options are hard to come by.
I didn’t want to go into Augusta, which is a pain, so I was going to do the 192.5-mile carry straight to Roger’s Pass and head into Lincoln. So, into the Bob’s I went.
The following morning, I reached the spot where I blew out my shoulder—remembered the pain and the hike afterward to the rescue spot via helicopter. I took a quick video and moved on. I didn’t want to stick around; the memory of that terrible and disappointing day was something I wanted behind me. It’s hard to sum up what it’s taken for me to get back to this spot and to be back in position to break another record. Giving up was never an option. When you know something is worth it, whatever it is—don’t ever give up.
Into the Bob’s, I started running into horse-packing outfits. You know, the City Slicker trips on horseback. Hey, I like horses as much as the next person—not as much as my great Uncle Georgy O’ or my friend Thin Lisa—but I don’t normally mind them… except when I’m on trail. These hoofed devils tear up the trail and shit all over it. I had to be careful when getting my water and where I put down my gear. Not to mention the horse flies! These little bastards were buzzing around my head all day, plotting their attack. I must’ve killed a dozen that day. Sometimes I’d win, sometimes they would, but it was driving me mad.
Finally, they went away—because a massive thunder and lightning storm came through. Then the sun came out. Then another storm. It had been less than one week since I started the CDT, and I’d already been rained on more than during the entire PCT. The good thing is the rain helps prevent forest fires, and being rerouted because of those is such a pain in the tail.
My days were 40-plus through here. I hiked until 11 one night and, unable to find a site, just cowboy camped right on the trail—a 45.5-mile day. The next morning, I was moving by 4:50 a.m. I had 41.6 miles to make it to the road into Lincoln. The hitch into town can be tough—a double lane in the middle of nowhere. I knew if I wanted to get into town that night, I couldn’t be at the road any later than 8:30. Other than the 41.6-mile distance, I had over 9,000 feet of ascent and 8,700 feet of descent. Tough day. I was caught in one storm and outran another. Limiting my breaks and pushing hard, I was at Roger’s Pass at 8 p.m. on the dot. 192.5 miles in four and a half days. Might be my best, but I can’t remember.
It took 45 minutes to get a hitch. Luckily, a dude named Shane spun around and picked me up and dropped me off at the motel. Thanks Shane! I checked in and headed to the restaurant for dinner. They were closed. I went to the next one—also closed. And the third—closed as well. My only option was a dive bar/casino three blocks away. Other than a few drunk locals and a wall of one-armed bandits (slot machines), they only had their fryer going. Fine by me. Anything besides ramen, oatmeal, and peanut butter was fine by me.
I got the fried platter to go and took it back to the room. This meal of absolutely terrible things for you consisted of tater tots, fries, mini tacos, wings, onion rings, a mini burrito, mini corn dogs, and something resembling fried chicken gizzards. I was in heaven. The greasy pile hit me hard, and I died in the bed soon after—too exhausted to even take a shower. I know, such a hiker trash move.
It took me a hot minute to get back to the trail the next day. Another 45 minutes of hitching. Luckily, a retired forestry dude named Ernie picked me up. A big climb out of the pass—the trail was really enjoyable. No storms, but they were in the forecast the next day. This triple storm came through when I was completely exposed on a forest road. I still have some PTSD from the Yellowstone storm of ’21 (see GWL 2021 for that gem of a story). I badly wanted 270 miles for the week. Unfortunately, this storm forced me to ditch into the woods an hour early and wait it out. Settled for 267.
