(June 28)
I packed up quickly to get on trail. Surprisingly, I slept well even though I was close to the highway. I drank a lot of water from the nearby creek, filled my 2 liter platypus, made damn sure the top was screwed on tight, and started climbing up to the ridge.
I love this section of the trail. Hiking up to one peak then down a ridge then up the next peak. With clear weather, there are sights in every direction. Most of the time it is open and exposed, but there are times when the trail goes through forests.
My leg was not getting better. I have developed this “life lesson from backpacking” which goes something like this. Some days you wake up with a pain. It feels awful and you are convinced there is something gravely wrong with you. You just hike through it for a day. So many times the pain just goes away. Rarely, like now, does the pain persist for more than a day. When it does persist, it warrants attention.
I kept turning around to see if the people who went to Lincoln were overtaking me. I did not see anyone. However, I did catch a moose that crossed the trail after I passed by.
It was hot and breezy up high. I thought originally I could complete a 12 mile section to water within 6 hours (7 to 1). However, I was slowing and it became clear I was not going to get there until 3:00. I had been nursing my water, taking drinks as rewards for reaching peaks. By 1:30 my urine stared getting darker and less productive. Although I have had heat exhaustion in the Arizona desert, I was experiencing dehydration for the first time. Fortunately, I still had some water left and immediately drank all of it.
I reached the highway pass (Flescher), reached the water source, downed 2 liters, and filled all my containers (4 liters total) for the next section. I was limping back up the highway to the pass from the water source when a work truck stopped in the middle of the highway and asked me if I was OK. A good rule of thumbthumb in life is that if somebody stops in the middle of a highway and asks you if you are OK, it means you do not look OK at all.
The lady asked me if I needed a ride in to Helena. I said I was just getting water and thought I might be ok. A car came up behind her and she had to move on. I had planned to hike the next section, hoping I could meet other hikers. Still, my leg was bothering me so much that my pace was continuing to slow. The lady turned her truck around and drove up to pass. I accepted her offer of a ride and I gave her my driver’s license so she could know who I was.
It was a tough decision. I had promised my wife I wouldn’t do anything stupid (well, beyond my normal range). I was getting slower, I was alone, the next section was about 60 miles which meant if things went real bad I would be even further from help.
This trail angel ended up taking me to the urgent care in Helena. She offered all kinds of support and was incredibly generous. I marvel at how good some people are. I tell my daughters to never pick up hitchhikers, especially ones that look like me.
The physician said my wounds were obviously infected and gave me a prescription. He was not as confident on the tendon issue and wanted me to see an orthopedic physician in the morning.
backpacking over the hill 