July 28th.
It was stormy all night. On both sides of the ridge, thunderstorms were raining down on the valleys below. Up top, it got very windy. My Zpacks Altaplex tent did a pretty good job shedding the wind. The tent stake holding the one support pole came up around 11:00, so I fixed that and re-tightened everything. I did not sleep well because of the wind, but I was extremely grateful the lightning had stayed away and that my tent performed well.
I was groggy and broke camp a little slow. I saw the last of the others going over the first ridge. I knew I would not see them again. I actually hiked really well. At a trail juncture, I stuck with the official route and visited Lillian Lake. It could easily have been called Maggie’s Mud Puddle. The plus side was a beautiful spring less than a mile later. Perhaps it seems odd, but I love springs. The idea that cold, pure water just gushes up out of the earth is astounding. This one had great volume and created a green ribbon of vegetation as it made a short trip to Hell Roaring Creek.
Eventually, I made my way down to Red Rock Pass. I met a Continental Divide biker on the dirt road. In response to his question, I explained I was a southbound CDT hiker. He asked me what route I was following. I showed him the trail I was getting on. He asked “You know that is going north?” That is the beauty of this trail. To go south you go north. (The reason it goes north is to get around Henry’s Lake.)
It was a hot afternoon with a gradual ascent through cattle grazing areas. It occurred to me that I was doing pretty well. I stopped and got my maps out. It seemed that there was good news and bad news. The good news was that I could reach West Yellowstone a day early and add a zero day. The bad news was that my Yellowstone permit was off.
Helen performed a miracle and got me a motel and a ride into town. This was in spite of it being a weekend in a National Park. I was so happy. It sure made hiking a lot easier knowing a zero day was ahead.
It was hot, dry hiking in the afternoon. The water sources were not listed as confident. Plus, there were no “great” camping spots. I crossed the main highway and started up the trail. After crossing many dry creek beds, I came across one gushing water. That was great. Two mountain bikers came by.
At last I crossed a pretty good stream. I would follow it up to its headwaters the next day. It was a steep valley, so campsites were not easy. I eventually found a place. After I was set up, I noticed nearby there was a pile of deer fur. No bones, just fur. Hmm?
I was so tired from the hike and the windy night before, I eagerly crawled in to my sleeping bag and fell asleep right away.
backpacking over the hill 