Everything Changes

July 4, 2018. Bluebird Lake to Eureka, MT.

I was stuffed up in the morning. I feared a cold. I have not been sick in years, so this was a little concerning. But today was a special day in two ways: it was the Fourth of July and it was a town day!

I knew that I only had one major climb early on and the rest was literally downhill. Although overcast, the air did not feel like rain. I’m not going to lie; putting on sodden socks, wet shoes, and yesterday’s dank hiking clothes was miserable.

About 100 yards from camp, the trail had been cleared of blowdowns. The unmistakable sight and smell of sawdust told the story. Even better, the early climb did produce body heat that dried out my shirt and hoody.

When I reached the apex, I looked east and was delighted to see Glacier’s peaks, even though the tops were cloud covered. Better yet, looking west to my destination I could see clearing skies.

The trail clearing magic ended the minute I turned at the next junction. Blowdowns, slippery rocks, and copious amounts of stored rain marked the descent. It was an old mining area and there was abandoned, rusted equipment as well as sealed-off shafts.

At the bottom of the hill, the trail merged on to an old mining road. This generally trended down over the next eight miles. It was transformational. First, the skies began to clear. Then, the blowdowns and trail obstacles stopped. Finally, the forest opened up with a high canopy and just grass on the ground, affording glimpses to the valley and reservoir below. Towards the bottom I stopped by a brook to change into my cleanest clothes (a very low bar) and wash up. I was startled by a couple out for a walk. Perhaps they were startled by the odd looking man cleaning himself up in the woods.

There was a long road walk at the bottom. First among smallish 10 or 20 acre homesteads, later large ranch and haying operations. I scared up a couple bull elk, their antlers just forming, covered in a brown fuzz. Also, a few deer ran away on the open grassland.

My feet had been hurting from constant downhill walking. Now, walking on pavement was making things worse. I reached the highway for the last three miles into town and my motel. At first, there was no shoulder meaning I had to step down and away as cars approached on the two lane highway. Trucks made a special sound as they barreled by.

I walked past a golf course. There were a few stray balls en route and I grabbed a newish one. My back and hip have been sore, so the thought of rolling a golf ball into tight muscles and tendons brought a smile to my face.

At last, I reached my motel in the northern part of Eureka. It was a small town version of a conglomerate: an Exxon station with a Subway restaurant with a motel with a real estate agent. So, while I was paying for my motel room, a chunky tourist was waiting to pay for his pork rinds and 20 gallons of unleaded while in the other line somebody was buying a meatball sub or closing in an escrow. I didn’t care. I walked into my room and turned on the shower. While taking off my shoes, I noticed the left one had a nasty stain. I couldn’t remember what I stepped in. When I took my sock off, I discovered I had bled quite a bit from a cut.

That shower felt so good. I felt like I washed away the cold, the rain, the ash from the burned forest, and the sweat. A burger, some minor medical procedures and this dude was, ironically, a happy camper.