backpacking over the hill

August 4th

The morning hike out of the park was uneventful. The trail is mostly open country running above the river.  Later, there were some broad, beautiful meadows where I would’ve expected to see a moose. 

One thing which struck me was how few beaver dams there have been.  I’m not sure if that’s a legacy issue from the fur trader days, but it seems like beavers would thrive in these valleys. 

There are two different patrol cabins at the southern edge of the park. Neither was staffed.

My pack had another failure where the support rod punched through. I tried my fieldbrepair, but in the process of pulling the rod into place, it broke. I tried to splint the rod, but no luck.  Now, I had a backpack that did not distribute weight evenly.  I was angry at first, but I reminded myself that I wanted an adventure and this would just make things all the more interesting. 

I climbed up out the Yellowstone area.  I could feel the altitude.  Eventually, I reached an unnamed peak at over 10,000. A very faint cell signal appeared so I stopped to see if I could check in with society. About 15 minutes later, Qtip shows up.  He said Lucky  was with him.

They were going to camp on the peak.  It was tremendous.  You could see the Winds, the Tetons, and other mountain ranges.  However, I still had another hour to go so I left to hike down the mountain. 

I ended up at a famous creek. It’s called Two Ocean Creek because it splits and one fork empties into the Atlantic  (via the Gulf of Mexico) and the other empties into the Pacific.

I camped nearby.  A doe developed a crush on me and kept coming to my campsite.  It actually got annoying after I got in the tent and she would crunch her way cloder.  Finally, I scared her off for good.

August 3rd 

I was packed and hiking by 6.  I met my first northbounder within an hour, a hint of what was to come that day

The map warned of a waist high river ford, but it was barely up to my shins.  It was mostly boring terrain.  There were trees, but since the large fire in  the 90’s, they were not impressive.

My trail led through the Heart Lake geyser basin. On this trip I developed a much greater appreciation for the sheer number of geothermal outlets in the park.  I met several Nobos and many folks on shorter trips.

Around Heart Lake I was on heightened bear alert.  Alongside the trail, almost every older toppled log was torn apart.  This is a bear sign. A larger, older log that has laid on the ground for a few years decays and becomes an inviting home for insects.  With their keen sense of smell, sharp claws, and strength  the bears rip open the logs and eat.  This section looked like it was a buffet line.

I counted 16 Nobos  that day.  Most were in good spirits.  A few were kind of worn down. I hoped I wouldn’t look like that in New Mexico.  Regardless, this was probably the northbound bubble and I would see fewer of them with each passing day.

Towards the end of the day I went back to open, dry terrain along the Snake River.  I had to ford it about one hour from my campsite. True to its name, when I was about halfway across I noticed a snake in the water right near me.  It was whitish with a pink stripe and dove under water to avoid me.

My last campsite was near the river. It had one other tent site, but I had the place to myself.  I got my chores done early and got into my tent.  It was interesting to watch the smaller birds feed and get ready for the night.

August 2nd

Qtip was up and walking by 5 am.  He wanted to alter his permit at Old Faithful Village.  I  was glad because he was taller than me and would thus clear out all the spiderwebs.

I was hiking by 6. I descended to the main geyser basin near Old Faithful Village.  I had been here before with my family about 5 years earlier. It was cool to be there early before the crowds. 

I did eventually encounter the crowd as I neared the central visitors center.  I entered hoping to charge my electronics  in light of a long stretch.  However, over each outlet was a sign warning me that the park service did not allow the use of their outlets for “security” reasons. I can’t imagine the national security threat posed by backpackers charging their phones, but obviously someone made such a compelling case they were able to puchase signs.

I went to the grocery store and got some fruit and junk food.    In addition to Fritos, I purchased a couple candy bars, hard boiled eggs, and premade sandwiches.  

Once out of the village, I was on the type of trail I had expected: wide, well maintained and marked.   I passed a few families out hiking, some people fly fishing, and one backpacker.  

I met a trail crew.  Mostly younger folks doing this as a summer job.  About half seemed enthusiastic, the others seemed grumpy given the work and the heat.

In the afternoon I came across a designated campsite sign.  It indicated campfires were prohibited there.  Walking up to take a snack break, I was surprised to see not just a fire pit, but smoke coming from it.  Recently, somebody had a fire there, but stupidly sought to put it out by pushing forest floor on top.  In dry conditions, the forest floor is mostly pine needles. It took two trips to the nearby stream to get enough water to deeply soak the smoldering mound.

It was a long hike to my second designated site.  Unfortunately, part of the trail was a bog, so I got both feet soaked.  

One interesting sight was a tree with a park service trail marker about 10 feet high.  Below that, a bear had scratched the tree marking it as the bear’s territory as well.

I was bracing myself for a noisier campsite since this one allowed up to 8 tents.  When I arrived around 7:30, I had it all to myself, including the luxurious pit toilet. 

I slept really well. 

August 1st

I was eager to get going.  Only 1 liter to get me the 12 miles to my official Yellowstone campsite at Summit Lake.

I entered the park boundary fairly early. For some reason I was expecting a national park trail to be top notch. It was not. Lots of blowdowns and few markers.  Perhaps because CDT hikers are the primary users of this portion, the park service can  skip maintenance knowing the main users can find their way.

I upped my “Hey bear” call outs.  I saw very little wildlife. Eventually, I started getting whiffs of sulfur and I knew I was getting closer to my camp.

By noon, I reached Summit Lake. The designated campsite was not where the maps said it would be. However, I eventually found it, drank lots of water, and set up camp.  I enjoyed the luxury of a nap.

I met the other camper at the site, Qtip, and eventually went to bed early.

The still night was interrupted by some strange calls from the nearby woods.  It was like a dog’s bark, but much deeper and less sharp.  I got out of my tent but could not see anything.  Whatever made the sound was moving and eventually it stopped.  

July 31st 

The motel owner gave me a ride to the trail.  I was weighed down with my resupply.  The air was hazy.  We couldn’t tell if the smoke was from yesterday’s thunderstorm sparking a new fire or if this came from the bigger fire in Wyoming.

The initial climb up from the highway was nice.  There was water in the tiny streams. I could see the footprints of the group of four for sevetal miles, but as the trail elevated and the land dried out, their tread disappeared. This was another part of the CDT where there were alternates. 

I took the higher “official” route. It was less traveled and paralleled a snowmobile trail.  I saw a family out on their off road vehicles, but otherwise I did not see any people all morning.

The trail soon joined an old rail bed. This route was popular with off road enthusiasts and I saw several. There was a side-by-side (an off road vehicle with two seats in front and two in back) stopped at the intersection leading to my last probable water source.  I asked them if there was water up the side road. They said everything was dry.  

The trail climbed away from the railroad bed and eventually became a snowmobile trail behind a locked gate.  There were a few long straight stretches.  The terrain looked as if it had been logged 30 years ago, with smaller sparse trees.  

I ran in to a few northbounders through the late afternoon. Based on what they knew from southbounders in front of me, I blew my last chance at water by believing the off-roaders; there was water down the side road. Two were from Israel and one was from Korea.  This is truly an international attraction.

As the light faded, I searched for a campsite. There were some thunderstorms in the area but I found a clearing that had level ground, a tree for hanging food away from bears, and a sunset view. 

July 30th

I’m in this strange existence where sleeping indoors is as difficult as outdoors. Those closest to me know I’m a bit of an insomniac; usually getting about 5 0r 6 hours sleep each city night.  Now, on the trail, I go to sleep around 9:30.  I usually wake up every few hours to turn over.  Perhaps longer or shorter  depending upon the weather, animal noises (real or not), and the number of sticks, rocks, and pine cones I missed while clearing a space for my tent.

Now, when I try to sleep in an enclosed room, I awaken even more often. This is a touch frustrating since I associate a town visit with four things: food, shower, sleep, and resupply. 

I waited outside the West Yellowstone Visitor Center to change my backcountry permit.  To ensure first-in-line status, I arrived about 15 minutes early.  I noted the large print saying it would open at 8:00.  Then, I endured that awkward social experience of people coming up, walking past me, looking at the door,  and then pulling on it.  Two people were quick to advise me that it was not open yet.  I thanked them for the benefit of their intellect.  Amazingly, none of the people queued up behind me.  They just left, perhaps to find a souvenir shop open.

Contrary to most experiences I have with bureaucracy, the re-permiting process went somewhat smoothly. Backcountry permits are handled through a separate office and process.  This is extremely valuable to CDT hikers that often have little control over their exact arrival dates. The person handling it in office was a retired park service employee from another section (environmental education).  He wasn’t totally comfortable with a cancel and reprocess, so he phoned in to the central office and eventually it all seemed to work out where I kept my itinerary but just bumped everything back one day.  I joked that I hoped I did not have to watch”the video” since I saw it in Glacier and had survived a bear encounter. He said that I would have to watch the video because Yellowstone bears were different from Glacier. Trying not to be a smart-ass, I nevertheless asked whether they spoke different languages. Unamused, he informed me that Glacier bears were mostly vegetarian with a plant based diet while Yellowstone bears were mainly carnivorous. The tone led me to believe there are probably situations where a bunch of yellowstone Rangers walk in to a bar filled with glacier Rangers and start talking smack about those plant-eating glacier bears.  Much like the old movie scene with the inter-service military bar brawl, I’m sure the Law Enforcement Rangers come in to sort things out after the fight.

Rest assured our Park Service has a separate yellowstone video. I was keen to note that eye contact was not as important to Yellowstone bears as it was to Glacier bears, perhaps indicating that vegetarian bears are more sensitive.   

After an hour, I was all done except for the $9.00 fee which I had to pay in the main area and bring back the receipt.   Thankfully, I was not in a hurry so I enjoyed listening to the discussion between the man at the counter and the only park service person staffing it. They spent 15 minutes discussing whether or not there was rock climbing in the Park.

Done with my paperwork,  I set about eating, napping, and getting my gear ready for a return to trail.  The hotel owner agreed to drive me back to the pass.  Thus, I spent the rest of the time updating my blog from the office computer rather than my phone.

July 25th.

Today was a special day.  It was a town day.  I was going in to Lima.  It is pronounced like the bean, not the Peruvian city.

It was a 7 mile walk down a gravel road to reach the pickup point for the motel owner.  Dull walking, first through cattle grazing, then next to interstate 15.

As I was two thirds through the tunnel under the interstate, I heard some bells.  Up ahead, a herd of sheep came around the corner.  They were being herdedinto the tunnel, but didn’t like the fact I was there.  I slipped to the side and out and ended up helping the rancher herd the sheep into the tunnel.

The fast ones soon appeared.  They had better luck reaching the motel owner and we sat on the side of I 15 waiting for our ride.

Matt, the motel owner was great and gracious.  When we got to town, I ate, showered,  did laundry, napped, and ate again. Lima has seen better days, but was still an excellent stop.

I received my new shoes and donated my old ones to the shoe tree at the motel.  This is where through hikers hang their abandoned shoes.  It was kinda impressive. 

July 24th

I  broke camp fairly quickly.  As I was doing so, Kimchee, one of the group of 4 fast, young hikers, went past.  She was the source of the footprints I saw yesterday morning.  She was off like a rocket and I only saw her briefly as the trail climbed up. I could tell this was not heavily explored because instead of fancy names, the mountains were called “Red Conglomerate” and “Knob.”

I ran in to two northbounders this morning.  They seemed pretty happy to be in their last state.

Also, came across a huge old tree near a developed spring.  My guess was a 12 foot circumference.   Old trees are so majestic. 

My nemesis, meadows, caused me to get off trail again.  I knew where I wanted to go, so I bushwhacked and followed game trails.  I learned the hard way that stingin nettles were now coming into strengtth along wet areas.  If youve never felt them, it is like fiberglass or  scratchy wool that stings your skinn.  So now the mosquitos and flies had competition.

I eventually got back on trail and saw the other three members of the group of 4 were just ahead of me.  I caught up to them during their rest period.  We were all about to ascend from water up to distinct ridgelines for the next 10 miles.

No individual element was to blame, but the hot dry air, the wind, and the constant up 600 feet/ down 600 feet all combined to wipe me out.  The views and the geology were a pleasant distraction.  Expansive views in all directions.  Also, the ridges were mostly round, smooth stone.  I could not figure out if we were walking across large glacial morraines or if this had been old river bed thrust up.  I wished I could carry about 10 pounds of these egg shaped rocks with me.

At the end of the day, I chose, once again, to not take the alternate that got to water sooner.  I took the official route (which was clearly not a popular choice judging by the tread).  I came across two male mule deer grazing in the sunset.  I also caught the interest of a coyote family just getting ready for the night.  I don’t know if this is common, but one parent took off in one direction with the smallest pup following while the rest of the pack went slowly and obviously  in the opposite direction.  I went all the way to the edge of the public land and camped next to the barbed wire fence  that held back a herd of cattle.  I fell asleep to the sounds of cows and coyotes.

July 23rd

I woke up and was a little sluggish after two days of 26 miles each.  Once I did get going, I was surprised to see a fresh set of footprints on trail.  They must’ve passed my camp this morning.  It wasn’t the younger couple, so somebody new.  I followed the new footprints up a meandering creek with alder and willows; seemed like perfect moose habitat.   Sure enough, I came across a moose having  breakfast.  I was a little elevated so I had a good view.  She was not thrilled to see me, but she also did not panic.

Here, again, the trail split into an alternate that was supposed to be more scenic versus the official route.  I took the official and the new footprints took the alternate.

 

The trail went up.  As a result, it went from forest to dry, higher ground with small patches of pine.  I saw a lone wolf in one pass.  He looked a little thin and I suspect wide open terrain for a single wolf is tough hunting.

After the morning’s first ascent, the trail went down to Deadman’s Lake.  No explanation as to whether there was a deadman found there, or a person visited the lake then died, or somebody threatened another that if they went to the lake they were a deadman.  The possibilities could fill a hiker’s mind.  Rounding the ridge top, the blue green lake below was beautiful. As I followed the official trail down, I noticed an all wheel drive trail that bombed straight down.  No, I would stick to the official trail.  An hour later I was mad at myself as the official trail shot gently past and away from the lake, mileage I would have to cover.

Two curious things about Deadman Lake.  First, there was a fox.  I startled him and he sprinted down the trail.  He stopped.  I approached and again he sprinted ahead.  We did this a few more times before he finally realized he could run off trail.  The second curiosity was an outhouse.  Just sitting there, all vandalized.  With no roads to Deadman’s Lake, it was a curious structure to find.

I climbed up again, this time through another Deadman Pass.  Pretty tough country.  I  would continue to go up and down through hot, dry country all day. The horse flies were tenacious. I found a north bound hiker when I was resting at Bannack Pass which was even lonelier than Bannock Pass.  Thunderstorms threatened in the afternoon heat, but never coalesced.

Once the trail entered a forested area with springs, I started looking for a safe place to camp.  I was across from Garfield Mountian, a huge, mostly featureless block of stone.  As I contemplated it while catching my breath. I noticed about 2/3rds of the way up was a large black shape that looked like it was moving.  I focused and thought it must be a moose, but I couldn’t understand what a moose was doing up that high.  Then, it moved into a slightly more open area and I made out the shape of a black bear.  I’m a suburban boy, but given how far away the bear was and that it was very clear what it was, I think it must’ve been huge.  I immediately searched my memory for any fragments of feeding patterns of black bears and whether he would cross the valley and visit me in the night.

 

I finally settled on a place to camp, cooked my food far away and hung my food even further away.  I did not sleep as well, imagining I heard noises off and on through the night.

 

July 26th

I was up early and a little antsy to get going.   Originally, we had discussed breakfast at 8:00 when the restaurant opened and leave by 9:00.  There was not a lot of conviction on the part of the others.  By 7:30, when I heard no stirrings whatsoever from their room, I asked the proprietor if he could run me to the trail.   He was agreeable. 

I  started the climb back up to the Continental Divide on the west side of the valley.  Even though the vegetation was the same, the geology was different as the rocks were more lava like. What an interesting geology in this area.

About 5 miles in to my climb, my backpack felt funny in the way it rode. I reached down and found one of the two carbon fiber sup port rods had poked through the support fabric.  I took off the pack and noticed the other one was about to tear through as well.

Basically, the support for my backpack is a rectangle with two horizontal bars and two carbon fiber vertical bars.  The vertial bars are able to flex allowing curvature so there is a gap along most of my back for ventilation.  It also distributes weight between shoulder straps (upper bar) and waistbelt  (lower bar). Unfortunately, friction and weight caused the rods to eat their way through the fabric. It is a design flaw, in my opinion, to expect fabric to support weight transferred through a rod tip.

The upshot was that I was stuck with a pack where all the weight would rest on my shoulders and run flush along my back. At first, I thought my trip was over. To put it in perspective,  I carry about 75 % of the weight on my hips and 25% on my shoulders.   

I was still able to get cell coverage.  The manufacturer, a small business, does not have a phone number.  I emailed a description, marked it urgent, and hoped for the best.

As I waited, I came up with a patch.  I was not going to stop or turn around if I could help it.  I cut off some off the strap that provides chest compression  (pulling the two shoulder straps towards each other across the upper chest). I folded the small piece of strap in half and stuck it over the tip.  It was bigger than the hole, so it served as a plug. After wrestling with the carbon fiber rod, I eventually got it in place and it held.  

Later, when I was able to get access, I received an email from the company saying they were short on staff and if the email was urgent, to mark it as such, and send it.  So I forwarded my urgent email with a second urgent and hoped for good news. This company does have a reputation of standing behind their products, so I was hopeful that I would not get the “send it in for repair” run around.

So, with a patch and a prayer, I set off again. First I was on top of Little Table Mountain then after a decline and climb I was walking along the top of Big Table Mountain. 

It was warm and some thunderstorms were developing, but they were always off in distance. This  had the twin effects of motivating me to get moving, but also to block the sun and cool things off.
Generally, this is dry territory. Late in the day, I  made it to the last reliable springs.  Someone had developed it such that the spring water was routed through a pipe into a long trough.  I could barely make out sheep sounds in the distance and the trough must’ve been for them. Unfortunately, the spring water had a lingering sheep shit flavor, even after filtering.  Hello crystal light!

While filling up, Wash Pot and Moonbeam showed up. They started around 11 from Lima, so I was glad to have left when I did.

 I pushed on until 8:00 (met a lady from England going northbound) and found a campsite where someone had gone crazy cutting firewood.   Initially the mosquitos were very intense as I set up my tent.   However, just when I switched to cooking dinner the wind kicked in. This blew away the bugs, but made my little wood-burning stove a handful making sure I didn’t spread sparks.

Even though it was windy, I was able to fall asleep quickly.  If only I  hadn’t taken that midnight swig of sheep flavored water it would’ve been a great night’s sleep.