[Day 100] To the Smelter City

It may be with a tinge of regret that I write about my decision today. I am cheating a bit.

The day began where yesterday left off (as it does). I packed camp on the middle of the climb to Cutaway Pass. By 9am, I was atop Cutaway Pass, relaxed for my three miles of descent before Rainbow Mountain Pass. The repetition of passes, along with the scenery, deep, wet forests of the valleys, and Pacific Northwest weather, remind me of the Washington section of the PCT. Next, I made Rainbow Mountain Pass with its long traversing switchbacks. Proceeding, I enjoyed my final big climb of the day along quick successive switchbacks to Goat Flats — this marked the critical decision point of my day.

The Anaconda Cutoff is a popular, 57-mile alternate route that cuts through the hiker-favorite town of Anaconda, subtracting 85 miles of work involved in the 138-mile official trail route around the town of Butte. Anaconda, once home to the Anaconda Smelter operation, has recovered after the exit of the smelter industrial and become a bustling community very friendly to hikers — so friendly that they built a dedicated hiker hut in their city park. I tried my best to research my decision, and I’ll address my findings and motives below.

Food: Number one, I ate down my food too quickly this stretch. I thought I’d be making 30 mile days, but my body was only having 25’s — which puts me behind schedule by a full day. My candy reserves, which are always in excess, were depleted. I was not going to make 60 miles to the I-15 hitch into Butte on one Top Ramen, one Quest protein bars, and five individual Sour Patch kids. At least, I would not make it comfortably or in good health or spirits — couple this with feeling quite beat.

Southbound Hikers: I asked many southbound hikers about the Butte vs. Anaconda route. Most went Anaconda and despised the road walk. The few that hiked around Butte had no fervor in their answers. Had these hikers been more distinguished in their opinions — either extreme of “I loved the Butte route” or “I hate Butte” — I would have hiked it. The answer I mostly got was on the order of, “It’s a lot of dirt road with some rock formations.” That did not entice — I wanted a reason to see it. Or, I wanted to experience the suck that people complained about. But, there was neither of that — no wow factor and no brutality.

Triple Crowners: I asked a couple friends who hold their Triple Crown. The honorable Chairman went to Anaconda and seemed unregretful of missing Butte miles. Wildlife, a hot shot firefighter whom I briefly hiked near on the PCT, almost recommended the way to Anaconda. She is one of the most badass hikers I know, and she would have hiked Anaconda had fires not forced her to take the Big Sky Alternate — a route that cuts from Butte to West Yellowstone avoiding the Idaho-Montana border section, as known as the Super Butte Cutoff.

Shortcut: I save 85 miles on the feet by way of Anaconda. Or, from the more cynical perspective, I bypass 135 miles of the CDT. For one, my body is feeling the mileage a bit. Undoubtedly, a short break should mitigate the sore feet and ankles — I’ve felt this before. However, I ponder what’s next after the CDT. Obviously, a job is on the docket. But, I reasonably could fit in more miles before winter closes the season. The thought of southbound hiking the Appalachian Trail has nestled itself into my brain. I lack constraints — job, rent, relationship — right now, so it seems the best time should I want to do another months-long hike. The other hikes I have on my mind — Teton Crest, Wind River High Route, Pacific Northwest Trail… well, maybe not the PNT — could be reasonably managed when I do have a full time job. The Triple Crown is and was never the goal, but I am curious about the East Coast. Saving a few days could be beneficial in the scheme of rest and prep for what’s next.

Coin Flip: Chance was my final item in the decision process. A flip of the coin at the trail split atop Goat Flats — heads for Butte, tails for Anaconda — pointed me to the Smelter City.

From Goat Flats, I made my way towards Storm Lake Pass. I heard some talking well off trail, but I couldn’t see people. As I approached the chatter, I noticed a group by a snow patch on a hillside adjacent to the trail. The group disappeared over the hillside when I reached the inflection point between flat terrain and a steeper climb. I heard a whizz about 10 feet above my head to the left and a following firecracker explosion — that was either a flare or a bullet. Once I crested the hill, four boys were walking trail towards me. I came up on them, and an emo character holster a 9mm handgun. “What the fuck was that?” The kid had shot his handgun at a rocky embankment across the trail, and the bullet ricocheted direct down a line with the trail. I gave the kids a stern message; they seemed apologetic. They walked rapidly after the confrontation, and I’d guess ran when I was out of sight.

The trail continued over Storm Lake Pass down to Storm Lake. The rain rolled in and soaked me over two hours. Through the rain, I hit my last climb over Twin Lakes Pass, then followed deep wet forest down to Twin Lakes and the trailhead. It was pleasant, albeit wet, hiking.

To end the day, I walked dirt road towards Montana Highway 1. I knew, once I hit the highway, public land disappears and I’d be committed to making the 12 mile road walk into town. Feeling cold and tired, I quit at 26 miles for the day with a nice campsite nearby. My regret came when I thought about the road walk. I have some 20 miles of highway into and out of town and 20 of dirt roads back to the CDT. Was Anaconda a mistake? I will let tomorrow’s mind decide.

Oddly, over the recent days, my hunger is very present during the day, but dies when dinner time approaches. I mustered the will to eat a protein bar and some Cheez-It’s. I did my best food hang and got an early bedtime.

Signing off,

Zeppelin / fReaK (ON a leash)