[Day 107] Huckleberries & Hermit Huts

Walking through a grassy clearing this morning, I startled a brown animal about 50 feet away into a dead charge to forest. The shoulder-high grass hid the face. But, the large humps of the shoulder and rear, the blonde-tipped brown hairy butt, and the branch-snapping, blunt footsteps of the forest dweller’s barreling sprint gave it away — that was my first grizzly encounter.

Dave at the outfitter was telling me the berries were now in season. North of Stemple Pass, I hit the thickets of huckleberry patches. These purple-blue fruits are the one of the highest antioxidant berries known, right up there with blueberries. Exclusively found in the wild, huckleberries have never been successful cultivated in mass, even with the dedicated research and development of the University of Montana. Hence, you’ve never seen huckleberries in your local supermarket. I’m surprised a company hasn’t taken the berry, genetically engineered it to grow on Mars, and advertised it in the produce section at Walmart for the masses. Hucklesberries tend to be quite picky about condition. I’ve noticed them on northeastern slopes with shady sunlight seeping through tree coverage — too much sunlight and the shrub is barren and red, too little and berries are dormit. The shrubs with green leaves with red-speckling seem to indicate decent sunlight exposure and provide the best berry yield. My estimation of the “berry line,” as I have formally named it, remains true near 6,000 feet elevation. I did not come across any berry-bearing shrubs above 6,500 feet. A few raspberries were found on dry, rocky hillsides.

This country is littered with remote cabins. Atop the climbs, tree clearings with sparkling windows and solar panels give up the locations of these sheltering hermits. A couple miles west down the road from Stemple Pass, off Lincoln Creek Road, once sat a secluded cabin home to a once bright mathematician. In his cabin, this man constructed devious bombs, packaged inconspicuously and shipped via the postal service from Lincoln, Montana to unsuspecting political victims. His name was Ted Kaczynski — the Unabomber. His cabin was packed up and hauled out by the FBI long ago, then traded from the FBI to the National Archives. Today, the town of Lincoln wants the cabin back to make an attraction. I guess I am in some of the most remote parts of the lower 48 states if this is where the Unabomber lived undetected for many years. Deservedly, Kaczynski died back in June of this year, 2023.

I reached my second water source of the day at Flesher Pass. A trail paralleling the highway arrived at a spring source about a quarter of a mile off the path. I cameled-up for the 15 miles haul to water at Roger Pass. I decided to cut off trail, up the hill on the other side of the highway to trail. Oh boy, this was a terrible idea. Navigating steep, crumbling hillside, I hopped blowdowns as I tightroped on top of deep dead branches embedded in knee high grass. Stickers from all types of plants adhered to my socks, shorts, and even the hair on my legs like velcro.

Since leaving Helena, grasshoppers have been abundant. On the ridge walks with high winds, these buggers effectively become projectiles with their vertical launch maneuvers. They hop across trail all day, occasional hitting me in the cheek or eye when the wind picks up.

I hauled my way to Roger Pass, the last predictable water source for potentially the next 20 miles. I took dinner there and again cameled up. While prepping dinner, an older fellow by the trail name of Porch Light provided me a banana, nectarine, rice packet, and some Belvita breakfast crackers. He had hiked the CDT in 2016, and my trip brought back a lot of memories. We talked while I chowed on dinner. At 8:40pm, both of us had to get moving. I dumped my trash and carried out a precautious five liters in water. There was a supposed open yurt ahead as I heard from some southbound hikers way back. I made the night trek of three miles to the yurt and, to my benefit, it was unlocked on this windy night.

Signing off,

Zeppelin / fReaK (ON a leash)