[Day 108] Scapegoat Wilderness

The yurt was toasty last night, so my sleep wasn’t immediate nor long. I remember lightly sleeping until 1:30am, when I promptly awoke, gave my legs a good scratch session, ate a Milky Way bar, then crashed again. My next conscious moment was 8am, and I desperately wanted more sleep. But, I was well aware of the big day ahead.

Today was to be dry, exposed, and quite abundant with climbing. It did not disappoint these expectations. I hauled six liters from Rogers Pass to the yurt, since I was unsure if the spring ahead was collectible. With the spring, I had a 20 mile water carry. Without the spring, the water carry would have been 23 and a half miles. Using my cook pot, I was able to collect ample water to filter many liters. I downed two and a half liters at the spring and cameled-up with four liters for the grind ahead.

The area was affected by a devastating burn back in 2017. To my luck, the trail was nearly clear of all major obstacles, so I could focus on managing the uphills. The net ascent was gradual to 8,300 feet, but overall abundant with 500 foot or more climbs and proceeding descents that dropped a couple hundred feet less than the climb. I managed 13 miles before I took a late 3pm lunch.

Over lunch, I named my last four serious climbs of the day — Hump One and Hump Two of the Camel’s Back, followed by Major Kahuna, then Minor Kahuna. I hit the humps of the self-labeled Camel’s Back with fresh legs and a belly full of herb and garlic tuna, lentils, and brown rice (I got the lentils and rice from the guy at Rogers Pass yesterday).

The Big Kahuna was an enjoyable climb from dry forest back onto exposed ridge. I very much enjoyed the view of Caribou Peak. There was an off-trail alternate to the top of Caribou, but I didn’t have the time or effort to give it a whirl. I wrapped an arc around Bighorn Lake atop the Big Kahuna, then dropped a 1,000 feet or so for the Little Kahuna. And, surprisingly, I enjoyed the 700 feet of climbing of the Little Kahuna.

These funny naming conventions are how I keep navigation without having to obsess over my map. I’ll note mileages and names, then hike accordingly using distance data from my watch. By this method, I know quickly if I am off-trail since I know whether I should be climbing or dropping and at what mileage. If you were a hidden observer on a nearby hillside, you might find me joking and talking to myself, cussing when I make a wrong turn, trip, or almost fall off a hillside, or singing along to some music if it’s late in the day.

By 7:30pm, I completed my longest water carry on the CDT — 20 miles. Actually, I might have had a longer one at some point, either forced by the conditions or unintentionally a result of my habit to go many miles without water. My memory fails me. I took dinner at a nearby stream with intentions of making another three and a half miles for the day. Smoked rolled in, presumably from a fire northwest of my position near West Glacier. Relative humidity is lowest at this time of day; fires and resulting smoke pick up near dusk time in response. The last miles dropped me deep to a river valley. I could feel the grizzly. I was hollering and singing all along the last miles as the forest thickened and foliage made perfect blind spots and turns for a 500-pound fury beast.

After walking in the dark of dusk, I made camp alongside the Dearborn River. I’ll head northwest along the river to Benchmark Trailhead tomorrow, where I’ll try to get into Augusta.

Signing off,

Zeppelin / fReaK (ON a leash)