A Test of Toughness: First week on the PNT

Right now, I'm reclining on a cushioned chair, sitting on a deck with a magnificent mountain view, sipping my cold hard cider and taking my time to write this post. Yes, I'm in town, specifically: Eureka, Montana... and in time for the 4th of July celebrations! This is our second resupply town on the trail, after Polebridge. Me and Snowberry lucked out when a nice lady who lives here decided to take us in and open up her home and heart to us. I'll tell you, after this past week, I feel like I'm in heaven.

...but let's back up a bit. There has been so much that has happened and so many thoughts thunk that this past week, that I don't really know where to begin. One thing I can say for sure is that it hasn't been easy so far, most certainly because of bad weather. 

Let's start from the beginning, when me and Snowberry caught the morning ferry from Waterton to Goat Haunt. The ferry ride itself was beautiful and quite enjoyable, and one of the staff members provided info-packed commentary about the region and area. One story that stuck with me had to do with the huge fire Waterton Park battled last year. It raged on for many days, and Canadian fire brigades came in from all over the country to try to quell the flames. They also tried to evacuate the many animal residents that called the forest home, including a few bull bison. One such bison, though, refused to leave. There was nothing rescuers could do to capture and relocate him. Once the fire was put out, serveyers found that he had survived. Ruled by his instincts, he entered into a large pond and sat there until the fire was over. Hearing this story affirmed my belief in the wisdom of animals, and how they can fend for themselves. The bull bison's refusal to go with the resuers was his way of saying: "Humans: I don't need your help. This is my home, I know what to do."

After an hour's ride, we were finally in Glacier National Park, together, and didn't waste any more time. We were ready to hit the trail. The hiking in Glacier was easier than I had imagined (probably because we skipped the hard beginning). The trail was relatively flat on the first day, and we arrived quite early at our first campsite, Lake Francis. The view was spectacular, but I had a strong feeling that now, we were really in the middle of nowhere, and started getting quite paranoid about encountering a bear. The real beasts though, were the mosquitos. They were constantly hovering around us in swarms, and almost immediately we were forced into sporting our very fashionable head nets. 

Happy about the beauty nature had to offer us, but worried about bears, I hardly slept the first night...

In her usual fashion, Snowberry got up very early and woke me up, just as I was finally drifting off into dream world. Today we would climb up Brown Pass and walk to Bowman Lake. The weather was still cloudy with spurts of rain, and only once we gained quite a bit of elevation, the mosquitos left us alone, a welcome break to say the least.  

We had only run into one very friendly female ranger up until this point, and I started realizing that seeing other PNT hikers was not probable. It was just me and Snowberry in this vast place, making our way slowly but surely down the trail... I also realized, as I gazed up into the clouds, that Glacier offered us a powerful, almost overbearing energy. I felt very much like a guest, almost an intruder, treading softly upon a land that otherwise is usually left untrodden. A place with a mystical and magical spirit. It was exciting, but also intimidating. 

We made good time across the pass and arrived at Bowman with plenty of day light to spare. I felt lighter and more playful. The weather was changeable, with sunshine and showers constantly dancing with one another. The water looked so extremely appealing, I just had to dive in. It was so refreshing, I did it twice. 

After dinner, a storm moved in with heavy rain. We sought the shelter of our tents, and eventually, mind racing, I fell asleep, long after nightfall.

Day 3 was easy and pleasant (except for the fucking mosquitos!!). Snowberry took off before me, and I walked at a good speed along the flat edge of the lake. We met up at the ranger house at the lower foot of Bowman and road walked until we reached Polebridge. If you've watched A Sense of Direction (click link), you know about the North Fork Hostel and the general jovial vibe of this tiny town. I loved it there! I stuffed myself with pastries from the amazing bakery inside the mercantile, and to my surprise, ran into my angel cousin again who decided to make the drive over from Whitefish to meet me there! As we stood in the shop, along comes his neighbor, and offers us to camp on her lawn, as she had a home in Polebridge she just happened to be visiting. We ate out in the Saloon and had local beers. Life was good. I was very tempted to stay up late, socialize with the many itinerant travelers and drink more beer, but instead I chose to go to bed. 

As I lay in my tent, a tension inside of me grew. For me, part of thru-hiking is the places that it brings me. I almost always feel the need (unlike many other thru-hikers) to linger in town, to explore the connections I make with people further, and to absorb the place I'm in, rather than pass right through. I hate the feeling of being in a hurry because it makes me stressed. It makes me feel like I'm missing out on a potentially fulfilling experience, and resistant to the thru-hiking mentality. 

In the morning, I had to think long and hard about what I wanted, but after intense innerly deliberation, I chose to continue hiking, leaving the warmth of Polebridge behind me. 

The following 2 days were tough, as we hiked through the Flathead National Forest. The weather took a turn for the worst as we gained elevation, and Snowberry and me got stuck in a snow/hail storm, as we tread through snow, tons of blow-down and a bizarre burn area. We were extremely cold and wet, got list at least twice as we deviated off the forest roads, and both fell into streams and got even more wet. We were trying to average 20 miles a day, and the last day spent 13 hours hiking mostly uphill, and only succeeding to hike 15 miles. It was brutal. I was exhausted, Snowberry was freezing, and our morale was down. With about 45 miles ahead of us until we reached Eureka, we made a collective decision to cut through Forest Road 114 that lead to highway 93, and try to get to town early. Luckily, a car came down the road and a couple from Kansas just happened to be heading to Eureka to pick up a fishing permit. Someone must have been watching over us as they dropped us off right in front of Jax Cafe. We entered the establishment sopping wet, and everyone stared as we ordered food and hot chocolate, and proceeded to wolf it down like there was no tomorrow.

And now, here I am, presently... The weather has turned just in time for 4th of July celebrations. Last night, I had the honor to participate in scrabble night, hosted by our host, and I couldn't be more satisfied. It was a chance for me to meet and interact with a bunch of local women, all with their own interesting story.

Eureka is a very pleasant town with beautiful mountain views. Residents here have a strong sense of community and value the vitality of their home. People co-exist here quite impressively considering that the population is an amalgamation of strongly liberal-minded people and die hard conservatives. Somehow, they make it work which is a refreshing sight given America's current political divisiveness.

Onto eat more and party with locals! Tomorrow we hit the trail again. I feel more motivated now to continue on this journey, and open to what happens. Each day I get stronger, and I get to know my wants and needs a bit more deeply. 

Onwards! ... until next time...