Montana

I left Kevin in Bozeman, on Monday the 23rd and headed north toward the Bob Marshall Wilderness. I took all small highways and was enjoying the ride. I'm nearing 6,000 miles of road travel and most of it has been off the major interstates. The driving is as good as being in the wilderness and the western side of Montana is as good a place as it gets.

I found a campsite edging Holland Lake in the Flat Head National Forrest. I watched the sun drape its final rays on the western facing mountains on the opposite side of the lake and then having just witnessed the last of the sun for the day the moon peaked its radiance over the ridge. It was incredible. If you look close enough - and especially if you have a reference point like the mountain - you can see the moon move ever so slowly. The sky was clear and even with the moon like a spot light filling the lodge pole pine forrest with thick shadows, stars could still be seen. A meteor left a bright streak across the sky that stood for an instant as it burned up in the atmosphere. I immediately abandoned all thought of going on my long hike the next day and decided I would simply relax by the lake and take advantage of this beautiful campsite.

The next day, after sleeping in until 11 and then laying in the hammock all afternoon reading by the lake I encountered the guy you always will if you're traveling for long enough. I went for a short drive on the back country dirt road and when going back to the campsite I encountered a man stumbling and waving on the opposite edge of the road. I slowed the car, then stopped. It took all but two seconds for me to realize this guy was absolutely smashed. He had a wine bottle in his hand that had one big gulp left in it. He was staggering around unable to stand straight. He really wanted someone to talk too - so I sat in my car and he took a seat in the middle of the road by my car. Eventually he had to pee. He was going by the edge of the road which drops sharply at the shoulder a good 2-3 feet into a ditch. He was taking baby steps as he pee'd into the ditch - I saw it coming - the baby steps turned into him running then falling shoulder first into the small shrubs lining the ditch below. Then he couldn't get out. So I got out of the car and hauled him out. He had pee'd all over himself. "I've been to 50 states and 7 countries," he would tell me about 5 times during the course of our conversation. He wanted to write a book about his stories - he had some. Worked as a deck hand in Alaska, and New Orleans. Then up to Glauster, MA where he got arrested for throwing a beer can and being drunk. Three weeks in prison - trial - then sentenced three more weeks. The stories went on. I felt bad leaving the guy. He had a p.o.s. (piece of shit) mountain bike and two crap back packs hanging from the handlebars. A tarp wrapped around the frame and another plastic bag with some clothes in it. He had dropped out of high school at 17 in Kalispell, MT (where I am now!) and just started his life as a Nomad. He was a ragging alcoholic. Admitted by him. He tried to recite a poem he had written about being a Viking, but he was too drunk to remember it. He also had Indian (American kind) in him. Talked of fire water (crap whiskey settlers gave to Indians which ended up helping to destroy their way of life - not sure the settlers knew it would do this - but the Indians never drank alcohol - their bodies cannot handle it - they get drunk quick). I gave him my copy of "On the Road". I hoped if anything it would give him some motivation to write his own story. But I know it would take multiple miracles for that story to get told. A damn shame.

For two nights I laid in my hammock by the lake and watched the moon show. I never get sick of the moon. I hiked up an 8,000 foot peak over looking the lake and snowy peaks to the west. On Thursday I drove the "Going to the Sun" Highway through Glacier National Park. I drove all over the place. Out to the Plains Indians Historical Mueseum in Browning, MT (which was excellent) and then looped right back to Kalispell. I'm going back into the park today to spend 3 nights in its interior. Almost September??.......crazy!

The Moment is NOW

Ahhhh...Yellowstone National Park - the geysers, the hot springs, the wildlife!

Man...that place rubs me the wrong way in mid-summer. After 3 days of postponing, procrastinating by taking long drives through the Tetons and Yellowstone, and gorging myself to non-movement at all you can eat lunch and dinner buffets I decided NOT to hike into Yellowstone. Fuck Yellowstone in the summer - its a god damn zoo - with fat tourists in RV's that I didn't feel like dealing with. Plus - I couldn't find the trail head to my hike.

I decided I just wanted to drive - to burn some fuel and put some more miles on my car. I drove about 4 hours north to Salmon, Idaho. I small little nothing town. I stayed in a wonderful hotel there for $42 with an added $3 for a hot breakfast in the morning. "MMmmmmmm...that sounds good...I'll have that." It was a hotel out of the 1960's. Flashing neon lights -" SACajawea INN - VACANCY - Free Hot tub" (It was a hot tub in the middle of the breakfast room and yes the SAC is capitalized). The rooms were oriented in a U-shape with a nice grass lawn in the middle - each door faced outside and had a screen for the bugs to watch you. I enjoyed SACajawea Inn and found Salmon, Idaho to be quite pleasant.

Goldbug Hot Springs was only 20 miles away and my main objective for the region. A steep 1000' gain and 1.7 mile hike took me to some very lovely 100 degree natural hot tubs with a view of the valley I had hiked up. It was perfect - other than having to wait for the naked couple to finish up 'conudeling' right by the better soak zones. When I'm mature enough for a woman of my own - I'm taking her to Goldbug Hot Springs. I read and relaxed there for several hours.

I had been kind of fluffing around the last few days in preparation for a hiking weekend with my great friend Kevin who just moved to Bozeman, Montana to continue with his education. After the hot springs I spent a night outside Butte, Montana (en route to Bozeman). Butte's a city off 1-90 lined with slot machine casinos and neon lights. I also returned my second interim camera for I knew my wonderful mother sent my fixed camera - the one that broke in Wisconsin - to Kevin in Montana.

It was great to be able to spend the weekend with a Kevin and have some company out in the woods for once. He planned a perfectly challenging and rewarding hike in the Spanish Lakes region of the Madison Range in the Rocky Mountains only 45 minutes from Bozeman. On the first day on the trail we accomplished a strenuous off trail bushwhack over large boulders and a talus and gravel filled couloir up and over 10,000' "Crocodile Pass" - so named by Kevin for no particular reason what so ever. 40 - 50 mph wind gusts threatened to rip our tents down during the night but both our identical "Tarptents" prevailed. We hiked 16 miles on the last day to complete our 25 mile loop. It was cloudy and rainy mostly all of the last day - but spirits were truly souring. Both Kevin and I had difficulty containing how awesome we felt through out the day. I'll never stop saying it. There's energy out in the woods - more I feel the higher you get up a mountain. Perhaps it has something to do with the magnetic energy of the rock - I don't know - but we felt it - and that's why I'm always going back for more.

People

I was sitting in Meineke Auto Shop the day after my muffler rusted off the exhaust pipe. It dragged along the highway for 20 miles. I ripped it off entirely at a rest stop and drove to Casper on I-25 in Wyoming with no muffler - head out the window attempting to gasp air instead of exhaust fumes for 100 miles. It was Casper or bust. Anyways, this lady 60's - 70's, white stockings, kinda hobbled when she walked, hair had all kinds of crazy pins and fasteners - she went to the rest room at least 15 times in the hour. She was an old time cowgirl - man she was a riot. Asked for the spark plugs back that were being replaced in her truck - using liquid cement she makes a sculpture with all her old car parts - "I just put the old muffler right in the middle of it - oh its cute!" She used to be a bear hunter and a was once a hunting guide for lousy shot city folk. She even claimed to stick a shot gun in a mans mouth who stole from her. She was great. A Jersey girl moved country sat beside me and whispered "There's some real cowboys out here...".

I met an interesting fellow that worked at an Indian Shop. He was spouting "Little Field's Theory of Time" to me. I've heard it before and its true - its not a published theory, but it was established by my 9th grade World History teacher Mr. Littlefield. It essentially says time goes faster as you get older. It has a mathematical formula that checks out. I won't go into details - but it's absolutely all true as anybody can really attest - because we all have experience getting older - and how the days seem to slip by like they never happened.

After doing an incredibly grueling hike to Gannett Peak in Wyoming's Wind River range - 40 miles in 3 days - not sure why I push myself so hard sometimes - but I hike fast - especially when I'm solo - and sometimes to the brink of collapse. 17 miles on the last day left me beat. I ran into a group of three hiking out after their epic 8 night journey in the Wind River wilderness. After only a minute of brief conversation I was invited to dinner. My new friends were from Pennsylvania and recognized my east coast style immediately (who knew?). My plan was to head up to Jackson that night and eat at my favorite buffet salad restaurant. I said thanks but no thanks and I said good bye to some nice folks I'd never thought I'd see again. Turns out Jackson Hole was much further than I thought so I said hell I'll eat right here in Dubois. My newly acquired acquaintances where walking in the very same restaurant I decided on. This time I excepted their invitation to dine with them. Ohhh what a feast! It was the first time I had encountered some genuine hospitality on the trip! And they were from the east, Pennsylvania, the first state I really spent some time in on my journey. Maybe its because I'm opening myself up more too. Maybe projecting my energy out more and being more willing to let people in. A fault of mine that needs serious work is the tendency to keep bottled up or closed off. As the trip has gone on I have the urge just to talk to everyone. It's a great move because I learn so much from different people....things I would never even think about. I was treated to an incredible expensive meal that evening with virtually total strangers. It was a refreshing experience and so completely generous. I thank them from the bottom of my heart. And for filling me up for a good 12 hour period.

There have been several moments when I'm driving in my car by incredible scenery or hiking through a valley with towering cliffs on both sides of me when I cannot contain myself and my shoulders shudder and I let out a whooping WOOOOOOO HEEEEEEEE!! I love the road and I love the trail. Both give me absolute freedom. Is that what I'm after here? I'm not sure yet - and I'm not sure I'm ready to know. I'm going to keep moving. The Tetons sparked my love affair with the mountains when I was 18, but I'm going to bypass them and head into the Yellowstone backcountry. My 4th visit to Yellowstone and it will only be my first time camping in its massive interior. Bear spray is ready. All signs are a go - I'm off!

-Matt

"They have worries, they're counting the miles, they're thinking about where to sleep tonight, how much money for gas, the weather, how they'll get there--and all the time they'll get there anyway, you see." Dean Moriarty in Jack Kerouac's On the Road

My Wallets Gone!!! (and so are my trekking poles)

Chapter One - Rocky Mountains

Two equally dense slabs of of continental plates drove into each other for millions of years - each plate unwilling to give and thus they rose up higher and higher. The Rockies. Just driving west through the flat plains and approaching these things takes your breathe away. Their HUGE - and its such an incredible contrast from the flatness of the midwest. I'll never tire of seeing the first glimpse of these mountains. I never tire of seeing much of anything when it comes to nature. I feel pretty lucky actually to be so awe inspired by something that is so easily attained. The Rockies are mountains in their most intense form. Sharp, young, raw, and unforgiving. They spit lightning at will and rain hail down unexpectedly simply to let you know who's in control in the relationship of the mountain verse the climber. I have a huge amount of respect for the mountains. You don't climb a mountain the mountain lets you climb it. If the mountain tells me to get off when it throws lightning at me or hail I tend to listen.....but on my first of a six day back pack trip I opted to go head on against the mountain - ignore its fickle rumblings and push myself despite the obvious fact the mountain had no interest in me scrambling up its face.

Chapter 2 - Day One

Rocky Mountain National Park holds the 15th tallest mountain in Colorado - Long's Peak - a sharp notched mountain housed neatly around neighbors towering at slightly lower elevations. I planned a six day, five night, 50 mile back country trek that would having me standing on top of the 14,256 foot peak on the last day. In fact each night I slept at elevations higher than 9,400 feet. The last night I slept on a rocky grass spot all the way up at 11,500 feet.

The hike started with a bang with a climb over 12,354 foot Flattop Mountain - I started too late for a mountain climb in the Rockies. Warm moist air bubbles up from the hot earth in the afternoons causing currents of air to rise 30,000 feet in a matter of an hour to produce treacherous thunderstorms. With still 2,000 feet to climb I notice small pea sized hail balls pelting me against my paper thin rain shell. The mountain was talking. He said turn the hell around. My campsite for that first night was on the other side of the mountain. I pushed on. The sky all around me began to darken a deep shade of black. I pushed on. Echoes of thunder rumbled like the gurgle of a hungry stomach and I kept climbing. Why was I ignoring the mountain's obvious message? I wanted to do this hike. I was foolish and lucky. As I climbed over Flat Top I saw flashes of lightning off in the distance - thunder rumbled. The mountain let me live and I thank it. However, after nearing my campsite for the night I realized I didn't have my trekking poles. Despite a 2 hour desperate back track search. I could not find them. I concluded the mountain took them - for letting me live - I excepted the trade.

Chapter 3 - My wallets gone!!

The Rocky Mountains are home to black bears and in order to camp in the back country you are required to put all items with any type of smell in a hard plastic bear canister to keep the bear out of your stuff. This includes all things that have scent - obviously food...but also sunscreen, soap, toothpaste, bug spray, lip balm, sponge, and all things associated with your food - pot and spoon, etc. For a five night stay I couldn't fit all my food and other smellys in the bear canister - so I committed the sin of putting those other things in a nylon water proof bag. These items are to be left 70 paces away from your campsite so incase Yogi comes by to investigate - he's well away from you. This is to be done at every campsite - and those that backpack know all about it and its no big deal.

I woke up the next morning hoping to get a fast start on the day. The break down ritual begins - after getting the bear canister and starting hot water for coffee comes stuffing the sleeping bag, airing out the sleeping pad and rolling it up, emptying the tent and organizing gear by the pack, cooking breakfast, cleaning the pot, brushing teeth, taking down tent, folding up ground cloth, finishing coffee and then carefully reorganizing the pack to distribute the weight of the gear in the most energy efficient way. This process was halted from the start however when I came upon my bear canister and noticed the bright orange stuff sack containing the other smelly items missing. The spoon which was carefully placed in the sack last was laying curiously on some moss a couple feet into the woods from the canister. Something took the bag. I became nervous...then relaxed - fuck it. All those things can be replaced very easily - lets not worry about this on only the second day of your trip. Then I remembered. Don't ask why - because I could not tell you - but also in the orange sack was my money clip - in the money clip - $48, license, credit card, debit card, AAA card, and health card. The forrest began to suffocate me. Chris McCandless might rejoice at such a situation as this, but not me. I freaked out. How can I get a new license out of state, credit card on the road? The other cards? - not to mention I really liked that damn money clip and would have to buy another one. I had to search - but for all I knew this primordial beast took the sack into his cave and was devouring sunscreen and tooth paste heckling and fussing in glee. I began to comb the forrest - but what direction could it have gone?! - anywhere really - I'm fucked - why in hell would I have put the money clip in there? Why hadn't I hung the bag? Why am I such an asshole? I glimpsed yellow in the needles! My first aid kit! Forgot that was in there. I look around for other things...Nothing. I marked the spot of the first aid kit to have a reference and looked around from this new point. Then as if the mountain forrest parted and sweet Mozart music rained down on me I spotted the orange sack with the contents strewn out of the ground - money clip there! In fact all that was lost was my freeze dried coffee. Some crazed caffeine critter is reeking havoc right now in Colorado.

Chapter 4 - Long's Peak

This mountain scared me. It was huge and the trail was steep. When I viewed the trail from far it looked impossibly steep. And after reading "Into the Wild" (twice just on this hike) my anxiety deepened thinking about how easily and unthinkable someone can parish in the wilderness. I had good details of the climb from a magazine article but It wasn't the main trail - I was hiking up the far less traveled south side - up a steep long shoot of loose talus at a dizzying angle. I started my last's day hike only a mile from the summit - but needed to climb nearly 3,000 feet of vertical height. Half way up the shoot at 8 in the morning cold rain began dumping down on me...the rocks began to get as slick as...well...wet rocks. I hunched under a rock ledge which provided minimal protection. FUCK ME. What am I doing on this sickeningly sick rock shoot in the rain?? My altimeter said I still at 1500 feet to climb. Doubt crept all over me. To turn back now was barely an option. But here again the mountain was talking. It said get off me. I waited out the rain - patiently listening to water pitter off the rock ledge onto my shoulder. An hour and a half later I was standing on top of Rocky Mountain National Park! When I realized there was no more up to go - a grin formed out of my chapped lips. Being on top of this mountain after the most grueling 50 mile hike I've ever been on nearly tops out as my favorite back packing experience. Clouds were covering me in their white mist only to quickly part and give me clear views of the snow spotted mountains all around me. To a mountain climber Long's Peak isn't much of a mountain, but it was my toughest and most satisfying. I even had the summit to myself, a rare circumstance considering the obsession of people to climb all the 14er's. The more traditional "Keyhole" Route up the north side of the mountain is often a conga line of climbers hoping to summit before afternoon thunderstorms. I'm so happy to be climbing mountains for the next 3 months. You have no idea. Upon climbing down the 12 mile 5000' decent I immediately got a cheese burger and got the Triple S (SSS) treatment at the Holiday Inn in Estes, CO (spa, swim, shower). Currently in Cheyenne, Wyoming..heading to Casper, WY tonight then off to the Wind River Range south east of the Tetons.

Cheers all!

Rippled Black Glass

"The true education of a probing mind occurs unexpectedly and in surroundings that could have been neither anticipated nor provided" - The Drifters

I'm sitting in library in Stirling, CO - Northeast corner of the state - I've been on a whirlwind of driving and camping...

Minnesota - I rented a kayak and canoed around in the boundary waters of northern Minnesota. I'm an ocean guy at heart but being in those boundary waters - floating in probably the cleanest water in the world stirs up euphoria unmatched to other experiences I've had. Not necessarily better then say being on top of a mountain...but on a different sort of standard. I want to explore so much more of this place. I'll come back with my own canoe and take two weeks to paddle and portage all the way up to Canada.

North Dakota - I burst into Fargo, ND in triumph as a entered my 47th state (for my life time). Oklahoma, Alaska, and Hawaii and the remaining states to take down. I see no reason to ever go back to North Dakota. Theodore Roosevelt national park was pretty much the same as Badlands NP of S. Dakota. It was HOT, dry, and miserable actually. I camped out in the flatlands amidst the sand towers and grass mesas that make up the badlands of the Dakotas. I was told I needed to pack out my poop and toilet paper despite the fact that buffalo get to crap all over the trail. Should I eat that mushroom neatly poking up from the buffalo stool? At all times I was at high alert for rattle snakes, black widow spiders, and prickly pear cactus. Upon seeing my first rattle snake on the 4 mile hike to my 'out of sight from the trail' campsite I jumped 3 feet in the air and high stepped speedily away. I needed to get out of North Dakota and quick.

South Dakota - I needed to get on top of a mountain. So I opted for the highest point east of the Rockies and West of the Pyrenees of Europe - Harney Peak in Custer State Park - 7,242 feet high. Custer State park is a gem - as far as rock formations go it should be a National Park. Its far better then the scorching badlands if you ask me. Purposefully I avoided Rushmore and Crazy Horse and hiked my first state high peak of the trip - though high points are always a zoo in their own way too - everyone wants to be up at the highest point.

Nebraska - "the good life..." Just drove through - too damn hot

Colorado - OFF to Rocky Mountain National Park!!