I like the big butes – the walk

Day 23

From our stealthy place along a gravel road, we walk the 3 miles of the road to the road where we plan to hook ourselves in Butte. He took me more than an hour before a young woman and her dog stopped for us and took us to the back seat of their truck. Ariel was very nice and such a great girl. His dog’s name was Gremlin and we laughed at how that was the nickname I used for my dog Rei. While we headed towards the city, we disclose in our shared interests (archery, hunting) even Arizona for hunting trips and asked questions about the game that would hunt, where I would go and how difficult it was to hunt with an arc. She was a character who said: «It is good that there is a girl in your group. It probably facilitates hitch.» I laughed under my breath because I was the worst of the three: Hamburglar, Plan B and I to hook me.

She had the kindness of leaving us in the post office where we had packages to collect. We plan to grab our boxes, eat something, replenish for Whitehall and send two boxes ahead, one to West Yellowstone and another to Flagg Ranch, just southwest Yellowstone. We had breakfast in a restaurant on the other side of the street of a Safeway, but after eating our aids the size of a cowboy and before our replenishment, we spent an hour deliberating on our maps to create routes and plans for Big Sky to the tetons and return to the CDT. We did everything we had planned, but on our way back to the post office, we saw signs for a Chinese buffet and decided to stay a few more hours in the city to fill our faces. Anything we did our faces. I made the food worth every penny that I paid and I could feel the stretch of the elastic in my shorts for the first time since I started this walk.

Even so, when we finished enjoying too much Chinese food, it was 4 pm our day of heroes (hooked inside and outside the city) was quickly becoming a day of Nero. To solidify the Nero even more, Hamburglar had called one of his friends of the At – Cowboy – who lived in the area. It turned out, he lived right in Butte. After dinner, Hamburglar told us that the cowboy would pick us up, take us home for a shower if I needed it, then it would take us to Butte and wherever we had to go.

What was badly communicated to us was that Cowboy worked 2 hours away and would not be around 6 or so. But we hope anyway in the park from the post office. I drew some wet equipment and loaded my phone under the dinner. Plan B lies on the floor of the roundabout and Burgs sat on a table chatting.

Finally, Cowboy rolled in his truck and with a bit of reorganization of palette boards and camping equipment, we throw our things and go to his house where he offered us showers, laundry, food and drink. It was a good host. I threw my suny hood in washing and used my fleece. I had obtained a new bamboo hoodie in Helena because my synthetic hood of mountain hardware bets on Bo quickly took advantage of the comforts and Cowboy had even provided loan clothes to plan B that looked like a total tourist in the button for short and blue Hawaiian blue.

We all returned to Cowboys Truck, and our tour began. He explained that Butte was home to the first bomb of the city. We have done it on the well, which we expected to see, wanting to know more about toxic waters and if the bird snipe was real. We had heard that a sniper was hired specifically to tear down birds that fly to water to avoid the spread of toxins if the bird lands in the well and tries to fly. Cowboy confirmed our suspicions, but said they got rid of the sniper and now have air canons on the well. He also explained that the well was full of copper deposits and was slowly filled with toxic water.

With views of East Butte and the well to the left of the photo

Cowboy told him that he had family in the area and had news of others, and had also confirmed that the rate of conditions such as EM and other autoimmune diseases was much higher in the area supposedly due to the toxicity of the well. Naturally, I questioned the safety of drinking water, but the answer was not super clear.

Cowboy also confirmed that the statue of Santa María was higher than Lady Liberty, but that the statue of freedom is on a pedestal, which makes it look higher. And in the spirit of size, Butte was a city much larger than Chicago in the past. It was also the largest city in the West until the well took over most of the earth.

When we went out to the old mines, we knew that Bert Mooney, from Butte, was the first man to fly the email to Yellowstone. Hence Bert Mooney airport. We reach a large metal frame of a building, properly called a head frame. On the side «high mile, mile deep» was written. The mine was placed on a hillside of more than 5000 feet high (one mile high) and the mine dug 1 mile on the ground. Cowboy said his grandfather at one time knew routes between different mines, all under the city and could walk miles underground between places.

We ended the night visiting a bar with the Pisser Palace, and we had dinner at M&M. Although Cowboy offered to buy us Bear at the Pisser Palace, the smell of the street and the name of the bar made me think better about accepting the offer. Nor did I accept his kind offer of buying dinner at M&M, a historic restaurant that served breakfast all day. I was still too stuffed with Chinese. The restaurant was placed next to a hole in the Earth, which turned out to be the old M&M building that had been burned. Then they turned the carbonized land into a kind of sidewalk museum and moved to the side.

The old M&M location

It was late when we finished eating. Although the sky was still brilliant, it was almost 9 PM Cowboy took us back to the beginning of the path and we installed our tents in the light that fades, using our headlights for the last moments of configuring and preparing for the bed.

Day 24

The next day, we push to Whitehall. Our first official city of the alternative. I got up early and left the boys a little stunned from all the food I had eaten the day before. It smelled like fast food and, in general, I felt the swelling of my fingers of the entire sodium.

In addition to feeling swollen, I also felt frustrated by the lack of miles we had done the day before. I was really happy to have seen Cowboy and was grateful for the many opportunities to eat, but I felt the pressures of time in each Nero and Zero we took. He came here with the aim of walking quickly and far and had already declined a bit early for the rodeo. But now that everyone was staying back taking different alternates, I no longer felt the need to go slowly. I wanted to keep moving. Together with some other factors that will not be discussed publicly, I felt horrible enough to consider going home.

The aggravated feeling throughout the day as we crossed more on the path than the path, were bombarded by silk worms that hung from almost all the trees on the path, leaked water from a cow channel and I had a handful of cars on the final walk towards Whitehall. This path began to feel like a festival to walk along the way instead of a walk and I felt the internal conflict.

The Aca Salvadoras for the day were an older man who grabbed us outside the city and left us in the family dollar and met Virgin Extra, our first novo, in the two -bit room. We chat for a long time. It was good to have a new company and obtain its perspective on the debate between who would win a race, Usain Bolt or Joey Chesnut, if the race ate a hot dog and then ran 100 meters. I felt the answer was easy. Usain Bolt would still win because the disparity of time between eating a fast singular hot dog and running 100 meters of fasting was greatly in favor of Usain Bolt. But then the following question persisted, how many hot dogs would they have to eat before the race to give Joey the opportunity to win?

We are camped in the green space along the main road of the city. There was a cenor, where Virgin and Plan B vaquían, but chose to launch my tent in the soft grass. It was so thick and lush that I didn’t even use my sleeping pad, I just slept in the comfort of the soft grass. It was pleasant until it was not. The sound of the trucks that pass at night did not bother me a little. But around 2 in the morning, when the sprinklers entered and criticized to the side of my store, that sure woke me up. And it prevented me from returning to sleep while the pressure washed the side of my store once every minute while turning in circles. At least I had closed store doors. Burgs was not so lucky.

Sunset from my store in the park

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