The CDT: Can the glacier get snow in June?

Part 1

Glacier National Park.

«The adventure is simply a bad planning.» «Rald Amundsen.»

Slap Chop, our friend of the Transportation Association and CDT, stopped in the parking lot on the border and the four we downloaded.

Toolman, with his Lite AF fills the smallest he could. Fried, with its reliable butterfly. A hole did not do it, despite its history. The ice cream also carried a butterfly, its inaugural trip had been the long path in 2023. The last one was not me, with my experimental Tiddy Aarn package, a strange beast with apparently too many bells and whistles and not sufficient exterior pocket space.

The northern CDT monument is right on the side of the Canada border, so we all pass through the Canadian border patrol, or whatever it is called, to obtain the image.^™. Despite our recent threats of conquest, the Canadians were friendly, launching jokes or small conversations as we passed.

We have the photo^™Then we said goodbye to pat and go to our first feet of the path that would take us to Mexico. Our permissions were crazy, and for more miles than we could just get out of the couch, and a storm was starting, but none of us seemed to care. I am sure that everyone had our own reasons.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I wanted the randomness that would surely follow the complete and total annihilation of the plan.^™.

The plan^™ It was Gable Creek> Poia Lake> St. Mary> Morning Star> East Glacier. Gable Creek had only six miles, so we got so far without problems.

A relentless cold rain began the next day and we went to Poia to many Lodge glacier, where, miraculously, we got a room for a good price, around $ 75 each for a room with two queens.

Many Glacier Lodge, a great old hotel perched on the shore of the Swiftcurrent lake, was beaten together in 1914-15 by the large Northern Railway to attract tourists to the wild glaciers, like an elegant bait for adventure addicts. Modeling after the Swiss chalets with their wood framed expansion, once it had 240 rooms, which made it the largest hotel in Montana in the past. A national historical milestone since 1987, renovations that cost $ 42 million since 2001-2017 have been seen, accelerating rustic vibrations without losing that crunchy charm. Today, it is a glacier shelter: it is soaked after the trail in the massive glow of the lobby chimney, the murderous views of Grinnell Glacier and a buffet that feeds the big days of miles. Visitors go into mass to see wildlife (Grizzlies, alces) and epic paths like iceberg lake, but book early; As the competition is high for CDT initiators dodging storms.

The night we stayed there was a sheet, and what Ulito was. A lot of amateur music, a great fire in front of a larger window and a bigger view of the lake and the mountains beyond. We ate well, we rest well, we ate the Buffet breakfast of Pseudo-Gas and went directly to the storm. The Almighty Permissions System said we had to try, so we tried.

We were rewarded by our idiocy with a relentless cold rain, a friendly mooring encounter and a sliding show, put by Toolman.

We crossed our first large snow bridge without incident or microSpikes, something good, since the end of the snow bridge ended in what seemed to be a cliff. Toolman was first and then continued with a very tight moron. He was not aware of the conditions of the fools of fried or ice cream, but they and their ankle boots were also made.

The snow and the small pieces of hail fell harder now, and the wind began to throw this precipitation on our faces. We put our chin and step on the next snow bridge.

Toolman tried again without peaks, but I had stopped to put mine; My tight muscles were fatigued. The ice cream followed his example, Fito kept his eyes on Toolman. While I put on my spikes, fried let out a strong shout dyed true concern, «Toolman!»

Toolman was sliding down the mountain. Fortunately, there were many trees, and could stop about twenty feet on the slope. He dragged just to slide back to his saviors^™. «Put your spikes!» Frito shouted. Toolman was already, and soon moved up, still ahead of the rest of us.

The rest of the Piegan road was a snowstorm. Wind, rain, snow and aguanieve, sometimes through derivations on a deep foot, but above all not as bad as that.

Up and again we went, going through the elevation gain of ~ 2,000 feet of Peegan Pass. The back of the mountain was better, and the snow returned to cold rain.

We created, but the fun was not over. My friend, said Legend, calls the wet plants that are aligned after a rain or a dew of «ball shit»^™. There is a background story that is not immediately relevant. However, Ballshit is a good name for it, and there was a lot of ball shit on the road down. When we got to the road, we were soaked and trembling.

The plan^™ It was completely abandoning the original plan. We would change in more dry clothes in the shit of the nearby road, and cook and eat there if possible, then walk/hook St. Mary’s where we would camp. Our permission was still on the way to sleep there that night, so it made sense.

We could not eat in shit or warm up for the case. One of the two poop houses was out of service, which means that motorists with mature and ready intestines would always be delivery. Some did, and they looked at us disbelief while we all went to the world as uncomfortably as Turds, but at least now we were a little drier, having abandoned our wet shirts for fleeons.

We started walking/hooking and in a few minutes a ranger in a van took us to the city. Fito said that his prayers of thanks to Herman as we advanced and that the rest of us gave him to think at that time.

However, we were aware of one thing. That St. Mary’s would be the end of our permission, and that our condemned itinerary was officially roasted.

None of us had the desire to go through the newly fallen snow, and if the cameras in Logan Pass were an indication, we could not stick to the high days required to remain on the road.

Then, the next day, we walk on the 89 highway without too much plan.

The 89 highway passes through the Blackfoot territory on its way to East Glacier. The Blackfeet (Piegan, Blood, Siksika Bands), Legendary Warriors, ruled the plains with horses of the 1700s, assaulting rivals such as Shhoshone and Crow. The collision of two medications 1806 by Lewis and Clark killed two patch on stolen guns, which caused tension. Nez Perce once confused Clark with Blackfeet, fearing his fierce representative. Today’s reserve faces violent crime 3 times the national average (10-15% assault), linked to poverty and historical trauma. Resilient, they revive culture through community programs. Walkers: Respect the limits in your land. My old Hitchhiker habits told me that I could sneak into a high grass and sleep patch, which means that in theory we could walk all the way, but this plan was abandoned after sharing it, along with the reputation in the battle of the black leaf with fried.

«The terrifying warriors, still known for their capacity for violence until today, and are these people with whom we are going to move?» Fito gave his hands in question. The sarcasm practically drips from his fingers. We laughed, but he was right, it was probably not the best idea. For me, I was sleeping on the side of the road; For him he was invading native lands, spitting the already historically oppressed with another microcolonization.

Thousands along the way, Toolman was far ahead. He has a kind of rigid leg deck that pumps his lean frame through the earth much faster than ice cream or I care. Frito is in the middle. Walk the speed of whoever wants to speak more, or else finds a lonely place in the middle to think or listen … whatever listening.

I wanted a break. The ice cream and I sat in our placebo pads (foam sleeping pads) and we saw that the already distant tool shrinks even more. Frito followed him. A truck stopped, fried entered, my phone rang. «Hey! This guy will take us back to Luna. He says he can return to get you and then get Toolman.»

Ice cream and I shared a look. We were not ready to throw in the towel. «Continue. We will find a glass.»

He asked if we were sure, we said we were.

The truck stopped in Toolman. Frito came out and sat down. When the ice cream and I arrived at them, Toolman said: «We need a plan.»

I said: «I’m fine with the concept of a plan. A Trumpish Plan.»

Frito laughed between teeth and Toolman said: «I am the guy who needs a solid plan.»

«I am at home here. I was in suitcases on the highways ten years before I were,» I said. I didn’t care to find much plan. Things tend to happen to me, whenever I do my best.

The ice cream said: «There is a camp ahead. Maybe we can stay there.»

Apparently, this was enough for Toolman, and we welded until we reached what could have been the most shit sign in the world. He said the 1/4 mile camp, and pointed to the left by a side road. We sit in the railing and hope that pain in our feet will decrease while we talk about the camp. We thought it seemed a scam after registering it on Google, but we decided to try anyway. The ice cream began to brow people, and a young couple, maybe Blackfoot, in a truck stopped.

«Where are they going?»

I approached the truck. «Do you know anything about this camp?»

The driver shook his head. «All I know is that it is new.»

«Do you know the owner? Any idea of whether it is shit?»

He shook his head again. «Jump in the back. Let’s see it.»

There was a bit of spike wire that blocked the entrance to the «camp», which was nothing more than a gravel lot and a construction. One hundred yards away, a boy was putting. I whistled, and when he looked up I shouted: «Do you open?»

The guy shook his head. Our driver spoke to me through his lateral view. «Do you want to go to East Glacier? To the place all the hikers are going?»

I looked at the ice cream. She was the purest, but she had told me that she had loosened for the CDT. She nodded; I told our driver that we would be grateful for the return trip.

And so, we were back to look at glass. The vortex, El Salvador, the trash paradise of the hiker and soon closed. Temporarily? Who knows? Not this guy. But we were at home for now, and I felt sick. Throat pain, cough, congested nose, difficult to breathe and tired. After the store was installed, I collapsed and did not leave.

The ice cream and I decided zero to rest. The boys (who would be fried and Toolman) thought about getting hooked to close the gap that we had not been able to walk, but we decided not to do it for their own reasons.

The new and improved plan^™ It was zero so that I could try not to die, then walk to two medications (yes, the same fucking place we obtained our permits) to look at glass, camp there (Toolman assured us that we do not need a permission for that camp. Spoiler, we did), then return to East Glacier and finally we go south to get the desert of Bob Marshall.

Naturally, the new and improved plan was also a total disaster. But that is a story for part 2.

Unless they have been given express permission for use, all the names and names of trails have been changed in my articles. Any similarity with real people is a coincidence. If you enjoy my writing, do not hesitate to subscribe or buy me a coffee with the tip of the author’s button.