The Continental Divide Trail: How is Bob Marshall?

Part 2

The Bob Marshall

«A good traveler has no fixed plans and does not intend to arrive.» – Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

Dogleg, one of the people’s ice cream and I met at the end of the AZT, was in a glass base camp. He moves, which is good, since it is a source of good advice and magic of bringing both. He told me that I knew someone who left the CDT due to Covid, while I sat outside in a plastic chair, treating social distance, wrapped in my fleece lining, with Covid, probably. They never tested me, but the symptoms coincided; I couldn’t smell anything for one, and I felt like death on the other.

I was one of the first guinea pigs for the vaccine, and in the course of two or three years it probably received five doses. I just received them when I get the flu vaccine. Easy Peasy. But he was not vaccinated now, and had collected the error somewhere. No one escapes forever, and Covid is part of life now, such as cold or flu.

Darkly, I only allowed myself a zero before joining the rest of my tramily for the walk to two medications. It was a short walk, only ten miles. How bad could it be?

On the climb on the slopes of Mount Henry, my mantra was: «I can breathe, I can breathe, breathe, breathe.» I could barely. My backpack felt that I was loaded with rocks and misery, my body was lead, my lungs, death. Like Smaug del Hobbit, it could produce a list of all parts of me that were not good. The boys had gone a long time ago, far ahead, but the ice cream watched from behind while zombaba through the mountain. I let my hands be released on the sides, less effort in that way, in some way, and I swing from one place to another. Among irregular breaths sometimes I imagine lying down and dying. Melodramatic, yes, but also a tempting thought at that time.

In fact, that thought was so tempting that I did my best to do that exactly. I didn’t even remove my backpack, I sat in half, half used to me and did nothing more. If I hadn’t felt so horrible, I would have been the most relaxed I had felt. I had no energy for any muscle tension. Just breathing. The ice cream, the angel, the perfect one, sat down and shaded me with his umbrella and stirred the flies when they landed on my face. If there was ever a reason not to bed and die, she would be.

The beginning of death worked well, and after a while I could get up and go again. He helped most of the climb was over. There was a blue fire near Henry’s summit, but we passed it. That stretch is already beautiful enough. Later came the sheep Baby Bighorn and their irregular -looking mothers, their winter coats still cling to June. The sheep on this path are accustomed to people, and barely shudder when hikers pass.

Below, to the road and two medications shortly after. He looked different from what he had the first time. The little cabin of the ranger was there, and without a doubt the besieged Ranger Marcy was inside trying to solve the dreams of the hikers for very little salary. We do not enter. Toolman said we didn’t need permits for this camp, after all.

Instead, we enter the camp and try to find the places reserved for visitors without vehicles. There are some. Certainly, the boys would be there, already configured. They were not. After an hour to circulate and not find them, and did not receive any response from our Garmin messages, we decided to talk to Marcy after all.

I was there, about to close, with the hope of lunch, late hours. In spite of that, she offered to help us, since two medications require, in fact, permits, even for sites without prior appointment. We told him to eat his lunch, and that we would return to the east glacier. It was half a dozen or the other for us, and Marcy was too sweet to take advantage.

Before leaving, we walk the short distance to the camp store. Toolman and fried were there. They had been there for a while, they had never visited two medications. It was obvious that ice cream and I were salty like the sea about this, but in the end, it was not a big problem. I just took a note to not count on them for the equipment related to the team if they were in the front, what would undoubtedly be.

Under a tacit truce flag, the four went back, once again, to the glass look. I was starting to feel a fly attached to the flying paper. Almost one hundred miles walked and we were still at the beginning.

I was still coughing a lung, so we returned to zero. It is possible that children are not too proactive, but they are good and loyal friends.

The next day we went to Bob. Still sick but capable of breathing better, I returned to my old mantra, stronger every day. He gave me through the band’s syndrome and now it would take me through Covid now.

Bob Marshall does not start immediately. Two days of basic forests of the north. The Bob Marshall desert, named for the conservation pioneer Bob Marshall who advocated preserving vast natural areas in the 1930s, covers more than one million Backcontry acres of Montana Pristine. Established in 1964 under the Wilderness Law, it forms the heart of a larger complex of 1.5 million acres that includes the large wild bear and scapegoat areas, all maintained as areas without road where motor vehicles are prohibited, allowing only to travel on foot, horse or mule.

Typical Bob

Apart from that, they are something like two days of East Glacier for average hikers (hello, it’s me, average hiker). The intermediate space is not memorable at all, except that Toolman fell again, going, as described, with his ass on tea tea. In a steep and muddy slope, he slipped. This time he was a few steps behind me. Once again I heard Fito say: «Toolman!» He turned to see that, somehow, he had slipped into the mud and then threw the hill. Again, the plants were his friends, and some thick shrubs caught him. He left, brushed, reviewed his team and released without injuries or complaints, as always.

Most hikers know him as the place with bad blows. For us it was not. Maybe the voice was run and the Bois chainsaw appeared. Maybe they were extraterrestrials. Nothing is 100% sure, therefore, the less parsimonious explanations have the same weight as the most sensible, Amirita?

However, the Bob has a load of stream crossings, and since Glacier had been constantly wet, we walked the first 200 miles of paths with wet feet. Splish, crushed.

Apart from the Chinese wall, which is much more great in person than in the photos, I do not remember the Bob so well. I was moody and sick. I fell in another death time once, and again the ice cream took the lead with the camp configuration, navigation and maintenance of the manual flow. There were some beautiful views, I remember it, and a girl who is named after the legumes, and another who judged the ice cream for wearing a bear instead of a USack. The legumes were sweet and memorable, Judge Dread was not.

Part of the Chinese wall

There were also sporadic cabins of rangers where the cowboy camp on the porch is allowed the gray area, and where, wonderfully, they can be found privately.

We deviate in our first «alternative» starting the lasting trend (for ice cream and at least) to enrut ourselves with Gaia instead of sucking the maternal tetin of Farout.

There were many burned lands, a little rain, and a bit of thunder and lightning (very, very scary. Galileo). The flies abounded and attacked in legions every time we stopped. I counted at least eight different species that crawled at any time, most did not bit. They simply dragged and gave unpleasant kisses and Ticketly with their tube.

A group of army veterans on horseback went to a water source. Everyone wore western team, and most wore weapons. They were Chads, his horses were Chads, his weapons were Chads. The name of one was actually Chad, and the Azt had walked when the ice cream and I did it, although we never met him.

Sometimes, the ice cream and I caught the children, we could even walk with them for a while before the Toolman machine step took it. Toolman is 99% sure that a wolf spent his store one night while camping alone. There was a lot of sound, and a new dog impression too big to be a dog.

Then, without much warning, there was a parking lot. A small cardboard sign said: «CDT Trail Magic.» The children were already in Augusta, Mt. the ice cream and I planned to get there the next day, so we went to see the magic of the path.

There are moments in life where I feel simultaneously surprised and not surprised at the same time. This was one of those times. The magic of the path was, of course, Dogleg and Trip from the AZT, and half a dozen of other great people. Dogleg had a campist configuration and was organizing a group of tired hikers. He took drinks, became sauteed and hot dogs. Herman’s blessing on him.

Other fresh people were also there, such as Spruce Goose, trying to be the first woman to walk in a continuous line from Tierra del Fuego at the southern end of Argentina to the top of Alaska. Having reached the CDT and following it «since it was convenient,» he was doing a great job. He had been working on the project since something like 2017 and had dealt with the world closure of Covid, Mexican posters, dangerous jungles and who knows what else. He also had a dog, the chicken inspector, whom he had collected specifically for this trip. The dog knew nothing more. If I ever have the opportunity to reincarnate, I want to be a dog that belongs to someone like Spruce Goose.

Based on Dogleg’s quality information, along with bangs for breakfast, ice cream and I decided to camp nearby and hook a Augusta in the morning. As my grandfather used to say, «Why do it now when you can do it later?» A wise man.

We leave, we talk, we laugh, sleep, and in the morning we enter Augusta with a man with a thousand -yard look and a gun, but that is a story for part 3.

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.