Day 15: Welcome to Idaho!

July 30: I woke up and hit the trail a bit after 6:30am. I might have lingered later except the bugs were terrible and the sooner I got moving, the sooner they would stop annoying me.

A little way up the trail, I hit the first trail register on the trail and saw that there was a hiker named Skeeter who signed in the day before. Perhaps this was the hiker the trail angel I met yesterday dropped off on the trail head of me? I couldn't tell if I was hiking faster or slower than Skeeter, though, and had no idea if I'd cross paths with her.

The trail continued upward, eventually reaching Cauck Peak about two hours into my day's hike where I discovered a tent set up behind some trees.

"Hey!" I shouted out. "How's it goin'?!"

The mysterious tent of Cauck Peak

I wondered if it was Skeeter who I knew signed the register just the day before. There wasn't a time of day listed for when the register was signed. If it was late in the day, she might have stopped and camped here. The views were certainly nice!

But I heard nothing but silence from the tent. Was it someone who died? A really deep sleeper?

"Is anyone in there?" I asked, not quite as loudly in case they really were trying to sleep despite the sun already being up for a couple of hours. It sounded like someone in the tent rolled over but--again--there was no reply.

Hmm.... Maybe it was Skeeter--a woman--hiking alone and didn't want to engage in a conversation with a weird guy she didn't know in the middle of nowhere?

Whoever it was, it seemed clear at this point they wanted nothing to do with me so I stopped for a quick snack break then continued onward. I never did find out who was in the tent or what they were doing out there. I could still say that I hadn't seen a single hiker on the trail since leaving Eureka--but I did finally pass one! I was a little disappointed that they didn't want to chat, though. Especially if it might have been another thru-hiker which seemed like a good possibility.

The Montana-Idaho border was near!

Later in the  morning, I approached the Montana-Idaho border. I pulled out my GPS and zoomed in as far as it would go to pinpoint exactly where I crossed the border. There was no official sign or anything marking the point which seems like a missed opportunity; when I identified the crossing with my GPS, I drew a line across the trail and made my own photo op.

I've crossed the border!

About 15 seconds further down the trail, I saw a board that someone had place on the ground next to the trail marking the MT-ID border. I wondered if that's where their GPS sent them or if they just estimated where the border was located.

Another hiker left this on the side of the trail a hundred or so feet away from my marker.

At the border, I changed timezones and needed subtract an hour from my devices, but it wasn't a priority. Out in the wilderness like this, knowing the actual time was useless. My day revolved around sunrise and sunset--not by clocks. With each passing day, the daylight hours became a couple of minutes shorter. My start times would gradually shift later and later in the mornings while my ending times would gradually shift earlier and earlier. Hiking westbound, the daylight hours as a whole would shift later in the day, but slower than the daylight hours were shrinking. I was losing daylight hours in the morning faster than I was losing them in the evening. Not that I could notice the difference from one day to the next, but after two weeks, I definitely noticed a difference!

From there, the trail descended 3,000 feet toward the Moyie River. Temperatures soared as the elevation plunged and by the time I reached the bottom, I was sweating bullets and loathing the sun. It was so hot and humid....

At the bottom, the trail came out at a trailhead off Moyie River Road. The trailhead, I was pleased to note, included covered picnic tables and I was thrilled to lay down for a break at one. A family of three were picnicking at the other one and seemed surprised to see me come from off the trail from seemingly the middle of nowhere, dirty and grimy and looking homeless. When they found out that I had hiked there all the way from the east side of Glacier National Park, though, they were full of questions about the trail that I was happy to answer. I was happy to have an actual conversation with people! I was getting lonely on the trail.

Covered picnic tables! What a wonderful place to escape from the burning heat of the sun!

Eventually I continued onward--and the beginning of the road walk section of today's hike. It started as one of those awful paved roads and I took a 1/4-mile detour to the Feist Creek Falls resort which my guidebook described as "a hiker friendly bar/restaurant and lodge." I couldn't wait for a cold Coke and a burger with fries. I'd been saving myself for an epic meal that I hadn't been carrying on my back for most of week! It was going to be a late lunch and early dinner.

But when I arrived, the doors were locked, nobody appeared to be inside and a help wanted sign stood in a window outside. Whaaat....? I looked through the windows with disappointment. Nobody. There was absolutely nobody around that I could find.

The Fiest Creek Falls Resort

I sat down at a bench outside next to a small pond. It was a nice place to take a break despite the disappointment. I ate some snacks from my pack in place of the burger I had hoped to order, threw out some trash (in a nearby trash bin) and filled up my water bottles from a spigot on the side of the building.

Rested and refreshed--but still disappointed about the locked doors--I returned back to the trail. From here, the road turned gravel (yeah!) and I followed it a few miles across the valley bottom before I reached the trailhead for Bussard Mountain.

It was the end of the road walk and my minimum goal for the day, but I still felt strong and there was plenty of daylight so I decided to push onward--despite the fact that the next few miles included a 3,000-ft climb up Bussard Mountain.

I think it was a good call, though. It was late enough in the afternoon that the entire east-facing slope was in the shade allowing me to hike up without the sun pounding down mercilessly. The day was hot and hiking uphill on a hot day in the sun is horrible.

View looking down from partway up Bussard Mountain. The Fiest Creek Falls Resort can actually be seen in the photo if you know where to look. (Just to the left of the white building a little left of center.)

I made it most of the way up the mountain before stopping late in the afternoon--and a little earlier than I planned on. I reached a small, grassy clearing that looked absolutely wonderful for camping and couldn't be sure if I'd find anywhere better than that up ahead.

So I stopped and set up camp. There was no water at the camp, but I packed for a long dry stretch by filling up all of my water bottles. I was prepared for a "dry camp."

My streak of setting distance and step count records stopped at two. Today was a big day--at 21.7 miles, it was my second-longest day on the trail. Only yesterday was longer! And my step count came in at 57,452 steps--and again, second only to yesterday's step counts. But today's terrain was considerably more difficult with a lot more ups and downs so I was pleased with my progress.

Sunrise! And it was already getting hot....

The first register on the PNT!

I see you, Idaho!

WTF?

It might not be obvious, but we've entered Idaho! It looks a lot like the terrain we've been passing through in Montana.

Moyie River