Falling in love on a highway

Day 18. July 5th. Cars are speeding past on the highway and I am desperate for bits of shade while the sun is beating down on me without mercy. I’ve been dreading this day. There is no shoulder. Again and again I have to step off the road into the bushes to avoid incoming traffic.

The continental divide trail in fact isn’t always a trail but includes lots of road walking. Going sobo, the first road section is heading into the town of anaconda. And boy oh boy, I was looking forward to everything that was waiting for me there: new socks, a cold soda, a juicy burger, the biggest ice cream sandwich I can find. And even something as atrocious as a place to sit down and relax.

I’m thirsty, sun burned, tired. But there’s a bounce in my step, I’m not walking, I’m flying over the concrete at almost 4 mph.

It makes no sense but it’s exactly on this dusty highway, that the CDT finally starts to feel like a thru hike. I’m excited. For the first time in 400 miles, I‘m looking forward to what’s ahead.

While I’m climbing over discarded tires in a ditch, avoiding incoming traffic, I realize how absurdely privileged I am to be out here. To disconnect from society (whatever that is?). To live outside for 5 months. To be fit and healthy. To be brave enough to leave my career behind, burn my savings and say „no mum, I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t have time for that“.

Where are the hikers?

With a pair of fresh socks in my pack and fast food in my belly, I unlock the little hiker hut. There’s one additional thing, that adds a layer of „thru hike“ to this stop along the CDT: A brown, wooden shack meant for thru hikers. A little oasis kindly provided by the locals of Anaconda. To my disappointment, it’s empty. No hiker trash around. But a box of discarded gear, some skittles and bicycles leaning in a corner!

I spread all my belonging across the table when I heard a knock on the door. „Oh“, I wasn’t aware of someone hiking right behind me?

I open the door, „Pinecone!“. The two hikers know my name? For a moment I’m confused, the  sunlight outside is blinding me, before I recognise Popeye and Ravenclaw. A couple I had met in Glacier a few weeks ago. Broad smiles. It‘s good to see familiar faces. We catch up and turns out they haven’t been hiking with others. The trail is pretty empty.

„The bubble is still a week behind us“, Ravenclaw explains. „Oh“ That’s not what I expected. A whole week? Disappointment dampens my good mood. I love being alone, I love hiking alone. There’s no better feeling than watching the sunset on a ridge and feel like this whole wilderness belongs to me alone.

Or at least that’s how it used to be. Something else changed on Day 18: I realized I don’t want to be alone. Or to be more precise, I want to hike with other people. I miss Daybreak, who’s too many days ahead. 

But who’s out there? Who‘s a good match, a good friend, a person I can trust?