Totally into Tetons? A famous alternate begs planning and decision making.

Day 32

Fred and I are sitting in front of the laundry room which has been our main hangout spot. Water, outlets, bathroom, shade. Phil’s massive pickup rolls onto the motel parking lot and two hikers climb out: Mr Robot and Niccolo! Hikertrash party.

The 4 of us grab lunch at the diner and throw ideas and plans around. The Teton alternate, famous for including another national park into the cdt thru hike, but also known for cross country hiking, bushwhacking and scrambling. We share GPX files and routes, but after our plates are empty, we are not any further with the planning. Is it worth it? Taking the detour, the planning, missing a part of the official CDT?

This trail just isnt as straight forward as just following a line on the map. All the alternates and side quests make the CDT more of a DIY adventure.

Day 33

I climbed over a gate and I am re-tying my laces when a man on an ATV appears. He gets out to open the gate. „You’re hiking like the guy behind?“, I nod , „you’re way ahead of him“ „I’m faster“. He laughs in a friendly way and walks off. I notice a handgun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. „I’ll never get used to this“, I think. But there’s one thing I learned about the locals by now: strong women aren’t frowned upon here.

Day 34

Slowly breaking down

I‘m rubbing my eyes while turning the alarm off. Another bad nights sleep. The wind has been tucking at my tent until I got fed up. I unzipped the mosquito net and pulled out the trekking pole, that was holding my tent up. I just let the fabric collapse over me and went back to sleep.

Now it’s 06:10 and I should be hiking already. But I’m lethargic, sorting through my things so slowly. My feet need taping. I don’t think it helps much but I have to try.

They hurt now. All the time, no longer just at the end of the day. I’ve noticed the pain changes my gait and that will eventually cause my muscles to become stiff. But for some reason I can’t explain, I just keep going anyways.

The trail climbs through meadows and forests. The US sheep experiment is conducted in the area, notorious for its over protective herd dogs. But all I can hear is their faint „määäääh“ somewhere in the distant. No dogs and no humans in sight.

When the boys and I were in Lima, we were joking that we had just bad luck with the peak of the biting flies and it will all get better now. Of course the nobos coming up the trail told us it will get worse. But I do think it’s not as bad anymore? Maybe I just got used to them sitting on my exposed legs and hands, sucking my blood until I smack them and their dead bodies fall off.

Nap or just sleep?

The heat hasn’t gotten better though and around 2 pm, I surrender. On a ridge, tucked between some small trees for shade, I decide to pitch my tent. Haul myself inside and almost immediately pass out. I’ll hike the remaining 10 miles in the evening.

It’s 5 pm when I wake up and I feel not the tiniest bit energised. Can I just stay here? I look at my bear can. I definitely can’t. I’m already short on food for tomorrow.

The CDT follows a beautiful, grassy ridge, covered in lots and lots of wild flowers. Blue, yellow, red, purple. While our water sources are scarce in the Idaho-Montana section, nature is thriving. It’s almost dark when I pitch my tent somewhere before the Blair lake junction. I did not hike 10 more miles.

Day 35

South of Lima, the CDT passes the Mack‘s Inn cut off (blue line) but after scouting the comments on farout about the red line (official CDT), I decide to stick to that.

A beautiful canyon and Targhee pass, two things that are music to my ears. Way more tempting than a road walk and a burger.

But my stomach growls by the thought of food.

Hell Roaring Canyon is towered by orange cliffs on both sides. The bushes left and right of the water will be ripe with berries in just a few weeks. But to my disappointment the CDT climbs out of the canyon almost immediately and after Raynolds Pass, I’m back on a long, exposed, dirt road through meadows. It’s taking forever just to get to the base of Targhee pass. This whole time there’s been a lack of switchback in the Montana-Idaho section and now, going up the pass, they seemed to never end. I stop counting eventually.

Raw flesh is pressing painfully against the back of my shoe. I can feel a blister on my heel that has ripped. The last water source of the day is dry when I get there. I’m hungry but I already ate my ration for the day. Hiking is hard.

By the time I finally make it up the pass, the view isn’t even that impressive. I frown.

At least there are good camp spots, tucked between some rocks and small pines. Promising a good sunrise as a reward. I’m already wrapped in my quilt when I hear steps outside. I’ve started to differentiate between heavy and light steps, heavy means interesting.

I carefully lift the rainfly of my tent, trying to make as little noise as possible. But that wouldn’t have been necessary, because I’m looking right into the eyes of a massive mountain goat. „Hi buddy“, I exclaim but he just turns away and keeps investigating the ground. For a while I watch him in awe. Maybe these hard days are worth it?

I mean I’m sitting in my sleeping spot, watching a mountain goat on a pass. Tomorrow I’ll be in West Yellowstone. Eating ice cream. Maybe treat myself to a cheap hotel room.

Today was hard, but it was also great.