CDT: Mosquitoes and Magic on our way to Butte

After Helena, we return to the rugged wilderness, battling the relentless Montana weather and pesky mosquitoes along the way. We experience a mix of excitement and monotony as we navigate road walks and blowdowns, but also delightful encounters that serve as a reminder of the kindness that exists on the CDT. The days culminate in a much-anticipated arrival in Butte, where we indulge in delicious food and celebrate the Fourth of July.

CDT Day 22 — Hot muggy buggy

Today, we’re nearoing out of Helena, looking forward to the trail after this delightful town stop. Then we walk to the US 12 to get a hitch out of town back to the trail, but I’m not very confident about this. Larger towns often complicate our attempts to escape back to the wilderness, but we’re optimistic. Armed with a cardboard sign, we position ourselves near a grocery store, hoping for some good fortune. Before long, Jim pulls up, and we jump in, relieved to have a ride all the way to the turnoff for the yellow alternate route, which helps us avoid the fuel mitigation closure on the CDT. We opt for the yellow line, a choice recommended by Ray at the gear shop. 

The route normally includes a six-mile road walk along US 12. Yesterday’s experience on this busy highway — where cars whizzed by at 70 mph — was less than enjoyable, so we were not keen on walking that. Skipping that is fine with me. Now, we have another road walk ahead of us. It’s a Saturday and there are some cars going down that road, and it doesn’t take long until the next car stops for us to take us to the next turnoff. It’s all paved road, and we don’t want to hike that if we don’t have to. A few cars pass until Nick and his son Cody stop for us. Cody is learning to drive in their new car, and I enjoy chatting with eight-year-old Skylar, who shares stories about their pets — cats, dogs, and even rabbits that came with their house.

After a pleasant ride, we transition to a dirt road leading us toward the CDT. We unpack our delicious roast beef sandwiches from the butcher shop, each bite a reminder of what we are missing on trail. It’s pure bliss, and I regret not packing more!

As we continue down the dirt road, a friendly driver named Lloyd invites us to come by his cabin, perched just up the hill from the CDT. Despite the heat, we keep ourselves entertained by reminiscing about our favorite trail meals and critiquing the food from our PCT and CDT experiences. The clouds above morph into fascinating shapes, providing the most excitement on our rather mundane 2-hour trek along the road.

The cabin shows up right at the top of the hill like described and looks like a perfect location, nice and remote while overlooking the valley. Lloyd greets us at his cabin, handing us cold sodas and inviting us inside. The cabin, still under construction, is charming, complete with a porch perfect for wildlife watching. He shares stories of spotting elk and the occasional bear. As we chat, he offers us water, warning us against drinking from the nearby pond, which he describes as “muggy.” It’s sound advice, as we later discover the water source isn’t fit for consumption.

Invitation to Lloyd’s cabin

After our refreshing break, we return to the CDT, where the transition from dirt road to forest trail feels like a welcome relief for our weary feet. The darkness of the clouds looms overhead, and a few drops of rain tease us, but nothing substantial falls. As we hike, we pass peculiar piles of rocks scattered across the landscape, wondering if they’re the remnants of ancient giants playing marbles.

The scenery shifts as we encounter mossy trees, but the biting mosquitoes drive us onward. There are some more muggy buggy ponds that we happily skip to get water from. Just before our planned campsite, we finally locate a clear stream, albeit swarming with mosquitoes. The sun begins to set, casting golden rays through the trees, illuminating the path ahead.

When we reach our campsite, it’s perfect — except for the hordes of mosquitoes sharing it with us. We prepare dinner, our first meal that’s not a dehydrated offering; it’s back to Knorr sides. I can hardly remember how we managed to choke that atrocity down. Thankfully, we still have some bread and cheese to elevate our dinner experience. Other hikers have seen a mysterious white wolf at this campsite, but we don’t get to see it. 

Unfortunately, I realize I left my earphones in Helena, a bummer that weighs on me. While they may not be the most valuable item, I miss the ability to listen to music and audiobooks as I hike. For many, the sounds of nature are soothing, and they are indeed. However, hiking for nine hours a day, day after day, makes it a different story. Audiobooks provide an escape from discomfort, whether it’s battling bad weather, being soaked, or just dealing with the grind of the trail.

As an avid reader since childhood, stories have always been my refuge, and on long hikes, I’ve found that I can devour countless books simply by listening during those endless hours on the trail. Each tale transports me to another world, easing the burden of fatigue and allowing me to push through the challenges ahead.

CDT Day 23 — There will be blood

Today’s hike is a mix of the mundane and the challenging. The climbs are nice and gradual, making for an easy trek, but the relentless mosquitoes are driving us to insanity. We manage to get out of camp before the mozzies wake up, but the overcast sky starts to drizzle as we take our first steps. I’d choose a bit of rain over swarms of mosquitoes any day — just not too much rain!

A day on the CDT would not be complete without blowdowns. Early on, we are throwing stiff legs over logs just too large for our little legs, so we are scraping our butts to get over. A few unfortunate slips lead to scrapes and even some blood drawn as we maneuver around the obstacles. Ouch!

The mosquitoes are also out for blood, but they’re lazy opportunists, only attacking when we come to a stop. To avoid becoming their next meal, we keep breaks to a minimum. Since we don’t exit the forest in the morning, the lack of views makes the hike feel monotonous. After a morning filled with the fighting of mozzies and blowdowns, we desperately need something to break the routine.

Then, we stumble upon what could be mistaken for trail magic, though we know the CDT isn’t known for that kind of generosity. It’s an old ice chest, clearly weathered and forgotten, with “SOBO CDT Cooler Challenge” written across the top. A thru-hiker named Big Heart started this initiative, asking hikers to carry the cooler a little farther down the trail until it reaches a trash can. This is such a nice way to break things up and a great opportunity to be of service. We decide to take on the challenge, hoisting the cooler and carrying it about a mile with around 900 ft of elevation gain. Learning that the most comfortable way to carry is by balancing it on the backpack and letting it rest on the back of our heads “Sherpa style”. It’s a fun little adventure.

CDT SOBO Cooler Challenger

After dropping off the cooler, we embark on a side quest to Thunderbolt Mountain for lunch. Finally, we’re rewarded with some stunning views — a welcome sight after a morning spent in the trees. We find a new favorite cold-soaking recipe. Couscous with avocado, cheese, green onions and some tajin makes a delightful treat I highly recommend. 

Thunderbold Mountain

However, the rest of the day remains fairly uneventful as we continue through the forest, battling both the mosquitoes and unpredictable weather. Rain comes and goes, making the air muggy and perfect for our unwelcome flying friends. As we reach our campsite in a meadow, I’m surprised to see patches of snow lingering despite the recent heat. It’s a curious sight, almost like nature’s own slushee, and I can’t help but imagine how it would taste with a drizzle of syrup. Just as we finish dinner, the skies open up, and it starts to rain cats and dogs, accompanied by the rumble of thunder. We hunker down, grateful for our shelter, as the storm rolls in, hoping for a better day ahead.

CDT Day 24 — Changing plans

We wake up to the sound of rain tapping on our tent, not exactly the kind of wake-up call that motivates us to pack up and hit the trail. So, we turn over and snuggle back into our sleeping bags. With some reception here, I check the weather forecast, which promises sunshine. Classic Montana — its forecasts seem as reliable as a coin toss, often failing to capture the numerous microclimates in the area. By the time the rain finally stops, it’s already 8 am, leaving us with a late start. Thankfully, today should be an easy day, so it’s not a big deal.

After a night of rain, we frequently wake up in puddles, and it remains a conundrum how this keeps happening. One of the most frequently asked questions on a thru-hike is, “Why is this wet?” It doesn’t seem to matter whether we lay down a groundsheet or not; moisture always finds its way under our sleeping pads. Maybe it’s time to consider a new tent.

One of our packages got accidentally sent to Butte, so we need to go there. But we also got packages in Anaconda, as we originally planned to do the alternate. Since the way to Anaconda is mostly an ugly long road walk, first along dirt roads, then even the highway, we spontaneously decide to hike the red line to get to Butte. We’re going to spend two zeros there, including the 4th of July. Then hitch over to Anaconda, get our packages there, and then continue on the alternate towards Darby. That way, we seem to get the best of both worlds. And that whop chop Ryan has been talking about for months now (which, by the way, turns out to be truly underwhelming).

As we make our way across wet meadows, our shoes quickly soak through. The sun peeks out, but the chill lingers in the air. We pass by some black cows, their calves frolicking nearby, while a bull is fortunately preoccupied with romance. We encounter two NOBO hikers who flipped around Colorado and a couple of day hikers coming from Champions Pass, where we cross a dirt road.

A few drops of rain continue to fall, but at least the mosquitoes seem to be taking a break today. We stop for lunch at the Anaconda Cutoff junction, and the sun finally makes a solid appearance. Montana weather feels like April weather in Germany — unpredictable and fickle, swinging from one extreme to the next. While we’re enjoying our lunch, a truck pulls up, and Mike and Pam generously offer us apples and a tangerine. There hasn’t been trail magic on the CDT SOBO so far, but personal gestures like this warm our hearts.

After a few minutes, the rain starts up again. We move up under a nearby tree, only for the sun to break through once more. I take the opportunity to soak in some warmth with a quick nap. As we continue on, the weather fluctuates wildly — brief downpours, occasional hail, thunderstorms, and sun all in the span of minutes. Seriously, Montana?

Wildlife makes a fleeting appearance today; we spot a few deer, but overall, the excitement is lacking. The final stretch of our day leads us through an area littered with blowdowns and few camping opportunities. We keep hiking until we find a suitable spot — a bit sheltered from the rain, without any dead trees looming overhead that could pose a danger at night. A stunning sunset rewards us before we hit our pillows.

CDT Day 25 — Getting into Butte

We’re relieved to finally reach Butte, eager for some much-needed rest. Our feet hurt, my legs are scratched up, and we’re both sore and hungry. On our way into town, we stumble upon a trail magic cooler by the road, offering a refreshing soda. There’s nothing like a little carbonation to lift our spirits on the trail!

Rare Trail Magic on the CDT SOBO

 The path today is pleasant and easy, with no rain in sight. After hitting a dirt road, we walk for an hour, watching cars zip by in the opposite direction. It’s a mystery where they’re all headed — there seems to be nothing out here. Along the way, we meet a friendly farmer lady and her adorable dog, as well as another farmer with his son, who are busy repairing a fence.

Eventually, we arrive at the on-ramp for I-15, which, interestingly enough, is the same highway that passes the PCT in California. Hitching a ride here proves a bit tricky as cars whiz past at alarming speeds, but there’s a nice long turnoff. After a slightly longer wait than usual, about 20 minutes, we finally get picked up by David, who kindly drives us to Butte. He advises us to keep any negative comments about Butte to ourselves and to avoid mentioning that Ryan is from California. Apparently, many Californians are relocating here, and the locals aren’t too thrilled about it.

Walking towards the I-15

Once we drop off our packs at the hotel, our first stop is McDonald’s next door for a Big Mac. There’s something so satisfying about fast food after days on the trail! While we’re there, we run into Colt, who we met back in East Glacier. He had a rough go in Glacier National Park when his tent got ripped apart and left a few days before us.

After catching up with Colt, we hop on a bus to the post office to retrieve our wayward package. Ryan finally gets his new backpack! The buses in Butte are free, though the routes can be a bit odd, with some running only once an hour. I appreciate the public transport system and the friendly bus drivers, who are surprisingly personable. It’s refreshing to be asked how I’m doing when I board. Some drivers even know the names of their regular passengers.

However, we decide to walk back to the hotel since it’s quicker than waiting for the next bus. Once back, we check in, take long-awaited showers, and do laundry before heading to Walmart. The transition from the trail to a bustling store is always overwhelming, especially since most resupply towns are tiny. Walmart is filled with endless choices and distractions, making it nearly impossible to stick to our list and get out of there in under an hour. Focus? Forget it!

After our shopping adventure, we walk back to the hotel since the last bus is just not coming. Along the way, we pass five dispensaries within a 100-meter radius. What’s that about? Finally, we treat ourselves to the Asian buffet nearby, feasting until our stomachs ache. Ah, the sweet pain of overeating—the ultimate dream of every thru-hiker!

We spent two zeros in Butte, I get to see my first 4th of July parade which was surprisingly more fun than I thought it would be and the big firework show the night before. We eat our way around town and I fall in love with the food at the Irish Pub. The beef stew and the bread pudding go high up the list of the best food on the trail so far, heck, even on the list of food I had in the USA in general.

4th of July in Butte