CDT: Thunderstruck – Lima to Targhee Pass

The stretch from Lima to Targhee Pass throws the next unexpected challenges at us: Harrowing afternoon thunderstorms with hail and lightning. Despite these difficulties, we experience the thrill of unexpected trail magic, stunning wildlife sightings, and breathtaking landscapes, from dramatic sunrises and sunsets to serene ridge walks. The CDT truly highlights the unpredictable yet rewarding nature of thru-hiking.

CDT Day 43 – Just an easy road walk, right?

Again, this is one of these days when we think it’s going to be easy and then something happens that turns it into yet another challenge. It’s just a 7-mile road walk, what can happen there? Well, I will tell you what happened.

First, we stand at the on-ramp, hoping to hitch a ride out of town, and after an hour of waiting in the sun, we’re about to give up when a massive semi pulls over. Jimmy from Kazakhstan rescues us, and we chat about his grueling 11-hour days on the road and his journey to Las Vegas. When we say our goodbyes, I ask him for the word for “Thank you” in Kazakh, as I like collecting that one in as many languages as I can. It’s “рахмет”, pronounced “Rachmed”.

Just before the thunderstorm hits us

Jimmy drops us off on the shoulder of the Interstate, and we dash across to pick up the trail on the other side. The road stretches before us, flanked by grazing sheep and cows, a serene scene that soon turns apocalyptic. Dark clouds mixed with a reddish light from the haze from the fires. In the distance, we can see the rain pouring down. We keep on walking and hope for the best. Then, thunder rumbles and lightning flashes, growing increasingly intense. When the wind picks up, I know the rain is about to reach us. Big drops come down, soon turning into hail that gets bigger and bigger. The thunderstorm is now right above us, loud thunder and big lightning strikes that are very scary. I know that we are in a dangerous situation. This road is exposed, not many trees or any cover around. I can see a group of trees further up the road. I hurry to get there, thinking lightning is going to strike me any minute.

I finally reach the trees, right when the hail gets massive and painful. I crouch down between the trees, relieved but anxiously looking for Ryan to arrive too. When he arrives, I suggest pitching the tent. This might take a while, and we are already soaking wet. We might be able to continue after this is over. 

Hurrying towards safety in a thunderstorm and hail

When he arrives, I suggest pitching the tent. This might take a while, and we are already soaking wet. We might be able to continue after this is over. We pitch the tent and get dry and cozy. It got cold in a heartbeat. I feel safe now. Watching a video Ryan took, we see lightning arcs ominously near us — unsettling but awe-inspiring. I’m glad we’re alive and well. I want to eat all my chocolate right now, I don’t know why. We wait for like an hour until the thunderstorm is over. And, from one moment to the next, the sun comes out, blue sky, some white clouds. Like nothing ever happened. It’s very hard to believe what we’ve just been through.

As we resume our road walk, a black van with a sign reading “CDT Trail Magic” appears. When you ever did a thru-hike like the PCT, then there is always this thought “Is this trail magic?” But we know, there is no trail magic on the CDT SOBO. So, I laugh the thought away. But wait, there is a sign in the windows that says “CDT Trail” and is that last word really “Magic”? A man sticks out his head, smiles at us. It really is trail magic. He and his girlfriend are just setting up for tomorrow, but they already give us some wonderful chili and sodas. What a lovely treat after that big scare we just had. They hiked the CDT last year, the Arizona Trail this year and now they’re planning a trip to Iceland, Germany, and Switzerland. I’m happy to offer them some tips.

First SOBO Trail Magic!

The surprises keep coming. As we continue while wet cows are staring at us, the sunset bursts into a spectacular display, the sky painted with dramatic rays of color. This is our background for the last mile of our day. We find a picturesque camping spot on the edge of a cliff, perfect for sunrise views tomorrow. Deciding to cowboy camp for the first time on the CDT, we enjoy a peaceful evening under the stars, a few mosquitoes kept at bay by a bug net. The day wraps up with a lovely dinner, the night sky shimmering with the first stars. Despite the unexpected twists, this day has been one to remember.

Spectacular sunset after the storm

CDT Day 44 – Morning Safari and Afternoon Thunderstorms

Our day kicks off with a dramatic sunrise — a big red ball emerging from the widespread haze of nearby fires, so vivid it feels like you could pluck it from the sky.

Early morning haze

As we walk, I catch sight of a large furry butt and stop in my tracks. That can’t be a cow, right? Moments later, the creature picks up its head and looks right at us. It’s a majestic elk just like 30 feet away from us, showing off his mighty antlers, the golden light hitting him just right. He takes off into the bushes before we can snap a picture. We can hear and feel his hoofs hitting the ground, getting a sense of his enormous size.

The wildlife sightings continue. Deer, with their enormous ears, bounce away from us in a playful boing-boing. We spot a marten darting across the trail and encounter several groups of horse riders — this section of the trail is a hotspot for equestrians. One rider mentions moose nearby, and soon after, we spot two moose just off the trail. One lounges lazily while the other watches us with his massive antlers. We haven’t seen any moose since Glacier National Park, over 700 miles ago! We watch them for a while before moving on.

Moose

Today’s weather is a refreshing change from the past weeks — cooler, with a pleasant breeze. The perfect hiking weather. And no mozzies, no biting flies. Since the Interstate we haven’t had any biting flies yet, maybe they can’t cross highways. Finally, we can take breaks again without getting bothered, just enjoying. Grasshoppers bouncing away with every step and mushrooms popping up after the rain. The haze is the only downside, obscuring any distant views. We can live with that, though.

We navigate through wildflower meadows, ascend small hills, traverse forests and boulder fields, and stop by a cowboy tent next to a water pipe. A horse, a mule and three dogs are at home, though we don’t encounter any humans. Despite warnings about aggressive sheep guard dogs, everything remains calm.

After surviving yesterday’s thunderstorm, we check the forecast and brace for more afternoon storms. We set up camp by a small lake, timing it perfectly to avoid the storm. It’s the same schedule as yesterday. At 3.30 pm we hear the first thunder, at 4 pm it’s getting very close. By that time, we are already in the tent. At 4.30 pm it starts raining and the first lightning strikes. At 5 pm, it’s right above us, raining heavily and hailing. At 5.30 pm it’s over, and the sun is back out. I feel like the contestants in the second Hunger Games book when they figured out the clock system of the arena. I cracked the code! 

For this afternoon’s thunderstorm we find shelter just in time before it hits

We continue hiking under the sun, but soon the clouds darken again. Another thunderstorm rolls in, and we take refuge in the forest to avoid getting soaked. Damn! I thought I figured this out. The rain calms down soon, but the wet grass and bushes leave our feet soaked. A river crossing doesn’t make it much better. In the forest, there are some big patches of huge hail nuggets, making it look like winter again. We are just glad that the hail wasn’t as bad up where we’ve been. This must have been heavy down here, and that it is still on the ground probably means that the ground is pretty cold. I’m thinking of how Ryan just send his air pad away. I hope he’s going to be warm enough at night.

Big as hail

I’m tired by now. When we reach Aldous Lake, we decide to call it a day and camp here, as it’s a nice spot. We set up camp as it gets dark, enjoying a late dinner. The wet conditions have brought back the mozzies, thriving in the damp environment. The lake, covered in green duckweed, is also home to muskrats, but we don’t get to see any.

CDT Day 45 – The Weather Divide

The day starts out wet. Not from rain, but from the dew-drenched grass and bushes that greet us. Slipping into soggy shoes and damp socks isn’t exactly a joy I missed.

The highlight of the morning is the privy at the trailhead a mile further down the trail. Most thru-hikers appreciate a good pit toilet, well stocked with toilet paper. There is just something about it not having to dig a cathole, not having to worry about Leave No Trace Principles and everything involved. There is so much work going into it. Sitting on an almost real toilet is just nice and relaxed, as it should be in my opinion. I always get excited when I find an upcoming privy on the FarOut map. And, apparently I’m not the only one. We cross paths with two NOBOs who eagerly ask about it. Ryan, on the other hand, enjoys outdoor pooping with a view. Each to their own.

The morning brings a mosquito swarm, especially near the creeks. I keep my rain pants on to avoid them biting me, going fully covered including a bug net, but soon all that gets too hot when we start the big climb of the day. Thankfully, the mozzies thin out as we ascend.

We meet another NOBO, Pesky, who warns us about a sketchy guy heading NOBO who’s been threatening other hikers and trail angels. Pesky’s tried to keep his distance, but this guy seems to reappear, especially after a town detour. Later, we learn he was arrested in Pinedale. I’m more than happy to dodge that drama. Pesky also mentions this type of troublemaker is common on the AT, reinforcing my decision to stick to other trails.

The clouds get menacingly dark early today, just as we’re about to cross an exposed ridge. We scarf down our cold soaked beans-and-rice-ramen combo, shoving it in our faces as quickly as possible. Then, we push on, sweat mixing with the humid air. As we near the highest point, thunder grumbles ominously. Rain quickly turns to stinging hail, followed by flashes of lightning. It’s too early for the afternoon storm! We hurry along, barely able to enjoy the typically stunning ridge walk. I’m scared, as being on a ridge in a thunderstorm is really the last place you want to be.

The clouds begin to darken early today

But luck’s on our side. The hail subsides just as we begin our descent, and the sun breaks through. The sky is split in a dramatic weather divide: dark storm clouds to the left, blue sky and sunshine to the right. It’s a surreal sight. The thunderstorm just passed us on the left side without hitting us. As soon as we realize that we’re good now, we sit down for a break. Enjoying this spectacular sight of not only sitting on the Continental Divide but also on some kind of weather divide. Never experienced anything like that. 

The storm just passes us along the ridgeline

As we descend, we chat with a few more NOBOs. None seem thrilled about Yellowstone; they describe it as flat, boring, and infested with mosquitoes. They even had daily rain. But come on, the trail skirts by Old Faithful and other geothermal wonders — surely that’s got to be impressive, right? I’m still excited to see all the geysers.

The rest of the day unfolds smoothly. The weather clears, flowers bloom in abundance, and the humidity isn’t too oppressive. After a longer water carry, the remaining trail is mostly downhill, allowing us to cover good mileage. We leave the Mack’s Inn Cutoff behind, that many hikers use for a quicker route and stick to the red line toward Targhee Pass, which promises better scenery than a road walk and bushwhacking — a day’s extra hiking feels worth it for the views. After all, that’s what we are here for, right?

Just before we set up camp, another thunderstorm rolls in. We find a sheltered spot by a creek, nestled among trees, and get into the tent just as the storm hits. The thunder’s deafening but brief. So, we managed not to get soaked today, although having to deal with two thunderstorms. It’s much easier to deal with in the evening than in the middle of the day.

CDT Day 46 – A Long Day, a Locust Plague and Targhee Pass

The morning kicks off with a stunning little canyon. Hell Roaring Creek cascades through vibrant red rocks, setting a dramatic tone. When we dive into the forest we run into some lovely local ladies that look for the first huckleberries of the season. But most of the day stretches along a rather lackluster section between a dirt road and Highway 87. It’s a grueling 10-mile stretch on the hot, exposed road, where ATVs and 4WDs zoom past, leaving us in a cloud of dust.

And then there’s the locust plague. I’m not talking about the charming little grasshoppers we’ve seen recently; these are massive brown locusts that look like cockroaches. They’re everywhere — hundreds of them swarming over the road. It freaks me out. I’m squirming around them, occasionally squeaking and jumping.

When we finally reach the lone spring by the side of the road, the only water source on this stretch, I’m done. After the third spider scuttles across our backpacks, I’ve had enough. As Ron Weasley would say, “I hate spiders!” I’m out of here, running towards a shaded place that appears to be free of creepy crawlers. Mozzies? Biting Flies? Heat? Thunderstorms? Hail? Snow? Rain? Alright, not pleasant, but I manage. But now we’ve crossed a line for me. This section sucks. 

Lackluster 10 mile dirt road full of locusts and ATVs racing by

Once we finally escape the locust-infested road and cross Highway 87, the day takes a turn for the better. The clouds are dark and a fierce wind whips around us, but the forecast promises clear skies for the evening and night. So, we say, “Screw it, let’s walk all the way up to Targhee Pass and camp at the top!”. There’s supposed to be decent shelter from the wind up there. The catch? We’re facing a 3,727-foot climb at the end of a 19-mile day with 2,200 feet of elevation gain already under our belts. It’s going to be a long day, the longest I’ve ever hiked to be exact, but the climb is a gentle series of switchbacks that keep our heart rates steady. It’s not hot anymore, and a breeze keeps all the sweat away from us. Nicely graded switchbacks are not really a big thing on the CDT, but finally, they make our life easy, it’s like a PCT climb. We keep going, driven by the stunning golden light of the sunset as we climb higher and higher.

Climbing Targhee Pass in the evening light

After a 2.5-hour ascent, we finally reach the top — our highest camp yet, at nearly 10,000 feet. We’re tired but euphoric. It’s time for a well-deserved feast: Shepherd’s Pie and a mudslide for dessert. Hell yeah, we worked hard for this, I’m hungry like a grizzly. The forecast turned out to be trustworthy, there is no rain. There is a decent amount of wind, but we find a nicely sheltered spot between some trees. And the cold at this altitude keeps the mozzies away. What else could you want?

Top of Targhee Pass

Just as we’re drifting off to sleep, we hear odd noises — cracking branches, steps, sniffing. Ryan is convinced it’s a bear. I don’t know, we can’t see anything. We call out a few “hey bears!” into the dark for good measure, but whatever it is doesn’t seem interested in our food in the Ursack outside. We pop in earplugs and go to sleep, figuring there’s no point in stressing about it.

CDT Day 47 – Fast Ridge Walk before Thunderstorms

When I wake up, those mysterious noises are back. This time, I’m pretty sure they’re from mountain goats. I unzip the tent to investigate and come face-to-face with a big, fluffy white mountain goat staring right at me. Ryan still thinks it might have been a bear earlier, since the sniffing didn’t quite match a mountain goat’s usual sounds. I don’t know, but I do know that we and our food are fine. 

Sunrise with a mountain goat

We savor the early morning, watching the mountain goat graze in the wildflower meadow as the sun starts to rise. The haze from the nearby fires softens the view, but it’s still breathtaking. Targhee Peak’s red rocks glow softly to our right, and below us, a lush green river valley stretches out.

Descending from Targhee Pass

Descending in more switchbacks, we finally reach the river valley and its water. Of course, what goes down must come up again. We climb out of the valley, following a scenic ridge for several miles. As I gaze at the impressive rocky cliffs, I spot a large, hazy lake below. It’s Hebgen Lake, near West Yellowstone. On a clear day, the view must be incredible, with the Grand Tetons in the distance. We still enjoy our ridge walk, a bit of phone reception and the cool morning air before heading downhill towards Highway 20 for a hitch into Island Park.

Ridgewalk with a hazy Hebgen Lake in the distance

A friendly couple with a very outdoorsy looking van — complete with bikes and a canoe — picks us up. They’re on a road trip through Montana and Idaho, and their enthusiasm is infectious. They drop us off at Subway, where we dive into some much-missed real food and the coke I’m always dreaming about on hot days of hiking. Inside, we run into familiar faces — Karma, Akela, Brown Sugar, and Journey — who are as hungry as we are. The town isn’t exactly bustling with options: there’s a fancy resort campground, a gas station, Subway, a diner closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays (and today’s Tuesday), but a decent grocery store. The post office, where our packages are waiting, is five miles down the road. We need to figure out tomorrow how to get there. There’s also a good Mexican restaurant about two miles down the road, this one conveniently on our way.

As usual, town stops are overwhelming for me. Besides the usual chores — shower, laundry, cleaning, fixing — we also need to sort out camping permits for Yellowstone National Park. Ryan’s brother and his family are visiting on Friday, so we need to coordinate around that. Furthermore, there are quite some people here as this is one of the venture points for the National Park. The grocery store is packed, and maneuvering through the crowds is a challenge. By late afternoon, the weather turns wild again — hail, a thunderstorm, and torrential rain that leave puddles in our leaky tent. There is a new tent waiting for us at the far away post office. Dang.