Saturday, July 31, 2004
I Got My Wish--Part II
07/31/04
I can't remember where I slept last night, probably because right now it's after hiker midnight and a lot happened today.
I got an email from Yogi, who was leaving Lima, Montana, on our zero in Leadore.
She said the old CDT was "something like 30 miles shorter" than the new one, and she reported they'd made excellent time between Leadore and Lima.
So we trimmed our food down a bit before we headed out of Leadore in anticipation of a shorter leg. Since we had so much to do, we didn't really review our maps or descriptions before we hit the trail. Or at least I didn't.
I don't deal with that kind of abstraction very well. I can't read the whole description of the route and keep it in active memory. The book is most useful to me when I need more information than the landscape provides. I scan through, remembering landmarks mentioned until I get to where I am. Usually, it's a sharp turn in a lush meadow that has me/us off the track. You would think that reviewing maps and descriptions would be my highest priority, but it doesn't work that way for me. I like to cross a bridge when I come to it.
Today, we were coming to the junction of the old CDT route and the new CDT route. We had to choose, which meant we needed to review the guidebook, its supplement, the guidebook maps, Jonathan's maps, and the DeLorme atlas maps.
In short, all our printed resources.
The new route looked great, full of the stuff I enjoy while hiking: views, wildlife, and cool other stuff. The old route was pretty much a road walk, which means fast miles and a direct route. Road walks can be dull as USA Today and harder on the feet.
The initial reaction within the Traveling Show to changing from the quick route to the scenic was less than unanimous. I even had a little hesitation. If I KNEW I'd finish in New Mexico this year, I would be more inclined to go rather than save the two "extra" day of hiking.
In the end we reached a satisfactory compromise. Both routes cross Bannack Pass (not to be confused with Bannock Pass from a couple of days ago), so we agreed to do the first part of the new route, then drop back to the old route after the pass.
I'm SO glad we did, and this is just the first day.
The mountains around here are a bit more dramatic than in the last few weeks. We climbed up a river canyon, then around a peak, arriving on the area described as a plateau. It was a high open area with no trees, but lots of elevation variation.
Nevertheless, one of the first things I saw was one of my whishes for this trip: A herd of antelope! We got to watch them for a bit, and as we moved closer (following the trail), they became aware of our presence and started to run. But it wasn't a random run. They herded, creating a tight flow of moving beast, like a river of shiny fur. It was great. There were probably 75 antelope in the herd.
Before we got to where the antelope were, to the right and a little below us, I spied a HUGE herd of elk across the drainage, and another equally large herd above the first and much more distant. Some elk were grazing, others lounging on the green carpet of grasses. In all, the herds were on the move, but ever so slowly. They moved at the pace of grazing, that is until they became aware of us.
It's interesting to watch an alert pass through a herd. Somebody first saw us, then those around saw us.
Nobody panicked, but then when somebody else sees that many others are all looking at something he or she hadn't yet seen, they get a little panicky. A little start grows startling others around. Then the first ones think, "Oh, maybe the panicky ones see a bigger danger than we see." Then somebody bolts.
The elk herd moved like a river, sweeping up stragglers and flowing over the bulging hillside until they were out of site.
Of course, the elk have nothing to fear from us, but they can not distinguish between our photo-curious presence and the intrusion of violence-crazed hunters that will blow their friend's brain out, maim their child, or disturb their neighborhood.
I found a great big bone on the plateau and did a little 2001 learning-to-kill-with-a-tool humanoid rendition, which I then repeated for Spur's on-camera video. I made monkey noises and everything.
We made are way across the plateau unsettling more elk in the process. The wind was harsh, the light fantastic, and the water scarce. Spur and I headed down from the Divide to get some water. On the way, in the stream I'd later pump out of, I saw a baby elk skull. It was probably still born.
We contoured our way around, setting ourselves up for an early ascent of Cottonwood Peak in the morning. The weather looks threatening, but I'm going to sleep ouot anyway. It's so windy tonight.
