From Mexico to Canada on the Continental Divide Trail

I really enjoyed Rawlins. The hostel, run by Kate, was peaceful and had everything I needed... Laundry, shower, a bunk, a fridge... young man at the coffee shop won a state prize for his amazing art. I got creative with a 38 mile road walk. I asked Christine for a ride 13 miles out, then I'd use the satin to walk back to town and enjoy a steak dinner. What a great character she is. She moved to Rawlins from Hawaii in the 1980s and ran the laundromat with her husband for many years. He passed on, and she sold the business to Kate and her famous pet goat. But really, they are partners, clearly holding each other in high esteem like a mother and daughter.  I enjoyed the walk with a light pack, sharing water with a couple southbound hikers heading out. Not a tree in sight, just high sagebrush country. After the steak, I hung out, chatting with a great Canadian couple, Shamrock and Scraps. Later, we met again in Steamboat Springs and shared a dinner with a guy who motorcycle

Here is a video of the fun lately! Cory went on ahead here in Rawlins. We had a great farewell dinner and he taught me how to smoke a pipe properly, and furnished me with a pouch of tobacco. It's been a real gift to hike with him. I might see him in Grand Lake when I start that section, too. https://youtube.com/watch?v=x8beoT0IfxA&si=qST2JOQTktTPTW9S

Cory and I are lying under some trees in blustery weather. The first trees we've seen in 100 miles of walking through remote high scrublands, then brutal desert floor. Earlier today, we escaped the desert into highway 287, and were immediately fighting being blown over by huge trucks. With only a few sips of water left from the electric well 15 miles back, I licked my chapped lips, knowing we'd have a fish pond in three miles. Suddenly, a sign: "fresh lemonade." And a boy, bored, looking at me from a metal shed on the side of the road. Wow... I couldn't have asked for anything better.  He had ice cream too. We left happy, and thirty dollars poorer. Then we found the trees, and here we sit. Much to report, but for now, back to sleep.

After a full rest day, we tried hitting out of Dubois. I made a poor call, thinking that if we go eat breakfast in the place where the locals hang out, we'll garner some sympathy for our qioxotic mission and one of the ranchers will give us a ride back to the trail. Didn't work. Reading the thoughts of the men and women dunking toast into coffee, I felt the big question to be "how do these adult men end up out here playing on a work day?" The answer, unfortunately seemed to be that we'd executed some financial chicanery on hard working folks. Few smiles, curt nods, silence to my thank yours and beg your pardons. These folks have work to do. Finally, we called a church group who let hikers sleep in the church, and a husband within earshot of the phone was happy to drive us out. Yes! We started on a road past the little town of Dunair to avoid the section of trail where the man was attacked. Last year a CDT hiker was charged and she used up her bear spra

At the ranger station, we arranged for one backcountry camp and three nights in village campgrounds. We pieced together a route that connected trails and roads south to the great lake, then to Grants Village, just seven miles from the official CDT which we hadn't seen in weeks. Another night in the backcountry, then we'd leave the park to the south. The ranger was really nice and helpful, though much like on entry into Glacier National Park, we had to watch a video on bear and bison safety. No problem... It was nice to sit, knowing we had twenty miles to do before we could sleep. It felt great to head south on the road out of Mammoth. We'd been traveling east for hard days, but Mexico isn't that way! However, it's not so easy to walk the road on Yellowstone. The shoulder is narrow, so oncoming cars need to move a little. They need to see you, but that isn't so easy for the modern American driver, distracted by devices. We often waved. Sometimes a passenger would

Robert and Mark drove Cory and I back to Big Sky so we could keep heading south. We hiked up to Ramshorn Lake in the evening, waiting out a storm under thick trees for a while. Beautiful sunset from our camp above the lake, which we wanted to avoid because bears had been a problem there, possibly after leftover grain from horse packers who often camp there. In the morning, we set off to traverse "Sky Rim," the far northwest boundary of Yellowstone park. Up and down for hours, we admired views south into Wyoming. Around five in the evening, we were down from the ridge, dehydrated and rather shattered from the work. We drank from the stream and I found a detour deeper into the park that would save some climbing. We then tunneled down valley to a broad trunk valley from which we went back up to the east. The next day, we passed a herd of pack llamas resting in a field... We climbed up to a high pass, coming