Woohoo, the big trip! Finally! Dave, Joe and I got to the airport with time to spare (thanks Heather for the lift) and started the two legged flight to Billings, MT. Thankfully the flights were completely uneventful. When we landed in Billings the first thing I noticed was, only about half a dozen gates at the whole airport! Before we knew it we were on the road, looking for an outdoor supplies store to pick up gas canisters and bear spray. We finally stopped in at The Base Camp and got some weird looks when we sidled up to the counter with three cans of bear spray. One of the sales people convinced us that two would be sufficient for the three of us, which we appreciated. We were a little shocked at the $46 price tag, particularly because it was our sincere hope that we'd never use them, and you can't take aerosol on a plane so we'd have to leave them when we headed home. Next we hit the road and pretty soon (thanks to the 75 mph speed limit) were cruising the winding roads of the scenic Beartooth Highway.
At one of the pull-off overlooks along the road. Notice the ominous clouds.
The highway passes in and out of Wyoming between Red Lodge and Cooke CityWe got to the Colter Campground and pretty much had our pick of sites for our first night in the area. After quickly setting up camp we headed into Cooke City to see what it was all about and to wait out a late afternoon sprinkle that was moving through. Well, it turns out Cooke City was about 30 buildings on either side of the highway and that was it. To me it was the perfect little mountain town; tucked in between the hills and completely cut off from the rest of the world. There was an outhouse at the gas station. We got a few beers and some hot dogs for camp and had an enjoyable evening. It definitely chilled after the sun set which gave us a nice preview of the kinds of temps we could expect over the next week, or so we thought.
Early morning as the moon sets over Joe's TT Double RainbowDay #2
In the wee hours of the morning (maybe around 3AM) I got up to relieve myself and Joe must have heard me stirring. The moon and stars were so bright that he yelled out, "Time to get up?". When we finally did get up I think we were all feeling pretty fresh and ready to start hiking. We took a quick drive back to Cooke City and had a nice, full breakfast at the Bistro. Once we got back to the campground to pack up things took a turn. Joe was suddenly having some pretty nasty stomach issues and had to visit the ultra-deluxe porta john more than he'd like (see below).
In the wee hours of the morning (maybe around 3AM) I got up to relieve myself and Joe must have heard me stirring. The moon and stars were so bright that he yelled out, "Time to get up?". When we finally did get up I think we were all feeling pretty fresh and ready to start hiking. We took a quick drive back to Cooke City and had a nice, full breakfast at the Bistro. Once we got back to the campground to pack up things took a turn. Joe was suddenly having some pretty nasty stomach issues and had to visit the ultra-deluxe porta john more than he'd like (see below).
Morning of the beginning of a 6 day hike is a heck of a time for thisNevertheless we pushed on, got packed up and drove our rental car up the windy, gravel Lulu Pass Road toward the trailhead. When the car wouldn't go any farther we parked it by the old ruined foundation of a stone house.
We now walk into the wild.. I know I ripped that offA short hike from where the car was parked and we were huffing and puffing but feeling OK. It wasn't long before we made it to the Lady of the Lakes. We encountered our first day hikers by the lake and they asked for a look at our maps to determine a faster way back to their car. We weren't able to help them much unfortunately. The sun was shining and things were looking great!
The first (and only) signage we would see for a few days
Looking over Lady of the LakesAs we kept hiking, Joe was really starting to feel the strain from whatever stomach bug he was dealing with. Normally all three of us have a pretty equal pace but he was really pushing it to keep up and we were taking frequent breaks.
As an aside, we all live at about 600 feet elevation. Yes, that's 600, not 6,000. So to suddenly be thrust up to 7,500 feet and burdened with heavier than normal packs (6 days of food weighs about 12 lbs by itself) is no small thing. Full-on Altitude Sickness, or Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) can be experienced when you reach 8,000 feet and we'd just catapulted ourselves from 600 to over 7,500 feet in about 24 hours. The general rule of thumb is to ascend no more than 1,000 to 1,500 feet per day once you pass the 8,000 foot mark, but we were going to be pushing that guideline.
So back to the hike... Before long we were at the base of what has been described as "Cardiac Hill" or according to one local hiker, "The Widowmaker". This is a section of trail, if you want to call it that, which ascends about 1,000 feet over .7 miles. It is a very intense uphill grade and we decided to take a break and snack up before attempting it. As it turns out we were lucky to have made that decision. Just after our snack the gray clouds that had been rolling in opened up and it began to rain and sleet. I looked up just in time to see a brilliant flash of lightning strike the rock face of the hill across from us and thanked my lucky stars we weren't climbing up on our side, soaking wet and above treeline, three little lightning rods on the mountainside.
As an aside, we all live at about 600 feet elevation. Yes, that's 600, not 6,000. So to suddenly be thrust up to 7,500 feet and burdened with heavier than normal packs (6 days of food weighs about 12 lbs by itself) is no small thing. Full-on Altitude Sickness, or Acute Mountain Sickness (AMS) can be experienced when you reach 8,000 feet and we'd just catapulted ourselves from 600 to over 7,500 feet in about 24 hours. The general rule of thumb is to ascend no more than 1,000 to 1,500 feet per day once you pass the 8,000 foot mark, but we were going to be pushing that guideline.
So back to the hike... Before long we were at the base of what has been described as "Cardiac Hill" or according to one local hiker, "The Widowmaker". This is a section of trail, if you want to call it that, which ascends about 1,000 feet over .7 miles. It is a very intense uphill grade and we decided to take a break and snack up before attempting it. As it turns out we were lucky to have made that decision. Just after our snack the gray clouds that had been rolling in opened up and it began to rain and sleet. I looked up just in time to see a brilliant flash of lightning strike the rock face of the hill across from us and thanked my lucky stars we weren't climbing up on our side, soaking wet and above treeline, three little lightning rods on the mountainside.
One of the first peaks we saw as we hiked up out of the woods. 
Joe taking in the sceneryAfter the thunderstorm had passed we decided there was no time like the present and started up. It was about as tough as I'd imagined but despite the rain/sleet and the altitude we punched through with no more issues and before long were standing in the pass with our first camp site dead ahead, Lower Aero Lake.
On the way up "Cardiac Hill"
Dave taking a break on the way up "The Widowmaker"
Finally! Where's the food?!
After a couple quick pictures we made camp and had a nice warm dinner. Joe was really struggling at this point. Between the stomach issue that was certainly dehydrating him, the thin air and the heckuva climb we'd just completed he was finished. He flopped out in his tent before the sun went down to try to get some rest. Dave and I stayed up and waited for the clouds to clear and the moon and stars to come out. Even with the light pollution from the moon we could see many more stars than is possible from back home. After a while of just sitting on a rock by the lake and staring up we decided to pack it in for the night and went to bed.
Near sunset at camp
Day #3
Overnight more clouds rolled in and it poured down rain for hours. At one point I had to get out of my tent and push down the edge to allow a huge puddle of water to roll off. It was a good lesson in how waterproof my tent materials are, and why a very taut pitch is important. In the morning we found out that Joe's stomach was feeling better, but he'd had a horrible night's sleep. In fact, he'd barely slept at all. Luckily the storm passed by completely overnight and we had clear skies when we got up. So after a quick breakfast we packed up and headed out again, and this time there were no trails to tell us where to go. . .
Near sunset at campOvernight more clouds rolled in and it poured down rain for hours. At one point I had to get out of my tent and push down the edge to allow a huge puddle of water to roll off. It was a good lesson in how waterproof my tent materials are, and why a very taut pitch is important. In the morning we found out that Joe's stomach was feeling better, but he'd had a horrible night's sleep. In fact, he'd barely slept at all. Luckily the storm passed by completely overnight and we had clear skies when we got up. So after a quick breakfast we packed up and headed out again, and this time there were no trails to tell us where to go. . .
Sunrise over Lower Aero Lake
Hiking out above Lower Aero LakeThe original plan for our second day of hiking was pretty ambitious. We hoped to make our way around Upper Aero Lake and Rough Lake up to the Sky Top Lakes drainage. At that point we would drop our packs and hike up near the base of Granite Peak (the highest mountain in MT at 12,807 feet) and get a good look at the Sky Top glacier while we were up there. Then we'd go back to get our packs and continue on to Cairn Lake to set up camp. All told that would be something like 10-11 miles of difficult, off trail hiking.
We kept saying it felt like we were hiking on Mars. Everywhere was rock, ice and water. Nothing lived except us; three travelers, pondering along in a barren landscape. The area we were in is all slopes leading down from high peaks into lakes; everywhere you look. Every one of those slopes are littered with various sized boulders and broken rock that makes each step difficult and potentially dangerous. After a few miles we realized that our original plan was not going to work out. Not only was Joe feeling really fatigued, but now out of nowhere Dave was dealing with a stomach bug and not enjoying the idea of extra miles over this tough terrain. I wasn't feeling sick at all and I was pretty worn out so I don't know how they were continuing to put one foot in front of the other. In addition the clouds were moving back in, the wind was picking up and the temperature was dropping.
We decided to alter our route. At first I was pretty hesitant because we were in unknown territory, far from home and the itineraries we'd given out wouldn't be accurate if we changed plans now. However, as we looked ahead it was obvious we needed to find a spot to camp sooner rather than later and where we were offered no options. We decided to hike over a pass down toward Glen Lake and an area that looked fairly level on our topo maps. After a few hours of hiking in bad weather and over seemingly insurmountable passes we finally came upon a small, but flat area that had enough dirt for us to use our tent stakes. We set up camp and made dinner right away.
And just like that the clouds started to dissipate and our moods changed significantly. It's amazing what a little late-day sunshine can do to lift your spirits. That night we all stayed up to see the stars and probably passed out within seconds of laying down.
We kept saying it felt like we were hiking on Mars. Everywhere was rock, ice and water. Nothing lived except us; three travelers, pondering along in a barren landscape. The area we were in is all slopes leading down from high peaks into lakes; everywhere you look. Every one of those slopes are littered with various sized boulders and broken rock that makes each step difficult and potentially dangerous. After a few miles we realized that our original plan was not going to work out. Not only was Joe feeling really fatigued, but now out of nowhere Dave was dealing with a stomach bug and not enjoying the idea of extra miles over this tough terrain. I wasn't feeling sick at all and I was pretty worn out so I don't know how they were continuing to put one foot in front of the other. In addition the clouds were moving back in, the wind was picking up and the temperature was dropping.
These sheets of ice were common as we hiked above treeline
We decided to alter our route. At first I was pretty hesitant because we were in unknown territory, far from home and the itineraries we'd given out wouldn't be accurate if we changed plans now. However, as we looked ahead it was obvious we needed to find a spot to camp sooner rather than later and where we were offered no options. We decided to hike over a pass down toward Glen Lake and an area that looked fairly level on our topo maps. After a few hours of hiking in bad weather and over seemingly insurmountable passes we finally came upon a small, but flat area that had enough dirt for us to use our tent stakes. We set up camp and made dinner right away.
And just like that the clouds started to dissipate and our moods changed significantly. It's amazing what a little late-day sunshine can do to lift your spirits. That night we all stayed up to see the stars and probably passed out within seconds of laying down.
Camp at 10,300 feet as the sun setDay #4
It was pretty windy and cold overnight but we all woke up with a brighter outlook than the previous day and excited about seeing some new territory. After some food and a short map consultation we continued to hike down, past Lake Helen and finally through a pass that offered us a view of the color green again. We'd only spent about 36 hours completely above treeline but it was heartening to see a few trees down below and know that there was the possibility of a small campfire that night.
It was pretty windy and cold overnight but we all woke up with a brighter outlook than the previous day and excited about seeing some new territory. After some food and a short map consultation we continued to hike down, past Lake Helen and finally through a pass that offered us a view of the color green again. We'd only spent about 36 hours completely above treeline but it was heartening to see a few trees down below and know that there was the possibility of a small campfire that night.
Heading down toward Oly LakeAt this point I think we were getting pretty accustomed to the altitude and any symptoms we may have had from that were now minimal. A couple of passes and lake circumnavigations later and we intercepted a trail that led us to Dewey Lake, and back onto our original itinerary. Just having a trail to follow made the hiking easier, even though we still traveled up and down quite a bit of elevation.
Along the trail to Dewey LakeAt one point we came over a small ridge and suddenly Dewey Lake was visible below. It looked like some kind of oasis. The water was a blueish-green, bounded by tall pines which gave way to high granite peaks all around. We'd kept a great pace coming down from Glen Lake and after we set up camp had plenty of time to relax. I plopped down on a huge rock that jutted out into the water and laid back in the sun, alternately dozing off, reading a book and staring at my surroundings.
That afternoon we met our first fellow backpacker. He had a camp just over a large rock from ours and was a local (from Red Lodge). We spent the next few hours peppering him with questions about the area, the wildlife, the people, the economy and anything else we could think of. His name was Dave as well so we dubbed him "MontanaDave". It turns out MontanaDave is a painter and was on a week long solo fishing trip. I think we amused him.
That night we all went to bed feeling very refreshed and ready to continue on. It was our coldest night as far as air temperature goes. At about 4:30AM my thermometer read 24 degrees inside my tent.
That afternoon we met our first fellow backpacker. He had a camp just over a large rock from ours and was a local (from Red Lodge). We spent the next few hours peppering him with questions about the area, the wildlife, the people, the economy and anything else we could think of. His name was Dave as well so we dubbed him "MontanaDave". It turns out MontanaDave is a painter and was on a week long solo fishing trip. I think we amused him.
That night we all went to bed feeling very refreshed and ready to continue on. It was our coldest night as far as air temperature goes. At about 4:30AM my thermometer read 24 degrees inside my tent.
Camp at DeweyDay #5
Just before day break I got up and got our little camp fire started. It was cold! I could have stayed at Dewey Lake for the next few days but we needed to keep hiking if we were going to keep with our plan. The weather that 5th day, like the day previous, was gorgeous. You could rarely find a cloud in the sky and it was such a deep and vibrant shade of blue we stopped and commented on it for a while. It's no wonder the term "Big Sky" applies to Montana. On day 5 we hiked around and over and through and past Fossil Lake (back up above treeline), Fizzle Lake, Basin Lake, Skull Lake, Ouzel Lake and finally down to Russell Lake and our camp for the night.
Chilly morning at Dewey Lake
Just before day break I got up and got our little camp fire started. It was cold! I could have stayed at Dewey Lake for the next few days but we needed to keep hiking if we were going to keep with our plan. The weather that 5th day, like the day previous, was gorgeous. You could rarely find a cloud in the sky and it was such a deep and vibrant shade of blue we stopped and commented on it for a while. It's no wonder the term "Big Sky" applies to Montana. On day 5 we hiked around and over and through and past Fossil Lake (back up above treeline), Fizzle Lake, Basin Lake, Skull Lake, Ouzel Lake and finally down to Russell Lake and our camp for the night.
Chilly morning at Dewey Lake
Beautiful scenery along the way
It just doesn't get much better than thatWe were feeling relaxed and full of energy after the sun set so we decided to keep the fire going and hang out a bit. Joe played a little on the harmonica, we passed a flask of Jameson and chatted into the night. At one point Dave got up to break up a few more branches to toss on the fire and that's when we had our first real accident. When he stomped down on a piece of a stick, a small twig went through his shoe and up into his foot. It was far enough in that when he howled and lifted his foot, the whole branch came up with it. When he sat down and pulled off his shoe and sock, a bright red stream of blood started spewing out of the arch of his foot, keeping time with his heart beat. I used to think I got nauseous at the sight of blood but that night I didn't. Joe and I had identical and immediate reactions: stop the bleeding, clean the wound, bandage it up and keep it elevated. We had it taken care of in no time, and to my surprise Dave was as calm as a Hindu cow during the whole thing. That night I went to bed wondering if we'd put on Dave's bandages too tight, if the pool of blood that we'd managed to clean up would still somehow attract a bear, and what kind of progress we'd be able to make in the morning with a pretty significant injury in the group.
Russell Lake
Camp at Russell Lake, before the foot pokingDay #6
I heard Dave moving around early in the morning and poked my head out to see how he was doing. I believe his exact words were, "I'm in a bad way. We need to get moving.". Well if that doesn't wake you up in a hurry nothing will. We roused Joe, ate a no-cook breakfast, packed up camp and got ready to roll.
Our plan was to have Dave use Joe's trekking poles so he could keep as much pressure off his foot as possible. I was mostly worried that he'd move his foot too much and get it bleeding again. We were also concerned that the only socks he had to wear were pretty grungy at this point and a nasty infection didn't sound like too much fun either. We decided that if we could manage it, we would hike all the way out that day, skipping our last night in the woods and getting ourselves back to civilization as quickly as possible. We were going to hike together for about an hour to get an idea of what kind of pace we could keep, and then Joe was going to go on ahead to try to make it to the road (and a ride), or at least a hitchhike back up as close as possible to where we'd left our car. Then he'd meet us back where our trail met the road and we'd be good to go.
Trees straight like telephone poles on all sides 
Leaving the wilderness area and looking a bit scruffy
On the road again... I stole that too, I knowWe didn't stop when we got back to the highway and soon enough we were trudging along the Lulu Pass road. After I don't know how many hours of hiking on a bad foot Dave finally said, "I'm going to sit on this rock. You two go ahead and get the car and I'll be here.". Joe and I kept up our slow and steady pace and continued toward the end of our hike. The sun was really beating down on us (I've got the sunburns to prove it) so we stopped for a second in the shade of a tree to cool off. I was just thinking how it wasn't going to feel right to get back to the car without the whole group intact when from behind us we heard, "HEY!!", and there was Dave, hauling ass up the road, trekking poles flying in the dirt and dust, and a grin on his face. We huffed it the last mile or so together and next thing we knew we were standing beside the same car we'd left 5 days and around 35 miles earlier. The 3 beers we'd left inside were even still cold.
We spent the next two nights in Laurel, MT and had a blast tooling around town, talking to locals and still enjoying the fresh air. At a map shop the owner asked us where we were from. When we told him we came from the DC area he immediately said, "Well go back there and straighten s@&% out!". We saw a strip club in a truck stop and another with a bug zapper and lawn furniture out front. We heard an Irish/Punk cover band with an awesome wireless fiddle player. We ate fantastic $12 steaks and we took long looong looooong hot showers.
Montana is just so completely different from the Mid-Atlantic region that it's hard to do it justice with words or pictures. Everything we saw was infinitely larger, farther, deeper, bluer and colder than snapshots can portray. This was a great "capstone" backpacking trip near the culmination of our very first year enjoying the activity. I think I'll definitely be back to the Rockies at some point, but now the question is, where will we go next year?
-Dave
