Yesterday on the Montana and Idaho border near Yellowstone National Park, Gus (our black dog) and I hiked up Mile Creek Canyon inside Henrys Lake Mountains. At the lower elevations of 7000 feet the autumn colors were past prime, but still gorgeous. If I had not been carrying a load, I am certain the 12-mile round-trip hike to the Continental Divide would have been much more enjoyable. Gus however might not agree with my assessment. Almost 24 hours later, he is still lying in the TV room recovering. He wasn’t carrying anything, but his aging body.
For my part, while it could have been worse, I too failed to come out of the canyon unscathed. My left back thigh hurts the same as does the small of my back. There is a monster blister with the skin already ripped off on the absolute front of the middle toe on my left foot. There is also a quarter coin sized large blood filled blister on the left side of my big toe on the right foot. The foot problems are compliments of a pair of mountaineering boots I had not worn for at least one year. I wore the damn things because my other non-winter pair developed a hole in the leather just above the rubber sole. Yes, and it would appear that I sometimes need to go back and relearn a previous harsh lesson.
On the upside, the photo opportunities were close to excellent. The hike also placed me one more notch closer to being ready for the 460-mile winter trip. Out of the 27 autumn trips to be undertaken, only 5 remain.
In the meantime, a replacement pair of mountaineering boots will arrive the first part of next week. There is also a good possibility; they will be leaving their first hike tracks in freshly fallen snow. I will be traveling to the southern Bitterroot Range near the Big Hole Valley of Montana on October 1 or 2. Once again, I will be on the Continental Divide, this time near the Darkhorse Lake area.
No, Gus will be staying home with the other old dog, Reverend. Like most of the previous trips in the last month, this aging dog will be going solo. I will miss my companions and don’t relish being alone.