Monday, August 9, 2010

Montana Just Got Served, Jane Duncan, Western Wildlands

PPE, check.
Gas, check.
Bar oil, check.
Air filter, check.
Spark plug, check.
Sharp chain, check.
And yet you do not start.
I pour gas and love into you daily, but all you do is cause me pain.
This relationship is beginning to feel onesided- three sharpenings in one day just seems excessive.
I've met someone new, someone who doesn't constantly roar at me and blow smoke in my face.
That's right, I'm leaving you for a cross cut saw, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Thus far our crew has had a chainsaw heavy summer, but our next hitch will be in wilderness with a capital W and we are excited to try our hands at the age old cross cut. Our last hitch turned out to be quite the adventure. On day seven of our hitch (planning on hiking out nine miles on day eight) we hiked up Dome Shaped Mountain on Sawmill trail to cook a macaroni and cheese dinner that would go down in history. There was rumor that a secret ingredient (capers perhaps?) and beautiful sunset would be in order. Instead, we encountered smoke as we climbed up the ridge and upon summit could see a quickly growing fire just a couple ridges away. The radio informed us that a fire was burning about six miles away and was only a ground fire. We were comforted and began to cook....until....the wind picked up, causing the fire to become a crown fire (yes crowning the tops of 50+ foot trees) that was moving very rapidly in our direction. Dinner was promptly canceled, and we began the hike the I can proudly say is the longest I have ever done, AND it is the next day and I can still walk. We scampered the five miles back down Dome Mountain, packed up our camp, and commenced to hike the further 9 miles out to our rig. At midnight we had hiked 19 miles with no dinner or injuries. Montana, you just got served. Oh yeah, we managed to build 50+ water bars too, ahead of schedule. I'd like to see you TRY and erode now Sawmill trail. Booya.

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Take nothing for granted. Not one blessed, cool mountain day or one hellish, desert day or one sweaty, stinky, hiking companion. It is all a gift.
—CINDY ROSS, Journey on the Crest, 1987