Day 143, Rogers Pass/Lincoln to Caribou Peak

Top O' and I were back on the trail by 8:25 a.m. Polecat didn't choose to walk with us today. He said he would meet us in three days at Benchmark Trailhead.

The trail immediately climbed from the pass, which helped me quickly warm up. Starting with a series of switchbacks, the trail climbed 725 feet in the first 1.3 miles.

It didn't take us long before we could look down toward Montana Highway 200, the road that crosses Rogers Pass. It also crosses the entire state and is the longest state highway in the country.

Rogers Pass was surveyed in 1887 for a possible route of the Great Northern Railway. No tracks were built here, however, because Marias Pass was chosen for the railroad's passage across the Continental Divide.

After a short dip, the trail made another climb. This one went to a bald patch of gravel at an elevation of 6,493 feet. From here, the trail would remain exposed for nearly all of the next seven miles and most of the day.

The trail made another steep drop, this time to where a round building stood. It was described in the Guthook app as a yurt, though that is technically incorrect. It was round like a yurt, but the siding and roof were wood. A yurt is typically like a tent, with fabric or skins stretched over a frame.

Researchers use the building to watch raptors, namely golden and bald eagles. The Roger Pass area is on one of the most active flight paths for raptors during their annual migrations. The birds of prey fly north through here during the spring and south during the fall.

Top O' and I stopped at the round building but didn't stay long. When we left, the trail continued along the top of a long ridge and past another building that was likely also used for eagle research.

We continued to make big climbs and descents for most of the day. The rugged, up-and-down terrain with few trees made it possible to see far ahead to where the trail was taking us.

Surprisingly, we didn’t see any hikers all day. Though there were many in Lincoln last night, no one caught up to us and passed us.

We stopped for lunch at a spring on the approaching slope of Green Mountain, but there was just a trickle of water flowing from it. Still, I was able to collect a half-liter to top off my water bottle. This was helpful because the only water sources along today's trail section were far off the trail.

Two miles past the spring was Lewis and Clark Pass, and I arrived there at 1:45 p.m. Despite its name, William Clark did not cross this pass during the Lewis and Clark Expedition. Only Meriwether Lewis and nine other men traveled this way in 1806 on their way home after reaching the Pacific Ocean.

Lewis and Clark didn't know about this pass when they traveled west in search of the shortest route between the Missouri River and the Columbia River. Lewis learned of it from Native Americans on his return trip. The pass was well-known to the Indians because it was a heavily used route across the Continental Divide.

The Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail crossed the CDT at the pass.

Leaving the pass, the trail climbed again. This time the ascent was more like a roller coaster, with frequent short descents before another climb.

This area was severely burned in 2017 during the Alice Creek Fire. The fire was one of several in a severely dry year, burning more than 1.25 million acres in Montana. The fire completely closed the CDT, and thru-hikers were forced to reroute their walk to follow Highway 200 out of Rogers Pass.

Around 5 p.m., the trail took me high up another ridgetop. As I walked and enjoyed the distant views in this open space, I noticed large birds circling high in the sky. They were catching thermal uplifts, which allowed them to lazily soar above me.

They appeared large enough to be raptors, but they were too far away for me to tell that for sure. Golden eagles return to this area during their migration south between September and November, though I think it was too early for them to be here. Researchers say they are usually in this part of Montana during the third week of October.

Nevertheless, I stopped for a few minutes to watch the birds circling above me. I was envious of how they floated through the air so effortlessly and carefree.

For the moment, I was walking along the southern boundary of Scapegoat Wilderness, and the trail was about to cross into it. I could see from there much of its 239,000 acres. I would be walking in the wilderness area for the next few days.

Scapegoat Wilderness has a notable claim to make. It was the first one created by public pressure. Bulldozers were set to move into the area in 1963, where they would cut forest roads to open the land for timber harvesting. They would have soon moved in, but more than 300 local citizens turned out to protest the logging plan during a public meeting in Lincoln.

A long and bitter fight started that day and didn't end until nearly 20 years later. That's when Congress passed a law to establish the wilderness area, which protects forever the vast expanse I saw before me.

On the left of my view was a mountain that almost looked like a pyramid. It was Caribou Peak (8,755 feet), and the trail would pass across its southern slope.

Far in the distance and near the center of my view was Scapegoat Mountain (9,202 feet), the namesake and highest peak of this wilderness.

By 6:30 p.m., I still had not reached the slope of Caribou Peak, which is where Top O' and I thought we might look for a campsite. There was a small lake below the summit, and although it was reported to be dry, we hoped to find water in a nearby stream.

When I reached the lake an hour later, it was dry and dusty. I wasn't out of water yet, and I expected to find the lake dry, but this was still an unpleasant sight. There was barely any available water along the trail today, and I didn't want to go much longer without it.

When I found Top O' around a corner, I thought at first he had found some water. He was just stopped there to cook his dinner.

We were both nearly out of water, but we had enough to get by for tonight. According to the map, we should be able to find some tomorrow. Getting there will require going off the trail a couple tenths of a mile.

This had been a long and tiring day, and I had no more energy tonight to look for water. I climbed 6,159 feet and descended 4,280 feet while carrying the weight of a fresh resupply and extra water.

I didn't have wide wings to ride thermals high above the ridge. Still, my feet were sufficient to carry me nearly 19 miles today. They should be good enough to go the rest of the way to Canada.