PNT Section 5 – Bonners Ferry to Coolin

PNT Day 19 – 400 Blow-downs

Mile 255 to mile 9.5 on the Long Canyon Creek alternate

I look up and smile as Keith snaps a picture of me, my hands and knees planted in the dirt as I crawl beneath one of many blown down trees that obscure the trail. Actually, according to one PNT hiker there are more than 400 blow-downs on the Long Canyon Creek alternate that we will have to navigate around, over, under, or through. Killed by a forest fire and toppled by severe weather the trees that have fallen in the proceeding years haven’t yet been cleared by trail crews on our somewhat obscure little trail.

One may be forgiven for asking why a person would choose to follow a hiking trail turned game of jungle gym twister. A fair question indeed. And the answer my dear reader is that this is in fact the lesser of two evils, by which we are avoiding a 6,000 foot BLANK mile waterless climb from the highway outside Bonners Ferry. So as Keith takes my photo I laugh to myself and remind myself that I choose to be here, and that if I’m being honest, I’m still having a pretty good time.

PNT Day 20 – Birthday

Mile 9.5 on the Long Canyon Creek alternate to mile 277.1

A dirty bundle emerges from Bookworm’s backpack; tobacco, a gift from Ronda, the proud Black Foot woman who gave the three of us a ride to the Eastern terminus. A blessing, enough for each of us to bestow luck on our journey down the trail. I’m delighted that bookworm has been carrying it until now. We each pour a little in our hands then, starting facing east, we each give a yell then toss a pinch of the tobacco in each of the cardinal directions. It feels fun and special to be celebrating our trip this way on this day. Afterwards, we share the birthday brownies my mother sent me. I feel a heartswell of adoration for the wonderful people in my life and an enormous sense of wonder to be celebrating my 37th birthday how I got to today.

PNT Day 21 – Bushwhack

Mile 277.1 to mile 285.2

The bushwhack is notorious. Five miles down a river drainage with no official trail, through brush, bushes, and blow-downs. This median quagmire is positioned solely at our feet. Between the trail we are on now and a road that will take us into Coolin, ID is a literal mystery on our map and just after leaving camp we dive right in.

First we shoot the ridge, steeply up and scrambling hand over hand through bands of granite rock and grassy brush. From this new vantage point I can see down to the glimmering Ball Lake below as well as out to the east where we came from and to the west with it’s looming fire and uncertainty. The trail stops here and we plunge off the side of the mountain into head-high bushes spotted through with evergreens both standing and fallen. Starman is out in front, leading this parade straight into a wall of greenest green. And lead he does. Between following the guide on Far Out and his general sense of route-finding we are able to follow game or use trails about half the time. Still, it takes us nearly seven hours to go six miles.

PNT Day 22 – Coolin’ in Coolin

Mile 259.9 to mile 5.8 on the Jackson Creek alternate

I wake early and tired thanks to an all night wind storm and quickly begin to pack away my things. Starman and I are trying to get on the trail faster each morning and this morning in particular we have lots to do. We hitched into the micro-town of Coolin, ID yesterday with plans to eat, resupply, and get back on the trail but only managed to accomplish one of those things, leaving resupply shopping and hitching back to the trail for today. Luckily Coolin’s size makes it extremely walkable and by 9am we’re fed, our food bags are once again full, and we’re standing on the side of the road with our thumbs out being passed by car after car. “This town feels like a trap,” I say to Starman who sleepily agrees.

Finally after three hours and two separate rides we make it the 19 miles back to the trail and start walking just after noon. We have 15 miles and 1,500 feet of elevation gain before camp but if I could curl up in my sleeping bag right now I would.

The first part of the afternoon finds the trail meandering up and around the shores of Priest Lake. Dappled sunlight slices through the canopy to dance across the pine needle strewn floor while those same branches provide ample shade to keep us cool. We walk past innumerable campsites and my tired body envies each and every set up tent. However, if we want to make it to camp before dark it’s imperative that we keep moving. At one point during the afternoon I try and calorically boost my energy and mood only to be left feeling heavy and, if possible, even more sluggish.

Early evening finds us eating dinner alongside a forest road that we’ll follow for four of the final five miles to camp. After dinner we push, my legs are finally starting to feel stronger and more capable and I’m able to match Starman’s pace as he streams along the road. The road winds and narrows, necking down until we are once again pushing our way through an overgrown trail and only then, beside a small and burbling creek do we stop and set up camp. Finally, after writing this post, I allow my tired spine to unravel atop my crinkly pad and I sleep.