Kalispell
The 7-mile hike along the lake was flat and easy. I don’t really even remember anything about it, except for that the lake was really pretty and I held this toad:
We made it to the campground and waited for Songbird and Jeff in the parking lot. They weren’t too far behind us, and the four of us all packed into their tiny 2-door car with all of our packs. I was trapped behind my backpack for the 2-hour ride, and I couldn’t really hear or see anyone.
I wasn’t exactly jazzed about having to go to Kalispell to get Peter a new pack. But Peter had been questioning their decision to go on this hike over the past couple of days, and I was hoping that a new pack would provide a little morale boost. I was jazzed about the prospect of gorging myself at a buffet.
We hopped out at the REI, said goodbye to Songbird and Jeff, and Peter went in to find a new pack. I picked up a couple odds and ends to switch out - a nylon drawstring bag, some gear patches, a couple stakes, and a fuel canister. Peter tried on a few packs while I used the store WiFi to find a nearby buffet. They eventually found a that felt good, and finally said goodbye to their old Jansport.
The only open buffet in town was this horribly exploitative new chain called “HuHot” that is nominally based on Mongolian cuisine (? and yes, the founders are white), but it’s this all-you-can-eat place where you put together a bowl of frozen uncooked meat and vegetables, then shove it in front of an underpaid cook who has to stir-fry it in front of you and then yell “Hu HOT!!” when it’s done. An absolutely soul-crushing experience. I promise I will never go there again as long as I live.
After resupplying at a grocery store, we started trying to catch a hitch back to Polebridge. Peter was still having serious second thoughts about getting back on the trail, so they were dragging behind and not really putting work into the hitching effort.
Our first hitch was in a schoolbus with this angry country/punk kid and his old dog. He took us out of the Kalispell strip-mall hell and toward a small town that would be easier to hitch from.
We made it back to Polebridge in about four or five more hitches - we hopped into a pickup bed, crammed into a van with a family of 7, and went prone in a motorboat (on a trailer). It was dark by the time we got there, and we roamed up the forest road for a while trying to find a spot to camp. Peter was in a really bad mood, feeling hopeless about getting back on trail.
I stayed up for a while repairing my shoes with Shoe-Goo (possibly the most important item in my backpack) and watching the amazingly-clear stars. When I was younger, I always dreamed of going to Montana and looking at the stars. I’m not sure why I dreamed about Montana specifically, I think it just seemed like the most remote place imaginable. I still felt so happy to be there, and I decided that I would plan to continue hiking even if Peter had to drop out.