My feeling of uncertainty upon waking up was reflected by the foggy, drizzly weather. I saw that Buddy Backpacker and his entourage had made it to the camp - their matching sporty visor hats were hung up to dry in the campground’s USFS pit toilet.

I backtracked the 0.6 miles back to the forest road and found the turn-off for the Whitefish Divide Trail. The trail’s ridiculously-steep ups and downs along a narrow ridgeline were a lot more interesting than the monotonous forest road walk I had just left. I took it slow and soaked in the views.

I leapfrogged with the Buddy Backpacker Consortium a few times. They passed me while I was taking a break on the ridge, and when I ran into them later they were fighting against their phone GPS, trying to get their bearings among the trail’s constant unmarked junctions. It seemed like they were starting to get pretty frustrated.

I was still coming down from the high of Glacier National Park’s non-stop dramatic vistas and bare cliffs, and I was feeling the weight of being alone. I was desperate for company. I kept hoping that Buddy Backpacker, LLC would catch up.

The trail went through a recent (2018) burn area for a few miles; the climb up Mount Locke was an obstacle course of downed trees. I stopped to eat lunch on the peak (0086P) exactly as the sun started peeking through the clouds. For that hour, everything felt right. I basked in the light and spread out all of my gear to dry. There was debris from an old lookout cabin there.

The sunlight didn’t last long. By the time I cut off of the ridge, it was already gone, and I could see dark storm clouds rolling in. There was a nice camp spot at the Blue Sky Creek crossing (0089P), but I decided to push on toward the next forest road, hiking through my loneliness. I followed the creek on a slightly-downward-sloping road bed, hiking at top speed as the storm clouds came closer.

The rain finally came when I was about a mile and a half from the road, thoroughly drenching me and wiping away any memory I had of the sun’s warmth. I set up in the rain again and went to sleep before dark.

I woke up a little bit later to the sound of footsteps. The rain had stopped, and the Buddy Backpacker Association had arrived. I was so glad to see other hikers, it didn’t matter that we had absolutely no connection. I poked my head out to greet them. They seemed totally dejected at that point - I think the rain had gotten to them too.

Even though I was still basically alone, I was happy to have some company. It was only another day and a half of hiking before I would make it to Eureka.