June 25, 2024

Caribou Pond to campsite at Judge C. R. Magney State Park

17.0 miles

It thunderstormed last night out of nowhere. One minute I was falling asleep and the next, it was pouring rain and thundering so loud it seemed like it was right next to us. I rearranged the inside of my tent so that everything was in waterproofing in case it started to wet out. In the end I stayed dry except for one random place right under my sleeping pad.

The sky was totally clear in the morning. We took our time eating breakfast and didn’t get moving for another couple of hours. Once we started, I was sore, but way less sore than I would have been without the thorough stretching I did before bed last night.

The morning was beautiful but kinda tough at times. Machine called the trail a car wash because it’s overgrown in places and all the leaves were soaking wet this morning so it felt like going through those huge floppy car wash brushes on either side. There were also several rocky outcroppings with great views. One of these rocky sections was totally covered in daisies! I love a good daisy, so I spent far too long taking photos of them in the morning sun. We stumbled upon a mama grouse with babies at one point. It was very cute.

The hiking was slow going. It was overgrown, muddy, and mosquito-laden in many parts. We stopped for a quick break at North Carlson Pond campsite, but we didn’t last very long before heading out again because the mosquitoes were relentless. More mud, some boards, some roots and rocks, and then we were rounding a corner and out of nowhere the most beautiful breeze I have ever had the good fortune to feel came dancing around the bend just as the path turned into some gently forested aspens on the side of a hill. We spotted the South Carlson Camp on our left and walked up the hill for our glorious lunch spot. I got water at the creek, laid out my wet tent and tyvek, and settled in.

As we were starting lunch we saw someone coming up the camp. A hallucination? No, a real human! The first person we’ve seen on trail! It turned out to be a guy named Ryan from western Canada, not far from Banff, and he was about to finish up his northbound SHT thru. He told us about the crazy flooding farther south and how he’d had to get off trail for a bit due to it. We traded hiking stories and enjoyed the presence of another hiker.

We meant to take a shorter lunch today than yesterday, but the chatting took longer than we realized and by the time we got ready to go again it had been two hours. We were slow and sluggish after lunch, but the trail was pretty, descending through more forest (I really need to learn the names for types of trees and flowers so I can describe them better) and across more overgrown boggy boards. There was a flooded road with an alternate, but we missed the alternate and had to walk on a precarious grassy ledge next to what used to be a road and is now just a creek. As we walked we spotted little fishies and what may or may not have been a leech. Do not want to fall in that water, thank u.

There was a road walk of a mile and a half along a gravel road. Machine and I, starting to go a little loopy, played the Questions game. It’s like 20 Questions, but you’re not limited to 20. My turn lasted forever. “Is it alive?” No. “Is it manufactured?” No. “Is it a mountain?” No. So on and so on. It turned out to be lava. This got the King Gizzard song “Lava” stuck in my head. It was better than the “Happy Birthday” song in Spanish, which had been going around in my brain earlier.

We took another break at Hazel Campsite, and after that, either the terrain was more manageable or the energy from lunch kicked in or something, because that’s when we really hit the gas. We started covering ground like nobody’s business, even though a lot of it was my least favorite terrain on this trail so far: path so overgrown with low plants that you can’t see the ground, so it’s a mystery whether your step will be into mud, on a rock, or over a root. What a grab bag! But I must be getting used to it because it didn’t take us long to get to the Camp 20 road, a true road walk on paved road for two miles. For this road walk we played the animal game: one person says the name of an animal, and the next person has to think of an animal whose name starts with the last letter of the previous animal. “E” and “N” animals proved to be particularly tricky.

The game ended when we went back into the woods. We were out of camping options because this was private property and we were heading into Magney state park, where only camping at designated pay sites is allowed. It was getting late though, so we decided to just have dinner on a bridge over a creek. It was not a comfortable dinner. The bugs were out in full force. Machine found a tick on him, the third one we’ve seen. We ate as fast as we could and packed up again, determined to finish the nearly five miles to the campground at the state park.

It was tough. I was hurting. My heels had been rubbed raw by all the wet muddy boggy spots. My plantar fasciitis seemed to be better today but it still wasn’t pleasant. There was an uphill. We had already gone 13 miles on day thru after a month of being almost completely sedentary following the marathon. I feel like I expected my body to just be able to dive right back into thru hiking mode, even though I would advise any thru hiker of any trail to take it easy for the first week. Yet here I am trying to push a 17 on day 2.

The trail continued to alternate between dry and muddy as it went downhill towards the Brule river. Passing through one particularly muddy spot, Machine commented, “At least the mud is soft!” I laughed. It’s true. It’s gross and makes my skin soggy, but it’s way more comfortable than the punishing road walk was.

Down, down, down, turned a switchback, and then all of a sudden we were walking right next to the mighty river. It was very clearly flooded, though perhaps not as badly as some of the rivers further south, and apparently way less flooded than a couple of days before. But it was an impressive river. The power of it was mesmerizing. We followed it downstream, walking on the eastern bank, the churning sound of the water a pleasant backdrop. It fueled me in a way, and I got into a good rhythm. Step, step, step over a root, step to avoid a rock, step, step.

We passed a flat spot on the left that had very clearly been camped in. It was tempting.

“Should we take it?” Machine asked, eyeing the spot hopefully.

“Nah, we’re almost there, let’s just finish our goal.”

So we sent it. More downhill as the river turned even more violent and headed for the rocks. It churned downward over the edge just as we arrived at a viewpoint with a wooden railing. Behind it, we could see the roiling cauldron beneath the waterfall called Devil’s Kettle. The name is apt. The water sprints downward over the rocks in in a terrifying, violent descent towards the bowl-like basin below, where it falls so quickly that the water turns into a swirling torrent that literally looks like it’s boiling. It was mesmerizing, powerful, and scary.

I tore my eyes away from the sight to read an informational sign. I love an informational sign! This one gave the original Ojibwe name of the river: Wissakode Ziibi, meaning “half-burnt river.” Later it was translated to the French “Brule,” in reference to the state of the forest on either side of the river after a fire.

We continued down some stairs and then up a very, very large number of stairs (in the guidebook it’s simply listed as “too many stairs”) to a lovely flat path that took us all the way to camp. Front country maintenance, baby! It was hard-packed, not as comfy as the mud, but I didn’t have to stare at the ground for an entire eighth of a mile, and we could walk side by side! The luxury!

We crossed a bridge over the mighty river and came upon a parking lot, followed signs to the campsite, registered with the host, and set up our tents. Then we went to the bathroom building and washed off in the showers (!!!) and got to use real toilets (!!!) and wash our hands with real soap (!!!). I got some water from the spigot and then we trudged back to camp to settle in for the night.

It was a rather grueling day, but a very cool one.