I hiked a mountain on Tuesday. No, seriously. I hiked an effing mountain. Two of my best guy friends and I decided to tackle Lolo Peak which tacks in at just over 9,100 feet. You can go ahead and discuss how awesome I am now. A thirteen mile roundtrip trek, I felt like Lewis and Clark exploring the wilds of Montana. Of course being that I was with two dudes I guess I'd technically be Sacagawea. Whatever. I'm tired of Lewis and Clark anyway. They beat that shit into your brain from a very young age in the state of Montana. I am Lewis and Clarked the eff out.
The North Summit of Lolo Peak. At the time I thought this was where we were going. I was entirely mistaken. We were going somewhere taller and more awesome.
Carlton Lake, located below Lolo Peak's South Summit. About five miles into our hike.
After bushwhacking our way around Carlton Lake we got a pretty sweet view. I say bushwhacking because there was no trail around the lake. There were however LOTS of mosquitoes that were immune to even the densest clouds of bug spray. And I found out I can still do the splits when my legs are forced to do so by two opposing, sliding rocks. That was a painful realization.
Also painful were my Keens. While they were initially awesome - and designed for hiking might I add - they ended up producing a plethora of blisters in areas my feet do not appreciate. I count six blisters. On one foot. It was brutal. Almost as brutal as hobbling around on all those blisters the next day at Hooters. At least my guests thought I was a badass. Oh and for the record I really am a badass.
