It was early morning and we were walking along a back gravel road when, as often happened, a passing truck slowed so the driver could chat. It was a farmer with a white beard and plaid shirt. We gave him the usual explanation of how the trail we were hiking was closed due to fires, and that this road was a way around the closures. He seemed both quite curious and a little surprised. After our brief conversation he drove on, and we assumed that was the end of our encounter. It wasn’t.

A couple of hours later, around 11:30, his truck pulled up alongside us again, and the window rolled down. “Are you hungry?” he called to us. “I brought you lunch.” He smiled widely as he handed us fresh tomatoes, buns, and chicken out the window. We tried to express our surprised thanks, but he brushed it away. “I’m a Montanan,” he said, as though that explained everything. He wished us luck on the rest of our hike and drove away, leaving us to feast on the delicious food. Apparently, trail magic isn’t just found on the trail!

The rest of our roadwalking has gone by quickly and we’re nearing Canada now, which is apparently a great time for Murphy to show up. We’ve been hit with a giant winter storm which has been dumping almost two feet of new snow in the mountains over the last couple of days. We took an unplanned zero day today in a warm motel room, watching the snow blow horizontally past our window all day long. The snow is supposed to stop by tomorrow, though, and we’re going to hit the road again and enter Glacier National Park. We should have less than a week left!