A Wild Walk: 100 Miles across the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness
Late in the summer of 2026, after a busy summer season of stewardship trips and backcountry trail maintenance projects, I had the opportunity to cross a large portion of the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness on foot, from East Rosebud to East Fork Mill Creek—a journey of just over 100 trail miles. This was something I had dreamed of since I was a youngster sitting in the back of my parent’s station wagon. I distinctly recall gazing south at the light on the ranges as we drove along I-90 and thinking, “man, I’m gonna walk those someday.”
The trip itself was a gift: ten days of absolute beauty during which I never struggled and only got stronger. I knew I’d find beauty in the wilderness and joy in the solitude; what I didn’t expect was the positive impact other the wilderness visitors I met would have on me. Early in the trip, on an off-trail segment near Fossil Lake, I met a group of five people from as far away as Spain being led by a gentleman who grew up in Gardiner. He asked where I was heading and when I told him I was camping near Fizzle Lake he asked if there was any other camping available. I let him know there was some shelter amongst the rocks and sky. Later that afternoon the group arrived and as we exchanged further introductions, I told them I was heading across the AB with Chico Hot Springs as my final stop. They were thrilled at the idea, and after group photos and some good conversations we retreated under a brisk wind and snow to our tents. It snowed and rained all night, and when I awoke from a few short hours of sleep, I noticed a window in the weather so I hastily packed up my Osprey and headed up Sky Top Creek. As I navigated my way up the drainage, I heard echo across the canyon, “GOOD LUCK JARRET – BE SAFE!!” Turning back, I witnessed the group waiving with their entire bodies from the clifftops. It was a boost I can’t describe… I smiled and thought “My God, I get to do this for another eight days.”
At almost every drainage I’d meet other characters. One of my favorite conversations was during six or seven miles I shared with a German thru-hiker named Peter who had walked both the PCT and AT and was hitchhiking across Highway 212 (Beartooth Pass). On the way down to Frenchy’s Meadow, I encountered a pack train. The lead rider, a .44 Mag on his hip and a full chaw under the lip stopped, looked me up and down, and asked, “Where are you heading?” “Chico!” I responded. He almost swallowed his chew... “You’re going to CHICO! How the hell you getting there!?” I explained my route and mentioned that if I had one of those ponies I'd take me far less time. We had a few laughs, talked trails for while, and when the horses got anxious they rode on. On my final stretch I arrived at Box Canyon and began walking down the Boulder Road hoping for a ride. The very first vehicle stopped. It was a family from Billings who immediately threw me in the backseat of the truck and put cold beverages in my hands. They even offered up the remainder of their cooler for drinks and snacks as I departed up trail to Silver Pass, a serious act of generosity to a total stranger in the middle of nowhere.
One constant across all the many people met along the journey, whether they were on foot, horse, or ATV, was the deeply rooted appreciation for the Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness and its trails. Each person I met spoke openly about the value of our trails and shared personal stories from individual lives that exuded passion for the wilderness. I was grateful for many things on my trip, but the people I met far exceeded my expectations. For me, it was a good reminder that even when you are out in the wilderness seeking solitude or focused on the natural beauty of its mountains and drainages and plateaus, don’t be afraid to look up and say hi once in a while to your fellow travelers. There’s some good folks out there on our trials.
—
Jarret Kostrba is ABWF’s stewardship manager. He lives in Red Lodge.
