Week 8: Trying not to die

Del Norte to Salida

June 16th – June 21st

121 miles

John Steinbeck said:

Once a journey is designed, equipped, and put in process, a new factor enters and takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys. It has personality, temperament, individuality, uniqueness. A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. Tour masters, schedules, reservations, brass-bound and inevitable, dash themselves to wreckage on the personality of the trip. Only when this is recognized can the blown-in-the glass bum relax and go along with it. Only then do the frustrations fall away. In this a journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.

An old friend sent me this before I left for this trip and in the current climate, it seems no more apt than right now.

–

Day 45: Zero 7

We woke and slipped into an unplanned 7th zero day. Oops.

Cliff needed boots and offered to get gas for us all on her hitch to Alamosa with Maps. We were keen to leave for this next possibly treacherous section in a group. So kindly offered to stay in Del Norte doing nothing at all while they ran errands.

Cliff Jumper, Redwing, Bambi, Maps, Pooch

There have been a lot of mixed messages about the likelihood of death on the next section. To avoid this some have road walked 60 miles on a highway hoping to evade such perils. Some have plugged on and hated life, while very few, if anyone has made it through with no issues.

We’ve discussed the matter and decided we might all die on the mosquito infested highway walk anyway, so figured we could at least attempt the high route. Knowing we have potential bail out options. We’re told the last 19 miles are the worst.

Wet, boggy, slushy, snowy, postholey conditions are expected. Apparently its beautiful but hard.

More issues for future me.

On a lighter note, I had a huge, delicious burrito for breakfast. It was bigger than my stomach, or, it was until it was inside it.

We returned to the café we are staying in and lounged about on the veranda sketching and the like.

We still have 67 ish miles of the Great Divide Alternate before things get serious.

We’re taking 6 days of food for the 121 miles to be safe, though we made do this section quicker. My food bag is larger than my Godson.

After much of not very much, and while enjoying the peace, our pal Legion arrived making us 7 in the cafe that is no longer a cafe.

He joined in the nothing.

It has been decided (not by either of us I hasten to add) that our collective name when being talked to as a pair, or talked about is: the ‘Ball Busters’ on account of us both taking the piss out of everyone we meet almost instantly after meeting them.

Cliff Jumper quietly confessed she was a little left out, as her balls had yet to be busted by us. Until I pointed out a recent occasion which proved her entirely wrong. She said ‘Oh I feel better now ‘.

We should start charging people.

Snakes in her ball busting office

At around 4pm we all decided it must be happy hour somewhere and so Maps got to work identifying where.

A small Mexican restaurant, half price margaritas.

The food menu had more choices than could ever possibly cooked to any kind of quality.

The waiter (who was about 15) took one drink order at a time, then disappeared to make it. Returning only once it was made, or when he’d forgotten what the order was and had to reconfirm.

Maps’ margarita was sweet and had brandy in it. I’m no mixer but isn’t that wildly incorrect?

Snakes ordered a wine. After a good 16 minutes we were informed they were out of the two whites they had, he offered one other bottle, but wasn’t sure if it was white or red…. He suggested “its got a cork in it”, so that clarified things.

Possibly the only time in the history of me, that have been to a restaurant and not eaten or drunk anything.

Those that did order food, luckily had their plate of ‘yellow’ with in minutes and so we could leave swiftly for the brewery where real food and drink was served by people through puberty.

I’m a horrible snob.

Baby Food arrived just as we were sat down to eat – he always seems to appear behind us when I think he’s in front…

If you’re ever in Del Norte…

Day 46: Thirty’s dirty

Today we needed to leave as quickly as possible to avoid being sucked further into the town vortex.

I prepped the coffee machine the night before and switched it on this morning at 5:45.

Snakes and I were the first out at 6:36, though everyone was up shuffling about.

We had a few miles on road out of town, we’d spotted a shortcut which for 2 extra road miles would cut a few trail miles. We popped out on the dirt road we intended, and hiked on.

Out packs were fully loaded and as such felt like baby elephants. Because of this we stopped for an early lunch to consume a 6th of the 6 ingredients that went in my TWO ginormous lunch wraps. Each individual wrap weighted 76g. That’s almost twice the weight of my pillow, per wrap. Aka ridiculous.

I ate my full quota, even though after two days in town I wasn’t in need of any calories. We also packed out a beer, because we’re clever.

We hiked on feeling fat, bloated and gassy.

Taking another possible shortcut, by turning left up to a trail-head off our route, we managed to cut about another mile off and experience the wonderful Penitente canyon. This was most certainly the best part of the trail for a couple of days.

When we splashed out onto the road back on trail, it was paved, yet another conformation that the sensual shortcut was worth it.

It began to storm, as expected. While cowering under a tree and our umbrellas for a break, Redwing passed us, then Pooch. They tried to convince us to hike to the campground 10 miles up the trail putting us at 33 miles out of town.

I hate those guys.

We passed our 25 mile target at ‘Hells Gate’ at 4:00pm. Too early to stop. I left a note in the sand for the girls, Cliff and Maps (now collectively known as ‘Clap’ ) leaving notes in the sand/mud/snow is my new favourite thing to do. Other than paved road walking. Gosh I love that.

This says ‘baby’ but cleverly the A is a very acurate representation of our chum Baby Food

Given we’d taken those genius shortcuts it wouldn’t actually be 33 for us, but something close.

We made it to the campground by 7.

We will probably never see the girls again, and, after they pass us tomorrow, never see the boys either.

That whole chat about doing this section as a group has played out well then.

28 ish miles on the day.

Day 46: My very least favourite, so far.

Today began as any other, I need not tell more on our intricate morning routine. Though, it may interest you to know, we pack up and leave within 27 minutes. And, our first conversation once we depart is always about the contents of Snakes’ dreams. These often have me laughing aloud as she remembers them with quite some detail.

Pooch passed us at mile 2, hiking at a million miles an hour. We’ll never see him again (except that he always takes two days off in town so we always see him again). Redwing joined us for breakfast and had a free relationship counseling session with the mighty Ball Busters. He left skipping down the trail. I think. This is actually the last time we see him.

Onward and the sun turned to vicious wet cloud. We climbed up to a pass and then steadily down for a further 7ish miles.

We lunched after a brief hail storm. Clouds were undecided as to where they were going to drop their load, so just hovered and blew about ominously as I asked them politely to pick a bloody climate.

And it did. It rained and blew on us for the next 11 miles.

We turned left onto the highway and this began my most miserable patch yet.

Anyone who has been a woman, or who has been with a woman, will know: day one of your/her period is the very worst. And hiking 25 miles on this special day is further condemning oneself and all around to miserable misery.

I’m over exaggerating.

But it was crappy.

To add to this it suddenly dawned on me that I will actually never, ever see my brother again. Ever.

So I walked the road trapped with my music choice as I couldn’t get my phone out in case of a drenching, unable to skip the heavy metal in my ears, verging on cold, feet fighting tarmac, womb fighting itself and another 7 miles to go.

All the time reminding myself, this state isn’t permanent.

And, that whatever situation I find myself in out here, its my fault.

Which is sometimes, reassuring.

To top all this off I discovered the ‘cinnamon toast fun cereal bars’ I was very excited about had gelatin in. So now I just have to carry them about until I find an 8 year old to give them to.

One small glimmer of joy was in my 30 minute interlude with Dawn French. If you get the chance, please listen to her desert Island Disks. I challenge you not to laugh out loud.

We arrived in the rain. Of course all campsites in the US are designed for cars so it was another half mile walk up the track, we only really aimed for this spot as it was 25 miles on the day and meant we weren’t sleeping on a highway. The campsite, as per usual, had no water, but benches and a loo.

Benches and a loo would have usually made up for the lack of water, except that we had none on us either.

Luckily I could see three vehicles. After we set up camp, I hobbled to the nearest one.

I was talking with Jim, for a good 15 minutes before I remembered why I went over to him. He offered as much water as we needed. This chap lived in his truck, traveling from camp to camp hiking and existing. He was bodyguard to the Secretary of state, and to Elton John and the Beach Boys while they recorded in a studio in Colorado. He hiked the CDT in 1987. One year before my birthing. We liked Jim.

The sun had some out and everything was now fine again.

Water is happiness enough, but, while eating dinner Jim popped over with 4 cereal bars saying he knew how hungry hikers get. This worked perfectly as I exchanged them with my pig filled cereal bars I couldn’t eat. This pleased him.

Jim then brought over a plastic bag and told us to put all our rubbish in it and leave it on his truck when we leave. He must have sensed how stressed I was at there being no bin at this campsite.

He came back again with some sage brush and told us to use it as deodorant to avoid the chemicals on normal deodorant.

I’m really enjoying Jim.

The fourth visit was to invite us for breakfast tomorrow morning. He said he’d be happy to cook it for 6:00am.

Oh Jim.

After a horrible afternoon I slept incredibly well. Well done me.

Day 47: Revenge of the womb

Breakfast was incredible.

Jim welcomed us over, we sat on his towel as the bench was wet, he cooked hash browns and an omelette with cheese and green chilli. He’d boiled hot water for coffee and gave us both a cranberry ‘breakfast drink’.

This was all completely perfect.

We waved goodbye at 7am, possibly our latest on-trail departure but not by much…

4.5 miles uphill on the highway and Snakes and I successfully worked out our van conversion for when we get home.

The highway crossed the CDT. There was something rather comforting about seeing the blaze again, a feeling of safety even though the trail from here was going to kill us.

For the next miles, give or take, we were pretty much going uphill. I prefer this greatly to roads.

Snakes an I have coincided with our joint and temporary hatred for womanhood today.

The going was tough.

We were lucky with the weather. Actually, luck has very little to do with weather.

The weather was acceptable. It still wouldn’t pick a temperature but I’ll accept wind, and no rain. Thanks.

The trail meandered all day through woodland which was a very welcome change from great vistas.

Patchy snow began, but was easy and avoidable.

On our second to last climb of the day, snow patches increased and started to become annoying.

Fat snow patches at the end of the day result in postholing and a lot of swearing.

Snakes seems to glide above it all while I sink up to my hip and into a river. At one point both my feet had postholed and I was up to my waist. Snakes came rushing to my aid, standing right next to me, on top of the impenetrable snow. She’s an angel.

We were aiming for 20 miles but both of us liked the sound of 18 today.

We ate mushroomy rice. I miss mushrooms.

18.1 miles on the day

Day 48: Hello snow, on my everything.

Today. Oh today.

I hiked like someone better at hiking stole my legs. I felt so good.

It was wonderful to be back on proper trail, in the woods.

We had a day of ups and downs ahead, trying to make at least 20 miles to reduce our final day to 10.

We met Pooch 0.2 miles out of camp, he told us of a cabin at 25 miles…. God damn, this could be cozy, or it could be Blair Which.

Only one way to find out.

The hiking was a breeze, our pace uphill matched our flat and downhill. About bloody time.

We made 16 miles by lunchtime. 9 miles left.

Pooch joined us and we all sat being smug as smug can be.

Me, being smug

Then we were scolded for our smugness.

We entered a patch of snow which lasted one mile and took one hour to complete. The trail was vague as the last hikers came through 5 days ago and their prints had melted. Pooch navigated while I broke the trail (AKA walked in front and made everyone’s lives easier while making mine much harder).

We all made it through unscathed, then I fell in the mud and everyone laughed at me and took pictures. Pooch then lost his phone, and therefore the picture. Karma.

From here snow was patchy but patchy enough to be highly annoying.

AVALANCHE!

Pooch found a handy shortcut so now apparently we owe him sodas.

Our final climb came at 21 miles just after we found a perfectly suitable cabin (not the one we were aiming for) but passed it on the grounds that we wanted a shorter day tomorrow.

1 mile into our last climb and a wall of snow greeted us with the V’s.

This may look like a fairytale, I assure you it’s a bucket of crap.

It took 2 hours to walk 1.6 miles. We were both postholing up to our eyebrows, picking our way through sunken logs and buried trees.

The sun was setting and the cabin seemed a fantasy further from our dirty frozen helpless mitts.

Eventually we came to a clearing a junction where the trail was supposed to gently descend. We met Pooch who’d walked 0.5 miles in the wrong direction, downhill.

We found the trail and continued along the flat. Helplessly postholing every step. We were completely exhausted. Snakes was entering into frozen hoof territory.

Pooch marched ahead bound for the cabin still 0.6 miles (1 year) away.

We were fortunate to see a small snow-less island for our tent.

In minutes we were in our home, encased in thermals with a stove on and noodles primed.

We’re at 3,535m and tonight, it was cold enough that sleeping was tricky.

24.3 miles on the day.

Day 49: Horribly beautiful

We had 7.4 miles to town, but if these miles were like the last 2 before we’d set up camp, we had a shit storm ahead of us.

We woke at 5:00am to get an earlier start while the snow was crisp.

My shoes were frozen, but oddly, felt dry, so I was OK with this.

We hiked out with all our clothes on.

After a mile the footprints ended, this is crap. This means I have to navigate and manage myself in the snow.

We picked our way through the trees trying to remain on the buried lumpy ridiculous trail.

Eventually the trail opened out to a massive beautiful ridge line. The trail winds its was around the south and west side of each of these.

Unfortunately that line was covered in the devil’s dandruff. We opted to climb the ridge and walk up an down each individual peak. This was stunning and knackering.

The initial climb to access to the ridge of joy, was pretty bloody scary. I was pooping my pants, it was so steep and perilous. A fall would have meant certain broken bones, or death. Snakes came after me and I put myself to good use by saying helpful things like ‘you’re great’ and ‘you look lovely’ while really hoping she didn’t fall.

After summiting the last 3,720 meter Mount Peck, we began to finally descend. Steeply. On snow. Gosh damn.

The descent brought us out on a trail only partially snow covered.

I read on the app as we walked in that there was a snack shop at the pass. No news could be better. Snakes thought I was joking and got the shock of her life as we arrived at Monarch Pass.

We made it by 9:30am and sat with a coffee, totally glazed and smugly watching day visitors arrive before getting the gondola up the mountain we’d just descended.

My magic thumb got us a hitch within 30 minutes with a guy names Art who’s business was natural drink mixes which promote activity at altitude. Hoooorah! He gave us some.

He drove us 30 minutes into the town of Salida.

We checked into the Budget Lodge, which at $113 wasn’t budget, but, did have some lovely artwork.

We went with pooch downtown to eat pizza and drink beer in the brewpub.

We’re in discussion about the next section. Though awaiting Maps and Cliff to discuss further. Most hikers have flipped North to Wyoming or to Canada to begin hiking south avoiding the snow. Colorado is due more snow tomorrow.

I’m very keen to continue north as flipping then hiking south will affect my aura.

We’ll take Tomorrow off await our pals, enjoy Salida and make a plan from here. Deers just seem to roam around the houses In Salida.

Almost half way through Colorado!