Week 9: The Bleeding Edge

Salida to Leadville

June 22nd – June 30th

102 miles

Day 50: Zero 8?

Our pals hoped to make it in yesterday but didn’t. Pooch, Snakes and I went downtown for the day. This is the second town which is not a desolate pack of crap.

Ridiculously, snow was forecast for today (day two of summer). Making the decision over our next moves even more difficult.

We mooched about the thrift stores, the outfitters where snakes bought boots (Thanks Llynne) to put an end to those frozen hoofs, and to a coffee shop to act as normal people do on a Saturday.

Not even half way.

The owner gave us some complementary peanut chocolate ball things. Probably because we looked homeless and hungry.

We’re packing for 5 days and presuming our mileage may drop to 15 mile days due to the dreaded snow.

We’ve deduced that only about 11 people have continued North from here. Usually 100’s would have been through at this time.

The rest have quit or flipped North to Wyoming or Canada and are now hiking south, hoping for the snow to melt by the time they reach Colorado.

Pooch has decided to take the bike route and will road walk the rest of Colorado. Pooch is a mentalist. After a successful and conservative resupply we rewarded ourselves with pick and mix beer at a brewery.

Snakes and I decided, Nunney, (our home village) requires a bar such as this and that our future lies in this incredible idea.

The Nunney tap.

Sounds good yeah?

After a few joyous hours we were joined by Leigon, Maps and Cliff Jumper. All not dead. Great news. redwing on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen and had not been heard of, so was re-named, Deadwing.

We went for Cambodian food because I’m beyond bored of American. (And I’m in charge). Its was incredible.

Baby food arrived too.

All the new arrivals were adequately flustered and glazed after the last ridiculous and perilous section. We all shared our near death experiences and the wonder that was the Monarch pass gift store.

Straight off trail, into this, at Monarch Pass.

CLAP (Maps and Cliff), Legion, Baby Food and Pooch are all zeroing tomorrow. We were planning on leaving, but, figure life is more fun and safe with pals so will zero again too, so as to attempt to leave as a group again. Double zero is the new Nero.

Day 51: Zero 9

Today went like any other zero. We did a lot of lounging in the morning. I updated my music for most of it.

The Lodge breakfast was another hilarious joke. It’s like a 5 year old birthday party spread. I brought what I though was enough for both Snakes and I back to the room, then she disappeared and came back with this:

We left for downtown.

Salida (‘exit’ in Spanish, and named as such as it’s the town before the river exits the valley) is an old mining town, like all the towns we passed through.

Unlike the others, when the mine closed the town was gentrified and became Chaffee Counties recreational capital. It’s extremely liberal, with micro brewery’s on most corners. A heaven for hikers, bikers and kayakers.

Snakes and I mooched about town like normal people. It’s a very moochable place. We bought a picnic from the store and sat by the river, before rewarding ourselves with another trip to the Tap House to write post cards.

Pooch arrived having hiked 23 miles from the pass (where we got off trail) into Salida, down the highway. He’s keen on continuous footsteps to Canada (as are we) and intends to take the bike route from here so had to join the dots.

Clap and Legion arrived and together we did a great deal of nothing.

Maps Contacted a local trail angel who gives rides to hikers, to and from the trail and organised a pick up for tomorrow morning.

A lot of pizza was then consumed before returning to our hovel.

Snakes and I watched as Clap emptied their packs, full to the brim with their resupply. If there is anyone who likes food more than me, its these two total maniacs who have purchased more food than they have blood cells.

Day 52: The Collegiate loop

We told Tom, the trail angle, we needed to go to the post office when it opened, so would meet him there at 8:00am, he suggested he pick us up and take us there, wait for us to faff, then take us to the pass. What a guy.

He arrived at 7:25am and drove us there. Snakes and I had no faff to complete so offered to get coffees. Tom insisted on driving us to his favourite place while Clap sorted their boxes.

Tom refused to let me buy him his muffin and instead insisted he buy our coffees. He overpowered me.

He’s an almost retired doctor and has been running hikers up and down to the trail for 3 years. He’s seen far, far fewer hikers this year due to them all flipping or quitting.

Maps says we are the bleeding edge of what is possible. Maps knows what’s what.

Baby food arrived to join us for the journey back to the trail.

Baby food, all set.

After Clap had faffed about with their mail we set out back to Monarch Pass.

On arrival we were all involuntarily sucked into the gift shop. Wooden beer can fish shaped wind chime anyone? Wolf hoodie? Monarch pass bumper sticker? Sequin purse? Horrible weak pissy coffee?

Baby Food found a sneaky alternate route which saved us walking down the paved highway. It involved walking a mile back on the CDT from where we’d come, then turning north east down a snowy valley. It worked perfectly and before long we’d arrived at the Collegiate trail, our escape from the snow.

Due to Snakes informing me of more intricate details of her early life, we were 10 miles into our day in a flash.

Maps, Baby Food Snakes and I began setting up for lunch. And it is a set up. ‘Maps Wraps’ has become somewhat of a ‘thing’. If your lunches don’t involve at least 18 different ingredients, you can’t hike with us. Sorry.

The day ascended mostly and was stunning but tough going. We wound over perfectly maintained trail, well signed and beautifully selected. The collegiate was already a breath of fresh air from the CDT, where mainly, you have to guess where you’re going.

We forgot to anticipate the terrain on the last stretch, and factor in the likely scenario in which our mileage drops due to ridiculous hills (mountains). We came prepared this time and anticipated 15 miles per day as we knew not of the conditions and terrain ahead. (remember we’re at the bleeding edge of what is possible).

We made it to 20 miles and arrived to Baby Food’s smiling face in a perfect spot. Maps joined shortly after and we sat and ate around a fire.

Increasingly we worried about Cliff as she was yet to show up. Probably dead.

She arrived after dark, smiling, as always.

Day 53: Some walking

We were first out of camp and made it 6.5 beautiful miles before breakfast by the river. Clap joined us as we were leaving and informed us Baby Food was still in bed when they left, as per his style. (He need not get up before 10am as his legs are bigger than my entire body).

We’ve seen more day or section hikers in the last two days than in the entire CDT so far.

4.5 miles on would see us in a beer garden having arrived in some weird town.

Snakes and I took a spectacular short cut which saved us, some miles, though saw us heading down a nigh on vertical cliff and crossing a stream .

The beer garden at Princetown hot springs was nothing like the British: picnic benches on lawn with flowers and peacefulness at the back of an old pub, but instead a fenced off bark chipped arena surrounded by building works with an airstream selling burgers.

Who cares they had ale and wine (sold in cans)!

We met a hiker on the CT (Colorado Trail), named Dylan and he sat with us for lunch. If anyone thinks this is a sign, this Dylan is a mild mannered, softly spoken professional footballer. My brother was none of those things. Though Dylan is a very rare name in America.

Clap arrived but no sign of Baby Food, he’s probably still in bed. Or dead.

I decided Snakes wasn’t allowed another pint of wine, though she was adamant she required one. I managed to convince her to leave by suggesting we pack out a tin each for dinner.

Onward and upward.

We have a sweaty climb ahead. I saw a shortcut on a minor road. When we arrived at the turn off a large ‘No Trespassing’ sign stopped us in our tracks. Returning to the proper trail would add on about a mile and involved going back down the hill we just walked up. This was clearly not an option.

We hiked up the road and came to no harm.

I messaged Clap to warn them for I knew trespassing affects Maps’ aura.

A little further on and at the top of the hill, Cliff Jumper stood, having just got out of a golf buggie. She too tried for the shortcut but got caught.

The ranch was an outdoor adventure centre currently with a group of Christian youths. The owners couldn’t have random hikers on site so Cliff (who at 5ft 1, is rather threatening) was escorted to the top of the hill.

Maps on the other hand, who could talk her way out of a Brazilian prison, convinced them that, regardless of her trespassing, she was in no way getting in a vehicle and that she would prefer to walk to the top, thank you very much. We all hiked the rest of the day roughly together, Dylan included.After a small rain and snow shower, and a tiring descent, we landed at the river in a valley. A fire ring lead us down to a flat patch.

We made a camp, and a fire and enjoyed Ramen noodles, a tin of wine and placed bets on when Baby Food would arrive.

The correct answer, was: never.

22 miles on the day.

Day 54: Ascending is my favourite

Today, we knew, was to be a big, tall, whopper of a day. We mentally prepared for this by pretending we were happier than we were about the matter.

We had a 6 mile climb to start the day, and the last 3 miles saw us going up 2,500 feet. We’d anticipated a breakfast break before the top, but it was too tempting to sit smugly at 3,600m eating cinnamon toast and drinking coffee, so we pushed for that.Dylan, Maps and Cliff joined us in celebration. We started off downhill, returning back to precisely the same elevation from when we started.

We had about 0.7 miles of snow for which waterproof socks and microspikes outdid themselves with helpfulness. Unless you’re Maps, in which case you spend a lot of time on your butt regardless.

The descent was a stonker. Painfully so. We performed lunch at the very bottom. The trail rose up from here steeply again, but now my tummy was shamefully full of bagels.

Another 3 miles of up, and we arrived at a set of Lakes. We walked to the furthest as it was the western lake, now in the sun and more sheltered from wind.

We planned to swim, but on arrival hesitated as the lake, although crystal clear, looked shallow and rocky. Two women sat on the edges suggested we should, because it would be great. This advice from strangers was enough and within minutes we were in.

Almost as good as soap.

We sat on the banks for an hour drying off and chatting to the two women, in charge of 15 girls on a 4 day summer camp. Comparatively to us and our tranquil, self contained, independent existence, this sounded like madness. But then I remembered that’s pretty much what I do for work.

We hiked on 3 more miles to Frenchman Creek. How do these places get their names?!

The junction before was mildly confusing so we left a big note for Clap, who will now be known as Claps, to avoid confusing these ladies with a common vanerial disease.

Dylan was at camp and Clap joined us shortly after. I collected fire wood. You can pretty much put a match to a log and it will burn out here. Lighting fires is child’s play. Which is probably why thousands of acres of wilderness burns to ashes every year in the US.

We talked over matters of un-imortance. Its all just so easy.

Day 55: Leg day

We left camp at 6:30, not a peep from the other 3 tents. We finished the climb we started yesterday and dropped over 4 miles down to breakfast in a meadow.

The coffee we’re drinking currently tastes like poop. If anyone fancies sending me a care package of coffee or a coffee filter, that would be just great, thanks.

We began our ‘main’ climb after this. Music is medicine to me, I rarely listen to it while in actual wilderness, but save it for when I need saving. However, for this climb I put on the playlist selected by my mother, and it felt like she was pulling me up the hill. Thanks Ma.

Over the top and down the other side. Another steep decent to lunch by the river. We have bagels and they are beautiful.

From here the terrain became fairly exposed. It was a super hot day and became reminiscent of the desert.

Another climb.

Another decent.

Another climb.

I’m at the point where it all feels roughly the same.

Except downhill, no one likes that.

Maps and Dylan (now Spam) caught up to us during our afternoon break. We merged for 2 more miles until we arrived at one of the two beautiful Twin Lakes.We found a perfect spot and after a speedy tent erection we all got in the Lake. It ultimately did very little to mask the ever-growing odours. But it did a lot to momentarily convince us otherwise.I built a fire while Snakes collected water. The night went like any other. The Ball Busters broke out, and this time it was Spam’s turn and his huge tube of toothpaste was the target.

Day 56: Twin Lakes

We treated ourselves to a lie in. After automatically waking up just before 6, we slept again until 7. It was a gloriously comfortable night.

3.5 miles along the lake edge, through woodland, saw us at the junction to Twin Lakes (the town not the lakes) . We took the shortest of two options for shortcuts, which meant a river crossing.

I took advice from comments (left by previous hikers on the app), which suggested it was knee deep in 2018. After the magnitude of the snow this year, what could possibly be any different?

0.5 miles down the track, and half way to the small town of Twin Lakes we came to the river. I managed half of the width of it, my feet freezing in the snow melt. It became clear it was deeper than me. I imagined my body floating off downstream in its rapid flow, never to be seen again. We retreated. Back 0.5 miles the way we came to try the longer route.

Bums.

We made it to Twin Lakes without injury. And we’re greeted by Baby Food and… Other hikers! We met Cat Lady, Ocatillo, Sweets and HD.

Since I hiked the Pct in 2013 ‘fist bumps’, have become commonplace when introducing oneself to others.

I don’t like a fist bump as I am no longer 15 years old.

Besides which, I have always enjoyed the hand shake. It allows, not least a small connection with the person on the receiving end, but also a moment in time in which you can confidently judge them on what kind of a human they are. (Clammy, limp, firm, ego maniac).

The fist bump evolved, as it was considered that all hikers are filthy vermin who poop and wee all over themselves and you have no idea what you’re letting yourself into when offering or accepting a hikers hand in yours.

So really, if someone offers a fist for you to ‘bump’ on trail, they are happily letting you know that either they’re covered in poo, or that they think you are.

I carry antibacterial hand gel and so am prepared to mop up after any scenario.

Cat Lady shook my hand.

We like Cat Lady.

For here on in I will endeavour to wrap my filthy mit around anyone who offers me a fist to bump.

We swiftly resupplied in the very expensive but very well equipped store which is run by a very nice man. Usually in stores on trail, we panic buy. On this occasion we were oddly conservative.

We only have two days to Leadville. To reward us for being filthy trash, the proprietor gave us a free sewing kit and 4 mayonnaise sachets. Thanks Bob!

We went to the burrito van and bought breakfast with coffee. Claps and Dylan soon joined us.

We had some chores to short.

I’ve purchased a new pair of shoes and a screen protector for my phone. My phone has found itself falling on the floor too many times for comfort.

Neither of these things have been delivered to Leadville as expected as UPS are beyond useless.

Completing any other task other than walking, deciding where to poop, looking at a map or collecting water is just too hard.

After many phone calls Snakes took over. Who knows what she did but my shoes are arriving in Leadville on Monday.

I’ve know idea when Monday is but I reckon shes sorted it.

Maps informed us of two beautiful bits of information. One was a shortcut which cuts out any paved road walking back to trail, and the other was about cartons of wine being sold in the store.

Eventually we left Twin Lakes.

On the shortcut, 1 mile in, and a ways before we were supposed to turn off the dirt road, we saw a post with ‘CDT’ etched into it (by hand) we took this trail as we are now drawn to those three letters.

We are now on a shortcut of our shortcut with no map corresponding to the trail we are on, or any idea if this will spit us out on the CDT or not.

But when a hand drawn sign on a post tells you to do something, you do it.

All ended well and we rejoined our faithful friend before long.

Most of today was climbing. As late afternoon drew on, the weather turned and light rain began.We set up camp just in time before it got more serious. We left signs for our pals.

Baby Food, Dylan (now Spam) Sweets, HD and Maps soon arrived.

Our little tent home is so perfect. More perfect with two little boxes of wine.

16 miles on the day.

Day 57: Screw snow

We set out today with high hopes of making it 4 miles out from the end of this section. (20 miles total). The terrain was undulating with over 1,500m of ascent, but laid out in a reasonably kind fashion.

We caught Maps who left uncharacteristically early, by about 5 miles in, and stopped for breakfast at 6.6. This was rudely interrupted by mosquitos, who in fact love the taste of citronella and DEET.

Time flew by as we chatted up the hill. We arrived at the expected snow at 11.5 miles on the day, and had to make our own trail as previous footprints had all melted. Maps and I alternated breaking trail. We were walking at about 1mph on a steep ascent through boulders of snow drifts.We made it to the top and celebrated with a swift high 5 and some MnM’s.

Sweet and HD soon arrived and after a chat, they set out on the decent.

Maps said she’d bet money on the snow ending in 2.3 miles. Maps was a reliable source for such bets.

We soon caught up to Sweet and HD, half way into a steep traverse.

I stupidly offered to take over in front breaking trail (again) and this was swiftly accepted.

A steep traverse lead us to a particularly intimidating slope which looked avalanche ready.We tried to pick our way down a stream, disturbing the snow as little as we could. Which was a lot of disturbance.

The next 4 ish miles were brutal.

Postholing, ice shards in shin, wet feet, scratches, concern for breaking my femur, tumbles, glissading, fallen trees hidden under snow, icy river crossings and F@£&#%G mosquitos.

Just about when I’d had enough of navigating through thick tree filled snow covered wilderness, the snow ended. Right where Maps said it would.

2 miles in 2 hours.

I hope the 7 known hikers behind us follow my incredibly well thought out footprints. Lucky bastards.

We hiked a other 2 ish miles unable to stop for fear of ingesting yet more mosquitoes which are probably my least favourite insect (my favorite being the bee).We finally found an established fire ring and lit the world’s fastest fire.

Sweet and HD soon joined us. We all collected a supply of wood in a mad panic. The fire did almost nothing to discourage the flying fuck-heads. They were practically flying through the flames to eat me.

We had an extremely well deserved and incredibly un-enjoyable dinner. I drank the rest of the wine from my bladder before swiftly escaping to our beautiful tent.

These are the worst mosquitoes ever.

I hate them.

19.3 miles on the day.

Day 58: Leadville

This is the first night I had trouble sleeping. The bladder of wine did not fulfill its purpose. We left camp at 6:30am, leaving HD, Sweet and Baby Food (who arrived in the night) sleeping. Maps had left already. It was a swift 4.7 miles to the trail-head.

We arrived first, having likely passed Maps while she pooped. As is the rules of hitching, we would therefore would be first to get a ride. Cat Lady and Ocatillo arrived after us.

We had a ride within half an hour. And went straight to the breakfast spot our Spanish only speaking driver recommended.

Taz Baz, our pal from New Mexico, joined us.

Before doing anything of any importance and while smelling putrid, we went shopping. Snakes got some town shorts, I bought a new shirt for fear of mine combusting.

Yup, odd faun / vomit coloured shirt is dead.

Leadville was a nice town. With a brewery. Thank heavens.

The one bad thing about towns: you can’t just pull down your pants and wee wherever you want.

We checked into the hostel where we’d pre-booked a room for 6. Laundry and showers commenced.

Finding a good set of town cloths is a struggle, unless you’re Baby Food..

We’ll be here for the night, and as ever, making important decisions about the trail ahead, currently still under a lot of snow, and at yet higher elevation.

We hope to hike out tomorrow, as we’ve clearly had too many zeros.

Or maybe we’ll just live here, and form a band.