Week 10: The very edge of the bleeding edge

Leadville to Fraser

June 30th – July 8th

Miles 68 ish

Day 58: Nero (nearly a zero) continued…

After a perfect amount of walking up and down the main street we acquired the best pizza on trail so far.

We retreated back to the hostel to hibernate while Baby Food took the hiker bike (provided by the hostel) and acquired wine. We all snuggled under blankets and watched the Hangover 2. What more could you possibly ask for?!?

A massage, that’s what.

Snakes, Cliff, Maps and Spam

4.7 miles on the day

Day 59: Slowing the bleed

We’d all agreed we didn’t deserve a zero day after our 6 days of perilous and exhausting hiking, so the plan was to head back to the trail today.

The team went for breakfast while Snakes and I sorted gear, made phone calls and drank Baby Food’s beer.

We couldn’t leave the hostel as we were awaiting important mail from the mailman. It was very unclear when he would arrive. Which is an uncertainty which makes me fidgety.

Everyone else left to run errands and resupply.

On route to resupply, Maps found the USPS mail truck doing the rounds.

Maps has an incredibly useful habit of sorting out all my problems.

She accosted ‘Luke’ (the mailman) in the Street and asked him when he would be delivering to the hostel (where we were waiting for him). He said, 3pm.

Given that it was midday, this was WAY too late for us.

True to style, she aquired his delivery route and messaged us his location for 10 minutes time.

Snakes and I motored out the hostel and found Luke, right where Maps said he’d be. He was expecting us and delivered us our mail right on the side of the road.

This is why I’m following Maps to Canada.

We acquired new socks, Snakes got long snow gaiters and I am now on my 4th pair of shoes.

Off we went to the actual post office to bounce some gear up the trail and pick up yet another sock filled package.

Then we had to reward ourselves with coffee.

We executed the most efficient resupply ever and acquired a swift hitch out of Leadville and back to the trail. The guy who gave us a ride had a huge dog, whom I liked very much.

We arrived back at the trail-head first, (as was usually the case due to our incredibly efficient nature) swiftly followed by Maps, Baby Food, Cliff and Spam . Taz Baz was a little way behind getting a hitch (due to his inefficient nature).

10th Mountain division training grounds

We hiked out as a loose group through rough tundra and wood.

New shoes are always a risky business on trail. Breaking them in is a baptism of fire. Usually a big mile day involving snow, river crossing, ascents, descends and heat. If they’re in any way unsuitable, there’s not a lot you can do about it. I’ve gone for a totally new version of the same brand.

They’re feeling a little tight.

We took a break at 5 miles. Spam is unhappy with the incredibly suitable trail name I have given him. But, luckily for him, ‘Wolf Pup’ came up and he goes by that now.

I know, I liked Spam too.

Onward to camp. We eventually found a glorious spot by the river where the mosquitoes were ‘medium’ annoying. Which is markedly better than ‘I want to kill myself’ annoying.

We collected wood for a fire and built camp.

We’d all packed out tin foil squares, pre-filled with oil and spices (thanks to the hostel), an array of vegetables and sausages. We (actually Baby Food, Aka ‘Dad’) cooked this on the fire and it was really, very splendid.

Baby food, we’re trying him on solid food

Sleeping to the flickering flames outside our tent and soft chatter had to contribute to how incredibly well I’d slept (along with having slept horribly for the last two nights)

Day 60: Joy and misery

Snakes has been really suffering with the altitude lately. We’ve remained at over 3,000 meters for some time and she’s not adapting. Continuous nausea and dizziness while hiking up big hills has taken its toll.

Today was no exception. We were climbing right out of camp and to make matter much worse, there was a pretty sketchy early river crossing to negotiate. There was no other option than wet feet, which for me is displeasing, but for her it’s crippling, when that water is 8:00am ice cold snow melt and your feet refuse to circulate blood.

We hiked on and made it up to the snow line. Instead of traipsing on trail through hip deep post holes in the snow, we ascended a near vertical slope to mount the ridge which looked snow free.

Joined now with Maps, Cliff and Taz Baz, we moved as a group.

Upon summiting the ridge, a storm and thunder had developed both to our East and West.

Being at the highest point, on a bare ridge is pretty much the worst place you can be in a storm.

The plan was to motor along the ridge and attempt to get off it avoiding the cornices which had built up on the East slopes, before being struck by lightening (not after).

We had a few humps to overcome (actual humps on the ridge) to make our life much more enjoyable, we were blessed with an incredibly aggressive hail storm.

After the hail cleared the thunder returned.

Snakes was feeling incredibly sick and was finding it hard to remain upright with her vertigo and freezing cold feet.

We eventually got to the first egress point and it was covered in snow, a large cornice had built up right where we needed to descend. We continued along the ridge to look for a better option.

The second point to descend (which we’d identified the night before) , initially looked impassable due to another large overhanging cornice. But, having moved a little further along, one could see how it would be easily mounted and overcome. Thus we would land on a clear snow free run, down off the steepest part of the ridge.

Great news.

As soon as we lost a few hundred meters Snakes condition improved slightly. Her feet warmed now out of the blistering wind.

We were aiming for a mountain hut Handful had warned us about the night before, we hoped it would be warm and full of beer and chocolates, but we’d settle for it actually existing, being able to find it and it being unlocked.

Still off trail we picked our way down large boulders and loose scree before once again plummeting into snow.

I followed old foot prints and we made it to the cabin.

The doors were locked.

We scouted around. I summited the three story back entrance and found door to the the upper level, open.

The cabin was the most incredibly welcome savior on trail yet. It was warm, we lay on sofas, we dried clothes and made copious amounts of tea and coffee.

Taz Baz, the man with all the tea bags.

We hadn’t stopped all morning for fear of death by lightening so we all gorged here on the delights of our food bags.

Heaven.

We stayed for 2.5 hours.

We readied to leave. 6.7 miles gently downhill to Coper Mountain Ski resort where we knew there would be beer.

This was good news.

I also managed to cut off 0. 8 miles by initially following the river rather than the trail.

We spent most of our time off trail anyway….

At over 3,000 metres Snakes was still feeling grim.

After an initial few hundred metres postholing through snow, we came out on trail. Patches of snow remained and we could easily negotiate these.

We arrived at Copper Mountain Ski resort and plonked ourselves down at the closest bar.

Snakes and I made the decision that we needed to change our route for a few days to remain at the lower elevation. She needs a bit of time to recover. There is a conflicting theory that she may also have a stomach bug, or giardia. To work this out we need to try and remain at 3,000m or lower on trail.

After a hefty meal, we split from our beloved group. We will see them tomorrow in Frisco, we’re just taking a different route there. Theirs is 20 something miles up and over a mountain, ours is 8 along a cycle path.

We walked through the ski resort, wondering what it might be like to come here, not as a homeless tramp but a polo shirt wearing, ski golfer on holiday.

Maps hails from Golden Colorado, so we may well come back one day to find out. Except the golf bit. I’d rather just ski.

We have found a bike trail which parallels the road into Frisco. From here we can take the bike route for a day to Silverthorne and pick up the CDT again further North, heading into Rocky Mountain National Park, or just continue on the bike route.

We’ll make the decision as we go.

We hiked up the hill off the trail and set up camp. 6 tents have become 1. How very moving and sad.

Day 61: Frisco

We always depart in the morning before having breakfast or drinking coffee. We see breakfast as a reward for hiking for at least 2 hours. Today, we have 8 miles to Frisco so I made coffee first thing and it was just lovely.

I’m totally in love with our tent and might live in it forever.

(I probably won’t)

We had an easy 8 miles on the bike route. I saw a beaver which pretty much made my day. And another Eagle.

Avalanche debris

We breezed into Frisco, a cute ski town and drank coffee on Main Street while discussing our future plans.

We walked to The Grand Hotel, which somehow Snakes managed to get an incredibly low price on.

We gorged on gherkins and bagels then headed to the hotel Spa, showered and laundered.

We met our chums when they arrived in downtown Frisco. For which there is a free bus (and free transportation all over town and surrounding towns). Clap and Taz Baz are sharing our room.

We converged in (believe it or not) the brewery. New (to us) hikers Rango, Wingit and Splash were also there. After filling up on much needed calories, we caught the bus back to The Grand. ‘Bridesmaids’ was on TV, which was pretty much the best ending to the day one could imagine.

Day 62: July 4th Zero 10

After the usual wake up ablutions. Maps sorted Snakes an appointment at the clinic for the following day to suss out her sickness.

We took the bus downtown for a late breakfast in Frisco.

The ridiculousness of July 4th had already taken hold and the streets were mental.

Tax Baz and Cliff celebrated Americas freedom with Kahlua and Whiskey in their coffees at 10:00am.

We watched the parade, which was a long, hot and tiresome display of lots of vehicles, cleaned especially for the event.

To me, it felt gluttonous. Though we did get free ice lollies thrown at us, mine was almond flavour which was hugely disappointing.

We retreated to the brewery. We were a hot mess of tired and sweaty hikers, not used to the busy crowds.

We caught the bus home and resupplied for the next few days.

Late night Walmart visits.

Back to the room for the traditional resupply ritual and sorting of gear.

We’d spotted an Indian and Nepalese restaurant on our travels, so naturally went back for a damn good feeding to see the day out.

Day 63: Leaving Frisco (with drugs)

Clap left early so as to get the jump on us. Taz Baz, Snakes and I sauntered through our morning routine.

Taz Baz was returning to the official CDT (as were Clap) but he refused to leave a paid for room until he absolutely has too. Smart.

We left before him and made our way to the clinic. While Snakes went through the insurance procedure I called home. She was seen promptly and the Doctor, who was both super and duper, agreed that waiting to complete a test to see if Snakes had giardia, was time well wasted and agreed to just write a prescription there and then. This was most fabulous news.

Those tests can take up to 10 days to proffer results.

She skipped across the road to pick up the prescription at the handily placed Walmart, while I guarded our packs.

We were on trail just before midday, later than we’d liked but with the medication we needed and didn’t think we’d get. Splendid.

We took the extremely busy, and hot bike path around Frisco lake. This was most pleasant. The path broke off when we arrived in Silverthorne.

We wasted a full half hour in the REI (outdoor equipment shop) and came out with nothing but our water topped up and a desire for a Patagonia bum bag (its my birthday soon guys).

Onward to trails we cleverly managed to piece together leading us back to the trail-head. These trails paralleled the I-70, which was handy as it’s very illegal to walk on the interstate.

I didn’t take many photos today, so here is one of Maps and a giant sticky bun instead.

The trail was extremely hot and continuously uphill (though gently so).

We rewarded ourselves with lunch after no more than 7 miles.

We hiked on through the cooling woods and managed to get our feet wet several times crossing a few raging torrents which we had no desire or choice to do. Bums.

We arrived at the short section where the trail disappeared from our maps (and our reality) we figured we’d be able to piece something together to get through until the trail began again, however, the reason the trail disappeared was because the interstate now went through a very large mountain. Ah ha! Bad planning.

This meant we would have to climb said mountain which was entirely displeasing and unexpected. Double bums.

We made it a little way up the valley before finding an incredibly inappropriate and uncomfortable place to camp. It was the only place dry, not covered in snow and not quite at a 80 degree angle. Smashing!

Day 63: The absolute worst most hateful and least fun day ever.

The night before, we’d discussed our options.

1. Climb the ridge and pick our way down the incredibly steep ground above the (currently) underground interstate, walk up it for a few miles on trail and arrive at the easier Trail-head to Grays Peak (highest point on the CDT).

2. Climb the ridge and stay on it heading East, following it up and down incredibly steep terrain over many peaks (which may or may not be passable due to snow cover and may or may not require ice axes) to land on ‘Grays Peak’ and back to the CDT (a hard day even without packs).

After our alarm went off at 5:00am, we shhhed it until 6:00am. I see this as our first error, though it had no baring on the calamities of the day to come .

We swiftly summited the ridge through snow while both feeling the altitude.

Snakes sickness was immediately back.

I chose this hat for Snakes so I could easily identify her

Upon reaching to top of the ridge, we could see Grays Peak, which was f*&#=:f miles away, was shrouded in ominous thundery cloud.

The way down didn’t look enjoyable or easy and would only mean descending to re-ascend back into that evil cloud covering Grays.

We noticed that following the ridge in a North-Westerly direction would lead us back to the CDT ahead of the game, missing Grays thundery wrath and missing the needless descent. But 4 big peaks were in the way and we had no idea of their condition.

We both decided the joy of these 4 peaks would replace Grays and see us back on the trail in a more timely fashion.

It was a risky choice, as we’d completed a calming amount of research on our initial route and knew the trail to be clear and passable, we knew nothing of this new plan.

Also, Colorado through July is known for its afternoon thunderstorms. A ridge is the worst place we could be. Luckily this ridge walk was 5 miles tops. We’d surely be off it before luncheon.

Peak one, was ‘Golden Bear’ and was mighty straightforward. The snow all sat on the northern slopes leaving enough room for us to pass on the southern.

It was fairly up and down to reach the top, and just the same as we passed beyond to peak 2 ‘Hagard Mountain’.

Nothing about the name of sight of the peak made me happy in any way.

It was gnarly as hell, covered in patches of snow, super steep and looked like a rock scramble to the top.

While we rested for a swift breakfast (8:30am) I checked the Internet and concluded that Haggard peak was all of the above things.

It was ‘only’ a grade 2 scramble, but with heavy packs on this was no mean feat.

I hate heights, I hate exposure.

I need a career change.

We made it up the steep backside of Hagard and began the scramble. I swallowed my fear, ignored the lofty drops into oblivion and made it over the summit.

We descended the mad block of rock to a steep part just before we reached the saddle.

I had a mini major breakdown, imagining my very square self plummeting to the bottom of the mountain. Snakes completely took charge, took over. We decided to throw our packs to the bottom of the particular section we were on, so we could climb down easier. We both forgot about all the incredibly valuable and necessary (for living) things we had in the pack and off they went. Mine landed solidly with a satisfying thud, while hers exploded all over the place. She could do nothing but laugh.

We made it down and now sat on the saddle between Hagard and The Citadel (peak 3). This was harder than Hagard at grade 3 scrambling, looked horrific and had more sketchy looking snow.

We made it to the first lump and noticed a huge summit wide cornice overhanging our route to the left and right. We traversed downhill to avoid it, but came to an extremely steep chute of snow, for which one would need both an ice axe and confidence.

I had neither.

The Citadel was impassable.

We assessed our options and the most favourable was to descend to the Western valley and re-climb the ridge where it meets the CDT. This was annoying seeing as we’d already gained the height we needed to and would be adding an massive descent and ascent to our day.

We begun the steepest and most upsetting descent ever, on loose scree and over horrible wobbly rocks. I thought I could see a clear passage down. We were moving so slowly.

All I’ve eaten at this point is some cinnamon toast crunch cereal which although delectable is entirely unsuitable trail food.

We made it some way down the mountain. I looked up at what we’d done and thought “no one would ever climb up that”.

Another impasse.

The blind spot appeared to be an incredibly steep snow chute. Left, right and forward. No way through. An mistake on a line such as that and you would undoubtedly slide to your (my) death.

After some thought, and delay, we knew we had to climb back up the ridge. It turned out, up was actually easier than down, but by now my legs were screaming with achy lethargy.

We worked together to remember our route and made it back to the ledge.

Snakes immediately thought she saw a clear route down the Eastern side, with passable looking snow at the bottom. We descended.

Both mentally and physically at this point I was hating everything about this horrible, taxing, demanding situation which I thought we’d never be out of.

All the time the clouds are building above us. We made it further (than the last descent) down this challenging rocky face before meeting the snow, which was neither passable nor friendly looking. From above it looked like a short stretch with a kind gradient. No sir.

One has to rationalise in these situations. Injury was a very real prospect if we continued, but hard flat ground felt so close.

We hiked back up the sodding Mountain to the ridge once again.

Our only remaining choice was to ascend Hagard, back over that shitty, scary scramble once more, return the way we came and find some other route down.

The scramble was exhausting but we’d done it once so it was actually easier on the return.

I saw a 95% snow free, incredibly steep route to the lower plateau (freedom) we took it.

Our legs were throbbing. Extremely annoyed at us for our life choices.

The ground was slippy and gritty and crappy.

After some time descending, we made it to the snow, which again, was steeper and longer than it looked from above.

We had no choice, there was no way we would physically make it back up the ridiculous slope we’d just descended.

I started kicking steps, traversing the steep snow. Before long, Snakes came past me, opting to heel her way straight down the slope. I followed her steps.

This was not the playground it looks like

When we reached solid ground, realising we were not in the company of an avalanche and still very much alive, we embraced like we’d had ourselves an ordeal. Which we completely had.

It was 2:00pm and I’d had 0.7 litres of water.

We lunched, Snakes cracked open her wine and I made tea.

Medicine

I’m not sure I’ve felt so completely, every-body-part tired as I did then.

Eventually we got packed up. We had 3.5 miles to the road and still some steep descent ahead. All entirely off trail.

One silver lining is that I absolutely have perfected the skill off forging a workable path through the seemingly impenetrable.

We crossed some rivers and picked our way, scratching our legs to buggery.

More avalanche debris

Eventually we made our way to the I-70. A road we cannot legally walk on.

To end this cheery day, we bashed our way 1.4 miles more through thick buggery to the trail-head.

We found a river which dulled the traffic and set up camp.

I am lucky enough to always feel the joy of living.

I don’t consider myself to be a risk taker (generally) though I seem to subject myself to it somewhat.

I’m not here to live life on any edge and I don’t seek out dangerous situations on purpose. Quite the opposite.

I go walking to feel like I’ve earned that piece of cake at the end of it. But, where there is no cake, there is probably no walk.

Today was one of about 4 occasions so far where I’ve feared for my life on this hike (fear of injury is daily) . Its part and parcel to an extent, though I’d prefer it not to be.

I reflect, and I am grateful not to be injured after today, but then currently, I seem to exist in a permanent state of gratefulness.

We made some damn fine life extending choices today.

Day 64: Grandma stole my legs

In 2013 I called the police while on the PCT, when witnessing some domestic violence at a trail-head. It must be becoming something of tradition..

Snakes woke me at 2:30am as there were some lights outside our tent. I informed her it was a car.

It wasn’t a car, it was a man with an extremely powerful torch. Waving it around, seemingly looking for something…

We watched him as he passed us and headed a short way up the road, which we were camped next to. He was a scraggy looking male with a small rucksack.

He spent the next hour waving his torch around the valley, aimlessly. Harmless perhaps in itself, but it was 2:30am and we weren’t camped on a trail (so he’s probably not out for a hike)

The thought of what would happen if we got in the way of his operations began to occur to me, then bother me.

His torch regularly landed on us, but I think the tent looked like a boulder and were blocked partially by trees.

I was exhausted and needed to sleep, more than anything.

Option 1 was to continue to remain intimidated by this random guy and his torch. Watching silently from the tent, unable to sleep.

Option 2 was to call the police and have then dispatch a vehicle to come and address the situation.

I chose option 2.

Before the police arrived, he began to make his way back down the road and past our tent. He appeared to move with out definite purpose, which made the event stranger still. What the hell was he doing out here? Buried treasure? Buried body?

He stopped dead in line with our tent. Though I am confident he couldn’t see us, and he didn’t shine the torch on us, I could see from his light that he was directly looking at us. This was beyond creepy. He was now covered in bags, straps and paraphernalia.

He made an very odd jolt with his body- I thought he’d seen us… He then continued to walk, again, aimlessly but toward the barrier in the road and the exit.

This whole ordeal lasted a while, I’m not sure if the police met him on their way in, but nothing more drastic came if it. Sorry.

Boring end to a boring story.

We slept in to a lazy 6:30 after our ordeal and were making our way up the mountain by 7:00am.

Today was stunning. After our sweaty ascent we mounted a ridge and walked on it for most of the day. The snow was gathered on the western edges and didn’t bother us initially, bar a few patches. Wild flowers lined the path.

My ability to enjoy such a stunner of a hike is always impeded by Colorado’s afternoon thunderstorms. As we progressed along the ridge, storms seemed to be all about us, but not where we hiked.

Perhaps we’d used up all our shit luck yesterday.

We pushed on until 2:00pm before breaking as I wanted us off the ridge. We made it with only light rain.

The descent was trickier, we had many snow traverses and steep descents while it was slushy and posthole-y.

We both agreed we were over snow, and over Colorado now. It is hard in normal years but 2019 takes the cake.

We pushed through the rain which kindly stopped just as we set up camp.

I wondered why we were so exhausted, I blamed yesterday though it turned our the total ascent for the day today was utterly ridiculous.

15. 7 miles on the day

Day 65: Fraser

A swift 5 miles into Fraser, with a small mountain in between.

We got a quick hitch from a lovely gal named Emily.

Our pals are behind us, we want to wait for them but also want to keep pushing on.

Unsure what our plans were beyond breakfast, we asked Emily to drop us at the store as either way we needed to resupply.

I’d posted on the forum asking about places to stay, just to check… One lady responded suggesting the Viking Lodge.

While resupplying in Safeway, we met thevery same lady who’d responded to our post online, she introduced herself, Maire (My-Ray) .

After trying to call the lodge for us and not getting a response, she offered for us to stay at hers, shower, do laundry and join her for dinner.

Before returning to work, she drove us to check out her house, showed us where the outdoor store was, where the brewery was, offered to deliver a resupply box to our next (really expensive) town stop then dropped us at a great breakfast spot. She’d come back for us after work.

The trail provides.

It was a great breakfast…