Day 36 – The Pagosa In and Out
Day miles: 16
Trip miles: 674.5
I woke up bright and early to get down to the road. I was eager to get into Pagosa Springs for breakfast. I threw my stuff together, said goodbye to my little camp spot right off the trail, and walked the .9 miles down to the road.
It was a chilly morning, so I had my puffy jacket on under my rain jacket. Wolf Creek Pass has a big pull off and parking area on both sides of the road. I crossed the road to get on the right side to head into town, and waited.
I stuck my thumb out for every car, and then even trucks (though I know they are unlikely to stop). I figured it might be tough early in the morning, but I kept at it.
At one point a car pulled over, so I walked up to it. A little old lady was in the driver seat. Perfect! As I walked up to her car, however, I started to sense that she hadn’t stopped for me. I’m not sure why – perhaps because she didn’t seem to be motioning towards me and she pulled up a little short.
I got to her window and she looked at me suspiciously and cracked her window a bit. “Hi. Did you stop for me? I’m a CDT hiker just trying to get a lift into town,” I say. She responds, “I stopped to change.” Hmmm… Into what? I wondered. “Well, would you by chance be willing to give me a lift on your way into town?” I asked in my most approachable, non serial-killeresque manner. “No, I can’t do that. My husband wouldn’t approve of me giving rides to strangers.” She said that very slowly, and then rolled up her window.
I can’t say I blame her. If you don’t know about hiking or what hikers are doing and look like, we basically all look a little sketchy. I found the incident rather amusing and got back to sticking out my thumb.
After an hour with no luck, Campfinder, the German hiker I met yesterday, showed up. As I explained to him that I figured it would be tough to get a ride on a weekday into a town 20 miles away, a guy and his dog came down from the trail to the parking lot. The dog was a big, older golden retriever and bounded over to me to say hello. I got worried because he was off leash right next to the busy road, but he obediently went right back to his owner’s car. I smelled a winning ticket.
“Hi. Great dog!” I said. “Are you by chance going into Pagosa Springs?” And that was that. The guy was really cool and took us both into town. He said he had a house in Laguna Beach, CA, but was currently staying at his Colorado house in Pagosa. He offered to let us shower and do laundry at his place, which was incredible. I wasn’t planning to clean up though, and Campfinder didn’t want to put him out, so we both got dropped off for breakfast.
He initially recommended a bakery, but it was closed, so he dropped us at The Rose diner. Diners are my favorite place to eat while hiking, so I was very excited. We thanked him profusely and wished him good return karma, then entered the gates of heaven.
The Rose was a great place – good food and very accommodating. I had a breakfast burrito with green chili, a side of sourdough toast with butter and jam, and coffee. I learned a little bit about Campfinder and we talked about our experiences so far in the San Juans. As we ate we charged our electronics.
Campfinder left first to go find the community center where a shower allegedly cost $4. Pagosa also has a free natural hot spring in town, though I would skip it. I had another cup of coffee, then walked outside to figure out how to get to Walmart.
I probably should have hitched as I would have gotten there faster. Instead, I talked to a guy on the street and he showed me where the local bus stop was. I then went into an adjacent building that was some type of government office, where they then printed off a bus timetable for me. The bus was arriving in 10 minutes, so I walked back outside and waited.
The bus to Walmart was two bucks. As I boarded, the driver said “It’s gonna be a while. I have a lot of stops first.” 40 minutes later, after a tour of Pagosa Springs that I might title “The Real Pagosa, Exposed,” I arrived at Walmart.
I made short work of resupply. I bought a sandwich to pack out, some random snacks, and an orange juice to devour immediately. I was already hungry again.
I sat outside Walmart taking food out of boxes and breaking them down. As I was just about finished, a guy walked over and said that if I was still there when he came out, he’d give me a ride back into town. Sweet! Apparently he had hiked the Appalachian Trail before, so he knew all about the needs of a thru-hiker.
I finished organizing my food, then devoured my snacks just in time to catch him and his girlfriend on the way out. I rode through a Sonic drive-thru with them, and then they dropped me off on the outskirts of town. So nice!
I have my Dad a quick call outside the gas station where they dropped me. I figured I wouldn’t have a cell signal when Fathers Day came around. After that, a guy in a pickup with a .45 holstered on his hip offered me a ride back to the pass. Wow! People in Pagosa were very generous!
His girlfriend came out of the gas station and we were off. She lived in Pagosa Springs and he lived in South Fork – the opposite direction on the same highway. They told me how dangerous the hairpin turn after Wolf Creek Pass was, then showed me the remains of a semi truck hanging off the side of the cliff at the turn! Yikes! It was pretty disturbing to see. As they showed me this, he sped his own truck around the curve like Mario Andretti, passing someone in the process.
When I got out at the pass, I thanked them and reflected on how great the people of Pagosa had been. A big school bus had arrived and teenage angst poured out of it like mercury from a broken thermometer, each one going here and there.
Their trip leader did not seem to know where he was. He came over to me where I stood beside a huge display board that talked about the history of the pass and the Continental Divide Trail. “Is there a trail here?” he asked. I pointed to the placard and told him about the trail and that I was hiking it from Mexico to Canada. He asked a few questions, then I crossed the street and headed up the trail. As I left I heard him shout at the teenagers, “Listen up! Gather round! This trail here runs from Mexico to Canada and that guy over there is taking 4 months to hike it.” Glad I could give him something to talk about! Also, I appreciated his vote of confidence with the 4 month timeframe.
Of course, I had a bit of a climb out of the gap. The food baby I was carrying felt heavy, but I brought a little extra in case weather or other circumstances prevented me from making planned miles.
The scenery was gorgeous and it was a beautiful afternoon. The wind was mostly calm, a stark contrast to the last section. I found myself up at a beautiful viewpoint just before golden hour. It was stunning. It’s hard to describe the rawness of the beauty, but it was special being out in the middle of nowhere and witnessing it calmly unfold.
I walked down the ridge and stumbled on a couple taking a break beside the trail – Veggie and Karma. They were from Maryland and asked me if I planned to hike the “red route” through the San Juans. The red route is just the official CDT that goes in a big loop through the San Juan Range at high elevation. I think they were asking because they were worried about sketchy snow areas. It’s understandable – I didn’t touch the San Juans in 2019 because the conditions were above my skill level.
I said that I was definitely hiking the full route and excited that the snow was mostly gone from the trail. They said they thought they would attempt it. Veggie also mentioned she had been struggling with the elevation. In that case, they still had the option of one of the lower elevation cutoff trails up ahead. I felt lucky that I had not really been bothered by the elevation.
Veggie and Karma seemed really nice and I hoped I would see them again. It was starting to get late, so I said my farewell and kept hiking until I got to a small saddle with a spring. I grabbed some water, and by that time it was 8:30PM and the sun was getting low, so I walked up to the flat part of the saddle to look for a spot to pitch my tent.
Normally I don’t camp in saddles because, being the low part of the mountain, they can quickly become wind tunnels. Tonight, however, seemed reasonably calm, and the trail was only going to climb higher from the saddle, so I reasoned it a good choice.
I saw a clump of trees with a little stick and rock barricade in front of it for wind protection. It looked great, but as I walked over a head popped up! “Sorry,” I said. A hiker was already cowboy camping there (camping without a tarp or tent under the stars). I then noticed another tent down the hill. It struck me as funny how I suddenly ran into a bunch of hikers. I figured they probably got off trail due to snow conditions when they arrived in Chama, and were now back to resume their hikes.
I found a decent spot with some trees for a little wind block, just in case. It had been a short day, but carrying my food baby around and jumping in and out of town had worn me out. I got out of my tent for one last pee and to look at the stars. When you have a dark sky, it’s amazing how many moving things there are up there. I saw a shooting star, then a couple of satellites. Maybe there are just a lot of satellites, but there were quite a few things bopping around up there. Who knows – maybe some space hikers were finishing their miles for the day, getting ready to lay their heads down before the morning’s adventure.
Day 37 – The Knife’s Edge
Day miles: 26.6
Trip miles: 701.1
Fortunately the wind was relatively calm last night. It was chilly, and as I slowly made my way about packing up camp, I saw one of the hikers down the saddle a bit doing the same.
My goal was to hike the 115 miles from Pagosa Springs to Lake City in 5 days. Day one was yesterday, which knocked out 15 miles. That left me with 25 per day, and then I could camp right before town on the last day and roll in the next morning. I didn’t realize at the time just how challenging this section was going to be.
The day started with a big climb. At the first water source after, I met the hiker who had tented in the saddle. His name was Raven and he was from Pennsylvania. While we were chatting I ate one of my bars for a snack, and hiker two arrived. His name was Slide, also from PA, and he had been the cowboy camper I walked up on. They had both taken time off trail to wait for snow to melt. Slide had actually hiked the Arizona Trail just prior to the CDT – pretty incredible!
We chatted for a while, then one-by-one continued a day that reminded me a little of a high elevation version of the roller coaster section on the Appalachian Trail. We went up and up and up, then down, then up and up and up, then down. The views were fabulous, but the climbs were above 12,000 feet and tough.
I could feel my quads screaming for more oxygen. I breathed heavily on the uphill climbs, but overall did well. The elevation definitely slowed me down. The views were worth the effort though – It was hard not to love the scenery. The San Juans are just one big postcard.
Slide, Raven, and I leapfrogged each other throughout the day. The roller coaster of ups and downs was wearing on me, for sure. When I was 20 miles in around 5PM, I reached a spot called Knife’s Edge. There were some comments in FarOut about how dangerous and sketchy this section was. The trail basically makes a turn around a mountain into another valley and has steep drop offs and some loose scree along the way. But the real challenge here was the snow.
The first part of Knife’s Edge was a big snow boulder that covered the trail and buried itself back up into a rock overhang. There were two options: (1) climb up around the back of the snow cake and slink around behind and over it to the trail on the other side, or (2) pass just in front and below it, navigating down and then up on the loose scree and dirt just below the edge of where the trail would be if not for the snow. I wish I had taken a picture to better illustrate the situation, but I was nervous about crossing it and just jumped into action.
I had met a local lady coming southbound just before arriving at Knife’s Edge. She had said that it was fine and it was easiest if you stayed to the left and went up and over. I decided to take her advice and scrambled up the rocks and behind the snow cake. It was lodged under a rock overhang in a small enclave. I walked behind, and then on top of it, then behind it again at the far edge. At that point, the challenge became apparent to me – how to get down.
The problem was the snow was too close to overhanging rock, so with a pack on I could not easily step out and hop back to the trail. The gap in between led straight down – this would be a nasty fall and likely life-ending.
Raven arrived, and then Slide, while I was assessing the next move. I put on my microspikes and tried to reach a leg out to kick steps into the outer edge of the snow cake wall, but the snow was too soft at this point in the day, and steps weren’t supporting weight on its edge. The only way to get out from under the rock overhang was to swing my pack out and face the rock, which would have most of my weight hanging over the cliff. In other words, there just didn’t seem to be a safe way to make that last move.
I passed on my assessment and the other guys decided to try the route in the dirt. It definitely seemed a bit more of a sure thing, so I scrambled down and joined them. Slide made it look easy. Raven followed, and then it was my turn.
It wasn’t easy, but I just went very slowly. The challenge was finding the bits of rock and dirt that would support weight. If you chose poorly, you could slide down the cliff. For me, the pucker moments were when I had to do bigger weight transfers, hoping my shoes would grip and not slip. While executing these moves, there weren’t always solid handholds, so I really had to dig in with my feet. But, nonetheless, after taking probably twice as long as the others, I made it across just fine.
After this there were a few steep snow chutes to cross. These were also high consequence falls. For some reason though, these didn’t bother me like the first maneuver. I used my spikes and didn’t have any issues with traction. After three or four of these, we were done! All in all, I was happy that the route wasn’t more difficult, though also glad I didn’t have to do it again! We assumed maybe the local hiker suggested the route she did because she was traveling south and it would have been easier to make. This looked like it could be true, but I think she was probably just an amazing hiker.
After Knife’s Edge we still had 6 miles to go to arrive at a lower elevation where there would be both water and wind cover. Between the relentless climbs and the pucker factor of the Knife’s Edge, I was completely beat by the time I set up camp for the night. There were a few other hikers in the same valley. I think I arrived there around 8PM.
Today’s hiking really took my breath away in so many ways! The views were glorious, and the challenges really made me feel alive (and grateful to be so!). I saw lots of marmot and pikka – the former always curious and the latter always scared. I was thankful to have some company today through the tough stuff, and glad to have a spot to camp for the night where I didn’t have to worry about the wind. Tomorrow’s another big day!
Day 38 – The Two Utes
Day miles: 26.3
Trip miles: 727.4
It was hard to wake up early and convince my legs to perform today. I wanted to get an early start for a few reasons. First, yesterday it was very challenging just to hike 26 miles, so I wanted to be prepared for more of the same and give myself ample time. Second, I had heard that some storms were rolling in, and I figured they would most likely hit in the afternoon or evening. It was to my advantage to start early.
Some hikers were talking about bailing out to a little town called Silverton to wait out the storms. The forecast I saw called for scattered thunderstorms today, then more tomorrow, then even more the next day. Each day had a higher percentage chance, so it looked like there was no escaping it.
We were all a bit nervous about the weather. I wasn’t sure what storms would be like at high elevation, other than probably a lot worse than in the towns where the forecasts were coming from. At the same time, I’m a thru-hiker. I can’t just run and hide every time a storm comes along. I had to assess the risk and decide whether the storm was bail-out worthy, or not.
The access for Lake City, my intended destination, was only about 35 miles farther than the access to Silverton. I reasoned that since no one had been talking about the weather as a major event (more just like a crummy three days), that it would be worth it to push through it. I had extra food, just in case I got delayed by weather. It would also be a good way to see just how rough hiking at elevation through storms could be. It would be better to get some experience with this on a short section than a long one!
With this plan in mind, I decided to push hard to get more miles earlier in the day, so I was up and hiking by about 6:20AM. The morning was beautiful, and so far nothing hinted at inclement weather.
The trail started with a climb, but then was fairly mellow for a while. This allowed me to get a good jump on the day. The scenery was, of course, spectacular, so I took a lot of photos and video.
I took a break after about 6 miles and a hiker I recognized from last night’s camp spot caught up to me. His name was Sour Patch and he was from Oregon. Both of us sat there applying sunscreen, as neither of us was very tan-inclined. Sour Patch has taken time off trail, both to wait for more snow to melt, and to deal with a case of giardia. He asked if I was going into Silverton and I told him I was headed to Lake City. “Not worried about the storms?” he inquired. I told him I hadn’t heard that they were going to be anything too crazy. I also said that the extra push to Lake City wasn’t too long. If I bailed to Silverton and then more storms came, I could potentially be stuck burning money there for 4 days. I saw him start thinking.
He said he wasn’t sure what he would do yet. I told him I was giving myself until the Silverton bail out junctions to change my mind, but unless any crazy weather transpired, I would push on. With that, we parted ways.
I didn’t see anyone else until around lunchtime. The CDT traveled along a couple of really beautiful valleys. At the first one I saw a large herd of elk – maybe 7 to 10 of them. My favorite was a lengthy ridge walk along a more narrow, steep valley with a rushing creek at the bottom. I gradually descended until I could access the creek, then took a turn down the mountain, through a forest, and into a wide open, massive valley that stretched between the mountains for miles and miles.
The CDT traveled across the valley. There were small creeks along the way, but they lay deep in the grass such that it was hard to see them until I was right up on them. I noticed a few trout swimming in one. The land around these creeks was a bit boggy – saturated by snowmelt and rain.
I took a lunch break by one creek where there was a good sitting rock. I ate three street taco tortillas with peanut butter, downed some water, and then grabbed just a little bit more for the next stretch of hiking. I could see a hiker making his way across the valley in the distance and recognized Slide. It would probably be a good 15 minutes before he arrived.
I left the creek intent on making it through the mountain pass a few miles away. There were already some grey clouds building in the sky, and I would be going up and up, so I moved as quickly as I reasonably could.
On the way up to the pass, there was a cool rock feature called The Window. It is basically a rectangular carve out in the rock wall itself that looks like a window. This is it the pass you actually hike through, though you can take the time to hike up to it and look through.
I kind of wanted to hike up to The Window, but the weather was not cooperating. Dark storm clouds were moving in from multiple directions, but most notably over the pass I had to traverse. I needed to get up and over.
As I climbed up it almost looked like the mountain was holding the storm clouds on the other side of the pass. It seemed like. I might just be going through the pass and into the path of a black hole. But, as I got to the edge and rounded the corner, I could see that the system was actually making its way right over the climb to the pass. I heard a few rumbles of thunder, and then a light rain mixed with small amounts of hail began.
I made my way down some switchbacks, and the rain lightened a bit as I hiked on. This didn’t last long, however. Soon a new dark cloud made its way towards me. A light rain started falling again, with a partial icy consistency. I wondered if the other guys got creamed back at the pass.
The sky was looking more ominous now, so I shoved a bar in my mouth and pushed on. I still had some climbing to do, but I was on track to get to my destination, West Ute Lake, by about 5:30.
The rain came and went. I tucked my camera away and stopped filming at some point, worried that it might get ruined. The rain never really came down hard on me though – it was a very reasonable light rain. The mountains looked beautiful, and every now and then a patch of sun would pole through the clouds and illuminate the hills and the glistening wet valleys. It reminded me of The Sound of Music, though these hills were dancing to the best of their own drum.
I passed another lake just before arriving at West Ute Lake. It had no name on the map, but I wondered if it was also a Ute lake. That would make them the two Utes.
I always loved that scene from the movie My Cousin Vinny. Joe Pesci plays a lawyer (technically not even a lawyer as he never passed the bar) from New Jersey and Ralph Machio’s cousin. Pesci goes down to one of the Deep South states to help Machio and his friend who were wrongly arrested. In court, Pesci refers to them as the two “yoots,” meaning youths, but with his New Jersey accent. The good ole boy judge can’t understand him. “The two what?” he asks. Pesci finally exaggerates the standard pronunciation by saying “yooooooths” to the judge. I guess you just have to watch the film – I found it hilarious.
Anyway, I digress. I got to West Ute Lake, grabbed some water, and got my tent set up just as pea-sized hail started to rain from the sky. Perfect timing! I sat there and wondered how big hail would have to get to puncture my tent. The little balls pounded the outside of my tent, and then turned into rain.
It was good timing on my part, but I heard another hiker pull up and start setting up a tent nearby. I had to assume that person was not enjoying their own timing. I figured it was probably Slide, but I could not see as my vestibule was drawn to weather the storm.
The rain continued in heavy waves until I fell asleep. Gusts of wind passed through, but I was reasonably sheltered by tall brush. It was hard to fall asleep with the rain, but sleep inevitably comes to all tired hikers.
It had been a pretty epic day of hiking, and I was grateful that the weather had not been as bad as expected. It was dicey at times, but I skated by somehow and was able to go to bed dry, full, and happy.
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