Day 39 – Going For It
Day miles: 23.6
Trip miles: 751
It rained all night long, monsoon style. I woke up at 4AM to get a jump on the day, as I knew the weather was supposed to be dicey again. It was still coming down though, so I went back to sleep until 5:30.
When I woke up, I shoveled my breakfast into my mouth and finally heard a lull in the rain. I heard someone taking down a tent next to me. “Is that you Slide?” I asked. It was. He said that Raven and Sour Patch were somewhere around as well. Slide was heading into Silverton today, so he took off pretty quickly.
There are two ways to get to Silverton. One is to walk a side trail down to a trailhead and hitch from there, and the other is to hike to Stoney Pass and hitch there. Stoney Pass would be my last chance to bail out if for some reason the weather seemed really gnarly.
The morning sky looked a little ominous, but the clouds were lifting a bit and the fog over the mountains was truly beautiful. I got my stuff together under a light drizzle and hit the trail.
I caught up to and passed Slide, wishing him well in Silverton. The drizzle stopped and, while overcast, the conditions were good for hiking. I passed the turn off for the trail into Silverton and kept going. Lake City or bust!
I caught up to an older gentleman with a pack climbing a steep hill in front of me. He said he was out hiking a section and making his way into Silverton at the upcoming pass. Apparently he had camped in an exposed area last night and thought his tent was going to get ripped to shreds by the wind. Fortunately it held up. The wind is probably the biggest challenge here. It can make things turn ugly pretty quickly.
The hiker introduced himself as Davy Jones. I thought that was his trail name (like Davy Jones’ Locker), but it was his real name. It brought back memories of the Return to Treasure Island Disney series I watched as a kid. I didn’t tell him that, of course.
I left Davy Jones and passed bail out option number two – Stony Pass. I was going for it!
It started to rain a bit after that. Stony pass was kind of cool. You actually walk down the dirt road for a bit just to get around some massive, rocky cliffs before turning back onto the trail. After that, it’s a climb.
I spent a lot of the day above 12,000 feet. As the trail approaches the pass and road to Lake City, the elevation gets higher and higher. Tomorrow I will go up over 13,000 feet, the highest elevation yet!
Despite some rain and slushy rain, the trail was beautiful. I kept my camera in my pack all day, but got some photos with my phone. Somehow I got to a small lake that I had targeted for camping by 4:45PM. I wanted to go farther, but it was a climb to even higher elevation and 5 or 6 miles farther until the next possible campsite. I knew weather was going to move in, so I decided not to push my luck and went ahead and set up camp.
The ground was soft and I could tell that it was saturated, likely first from snow melt and then from rain. My campsite didn’t have great wind protection. Two sides were kind of exposed, but it was the best I could do.
The sun came out for a bit and it felt heavenly. It had been mostly cloudy all day, with various grey clouds dropping small amounts of moisture all from the way. I walked down to the lake and felt the water – cold! There was another lake just below this unnamed one called Cataract Lake. I am not sure why – maybe sometimes it has a milky color or reflection.
After an hour or so, Sour Patch rolled in. He had decided to go for it too! He came over to say hi, and then got his tent setup just in time. It started pouring.
It poured and poured and the wind came. I was grateful to be in my tent, but at times I was convinced that my tent was going to rip apart. I thought about Davy Jones’ recount of his experience with the wind.
I lay there and held onto the trekking pole supporting my tent, just in case. Wave after wave of wind hit, sometimes blowing spray inside my tent from under the vestibule. Condensation formed quickly, and a wet sheen developed over my quilt. It felt like it was going to be a long night.
I alternately supported my tent when the wind gusts came and wiped things down to try to keep the inside of my tent a bit more dry. It was a losing battle though.
I was grateful to be inside my tent for the storm, though I wondered what I would do if my tent did rip apart, leaving me and all my layers exposed not the wind and downpour. I tried not to think about it. Eventually, the wind died down slightly, and I managed to fall asleep.
Day 40 – Lake City, Baby! Lake City!
Day miles: 22
Trip miles: 773
It rained all night, and was still raining into the morning. It’s kind of amazing the amount of precipitation Colorado can drop in one night! At some point last night, the wind died down a little and I fell asleep. I woke up occasionally, though, and swabbed down the inside of my tent with my sun handkerchief. Single wall tents are great until you experience one really wet night…. The wind had been shaking my tent periodically, which was shaking loose condensation droplets all over my quilt, etc. I kind of woke up like a damp dog.
I knew I just needed to push through today to get to Lake City. I hoped the weather would be like yesterday – more calm during the day and not as monsoony as it had been overnight. There was a slight pause in the rain, so I jumped out of my tent to go to the cat hole I had dug the night before to get that over with. It was full of water! The ground all around me was so saturated it was like a bog. As soon as I popped a squat, another wave of rain began.
I finished up and dove back into my tent. I ate breakfast and started getting my gear together. I had one spot to tape up on my feet, though they had been doing well.
When the next lull came, I heard Sour Patch breaking down his tent. As I was about to hop out of mine he swung by. “How about that wind last night?” He said he also thought his tent might rip apart. Neither one of us had enough protection from the wind at our respective spots. Sour Patch hiked out while I shook out my soggy tent. I rolled it up and placed it in my bag, but on top of the rolled-up contractor bag liner that was keeping all of my somewhat dry stuff from getting wetter. It was time to hike.
The mountains were shrouded in grey fog. The trail was a mud fest, sometimes full of standing or flowing water. Today was the day I kind of knew in the back of my mind would be tough. I knew it was supposed to be the rainiest of the 3 days. When I decided not to bail out to Silverton, I also knew I had to go up and over several peaks above 13,000 feet today. Therefore, I knew that it could be quite uncomfortable during inclement weather. Today was no surprise, and yet I was still a little surprised that the rain was not letting up a bit as the morning wore on.
Not too long after I started hiking, I decided to throw on my wind pants for an extra layer to help shield my legs from the wind and rain. It felt cold – I think the temperature was hovering in the upper 40s to lower 50s, but the wind was blowing just enough to drive that down. I had a silk base layer top under my hiking shirt and my rain jacket on. I didn’t want to get too hot during the big climbs today. Ha!
I saw another hiker coming southbound as I pulled on my wind pants in the rain. He made a sarcastic comment about the weather, clearly enjoying it as much as I was. I thought I saw Raven up ahead of Sour Patch. It was definitely another hiker, though I hadn’t seen or heard Raven last night. I started the climb.
What transpired over the next several hours was a brutal slugfest with the weather. It started to sleet, then the wind angled that nicely into us as we climbed. The temperature dropped, of course, and we hiked as fast as possible, but climbing to 13,000 feet is difficult.
As we neared the top, I was getting cold. I realized I should have added my puffy jacket under my rain jacket. It is synthetic, not down, so I can wear it when it is wet out. I didn’t want to stop though, since the wind was blowing and I didn’t have a good place to pull out my jacket and layer it in without losing a lot of heat during the transfer, so I just focused on hiking faster to keep my body temperature up.
The sleet turned to snow as we neared the crest. Once on top, we still had a few dips and climbs before descending lower. The main peak was over 13,200 feet, but we would be up high for a few more miles.
I was definitely cold. I had been wearing my gloves, but they were now wet and the wind was whipping through them, turning my hands to ice. I just had to keep moving.
Sour Patch and I crushed the miles like we were hiking for the meal of our lives. We kept a quick pace and pushed and pushed until we finally started to descend to around 12,500 feet. I took advantage of a short break in the rain to stop and throw on my jacket. Ahhhhhhh! Finally I didn’t feel like I was borderline hypothermic!
Unfortunately, most of our views at the top were shrouded in grey, but at the time I was so cold and wet I didn’t really care. I just focused on staying warm by moving quickly. We did, however, have one really cool view atone of the later smaller climbs through a break in the clouds. I saw a huge red peak and some blue sky over a valley far away. I wish I could have taken a picture, but it was too wet and my hands wouldn’t have been able to get my phone to respond. I turned into the wind and sleet and kept going.
We pushed and pushed. I looked at Sour Patch and said, “Lake City baby! Lake City!” The ordeal reminded me of a scene from a 90’s movie called Swingers. The characters played by Vince Vaughn and John Favreau decide to drive all night from California to Las Vegas in an effort to cheer up Favreau, who has recently gone through a breakup. Vaughn excitedly yells “Vegas baby! Vegas!” as they start their journey. Later on, as it is getting late and they have been in the car for a while, he just mumbles “Vegas baby Vegas…” clearly losing steam and just wanting to be there. At that point, I just wanted to be off that mountain. Lake City baby Lake City….
Later on, after we finally started our larger descent towards the pass where we would hitch into Lake City, the rain eased off to occasional sprinkles. The sun actually poked out at some point, and we dropped low enough to see actual bushes. It was like we were hiking on a completely different mountain! My spirits instantly picked back up. I had done it. Sour Patch had done it. Everything was going to be fine.
The day was not without further calamity. The rain had created lots of thick, slick mud to walk through. Sour Patch misjudged a step, slipped and fell into a huge mud puddle. It was one of those falls where you just land exactly where you don’t want to be. He shook it off however, because at that point we were back to Lake City baby! Lake City!
Sour Patch confessed that he wasn’t going to push through until he talked with me the day we met, and that he was really glad he did. That made me feel good. Part of my reason for hiking the CDT was to prove to myself that I could be strong and do it. I did feel strong today. I felt like I did the hard thing, not the easy thing, and that was a good feeling.
We found a spot to camp just .6 miles from the road. A fat chipmunk immediately investigated my pack. It ran out from under the fir tree I was using for wind cover, stared at me, stood on its two hind legs and leaned against my pack and sniffed it. Then it ran right in front of me to one of my hip belt pouches, sniffed it, and started to chew at it. It was an exploratory chew, not a full-on bite down. I was shocked at the kahoonas this little guy had! Someone must have fed him before.
I ran at him and slapped the tree around him, trying to instill fear. It was for his own good, as well as mine. That seemed to do the job. I won’t lie though – I so badly wanted to feed him!
We got our tents set up and hung some items on the trees to dry. Then a storm moved in, so we quickly grabbed everything off the tree and dove in our tents. Colorado – the state of pop-up storms!
I stayed in my tent the rest of the evening, eating and catching up on my journal. It rained off and on with one thunderstorm. These storms came in short waves, unlike the monsoon-like rains we had experienced the last few nights. I was so happy to be through the worst of the weather for this section, and to now that I could get my gear clean and dry tomorrow. I managed to stay up until 10PM just journaling and recalling the events of the past 4 days. I was so grateful for the beauty I had seen. San Juans, baby! San Juans!
Day 41 – The Texan Takeover
Day miles: 0.6
Trip miles: 773.6
Sour Patch and I woke up to clear skies and frozen rain on our tents. It was a beautiful morning, and time for us to head into town. It took no time at all to walk the .6 of a mile to the road, and only about 15-20 minutes to get a hitch into town.
A local guy and carpenter named Sam, along with his cute dog Buster, picked us up. Sam was friends with the owner of the hostel in town, Raven’s Nest. A triple crown hiker named Lucky owned the place. Triple crown means he has thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail, Continental Divide Trail, and Pacific Crest Trail.
Sam was a great guy. We talked a bit about all of the dead trees due to beetle activity. He said the beetles had already moved on, and there was controversy over what to do with the dead trees. Most of the good wood had already been harvested. Apparently the federal government had a program to make wood pellet fuel out of them, but some experts believed it was best just to leave the trees there to decompose and go back into the soil. It sounded like an issue that had been discussed for years and years.
Sam also mentioned that, during Covid, Texans had basically taken over the town. Those with money had come here, bought up property, and taken up ATV riding here. It was so popular that they were allowed to drive ATVs and Razors on the streets of town, just like normal cars. It was clear from Sam’s description that there was a strong divide in town. He said many of the locals did not like the way the Texans (generalizing here, of course) just moved in and did what they wanted, not respecting the fact that their actions impacted others. At the same time, the money they brought with them was really feeding the local economy.
It’s an age-old conundrum that I am quite sure gets repeated over and over in many a cute little town where tourism attracts new residents. There was even a note in FarOut that hitching at the pass would be easy, but that only Colorado locals would stop, not Texans. Sure enough, about 5 Texas plates passed us before a Colorado local gave us a ride into town. It’s not a statistically significant sample size, but the comments did ring true in our experience.
We bid our farewell to Sam and Buster and thanked them profusely. No one was at the hostel, so we got set up in bunks, dropped the owner a text per instructions, and went out to get some food.
We ate next door at the Chillin Cafe. It was the only place open. I had the Big Breakfast Burrito, a root beer and a coffee. It was expensive for what it was. While we ate, another hiker named Shuttle came in on her way out of town. Sour Patch had met her previously; I had not. Like Slide and Raven, she was also from Pennsylvania.
After food, we went to the outfitter and I got a new fuel canister. Poor Sour Patch was trying to find a new sleeping pad because his had a bad leak in it, but alas, did not find what he was looking for. We did a quick resupply at the Country Store – it was definitely pricey, but had what I needed.
I showered – it felt great! I did a little pre-rinse of my clothes and headed to the laundromat with some snacks. Meanwhile, I had laid out some gear back at the hostel and it was drying out in the sun.
Towely had texted us that we should try a pastry in Lake City called moose balls. According to him, it is the best pastry on the divide! I thought they were at the bakery in town, so I popped in and asked the young man behind the counter, “do you have any moose balls?” He looked at me puzzled. Oh boy. I wondered if Towely had played a joke on me. “My friend said to make sure I got a pastry called moose balls in Lake City. I thought that was here,” I clarified. The kid said “Oh, those must be at Beggin’ for Bagels down the street.” At least it was a real thing! Unfortunately, the bagel place was closed until tomorrow, but I plan to get one when they open at 7AM.
We ate lunch at Southern Vittles. I had a burger and it was pretty good, but nothing to write home about (yet I AM still writing about it!). I went back to the Country Store and got a DiGiorno pizza to cook at the hostel for dinner – figured I would save a bit of cash.
I called my wife to catch up. While we talked, a little rabbit sat in front of me and ate grass for a while. It was cute!
I was going to zero here tomorrow, but the weather forecast isn’t looking great for the week. Tomorrow looks ok, but it degrades after that over the next three days where it looks like it will be more “monsooney.” So, I will hike out tomorrow so I can at least have good weather for the really high elevation stuff over the next 30 miles. After that it looks like the trail stays at or below 12,000 feet.
My next stop is a lodge near Monarch Pass about 110 miles away. I mailed a box of food there from Chama so I can cruise through instead of hitching into Salida. I’m excited about this next section of trail! Sour Patch is hanging in Lake City for a few days while he waits for a new air mattress to arrive. I hope to see him again down the trail – it’s been fun getting to know him, and it is rare to meet someone the same age as me on trail.
I was so grateful to get to town today, get clean, and to stuff myself. I’m going to eat that DiGiorno pizza and go to bed!
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