Hiking dirt and snow on the #continentaldividetrail (at San Juan National Forest)

Yin yang on the #continentaldividetrail

Ridge walking the San Juans #continentaldividetrail

A little morning spice in the San Juans #continentaldividetrail

Back on trail with a new friend and enough food for a 7 day siege on the San Juans. Things have REALLY melted out here. #continentaldividetrail (at Wolf Creek Pass)

Weaving between sunsets and thunderstorms (at Green Mountain (Boulder, Colorado))

May 13th

The legendarily easy hitchhike into Chama doesn’t disappoint. The first car I see stops and offers me a ride into town. The driver is on his way home from a trail run. One of the two huskies in the back cartoonishly slithers into the trunk to inspect my backpack.

I get a late breakfast and then check into the hotel to which I shipped my snowshoes, ice axe, and crampons.

The afternoon disappears quickly with my todo list.

May 14th

North of Chama are the San Juans, the most beautiful and most dangerous part of the CDT. I had hoped to wait in town until I met some companions for this next leg. But there’s a snow storm forecasted to hit in 4 days and I cannot afford to wait around. I hitch back to the trail.

There I’m pleased to discover the fresh snowshoe prints of two hikers, Chesh and Guz. By late afternoon I’ve caught up to them.

The beautiful landscape, companionship, and relatively safe conditions buoy my spirits. I’m in the huge craggy snowy mountains I dreamt of when I imagined hiking the Rockies.

We make camp at sunset near a lake having made good miles.

May 15th

We hike all morning through good conditions. I push ahead of Chesh and Guz after lunch. The trail climbs to a high ridge. There’s one steep pitch which gives me a chance to put all my mountaineering toys to use.

I gain the ridge an walk along it. At the far end of the ridge is a foreboding traverse. I hope that the trail will somehow go around this feature or it will turn out to be mellower than it looks. It doesn’t and isn’t.

I sit on the last patch of flat ground and look over my maps. There’s no easy way around. Without snow there’s a nice ledge to walk across but that’s buried now. I hope Chesh and Guz will catch up so that I’ll have some company. I wait. At some point there’s nothing left to do but suit up and start climbing. Up up up I go into the clean white curves, massive scale, and precipitous heights.

Looking back one last time, I see them down below, coming towards me! I turn around and meet them below. We decide to backtrack to our lunch spot where there’s a detour trail that drops several thousand feet into the river valley below.

We make camp on dry ground in the river valley below.

May 16th

We find an easy way to cut over to the Great Divide Alternate, a route used by CDT hikers to avoid snow and high elevations. I’m awestruck by the beauty of this route as it weaves through verdant valleys, around bases of snowy high peaks, and past historical sites. Much of the route is snow free and we make excellent time. That night we camp just 10 miles short of the trailhead.

May 17th

We make quick work of the 10 miles to the trailhead. Chesh and Guz decide to hitch from the trailhead into town and I opt to walk 13 miles down the highway to Wolf Creek Pass to preserve the continuity of my hike.

The road walk goes by quickly as I listen to S-Town and call my parents on the phone.

Hitching from the pass isn’t easy. Eventually I get a ride on an 18 wheeler carrying pipe fittings.

Once in town, I head straight to the brewery to meet Chesh and Guz and catch up on calories.

I meet Gary Musgrave, a local artist who offers me a place to stay at a ranch 30 miles outside of town. I gladly accept. I learn that the ranch is owned by Gary Morris, an accomplished country singer and Les Mis cast member.

May 18th - May 19th

The next day I watch the storm envelop the mountains above while I sit in the hot springs below. I’m grateful to have made it here before the storm hit.

I end up spending two full days in town.

A shocking number of people tell me they had only planned to visit Pagosa Springs for a weekend but decided to stay forever.

I spend the night with Kieth and Kelle: very kind people, young parents, and AT through hikers.

May 20th

I get a 7am ride back up to the pass with trail angel Addi.

Chesh and Guz have decided to detour around the mountains on roads.

The snow is soft and deep. I see roller balls and pinwheels, exotic snow formations that indicate high avalanche danger.

It’s slow going.

In mid afternoon, I find myself once again on the safe ground, looking at an exposed snow traverse. This time there are no detours and nobody else around.

I begin picking my way across. The slope gets steeper and steeper as I go. I can reach out my left arm and touch the snow like a steep angle skier. One foothold gives out and tumbles down into the trees below. Probably just a fluke. Steeper yet. Another foothold falls. Another. I’m 30m from the safety of the other side but have yet to pass the steepest part. I stand there as long as I dare, weighing risk. I turn around and retreat to safe ground.

I’m sitting on a dry rock at 12,000’, the sun is warm, and the wind is gentle. I am stuck. I need to make a decision.

Do I push deeper into the mercurial mountains? Do I go back to Pagosa Springs? Do I start road walking around the mountains? Do I wait for the snow to consolidate? Why am I here?

My last days in New Mexico

May 5th - May 8th: My parents came to visit me in Santa Fe! We spent the weekend exploring the area, eating, and resting. Spending time alone on trail has deepened my appreciation of family, friends, and other types of community. I’m grateful to have the love and support of my parents and many others. ❤️

May 8th: I arrive back at Ghost Ranch and learn that six other hikers are staying there tonight! I haven’t seen that many hikers in one place since Pie Town! We make the best of a dreary evening hanging out in the library and under a picnic shelter.

May 9th: Time to hit the trail! Head out into a predicted 3 days of thunderstorms with two other hikers: Chesh and Guz. We climb out of the desert for the last time and into lush high hills. Around lunchtime the sleet / thunder really picks up. I tell Chesh and Guz that in need to keep moving to stay warm and that I hope we see each other soon up trail. Wet and cold, I make camp early and get a good night’s sleep. Some large animal snoops around in the middle of the night. I scare it off by hitting my spoon on my cooking pan lid.

May 10th: Hiked in the rain all morning. In the early afternoon I arrive at the Rio Vallecitos. There’s supposed to be a log bridge across the river. However the bridge has been washed out and the water is HIGH. I spend several hours trying to find a safe way across as the rain turns to snow. Unable to find a safe way across or a good detour, I make due with a less-than-safe way across. Finally on the other side, cold, and flushed with adrenaline, I hike down the trail as fast as I can. A couple miles later, I see a woman hiking on a cross trail. We stop and talk briefly. She got her car stuck while trying to drive out of a nearby Buddhist retreat center where she works. She kindly invites me to see the center which, given the bad weather and crummy river crossing, I accept. At the retreat center I’m given hot tea, seated by a warm fire, and fed a magnificent dinner alongside the guests. I had a long dinner conversation with the retreat leader about mindfulness in the wilderness. I stay up late talking and playing music with some staff and sleep in a cabin while sleet pounds the roof.

May 11th: The next morning, after coffee and breakfast, I help with some chores. A large yurt has collapsed under the weight of the snow and needs to be cleaned up. It takes the whole morning but I manage to organize the mess of lumber, canvas, and insulation into neat piles. I stay for one more meal 😉 and then hit the trail. I hiked until sunset, encountering more and more snow. I made camp in a creek valley.

May 12th: I wake up around 4am and notice the valley has filled with fog and dropped below freezing. Because of this, my sleeping bag is covered in a quarter inch of slush. This was not a good night to sleep without a tent. Snoozed until sunrise and then got going slowly. Around lunchtime I met some day hikers WAY out in the national forest. We were equally surprised to see eachother. They were upset to learn that I carried neither a gun nor a fishing pole. That afternoon I found my rhythm, making my own trail along beautiful ridges. By sunset I’ve climbed over an 11,000 ridge and to within a few miles of the Colorado border! Found an especially cool campsite with panoramic views of the San Juans and wind shelter.

May 13th: Sleep in and walk a few miles to the official Colorado border. The only sign there says that you’re entering a new National Forest. Just a few more miles of walking and I’m at the highway from which I catch a quick hitchike to Chama.

Every day I’m feeling stronger and more competent on the trail.

It is as though my conscious mind is sitting in the plush top floor office, thinking through high level strategy and daydreaming, while my subconscious handles the grind.

I wasn’t aware that I had such a backlog of things to think about: events in my past, decisions about my future, the meaning of life, …

Bolstered by practically infinite time, no distractions, some good books, a slow drip of endorphins, and inspirational views, this thinking is pleasurable and arrives new insights.

New Mexico has come to a crescendo with more beautiful red canyons, deep snow on high plateaus, and beautiful mountains. It’s a patchwork of landscapes that hardly seem to belong within walking distance of each other.

I’ve made it to Ghost Ranch, once the home of Georgia O'Keeffe, now a religious retreat center that welcomes hikers, and the last resupply point in New Mexico!

Today I’m leaving the trail and meeting my parents in Santa Fe. I’m very excited to spend time with them, catch up on some calories, and see yet another side of New Mexico!

Next week I’ll be back on the trail and entering Colorado.

April 20th: Camped next to some developed hot springs. Ran into a hiker I met just before I got on the shuttle, trail name: Dirt. Took a slow day. Did a short road walk, tourist-ed some cliff dwellings and pictographs. When I arrived at the trailhead I met some folks who offered me beer and dinner. They turned out to be filming the sequel to Unbranded, a movie about running wild mustangs on the continental divide trail. Hiked a few mikes up the trail to make camp.

April 21st: Woke up early and dropped back into the river canyon. 8 miles up the river was a large 95°F hot spring. Spent about 45 minutes there having lunch. Spend the afternoon pushing hard up the river canyon. Shredded my socks and insoles on the gravel. Made it to Snow Lake to camp. Coldest night on the trip, about 20°F.

April 22nd: Hiked up a smaller canyon (Gilita). Grassy and rounded hills. Met up with some Canadians for a mid morning break at a pond. Long dirt road walk back up into the mountains. Camped on a 8000’ ridge with cell phone reception.

April 23rd: Convinced myself that I was running low on food (I wasn’t) and decided to do a big mileage day. Hiked and ran up and down medium sized mountains with alpine trees. Trail occasionally became too faint to follow. Ended up hiking 45 miles, putting me within striking distance of the next resupply stop: Pie Town.

April 24th: The 30 miles into Pie Town was hard. I developed a pain on the pad of my foot which felt like a sharp rock stuck in my shoe (so much so that I went mad looking for it) and got worse if I stopped moving. Decided to not stop moving until I hit town, where there is a hiker hostel: The Toaster House. Better to be stranded with an injury at a hostel than in a cow pasture. Made it into town just before sunset finding the hostel empty. Lodged myself in a chair for a few hours and ate all the food within arms reach. Later met the hostel’s two other occupants: two sisters from Oregon. The Toaster House is a quirky old house with no full time occupants that’s left open and stocked with food for hikers. The owner, Nita, began hosting hikers here decades ago while raising her children in the house. She thought it wonderful to have her children meet interesting people from all over the world. Today she lives nearby and stops by the Toaster House daily to spend time with the hikers passing through.

April 25th: Took my first zero day (hiked no mikes) in Pie Town to give my foot time to recover. The town is famous for its pie, so I spent the morning eating it! The afternoon and evening were spent with other hikers, taking care of my gear, and eating more pie. More and more hikers arrived during the day and, given the bad weather, everyone opted to spend the night. We had about 10 hikers sleeping in the house.

April 26th: Leaving the comfort of the house and cafes was hard! Around noon I hit the trail and managed a solid ~30 miles before bed time, mostly on roads and ending in a wilderness area.

April 27th: Walked out of the wilderness area, back onto roads briefly, and then cross country along the edge of a large mesa, overlooking a vast lava field, a natural arch, and distant snowy peaks. Spent the rainy windy night sheltered on the porch of a ranger station.

April 28th: Did about 14 miles into Grants, NM. A sprawling strip mall town. Stopped in a brewery that’s also an active junkyard (unintentionally hip?). Most people who came through the door were looking for car parts. Had some rad beer from Santa Fe brewing. Spent the night in a hotel with 4 other hikers.

I have made it out of the desert and up into the mountains of New Mexico! The last week has flown by, hiking from sunrise to sunset, eating as much as I can, and sleeping wherever I happen to be.

Hiked with a couple for two days into Silver City. Having their company on the trail was wonderful, especially as I dealt with some ankle tendinitis. Hope we see each other again soon.

The physical and logistical parts of through hiking have been easier than I expected. I am really amazed at my body’s ability to hike, day after day, on so so food.

The mental part has been much harder: clarity, gut-wrenching heartbreak, loneliness. I hope this gets easier with time. I miss you.

Made it to Lordsburg

Tonight I hiked into Lordsburg, finishing the first leg of the CDT. (I started here on Monday and took a shuttle to the official start of the trail). That’s 85 mi down, 3015 mi to go.

The desert never disappoints. If you expect it to be brutal you will see brutality. I decided to expect sublime beauty and challenge.

A couple of hikers offered me the spare bed in their hotel room. I gratefully accepted and am writing this showered and lying on a real mattress.

First days on the trail

On Tuesday, three other hikers and I hopped into beefy truck for the 3 hour drive to the start of the trail: crazy cook monument. On the way our driver pointed out all the water caches and some sites of historical interest. We nodded anxiously.

And then we were all standing in the middle of the desert watching the truck drive away with a contrail of red dust. A few feet away was a low barbed wire fence marking the Mexican border. I felt like I should have prepared some ceremony for this moment. I started walking north.

The desert is absolutely covered in flowers after an unusually rainy winter. I spot new species around every turn. The beauty and diversity of the plants is only matched by that of their pollinators. 🌵🌺🐝🐜

The temperature ranges from 40 degrees at night to about 80 during the day. I’ve been gritting my teeth and walking through the afternoons, trying to stay hydrated and caloried. Mornings and evenings are divine: golden light, cool temperatures, and big views.

The trail itself feels about 50% on trail and 50% off. The off trail segments are marked by 6’ posts, most of which are still standing upright.

Getting water has been easy. I haven’t needed to carry more than 4L and have only picked up water from official caches.

I hiked 25 mi yesterday and am on pace for 31 today. Trying to make it into Lordsburg for a shower on Friday night! Wish me luck.

Prolog III: The Texas Eagle

On Sunday I took the Pacific Surfliner train from San Diego to LA and then the Texas Eagle train from LA to Lordsburg, NM.

The conductor hadn’t actually heard of Lordsburg when punching my ticket and had to double check the schedule to confirm that it was a real stop.

On the train I met a Swiss filmmaker & street performer who was heading to San Antonio to pay a surprise visit to a friend performing in Cirque de Soleil. He brought a guitar and we jammed together in the observation car while rolling through the wide American West.