Once again, the CDT was throwing us an unexpected curve and, as we had learned before, it’s best to roll with the punches.  So, we choose the official early/late season alternative route via the Belly River to Chief Mountain Customs Station.  The Ptarmigan Tunnel was still open, so we were able to access the Belly River via that particular climb.

We started out Thursday morning, in a light but steady drizzle, with dramatic dark clouds surrounding the peaks that normally tower over Many Glacier.  Rain tapered off and the sun even made a few brief teasing appearances as we climbed the valley towards Ptarmigan Lake and Tunnel, a steady climb of 2,400 feet in just under 5 miles.  In the upper reaches of the climb, across the valley, we watched a large grizzly intent on feeding, tossing huge rocks aside to roll and crash down the canyon, searching for delectable treats hidden underneath.  Above the lake we saw a heard of Bighorn Sheep, ewes and lambs munching on the still green grasses, paying only slight attention to the hikers.

Once over the pass we dropped down to Elizabeth Lake, were we had to make a mile and half detour to the head end to get to our campsite.  But the extra miles paid off as we watched mountain goats frolicking in the mist of waterfalls cascading over cliffs and a large black bear foraging in the forbs.  Not a bad day of hiking – bears of both kinds, mountain goats and big horn sheep.  Were were happy to back in Glacier, finishing with such wonderful wildlife shows! It even made us forget the off and on afternoon rain and increasing cold.

As we went to bed, a steady rain began to fall.  In the middle of the night it turned to a mixture of heavy snow and rain.  Water seeped in under the tent and heavy condensation dampened everything inside.  When we started to pack up in the morning, it actually started to get colder and snow, not rain, began to fall in earnest.  By the time we left camp we had a couple of inches on the ground and enough falling that visibility was limited.  We kept a brisk pace  up, mainly to stay warm.  And now we were intent on simply getting the last 12 miles done.  By the Pelly River Ranger station the falling snow had let up, but we had about 6 inches of snow on the ground, turning the trail to a muddy, slushy mess.  It often felt more like we were skating or sliding than walking.

As with most of our long hikes, the end of the trail is bittersweet:  there’s satisfaction in completing a goal, but sadness at leaving the journey behind.  But now, we were glad that our route only included the one night of camping.  It is doubtful that we would have been able to dry out tent or sleeping bag and the thought of another night out sleeping in wet stuff with temps falling below freezing was enough to make the end of the trail appealing.

With one final push we marched up the 700 foot climb out of the valley to the border – somehow fitting to finish the CDT on an uphill laden with slush and mud.  The trail challenges to the end.

We are now back home and trying to get used to the idea that the hike is over, we’ve completed the Triple Crown (Appalachian Trail, Pacific Crest Trail and Continental Divide Trail.) And getting adjusted to the idea that returning to work lies.  BUT getting very nicely aquainted with warm toes again!

The transition to a landscape shaped by water, both frozen glaciers as well as deep snow and its prodigious run off is remarkable. The lake sparkles in the sun. The forested valley is cool and the air is still.  As we walk up the valley, the walls of granite are as closed in as the sagebrush plains had been wide open.  This is a land marked by its verticle nature with towering peaks, spires, cliffs and early sunsets.

The next morning we start up Temple Pass as clouds roll in and are confronted with rain, then sleet, then hail and snow pellets, eventually rising right into the clouds themselves as we cross over the pass. No time to stop at the top, as the windchill has left our feet very chilled. The Wind Rivers are throwing everything they have at us, as if to tell us that to enter this Temple penance must be paid up front.  The price of admission seems worht it as we drop into the next valley where tall mountains surround Big Sandy Lake and the scenery grows ever more stunning. A brief repreive of warmer weather that afternoon would be our last for several days.

The CDT meets up with and follows the “Fremont” trail northwest passing the tall jagged peaks and spires to the east which mark the actual Continental Divide. For three days we walk along this rolling plateau dotted with many small, medium and large lakes and with ever increasing ridges that divide and seperate the lakes. For three days we have storm clouds swirling tossing rain, hail, sleet and snow pellets at us. And cold.  How cold?  So cold that the Carrot’s saline solution for her contact lenses freezes; olive oil buried inside the pack comes out congealed; socks strapped to teh back of the pack at mid day to dry out end up frozen stiff as cardboard.  Needless to say, the water bottles  were mostly solid each morning.  One night we wake several times to “punch” snow off the tarp tent, so it doesn’t sag too badly. But the return matches the challenge as this is some of the most dramatic and stunning scenery of the entire trail. When some sunlight sneaks through to spotlight mountain peaks which are otherwise hidden in a whirlwind of clouds, the effect takes your breath away.

Finally, the storms break and we have 3 sunny days to end the section. Still cold, but at least sunny.  This is the ying/yang of the CDT. With 8 days in the Wind River Mountains we figured we would have some sunny and some storming.

Our last day of the section, and out last day of the final “big leg”, was epic in many ways: we had “trail” that was supposed to be a cross country bushwhack (and it was); we had trail that was supposed to be easy to follow where we were still trailess and whacking away at willows, sage and marshes; we had “bonus miles” where the good trail tread went where the route was not intended and we had to back track; we had the threat of rain; we had cows; we had “map inconsistencies”.  But we also had some stunning mountain vistas near the end, with flat top mountains, tall cliffs and the rocky “fins” that they create, we had pastoral valleys, mixed meadows and trees and we ended with a walk along an old closed jeep road.  It was a microcosm of the entire trail.

We also pushed hard to make it to the highway in time to hitch into town before dark. With all the above challenges, we still made it to the road before sun down, but just barely, covering almost 28 miles in the process. Only to find that the roadway was under construction, with all traffic stalled.  We waited 20 minutes and waived down a “pilot car” who was leading the way for a dozen cars.  He let us get into the back of his pick up and took us another 5 miles to the end of the construction zone, where all the cars behind him zoomed past while we were getting our gear out.  Now dark, with another wave of cars quite some time off, we were pondering our situation when we noticed one pickup had stopped so it’s owner could let her dog do it’s “business”.   We chatted with her and in a stroke of great fortune she gave us a ride all the way into town (another 30 miles) even though it was well out of her way. We arrived in Dubois, only ten minutes before ther last restaurant in town closed (at 9pm) so while the Carrot checked us into a hotel room, I nabbed a booth and 2 menus and we managed to get dinner and then back to the room for showers.  The CDT continued to challange us to keep trying even as all seemed to be almost beyond reach……but, from here we can go anywhere….

Now we are going to Glacier National Park to finish up the final few miles (about 20-30) between Many Glacier and the Canadian Border. The we will be done, with the CDT, and going home.  And from there we will go, some where. Anywhere.

Part 1 – The Great Basin

Rawlins – a truck stop town on the wide open plains of south central Wyoming.  The general area has long been a travel corridor west as there is a break between the Northern and Southern Rocky Mountains.  This is an area of high, barren plains punctuated by long mesas, ridges and occasional canyons. High elevation, barren countryside with extremes of heat in the summer and cold in the winter and wind all the time.  There nothingto block the wind, nothing for hundreds of miles.  Here there is no distinct watershed divide.  The Continental Divide actually splits into a ring and forms a rim around a large basin over 100 miles across. The water that enters the basin, what little water there is which falls here, does not run east or west, it simply sinks into the ground.  There are no large evaporative lakes (like the Great Salt lake in Utah), in fact there are very few features shaped at all by flowing or falling water.  It is, simply put, a desert.  And it is deserted. Sand and sage dominate. The landscape is dominated by long sight lines to faraway ridges, flat tops and some rolling bottoms.  The edges are defined by low rolling hills.  We hiked across this land and in 5 days, 120 miles saw no trees, except for one patch of plantation pines a few miles outside of Rawlins platned by some long ago deserted rancher.

Yet it is the very vast emptiness, stark, naked landscape that brings a strong appeal to this section of our journey. It is a wild and raw, untamed land; just like the wild horse which roam across it and the antelope who are masters of this domain.  There are NO people, and very very little sign of humans every having been there. Sure, we follow jeep roads, but in five days see just one or two vehicles on them. It is a rough and rugged area that commands you to meet it on its terms, not your own.  Abide by its rules and you can let your imagination roam along with you as you walk and picture yourself in a primordial time and place.

The most memorable part of this section will be the wind.  Somehow “windswept” falls short of describing it.  More like wind shovelled.  At times the strength of the gusts would literally push us a foot or more to the side with the step of each foot forward. There was no place to shelter a tent and, for all the flatness, the ground was almost always lumpy with desert grass or rocky with un-eroded chunks of large gravel.  No soft sand to sleep on; but, on the other hand, the starry skies were brilliant to sleep under.

Part two – the Wind Rivers, coming up in a seperate post.

We are closing in now, passing miles and milestones alike.  In Wyoming, marking mile 550 of this year’s hike (and, if you add together the sections we hiked in 2008 and 2009 we have now hiked more than 2,400 miles of the Continental Divide Trail with only a little over 300 left).  We are closing in on the finish!

And it is with these goals in mind that we drive ourselves forward on some days.  It’s not that there’s anything wrongwith the last section. But we did go through a transformation.  We left the mountains behind (for now anyway) and dropped into barren, rolling countryside, filled sagebrush and sand and hard packed clay.  And very little else.  Oh the long mesas which stretch to the horizon, punctuated by the occasional and canyon are interesting in that desolate sort of way. But it is the absence of things that is most interesting.  It is the lack of people, or man made objects that is fascinating.  On the other hand there is a reason no one is out here.  It’s pretty bleak.  It’s mostly hot, mostly dry and mostly cattle country. And unlike the mountains which present a new “face” with every  twisting, turning, switchback, the mesas and canyons all look pretty much the same with every step along the jeep road.  So, closing in on a goal helps to keep the focus on moving forward.

Then there’s the wind. There’s nothing to stop the wind and it seems to want to get across the barren landscape as much as we do. So it blows hard. Fortunately, it was mostly at our backs.  It was really only a concern when we saw Dorothy and Toto swirl by in the same gust. 

But while wind was a mere nuisance; water was a main concern. First, the lack of it and then the poor quality of what we did find. We passed on filtering cow piss out of “muddy creek” to get to a “fenced in spring” that reeked of minerals and tasted like sulfur. Imagine drinking water from a “hot springs” that had cooled down to merely warm.  But, with 24 waterless miles in front of us there was little to do bust stock up on the “sulfur water”.  The irony was that in searching for our last drinking water, we were faced with a morning downpour which turned the hard packed clay jeep road into a muddy mess. Each step picked up gobs of goo and each footfall slid around unpredictably. Ah Water…love it or hate it.

Now it wasn’t allbad.  There were Pronghorn Antelopes and Norther Harriers to amuse us (or more likely we were amusing them). And, after all, it  was better still than the paved road walk which would have cut out 15 miles but which would also have stressed out the Achilles tendon, shins, heels, knees and other parts of the body and psyche.

And things are looking up.  After Rawlins we enter the “Red Desert”, which the Chamber of Commerce notes is attractive to photographers for it’s stark beauty.  And everyone knows that if it were “bleak” the chamber wouldn’t simply say “stark beauty.”  And there are mountains ahead.  We’re too far away now, but in another 100 or so miles we should get close enough to be able to see the “Wind River Mountains”……time to pick them up, put them down, get some miles done and move ahead.

Next weekend, when we are in Landers WY, will be Labor day weekend, so we may not have access to the Internet.  So, don’t worry if our next trip report takes a bit longer……

Leaving Steamboat Springs we pointed again north as the trail follows the Divide very closely along the Park Range.  Most of this section was in the Mount Zirkle Wilderness, a wonderland of broad ridges, a few peaks, a lot of lakes and some stunning wildflowers still on display. Fields of yellow, purple and an occasional swatch of other colors. Sandhill Cranes honking loudly from an Alpine Lake were a pleasant surprise. As was another “Alpine Porcupine”.  I don;t know that this is actually a distinct species, but it seemed unusual to see a Porkie at 11,000 feet climbing a Krumholtz tree…or it would have seemed unusual, except that we were greeted by one of these animals when we entered Colorado last year.

We transitioned to the Sierra Madre mountains as the divide drops some in elevation and “softens”.  The walk continues to be a roller coaster ridge walk, but the bid, dramatic drops have now slowed down to the gentler terrain. And never too soon.  The Carrot had twisted her ankle a couple days before, in rocky Colorado. (She’s on the mend, thanks to anti-inflammatories and a good bit of tender care in watching where to step)

On Monday we crossed into Wyoming (and have not seen a cloud in the sky since leaving Colorado in our rearview.)  Clear skies have meant cold nights and yesterday morning there was a definite feeling of “fall” in the air. Colorado was a highlight of the whole trail experience, but we are very glad to be in Wyoming, somehow it feels different, it feels closer to the finish.  Unfortunately the trail is not well marked.  In fact the last 20 miles were not even really “trail”, just a series of posts and rock cairns strewn about rocky ridges and wet meadows.  A few times we had to stop and look around for awhile to find the next one.  Such is the nature of the CDT.

Tonight we are in the “twin cities” of Encampment and Riverside Wyoming, about 1 mile apart.  Encampment has the motel, library, PO and Liquor Store.  Riverside has the restaurants and grocery store.  It’s a lot of walking for a day off.  

Tomorrow – onto Rawlins!!!

We’re in Steamboat Springs, our last town stop in Colorado and we are “barrelling down” on Wyoming. We have been hiking for 4 1/2 weeks now with the same amount of time left (exactly half the time we allotted). And we have done about 400 miles, a little less than half the distance.  But now we are getting picky. Back to the question.  We both look back at the trail we have seen so far in Colorado with wonder and awe, and look ahead at the rest of the trail with…….well, wonder and awe.

Our walk turned west after leaving Grand Lake. On our first day out, in the Never Summer Mountains and Wilderness area we saw 3 moose.  On the loose. At least the first two took off pretty quick once they spotted us.  Both Bulls.  Later, as we were making camp, in a high basin right at timberline, we saw off in the willows another Bull Moose. He was content to continue munching and only casting an occasional eye our way. Prime eating season is short at 12,000 ft elevation.

As we left the Never Summer range for the Rabbit Ears Range, we started walking on volcanic rock.  (Mom’s don’t worry, these volcanoes haven’t been active for millenniums, at least).  The change we did notice was that our next big climb, Parkview Mtn, was an isolated peak.  And very steep.  We camped in a basin on the south side and followed a route (not a trail) marked with cairns.  We made our own switchbacks.  We had to. If we had followed a straight line, we would have gained almost 1,500 feet in just a little over three fourths of a mile.  It took a couple hours to summit.  That was partly because our morning rains returned and we decided to wait out one storm beside some stunted trees.  At the top, the views were incredible, as was the wind.  Nothing nearby to stop either one.  Such is the ways of old volcanoes.

The other “feature” about volcanic rock is that it does not hold water for long. So we had some long stretches with out any creeks or ponds.  But these are small prices to pay for the views…….as we continued west, towards Rabbit Ears Pass (yes, there are rocks that look like a rabbit ears – old volcanic plugs) we followed a forest service road on a long ridge descending trip into the lowlands.  The actual divide here is on private property, so the trail takes a detour down into bovine territory, where there is water, but not that you would want to drink. There is lots of Sage brush and wide open rolling hills.  Eventually, the forest service road turned onto Colorado Highway 14 (the actual official CDT route) and we started to pound pavement again.  Hot, new asphalt.  Dry, hot, new asphalt.  As darkness (and probably nocturnal bovine) were descending upon us, we scrambled to find a camp, behind some brush just tall enough to hide the tent from passing cars and trucks. It was flat, but lumpy with volcanic rocks.  We’ve had worse campsites, but not in several years. And our “reserves” of water were low, about 1 1/4 quarts each.

Not much to do, but get up early and pound some pavement and get to town as soon as possible.  We had 11.5 miles to go and wanted to get it over with. We bypassed breakfast and stopped only for the flagmen, to assure them we would not be “monkey-wrenching” and idle steamrollers. Actually, the lane closed for repairs gave at least some buffer between us and the vehicles passing by. 

Turning onto Highway 40 (still the “official” CDT”) we walked as far as the “trail” turned north and then stopped to hitch into town.  11:15 am – should be enough time to get a ride, get a room, get showers and lunch.  It was.

It’s all part of the journey. Glaciers and Glacier Lily’s are more interesting, but very little is as “exciting” as facing down a semi truck with a 2 foot shoulder. Don’t blink.

Tomorrow, we’ll take our first complete day off in almost two weeks. The back on the trail on Friday, Wyoming bound.

Our rainy days continue, and in the mountains that also means thunder and lighting. High ridges and extreme weather don’t mix well. We had several morning, yes mornings, where we stayed in the tent until the skies cleared enough to climb the next ridge. We sat out several mid day storms, and we camped short of our destination on a couple of nights due to the exposed trail ahead.  All this means that we are in Grand Lake, 2 days behind schedule. Just like in the army, we did more by 9am than most do all day, so we arrived early enough in the day for breakfast. We also have enough time today to do chores, so we will sacrifice our “day off” and head out tomorrow.  For thoseat home playing along with the counting days game, that means we will be one day behind schedule………..

Back on the trail, we did take advantage of one rain delay to take an unscheduled pit stop into the town of Grand Lake for food and spirits. And we were fortunate enough to have clear skies for the trail north of Berthoud Pass, where we hiked over three 13,000 ft peaks (and contoured around the tops of 2 more) all in just about 6 hours.  Stunning, though exposed, views.  The Carrot even manageed to conquor her fears of guidebook excess and climbed through the notch that was, rather sublimely, described as “near rock climbing” and “not quite needing ropes”……call her the “Climbing Carrot”.

This was also a great stretch for being in the back country.  Almost all of the 75 miles was in Wilderness and there were ungulates galore, mostly Elk and Mountain Goats, with a few deer tossed in for good measure. Things that make you go hmmmmmm…why don’t mountain goats get struck by lightning?  Afterall they hang around those high peaks and have lighting rod like horns????  Hmmmm…..

On now to the “Never Summer Range” of mountains; next stop Steamboat Springs.  326 miles done, 4 weeks tomorrow…..

Leaving Leadville (Tennessee Pass) we encountere about 40 mountain bikers over the next 48 hours.  Appears to be some kind of “race” along the length of the Colorado Trail. Most were pleasant enough, and looking pretty tired. At Copper Mountain Resort (which has exploded with growth since the 1980s) we parted ways with the Colorado Trail, taking the “Gore Range Trail”, an alternate CDT route into Silverthorne to resupply. We are now through with the larger numbers of Colorado Trail hikers, bikers and other hanger on-ers.

Crossing several high passes South of Copper Mountain and then in the Eagles Nest Wilderness area, we were fortunate to arrive at them at times when the light shined through the clouds with those long goldern rays of sunset. We camped in one basin to our first “real” sunset and “alpenglow”. Alas, we awoke at 7am to Thunderstorms.  Who’ll stop the rain….

With the absence of so many other trail users, we came across several Elk and Deer in the Eagle’s Creek Wilderness. And, as an added bonus, some of the most wonderful wildflower displays of the hike so far this summer!  This is a special place, well deserving of Wilderness and of the additions recommended by the “Hidden Gems” Wilderness campaign. I’ve been following their efforts, somewhat abstractly the last several months, but now have the feeling of personal connection. I hope you will support their efforts as I do. Once again, the power of personal connection to place is apparent; and I am reminded of the bond that our hikes creates between ourselves and the special places through which we pass.

By the numbers: 240 miles, 3 weeks, and only one day without rain.  (I know dryer days are ahead – they are in the great basin in Wyoming, about 4 more weeks away………

In fact, a lot has changed in these parts since the 1980s.  More people have brought more tourism to these mountain towns, but they have also brought more ATVs, motorbikes, mountain bikes, trail runners, day hikers and, of course, back packers.  The barely passable Tincup Pass of 1985 is now a parade of OHV vehicles (at least 200 in just 3 or 4 miles) and the empty campground at Half Moon Creek that I camped at with my dad in 1978 now bustles with overflowing people, vehicles, tents etc.  Our hike, while through some remarkable scenery, has not been a trip of “solitude”.  It’s not been quite “crowded”, for the most part.  But it’s busy enough you don’t dare drop a pack on the trail or do your “business” too close to the trail. Two weeks, and 200 miles, done and we have yet to have one day without seeing a car at some point.  The “back-roads” are bustling.

While I’m “whining”, it has rained nearly every day the last two weeks.  The sun has only made a rare appearance the last 4 or 5 days.  Thankful for good rain gear, tyvek to pull out at breaks and umbrellas.  On the plus side, we have gotten some very dramatic cloud shots! 

The CDT in this last section separated from the Colorado Trail for about 60 – 70 miles.  Closer to the crest, the CDT has gone through some absolutely stunning scenery, up and over some major passes and several wilderness areas (havens of quiet from the motorized madness).  We are thankful for the work of those in the 70’s and 80’s who worked to preserve the Collegiate Peaks, Mt Massive and Holy Cross Wilderness areas. This re-enforces our own efforts in north Idaho and western Montana.

Our friend William joined us for the first day/night/day on the trail from Tincup to Cottonwood passes, and we had a wonderful time.

For Deb’s birthday we managed to press the pace and find cheeseburgers in the small hamlet of “Twin Lakes”.  Later that day we were regaled with two young bull Elk!

For now we enjoy the pleasures of an old silver mining town turned tourist mecca – on to lunch!

“Buena” or “good” to you gringos does not even begin to describe the views (vista) from the town or the nearby Continental Divide.  Most definitely an understatement. But, then again I think that words, and even photos, fail to adequately portray the sublime alpine scenery. From micro scale: Moss Campion, Stone Crop and other fragile flowers: to the Macro Scale: swirling thunderheads forming over towering peaks – the trail has taken us to many magical and wondrous places.

The start of our hike at 11,000 foot Spring Creek Pass (where we let off a year ago) was sudden immersion into rarefied (or simply rare) air. The first two miles were straight uphill to a 12,500 foot mesa. We were gasping in both air and views as we walked. As nice as it’s been to be back in the “saddle” and ridge-tops the trail has only dipped below 10,000 foot once or twice so we’ve been sucking air with every step. Can someone in Sandpoint suggest to Dr Bird that there would be a market for a thru-hiker specific respirator?

It is great to be out enjoying the simple pleasures of trail life again. Walk, eat, sleep…and repeat…(Ok, maybe we could do with out so many cows and/or mosquitoes.)

The weather has been typical summer Colorado mountain weather. Most days start out sunny but mid-day brings a buildup of threatening dark clouds that we watch carefully to try to predict if the storm is moving our way. We have been mostly lucky with just a few brief showers during the day and only one night of steady rain. Our delays in hiking over passes and ridges has been minimal. The ominous clouds certainly add drama to our photos.

We saw many hikers for the first 7 days, folks doing all or a part of the Colorado Trail (480 mile long trail from Denver to Durango). They were all hiking south. The Colorado Trail guide is written in that direction. Until we reached a point just south of Monarch Pass the CDT and the Colorado Trail were one and the same; then the two split and we are now on just the CDT for while.  The trail has been very quiet and we are enjoying solitude.

We have had some wonderful trail magic in this first week.  A cooler full of sodas near the crossing Highway 114 was a nice treat and later that day, at Lujan Pass, we arrived at Trail Angel “Apple”‘s camp. He has set up a canopy with chairs coolers of beer and soda and lots of sugary and salty snacks for hikers. He is spending two months there greeting all the hikers who pass through – what a nice and generous man! We enjoyed the hospitality so much that after consuming several hot dogs and beers we decided to hike no further that day.

We are right on schedule so far with our longest day so far being about 17 miles.

Carrot’s critter count so far:  bighorn sheep, mule deer, antelope, marmots, pika,
snowshoe hare, one coyote, two mice (seen on the trail but they were not after our food bags) and lots of birds.  We have heard elk whistling, and smelled them in the willows as they lay deep in their day beds, but not seen them.

A few numbers:

1. Number of hot dogs consumed by Carrot in the first week of the trail: 3.5

2. Number of mountain bikers encountered in the 8 or so miles leading up to Monarch Pass: 96!!!

3. Number of pack llamas seen on the trail: 3

4. Miles done: 120

5. Miles to go: 730

6. Blisters: 5

7. Elevation Gain – do not want to think about it.

8. Beaver Dams: enough to hold back more water than Hoover Dam.

Well time to go do chores: laundry, food shopping, pack and foot repair, battery charging, leg re-charging, beer drinking, food eating and enjoying the rest of our day off here in BV! Back on the CDT tomorrow, the full moon beckoning.