Back to you – The walk

You read that right, friends. I’m back at CDT!

Hiking after injury

If you’ve been following my story, you know that last year I had a disaster when I fell just north of Ghost Ranch, New Mexico. My road to recovery was long, painful, and at times frustrating. But I’m back on track and my hip injury is barely noticeable. Hurrah! I flew to Denver last week and then took the train to Winter Park. That’s where I took the trail when I came down due to snow in 2024. I’m doing this SOBO section, so I pass some NOBOs every day. I knew I wouldn’t get used to the elevation yet, so I had planned to walk less than 10 miles a day for the first week. I didn’t want to waste my little available time sitting in a hostel.

Slow and steady

I set out the same afternoon the train arrived in town. That day was short: less than a mile. But it allowed me to start early the next day. My first full day of hiking was just over 7 miles. Most were at elevations of 11,000 to 12,000 feet. The air is pretty thin up there. Every time I went up a hill, even the slightest climb, I stopped to breathe every 20 to 50 feet. Do it all day and it will take you more than 8 hours to walk that distance. Please note that although I am a slow hiker and own my slow pace, my usual pace is over 2.5 miles per hour. This week I have been going less than a kilometer per hour. Daily. Even some of the descents were very slow and challenging because the steep trail I went on traversed slopes of at least 45°. Do you remember that old nursery rhyme about Jack and Jill? It was racing through my brain over and over again on those descents.

The washed out trail was filled with loose sand and gravel with no footholds.

Most of this section was a little scary. I have never liked heights. I have always worried about falling, even before last year’s devastating event. One day was especially scary for me. He was leaving a valley to cross an unnamed pass. The path had curves to ascend the steep slope. On one of those curves, the road was washed away. The missing section of trail was more than 3 feet wide. And the edges of the wash were as loose as the wash. Somehow I managed to cross it. Don’t ask me how. I’m not entirely sure. I know it was a strong root, some bunches of grass, and my knees. When I got to the other side, I stood there for a minute shaking. Then I took the photo. The important things, you know?

The slope to the port was still steep, but the crossings were not bad. The rest of the trail was solid, although narrow. As narrow as a footprint. I finally made it to the top! Only 3 hours for 1.5 miles of trail. And then I looked the other way…

Danger, Will Robinson!

The view was beautiful! I saw a good sized herd of elk in the valley. I noticed the trail was about a mile to the next pass, but it never actually descended into the valley. It skirted the end of the valley at the top without climbing the ridge. There was a large patch of snow that seemed to cover part of the trail, but the slope below looked passable.

The purple arrow is the pass. The orange arrow is where I finally got up.

However, when I looked directly at my feet at the start of the descent, it was exactly that. A descent. The trail descended steeply enough that I couldn’t see the first turn. It was loose, sandy, rocky and wide terrain, with no footholds and few bushy plants to slow the descent. Imagine sliding down a steep dune on the beach with the base of the dune hundreds of feet below you. Yes. How slippery and scary. I was so scared that I sent a pin to my family and texted my son to tell him what I was about to do.

I decided the safest way to get down was on my butt. I thought I could keep my center of gravity closer to the slope to be safer. So I did it. Every once in a while I had to lift my butt and push just enough off the slope to dislodge the larger rocks I was dragging with me. I used my poles to slow the slide and tried to anchor them at the base of the few stunted plants along the outer edges. After more than 50 feet, I finally felt like the trail was changing direction enough that I wasn’t looking directly downhill.

It still wasn’t a firm trail, but at least I wasn’t heading straight down anymore. But it was also narrow. The mile to the next pass took me over an hour. As I approached the top of that pass, the ground loosened again. At least this time, there were plenty of larger rocks firmly planted on the trail that I used as a foothold, as well as bushy plants to anchor my poles. It was also only about 20 feet long.

When I reached the top, a hiker was waiting for me to descend. I’m so glad because there were few places along that mile where we could have easily crossed paths! He seemed a little uneasy about the decent thing and asked about the section. I told him my truth, without trying to scare him. I had seen six hikers the day before who must have passed without problems! I told him to take his time and even offered him an alternative to failure on the other side of the pass. We said goodbye and I continued on my way. I looked back at one point and saw him sitting at the top of the pass. I guess he was contemplating his options because a while later he turned around and caught up to me. I had noticed a very long alternative that someone commented on FarOut that followed a river valley for 15 miles and avoided the entire section. It was the choice between an 8 mile section over that sketchy section with little water, or a 15 mile hike down the valley along a wide stream. And the stream passed through a forest road with a paid campsite. Typically, that means the surrounding trails are maintained for weekend specialists. If I had known the route I took was so treacherous, I would have taken the valley route in a heartbeat! The rest of the section was not easy, but not that dangerous either.

altitude attitude

Type two fun also includes some beauty!

Fortunately, not the entire stretch was as alarming as that day. However, my plan to walk to acclimatize to the altitude seems to have backfired a bit. I’ve had some bad headaches. One night I had no appetite and then I had dry heaves. I get out of breath when I walk down a slightly sloping sidewalk in the city. My resting pulse is elevated. Of course, I’m also exhausted, between the altitude and the lack of trail sections yet. I was nauseous and then vomited the day after arriving in the city. It sounds like altitude sickness to me. If I don’t feel better soon, I will go to urgent care to get some relief. I’m in a nice hostel with a good price and I drink a lot of water, so I’ll stay a few days to get used to the elevation.

Fortunately (unfortunately?) a fire started earlier this week about 40 miles south that closed a good section of the trail. I’ll have to skip that section, but that gives me a few extra days I can spend here before leaving. I would stay in Leadville, which is just east of the fire, but the elevation is over 10,000 feet and that may not help me acclimatize. Plus, it’s probably full of other hikers who had to go off trail. At least here I am sitting at just over 9,000 feet.

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