Start the last day
Dawn broke in a cold morning. The shore of the lake was surrounded by peaks that prevented the sun’s rays from reaching my store. I didn’t care. It was my last day and I was anxious to start. I broke the camp at a record rhythm, ate a fast breakfast of single sprouts and tortillas (not much left in my food bag), then leaked some water of frozen lake. I couldn’t feel my hands, but I could feel emotion and anticipation running through my veins. My goal was within reach. At last. It is time to become a Colorado Trail finalist. I stopped for a final moment to look at Taylor Lake. I was quiet, peaceful and beautiful. My gaze caught the path that had descended the night before. My thoughts went to the many memories and prominent aspects of the miles that I had already walked. I felt a slight stab of sadness knowing that I would not wake up tomorrow with more miles to walk.
My first steps on the path felt like a dream. The morning brightness mixed with a smoked mist gave the surrounding peaks a kind of supernatural sensation. If it weren’t for the burning in my quads and calves, I would have assumed that I was still in my store. When I approached the Kennebec path, some fishermen walked to me on my way to Lake Taylor. Seeing people who were going to their usual daily routine hit a bit different this morning. Soon that would be me. Back home in Exeter. I would soon be making pancakes for children, exercise in the basement gym and make a shopping list with my wife. I am very excited to return to the moments of the path like these. Soon, I hit the top of the crest. The sunlight finally hits my face. Ahead of me, 6,000 feet of descent to my final goal.
Bears! Finally!
The descent began with a slightly hair journey on a loose rock slide. After that, things calmed down. A series of gradual curves cross the Colorado forest. I was lulled in the autopilot for the descent. My legs advanced, so I let them do what they have done best for 21 days. After a few miles, the sun couldn’t reach me anymore. He felt like the time of dawn again. My trance was broken by the sound of heavy footsteps. A big bear heard me come and made a break for it. He ran along the way with surprising speed. A 22 -day trip and I had finally seen my first colorful bear. As in NH, these animals are only big house cats. I walked a little more caution knowing that the bear’s escape route was also my head. The giant leg and claw footprints on the soft path were felt a bit sinister.
I descended the valley more with the aim of filling in my first crossing of Creek Junction. As if to avoid a similar state of trance, the forest threw two more bears sightings. Both were in the middle of the path and so surprised to see me as I was. Again, both instances were as harmless as the former. The bears ran thinking that it represented some kind of existential threat. I felt a little bad by throwing his morning, but he was on a mission.
The final climb and a noon pause
I arrived in Junction Creek. I re -said my water and took a quick break. It was time for the final climb. 1,300 feet up. After about 90,000 feet of climbing during the previous 3 weeks, I was not going to sweat. Another broken package for the hatch and I left. The climb wrapped the side of the valley. He ended up feeling quite gradual and was worth a good view. I had about 10 miles of descending. The sun was at its peak and the heat of the day was the final obstacle.
The day became hot. My water supply was also working quite low. He had reached that moment of a long walk where he was ready for the end, but the miles seemed slowly marking one hundredth at the same time. I must admit that this section was not very fun. The anticipation of the terminal was beginning to feel a bit like despair. I was ready for the end. Fortunately, a dog came out of my funk along the way. A puppy, later I discovered that it was called Toast, I saw myself and gave me some startled barking. After that, I checked my map and I saw that I was about two miles from the next intersection with Creek Junction.
I found myself at Gudy’s break. There was a bank overlooking the final stretch of the CT. I sat down, I finished my water and breathed deeply. 4 more miles. I arrived at the curves and headed to the river. The sweet relief of cold mountain water was the collection I needed. When I was about to embark on the final miles, Toast returned. This time, its owner Jordan was with him. We had to talk about Durango and he offered me a trip to the city. Now I had water and transport. I was ready for the engine. Jordan and Toast ran ahead. I launched some music for the first time on the way and walked with a purpose.
The end
The soundtrack of my miles in Long Trail was a band called Hovvdy. I often think about the moment I saw the Canadian border for the first time while listening to the song «Blindsid». For the CT, I chose to close things with Phish. A perfect soundtrack for the sunny miles of this successful summer adventure. Finally, the path opened to the parking of Juncion Creek. I saw that beautiful sign that means the end of a long trip. The southern end of the Colorado path. Jordan was there with toast. He took my photo on the sign and celebrated with me. A moment that perfectly encapsulates hiking culture. A total stranger that I had met an hour ago was celebrating my achievement as if we were friends with childhood who had finally achieved a common dream. He had done it. He had succeeded. I am a Colorado path through a hiker.
The emotion of the day would hit me later at night. First, it was free beer time and a massive hamburger in Carver Brewery. I really want to relax a little in Durango before the long flight home.
I want to finish this post thanks to my wife, Lisa. Without his willingness to be a single father during the summer peak, he could not pursue the dream of being a hiker. I really appreciate that I support me and my goals!
Day 1 vs. Day 22
So long, Colorado Trail!
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