CDT Days 28-30 – The Trek

Thanks for your patience while I publish regularly. Sorry for grammar errors in this, this is how it was written on the road. 🖤

Day 28: Back to the path

I woke up around 4 in the morning and floated until dawn, my flight outside California going without problems. After a scale in Phoenix, I returned to Albuquerque and collected for the same Uber driver as my departure (by total coincidence). It’s fun because he didn’t recognize me until I started reminding him of our conversation. I know that he sees many people, and it was a bit comforting that I did not see me so strange and wild coming out of the way before I stood out too much.

A cold chai tea in a pretty local cafeteria in Bernallilo helped relieve hot wait at the bus stop for Cuba. I would like to say that the final bus was so soft but, a mass road accident left us sitting for more than an hour. I was very happy, although exhausted, when I finally skipped the bus in Cuba and started the road walk to the next section.

I opened the map and surveyed exactly how many miles I had to go when … Ah! Escape! Escape! I shouted, stirring my trekking posts. Fortunately, I had seen the Pitbull carrying the corner of my eye. The dog backed down and I hurried. Wow, I suppose it is a good reminder to pay attention. Around half a mile later, again two dogs loaded me to discover their teeth. This time I was ready, thank God, but they didn’t go back. I hit my posts and then on the floor again and again, almost hitting them, and I shouted «Remove me!» At the top of my lungs in vain. Even their owners, back behind a chain link fence, had problems canceling them. Some of the dogs around here were clearly trained to attack. True Guardians dogs, in the most vicious sense.

I only heard the mention of the dogs of another hiker, and I thought it was nonsense to worry too much about that. But after traveling for 12 hours and being as tired as I, I decided firmly, not today. I am not trying to make a dog bit today, no sir. Then, I took a walk from a state road patrolman who had previously asked me if «it was fine» and I said yes, of course, because that is generally a code for ‘Oh, you are a woman alone, you must need help «, and I hate him so much. The patrolman did not even know what the CDT was. Whatever, whatever, I just wanted to return to the path.

Starting again on the path, dryness hit me like a wall after being in Socal Foggy. The miles returned easily when I went to a deposit that I thought I could have a good camp somewhere nearby. When I came around the corner towards the water, a great hall of all the sizes began to sound the alarm. It was dusk, and his splashes shines in the light that fades. Although I was nervous about the fact that the path was heading in the direction in which they were going and might think that I was following them, I enjoyed the magic of the moment.

However, unfortunately, when the darkness swallowed the forest, I struggled to find a flat place beyond the reservoir that was not completely covered with fallen trees. Uninformed fire policies, I curse in my head. I found a place on a rock, throwing my store quickly, since I could still listen to the nearby alce. He had even been accused by deer before for camping near his personal land, so he didn’t risk me. However, from this mile, the classes have been more than delicious and I hope it continues that way!

Note: It is necessary to take the old CDT route along the road to avoid dog attacks. The CDTC is currently working with the BLM and Cuba to officially redirect the path off the road.

Day 29: The climb that I did not want to do

The first half of the day was shaded and rolling to a road, the only difficulty in being tree coatings. When I arrived at the stream next to the road for a late lunch, the heat wrapped me and the cold drinks of the city. I sat there for an hour convincing me not to hook myself somewhere at night. I looked at the long climb, steep, presumably miserably hot to the top of the table that was on me. After accepting the fact that there were no good alternatives or stops on the road to get hooked, I started.

In fact, it was miserable, and it took me some quick stops in the shade and a lot of willpower to take me to the top. Just when the path was flattened, I saw one of the sun -style gloves of the dead gringo who had shown me on the ground. A mile later, just before the top of the climb, I found him already his hiking partner Lucky Boy looking at an information sign. «Did you lose?» I asked with a smile. They tried to find the brief road shortcut around the crest, and I followed them, grateful for not having additional curiosity.

The road gradually rose, rejoining with the path before descending to a cow channel in a grass covered. When I finished filtering water, I saw a hiker named Bird Pass and then the two hikers enter for the last water stop of their day. When I got up to leave, they asked me how much I was going. I told them some more miles. «It will be dark by then!» Exclaimed one of them. I thought I would be well about dusk. «Well, I really don’t want to, but I don’t want to do these miles in the morning when I think of food in Ghost Ranch.» They recognized the truth in that, and I left again.

Three miles below, down, until the dark time, in fact I arrived at the valley current just when the night was being placed. Surrounded by widow -creating trees in this area after burning. I hurried to find a camp with the least amount of danger. When my tent was finally uploaded inside a space in the trees, I ran into the current with my lighthouse. It was a fall as high as in the degraded stream there, and I climbed awkwardly towards the river route that is not invited. I quickly took out roots to crawl, feeling vulnerable as if I had been in a well. Back in my store, I realized that my heat eruption was back for all my legs. Figures, after that ascent without water today. I fell asleep, the dreams of the Chama River right in front of my mind.

Day 30: I just want a lake and a beer

The burning area opened to reveal a colorful desert landscape and, of course, the large and fluid Chama River.

Unfortunately, the roadway along the Chama was not what he had imagined. The road was far from the river, and due to the recent rains there were those horses everywhere. There was no overcoming them (I tried), and I had to clean the windshield my trekking posts behind my legs to keep them away. If I stopped for a moment, they would be biting the back of my legs again. Frustrated, hot and incredibly tired after the events of last week and the trip to and from my hometown, I walked to the area of ​​Coyote Take out and dropped into the sandy water. Another fly bit myself on the way. There were paddlers and families with rafts around me, preparing to transport me to the setting. «All I want is this, a beach without horses and a cold beer,» I thought for myself, remembering the days spent in the water in the Arizona or Nevada deserts like a child.

I continued along the way to Ghost Ranch, still about 8 miles away. But mentally, I ended. As well, for the first time from the border, I chose to break my perfect line. I do not approve this, in fact, I am quite purist, but again after the previous week … all I wanted was the lake ahead and a beer. Yes, that is what always wants to be that it is about that, but I felt that losing a family member was an excuse real enough for the level of exhaustion he was experiencing.

A brilliant and bubbly girl from Santa Fe and her dog picked me up, leaving me all the way in the check-in of Ghost Ranch along with two cold IPA and a bright water too. I gave him a hug. Question and you will receive.

The Ladies of Ghost Ranch were such pleasant people, and also the friends of the path I saw there. Among the host of the camp that gave the cold drinks, the foods of the camp 3 times a day and the large cash area of ​​hikers, it really was a sky of hikers in the desert. Checking and placing my store, the realization of how hot it hit me. Since the ranch pool was broken, it was even more desperate to reach the lake and put the road just after lunch. I thought I could get hooked to the public beach and go back, the road seemed to have enough traffic. Upon leaving the ranch, it was collected by one of the employees, Laura, who left me on the nearby private beach in Ghost Ranch in the lake. She told me that there were 4 miles in every sense.

It was not the short walk to the lake I had imagined, but I thought that life was giving me the 8 miles that I had jumped before a quite overwhelming way. «It will be good to feel that I did those miles, and then I will have the beach for me anyway,» I thought for myself. I will not go into details here, but it was a completely without a program for only one hour in the lake, but I cannot say that I would have had it differently. I will drink beer, cold water and nostalgia.